// okay! fine! sarah! @qapsiel poke the bear! i'm here nowwww and i'm bout to make it gabriel's (and probably everyone else's lbr) problem!

#iwtv#interview with the vampire#the vampire armand#assad zaman


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// okay! fine! sarah! @qapsiel poke the bear! i'm here nowwww and i'm bout to make it gabriel's (and probably everyone else's lbr) problem!
if i die, promise you'll erase my search history. ( @trickheaven )
mouth opens as sam almost asks what gabriel has been searching. but a lifetime of having an older brother with a porn addiction immediately makes him close his mouth. he was not gonna fall for that trap. thank you very much. instead, sam shakes his head ( more to himself than to the angel. ) and turns his gaze elsewhere, as if he's already so annoyed that he can't even look at him. - gabriel should count himself lucky that he isn't immediately getting sassed to hell and back again. if dean had said it, the sass would never end.
"please don't use my laptop for -," pause as he searched for the words - "anything, actually. i don't even want to know."
@trickheaven: [ TXT ] : testing to see if you blocked my number . . .
[ TXT: nuisance 🍭 ] : ok.
[ TXT: nuisance 🍭 ] : i didn't block your number, gabriel. sam didn't let me.
[ TXT: nuisance 🍭 ] : i just muted you permanently.
RANDOM ALL-OUT PARTY PROMPTS
It’s hard to hear him speak over the speakers, bass bouncing off the walls, floor, and into my chest. But he already has my attention—caught it on the dance floor a few minutes ago—so I make the effort. Lean in close. Really listen.
@trickheaven: "Are you always this tempting, or am I just drunk?"
What I hear makes me laugh and wrap my arms around his neck without even thinking. He’s a little blurry to my eyes, and I’m slightly flushed from the heat and the alcohol.
Did he even tell me his name? I can't remember. Does it matter right now?
I don’t think it does. It doesn't stop me from bringing my mouth close to his ear so he can hear me over the music.
"Bet you say that to everyone."
@trickheaven
He might have destroyed another pet store. But, in Krypto’s defense, that great big wall of windows really should have been reinforced if they didn’t want superdogs to break through them.
The shop itself ends up in shambles. All the toys are swiftly torn to pieces, none of them strong enough to withstand the teeth of a Kryptonian dog on a planet with a yellow sun. Shelves topple into each other as Krypto runs from aisle to aisle. Sniffing everything he can reach with his paws on the floor and flying up to sniff the things he can’t.
Every bag of dog food and treats has been torn open and spilled all over the floor. That’s where Krypto is currently situated—in the middle of the mess, happily chomping away—when he smells it. Something not human. Not Kryptonian, either. He pauses, head tilting to the side, ears perking up, before bounding through the broken window-wall to follow the scent all the way to its source. He skids to a halt at the feet of a being that he’s fairly certain doesn’t belong on this planet, even though he looks like he might.
Clearly, he needs to investigate further.
He sniffs furiously at the man, circling him, barking at him every once in a while to tell him to stay put. Not that the man is trying to go anywhere, but people tend to have very short memories—it never hurts to remind them.
"If I'm being honest..." Gabriel looks at the vegetable stew, poking a carrot with his spoon. "... this tastes better than I thought."
That Gabriel deigned to even try the meal borders on a miracle. In comfortable silence enjoys Cain his own bowl, although it's still scalding hot. A demon isn't bothered by temperatures, let alone dependent on nutrition— it's about the pleasure. This vestige of humanity found in daily rituals. Neither does Gabriel need this, lacking grace or not. So he already earned respect for sitting down with his host to eat.
The compliment summons faint disbelief across Cain's face, soon to morph into approval. Pointing at the angel with his momentarily empty spoon, he adds: " Then you're going to love the dessert. "
"IF I'M BEING HONEST" MEME // @trickheaven
TUMBLR TEXT POST PROMPTS
@trickheaven: "I think Aristotle said that."
The Terminator stares at him, expression blank but clearly processing. Whatever Gabriel said doesn't match any known quote attributed to Aristotle. He pulls from his internal database, cross-referencing texts on his extensive database. No matches.
The silence stretches until he finally declares:
"That is incorrect. Aristotle did not say that. I have access to his complete works, preserved in the original Greek and five translations."
With a second's pause, he finishes his assessment.
"You are either mistaken, lying, or testing me."
The Terminator doesn't step forward, but his posture shifts, subtle but prepared.
"Which is it?"
/// Both my Gabriels submitted the same text, sharing the braincell fr