One-liner/drabble dump
From various fic chats. Runs the gamut of ships, characters and genres. Warnings for some angst and lots of punctuation abuse.
Spreadsheet
"You calculate the overhead," his voice thrummed against her ear as he leaned over behind her, long fingers trapping hers over the computer keyboard. "Then you subtract it from the revenue... and you figure out the profit." The air was silent but for her ragged breathing and the click of computer keys, thick as honey in the scant few inches between them, and if she leans her head back another inch, he'd be able to see straight down her shirt, and the thought of it ups the temperature of the room another ten degrees.
Favourite Things
A blue ribbon lies limp on the desk, next to a yellowed, dog-eared book and a pair of reading glasses, a broken white queen and black pawn bearing witness as Zoisite fingers her favourite things and wonders how it is possible that she could leave without them-- without him-- and manage to survive.
Slip and Slide
"I don't love you," he says gently, to ease her away from the earthquake that their relationship would inevitably become, and she feels the slide and stumble of her heart down a cliff as she forces herself to stand up, slip out the door, and take one step after another as the tears come, a trickle to a torrent, and she wonders if there is regret behind the unreadable gray eyes.
Polar Bear
Jupiter is not used to the cold: it is always temperate on the moon, and on her home planet, due to the Jovian affinity for flora, the weather is generally humid and sub-tropical, with frequent rainfall. The first time she visits the remote reaches of Nephrite's kingdom, she's not so sure she likes the snow and the barren starkness of the tundra, and thinks that maybe she will have to say something vague and polite when he asks her what she thinks about it. But then later at night, while they're curled together under a polar bear's skin for warmth and in the sky Aurora Borealis flashes like icy flames and he whispers Inuit legends about the beasts and spirits of the Northland in her ear to lull her to sleep, she finds that maybe she likes his kingdom after all.
http://www.redbubble.com/people/mtozier/art/4116871-4-missing-you
After the ban was passed, Mercury went to Earth only once, for the express purpose of bidding him farewell, and in her pragmatic way, kept the visit as short and to-the-point as possible so as not to draw out the pain. Now, the music of her voice no longer echoes in his room and the Mercurian lotus that she'd given him as a token is faded, and so it is that when Beryl finds him, he's alone by the sea, staring across the stormy tides into the infinite distance, because only here with the salt spray tinging the air can he smell the scent of her hair again, and lost in the darkness of despair and the loneliness of nothing-but-memories, he's an easy target.
Braid
There is, logically, absolutely nothing sexy about this whole scenario. It's hot in the kitchen, and Makoto's hair is frizzing slightly with the humidity in the air. She's wearing a voluminous white apron over track pants and a shirt that looks like one of his, and braiding strips of dough for piecrust, and yet Nephrite surveys the scene and watches her dexterous fingers at work and, for no good reason at all, just wants to lift her up onto the counter, pull off that apron, and lick cherry pie filling off her bare skin.
Entice
There were scores of other girls present, an ocean of kohl-lined eyes and bared legs and glossy lips, but she just kept to herself, a black-clad sylph, her aloofness and the exotic perfume of her glance far more enticing than the more obvious lures of her peers.
Habit
He lights the cigarette and takes a deep drag as he watches the girl in the dim light of dusk, her eyes still piercingly blue through the mist of carcinogenic smoke as she carefully arranges her books and papers in her habitual way, and he rakes one hand through his disordered blond curls as he reflects that she, like the cigarette, is soothing and calming and a habit bordering on obsession which will inevitably end in death.
http://www.redbubble.com/people/jjenney/art/3667493-3-one-and-only
Nephrite returns to Earth with heavy thoughts and a pink rose in his pocket, a final token of love from the hands of a girl he knows he'd never see again, and indeed the Heavenly King of Earth's North American kingdom never sees the Crown Princess of Jupiter again... but the Dark Kingdom's operative spars with the Senshi of Defense and when Jupiter calls upon her lightning to defeat him, he falls and a small object drops out of his pocket-- faded and wrinkled and ashy and yet preserved perfectly-- and she crumples to the bloody ground with him, taking her rose back, wondering if he in his last moments of sanity remembered who had given it to him.
Bliss
Kunzite watches as she bites into the rum cordial, lush lips and pearly teeth coming together slowly as the heady flavours fill her mouth and an expression of bliss crosses her face, and the way she licks her lips and closes her eyes in sensual pleasure over the simple act of eating chocolate is a moment of bliss for him as well. He decides on the spot that maybe Valentine's Day isn't such a stupid holiday after all.
Make-outs
She had meant, really, to just give him a peck on the lips: an almost-friendly gesture that meant little to most... and she had been certain that he'd accept it, peck her back, then pull away with his usual cheeky grin. But she found herself backed against the wall, one surprised squeak escaping through her lips as he practically dove in, green eyes still open and suddenly hot, musician's hands greedy as they clamped around her waist and yanked her closer. One blink of the eye encompassed an unknown number of minutes as his fingers raced under the hem of her shirt and he trailed his mouth from hers down her jaw to her neck, tongue and teeth searing her quickly heating skin.
Starbucks
It was an interesting process, introducing the ins and outs of her world to Jadeite, and the ups and downs of his experiences always managed to put a smile on her face, and this time was no exception. Raye shook her head bemusedly as he sucked down a mocha latte before it even had a chance to cool down from scalding with an expression on his face that people associated more often with orgasms than over-priced coffee drinks. "You've succumbed to the dark side," she told him with a smirk, "Hope you like having a five-dollar-a-day addiction."
Your lullabies won't let me sleep
The sound of rain pattering on plate glass was lulling to most, the steady tapping of water and rumble of thunder comfortable and familiar in the darkness... but not for Nick Renshaw, to whom thunderstorms always came with a sense of foreboding, of debts unpaid and angry tearstorms from the heavens.
Proof of Life
She hurt, her heart all but shrinking away in pain as the war rained destruction upon a once-peaceful paradise, and every breath, every futile attack in the vain attempt to stop the invasion, was a study in agony. But only the living could hurt, and that was how she was sure that Kunzite was still alive. If he had been killed, her heart-- so completely entwined with his-- would have stopped, she was sure of it. And then she saw the face of the man leading the invasion and knew what she had to do and thought that she would have preferred death.
Obsession
There was help for people like him-- groups of people sitting and telling their sob stories, hypnosis, twelve-step programs, happy pills-- or so the world would want people to believe... but nothing prescribed or recommended by any number of specialists could clear his mind of the broken bits of memories and the image of accusatory blue eyes fixed on his in her last moments-- a dark dream seared to the backs of his eyelids every night he slept.
May it be the shadow's call will fly away.
Even as she follows a blank-eyed Motoki into the darkened streets, bewildered eyes full of the innocence of a fawn walking into a trap, some part of her raised its hackles at the shadowy streets, a ghostly silhouette of a bride barely visible out of the corner of one eye, and already knew and struggled with the fact that tonight, someone important would be dying.
Better Than Ice Cream
He had the youthful, cocky grin of a teenager and a similar penchant for junk food, but just then, as he was lying on his back with sweat cooling his hot skin and her naked body-- pale as new milk-- sprawled over his own as she too tried to catch her breath, he thought that he might just have found something even better than fudge ripple to enjoy on a hot day.
Sacrifice
Mina understood the concept, really she did; nights and days without sleep and dodging the law to survive, no home to call her own outside of rooms that rented by the week... but nothing she'd ever given up, nothing she'd ever done, hurt even near as much as the brave smile she plastered on her face as she watched Kunzite walk away, the phantom weight of his lips still tingling against hers.
Heater
The thugs and dealers leered appreciatively, almost as a collective, as a raven-haired beauty in a fake black leather miniskirt strutted into the boss' office on yards of perfect leg-- yeah, Rico knew how to pick them. Ten minutes later, though, the place was surrounded by sirens and uniforms and the hooker-turned-cop pulled a cannon out from underneath the pleather, and it didn't bear thinking how she managed to stow a heater under a skirt that size. Yeah, Rico did always know how to pick them all right.
Rehab
"Have you ever considered getting help?" Mina asked disgustedly as she watched Zach pour the contents of about two dozen packets of Taco Bell Fire Sauce over his nachos until one could barely see the chips. "A twelve-step program, maybe rehab? Because that right there is just sick and wrong on sooo many levels."
Sometimes people leave you halfway through the wood
It was his planet, his kingdom, but it figured that Jupiter would choose those woods to meet him. The moon's bold white light barely illuminated her face through the thick cover of the leaves, and he couldn't see whether her eyes were dry to match her proud stance and straight shoulders as she bid him farewell with no promises and no recriminations. He could only watch as she turned to leave, her breath ragged for a moment in the stillness, and then she was gone, leaving him alone in the woods-- his kingdom, his planet, but her turf. He couldn't see the stars through the branches, but he already knew that he'd never come back to this spot.
Ribbon
"Do you believe the legend that soulmates are connected by ribbons to the heart?" she had asked him once, naked and drowsy and glowing like rose-gold against his sheets. He doesn't know why he remembers that now, but the hand holding the sword is already inexorably in motion, and a real ribbon tied over her heart stains red with blood as he slashes his weapon down.
It seemed like a good idea at the time
Flirting with the meek, solemnly pretty Mercurian senshi seemed like the thing to do at the time, since she was there and searching for her princess, and he was just being nice, really. That he'd get coshed in the head by a flying chessboard thrown by a spitting, hissing European king had been an unexpected side effect. The court scribe named Ryo reminded himself to think long and hard before approaching Mercury again.
I wish you weren't worth the wait
For someone who wielded the hottest flames with her fingertips, she was cold and implacable as ice when it came to him-- to them-- and there were bouquets of dead roses shriveling from crimson to the purple-black of bruises untouched in their vases, delivered once a week-- and had he been able, at any moment in any of his lives, to think of her without either love or hate bleeding through it so intensely that he was consumed by it, he might have given up. He wishes he could, every week, before he rings the florist and buys a dozen long-stemmed with a single note that reads "I'm sorry".
Your inner thighs smell like blueberries
Makoto raised an eyebrow at the garble coming out of the strange man's mouth, and slowly picked up her half-empty mojito. "That's funny. Yours must smell like durian. Let's rectify that, shall we? Mint leaves are often used to deodorize." Standing up, she tossed the rest of her drink in the man's lap and stalked away, muttering recriminations under her breath that Minako had suggested going to a bar for girls' night out rather than a completely sensible restaurant.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked
When Endymion traveled to the moon that last, fateful time, he was in silent mourning even while doing what he could to fortify the defenses of his beloved's kingdom-- he grieved for the burned villages and pillaged towns, the homes and temples reduced to rubble, the lost lives of countless soldiers and civilians alike on Earth-- but also for the four best friends he had ever known, four of the most honourable and courageous of brothers, who in the end fell also to the darkness in such a way that they would never even be allowed the dignity of dirges and graves.
Suddenly I don't remember the rules any more
"I'm not supposed to be here," she whispers as she pulls the hood back to reveal her telltale blue hair and eyes sparkling from running and anticipation, and dwarfed in a dark cloak, face pale in the dim candlelight of his room, all he can do is nod even as he steps forward and yanks her against him, forgetting that the Mercurian princess is out of his league, forgetting the most basic laws of his planet, forgetting the consequences that would befall them both if they continued this unwise and forbidden relationship, forgetting even to be gentle as he drinks in the taste of her lips and traps her against his door as her limbs wind around him and her presence fills his entire consciousness.
If you got through all that, you're a trooper. Congrats!
Spreadsheet
"You calculate the overhead," his voice thrummed against her ear as he leaned over behind her, long fingers trapping hers over the computer keyboard. "Then you subtract it from the revenue... and you figure out the profit." The air was silent but for her ragged breathing and the click of computer keys, thick as honey in the scant few inches between them, and if she leans her head back another inch, he'd be able to see straight down her shirt, and the thought of it ups the temperature of the room another ten degrees.
Favourite Things
A blue ribbon lies limp on the desk, next to a yellowed, dog-eared book and a pair of reading glasses, a broken white queen and black pawn bearing witness as Zoisite fingers her favourite things and wonders how it is possible that she could leave without them-- without him-- and manage to survive.
Slip and Slide
"I don't love you," he says gently, to ease her away from the earthquake that their relationship would inevitably become, and she feels the slide and stumble of her heart down a cliff as she forces herself to stand up, slip out the door, and take one step after another as the tears come, a trickle to a torrent, and she wonders if there is regret behind the unreadable gray eyes.
Polar Bear
Jupiter is not used to the cold: it is always temperate on the moon, and on her home planet, due to the Jovian affinity for flora, the weather is generally humid and sub-tropical, with frequent rainfall. The first time she visits the remote reaches of Nephrite's kingdom, she's not so sure she likes the snow and the barren starkness of the tundra, and thinks that maybe she will have to say something vague and polite when he asks her what she thinks about it. But then later at night, while they're curled together under a polar bear's skin for warmth and in the sky Aurora Borealis flashes like icy flames and he whispers Inuit legends about the beasts and spirits of the Northland in her ear to lull her to sleep, she finds that maybe she likes his kingdom after all.
http://www.redbubble.com/people/mtozier/art/4116871-4-missing-you
After the ban was passed, Mercury went to Earth only once, for the express purpose of bidding him farewell, and in her pragmatic way, kept the visit as short and to-the-point as possible so as not to draw out the pain. Now, the music of her voice no longer echoes in his room and the Mercurian lotus that she'd given him as a token is faded, and so it is that when Beryl finds him, he's alone by the sea, staring across the stormy tides into the infinite distance, because only here with the salt spray tinging the air can he smell the scent of her hair again, and lost in the darkness of despair and the loneliness of nothing-but-memories, he's an easy target.
Braid
There is, logically, absolutely nothing sexy about this whole scenario. It's hot in the kitchen, and Makoto's hair is frizzing slightly with the humidity in the air. She's wearing a voluminous white apron over track pants and a shirt that looks like one of his, and braiding strips of dough for piecrust, and yet Nephrite surveys the scene and watches her dexterous fingers at work and, for no good reason at all, just wants to lift her up onto the counter, pull off that apron, and lick cherry pie filling off her bare skin.
Entice
There were scores of other girls present, an ocean of kohl-lined eyes and bared legs and glossy lips, but she just kept to herself, a black-clad sylph, her aloofness and the exotic perfume of her glance far more enticing than the more obvious lures of her peers.
Habit
He lights the cigarette and takes a deep drag as he watches the girl in the dim light of dusk, her eyes still piercingly blue through the mist of carcinogenic smoke as she carefully arranges her books and papers in her habitual way, and he rakes one hand through his disordered blond curls as he reflects that she, like the cigarette, is soothing and calming and a habit bordering on obsession which will inevitably end in death.
http://www.redbubble.com/people/jjenney/art/3667493-3-one-and-only
Nephrite returns to Earth with heavy thoughts and a pink rose in his pocket, a final token of love from the hands of a girl he knows he'd never see again, and indeed the Heavenly King of Earth's North American kingdom never sees the Crown Princess of Jupiter again... but the Dark Kingdom's operative spars with the Senshi of Defense and when Jupiter calls upon her lightning to defeat him, he falls and a small object drops out of his pocket-- faded and wrinkled and ashy and yet preserved perfectly-- and she crumples to the bloody ground with him, taking her rose back, wondering if he in his last moments of sanity remembered who had given it to him.
Bliss
Kunzite watches as she bites into the rum cordial, lush lips and pearly teeth coming together slowly as the heady flavours fill her mouth and an expression of bliss crosses her face, and the way she licks her lips and closes her eyes in sensual pleasure over the simple act of eating chocolate is a moment of bliss for him as well. He decides on the spot that maybe Valentine's Day isn't such a stupid holiday after all.
Make-outs
She had meant, really, to just give him a peck on the lips: an almost-friendly gesture that meant little to most... and she had been certain that he'd accept it, peck her back, then pull away with his usual cheeky grin. But she found herself backed against the wall, one surprised squeak escaping through her lips as he practically dove in, green eyes still open and suddenly hot, musician's hands greedy as they clamped around her waist and yanked her closer. One blink of the eye encompassed an unknown number of minutes as his fingers raced under the hem of her shirt and he trailed his mouth from hers down her jaw to her neck, tongue and teeth searing her quickly heating skin.
Starbucks
It was an interesting process, introducing the ins and outs of her world to Jadeite, and the ups and downs of his experiences always managed to put a smile on her face, and this time was no exception. Raye shook her head bemusedly as he sucked down a mocha latte before it even had a chance to cool down from scalding with an expression on his face that people associated more often with orgasms than over-priced coffee drinks. "You've succumbed to the dark side," she told him with a smirk, "Hope you like having a five-dollar-a-day addiction."
Your lullabies won't let me sleep
The sound of rain pattering on plate glass was lulling to most, the steady tapping of water and rumble of thunder comfortable and familiar in the darkness... but not for Nick Renshaw, to whom thunderstorms always came with a sense of foreboding, of debts unpaid and angry tearstorms from the heavens.
Proof of Life
She hurt, her heart all but shrinking away in pain as the war rained destruction upon a once-peaceful paradise, and every breath, every futile attack in the vain attempt to stop the invasion, was a study in agony. But only the living could hurt, and that was how she was sure that Kunzite was still alive. If he had been killed, her heart-- so completely entwined with his-- would have stopped, she was sure of it. And then she saw the face of the man leading the invasion and knew what she had to do and thought that she would have preferred death.
Obsession
There was help for people like him-- groups of people sitting and telling their sob stories, hypnosis, twelve-step programs, happy pills-- or so the world would want people to believe... but nothing prescribed or recommended by any number of specialists could clear his mind of the broken bits of memories and the image of accusatory blue eyes fixed on his in her last moments-- a dark dream seared to the backs of his eyelids every night he slept.
May it be the shadow's call will fly away.
Even as she follows a blank-eyed Motoki into the darkened streets, bewildered eyes full of the innocence of a fawn walking into a trap, some part of her raised its hackles at the shadowy streets, a ghostly silhouette of a bride barely visible out of the corner of one eye, and already knew and struggled with the fact that tonight, someone important would be dying.
Better Than Ice Cream
He had the youthful, cocky grin of a teenager and a similar penchant for junk food, but just then, as he was lying on his back with sweat cooling his hot skin and her naked body-- pale as new milk-- sprawled over his own as she too tried to catch her breath, he thought that he might just have found something even better than fudge ripple to enjoy on a hot day.
Sacrifice
Mina understood the concept, really she did; nights and days without sleep and dodging the law to survive, no home to call her own outside of rooms that rented by the week... but nothing she'd ever given up, nothing she'd ever done, hurt even near as much as the brave smile she plastered on her face as she watched Kunzite walk away, the phantom weight of his lips still tingling against hers.
Heater
The thugs and dealers leered appreciatively, almost as a collective, as a raven-haired beauty in a fake black leather miniskirt strutted into the boss' office on yards of perfect leg-- yeah, Rico knew how to pick them. Ten minutes later, though, the place was surrounded by sirens and uniforms and the hooker-turned-cop pulled a cannon out from underneath the pleather, and it didn't bear thinking how she managed to stow a heater under a skirt that size. Yeah, Rico did always know how to pick them all right.
Rehab
"Have you ever considered getting help?" Mina asked disgustedly as she watched Zach pour the contents of about two dozen packets of Taco Bell Fire Sauce over his nachos until one could barely see the chips. "A twelve-step program, maybe rehab? Because that right there is just sick and wrong on sooo many levels."
Sometimes people leave you halfway through the wood
It was his planet, his kingdom, but it figured that Jupiter would choose those woods to meet him. The moon's bold white light barely illuminated her face through the thick cover of the leaves, and he couldn't see whether her eyes were dry to match her proud stance and straight shoulders as she bid him farewell with no promises and no recriminations. He could only watch as she turned to leave, her breath ragged for a moment in the stillness, and then she was gone, leaving him alone in the woods-- his kingdom, his planet, but her turf. He couldn't see the stars through the branches, but he already knew that he'd never come back to this spot.
Ribbon
"Do you believe the legend that soulmates are connected by ribbons to the heart?" she had asked him once, naked and drowsy and glowing like rose-gold against his sheets. He doesn't know why he remembers that now, but the hand holding the sword is already inexorably in motion, and a real ribbon tied over her heart stains red with blood as he slashes his weapon down.
It seemed like a good idea at the time
Flirting with the meek, solemnly pretty Mercurian senshi seemed like the thing to do at the time, since she was there and searching for her princess, and he was just being nice, really. That he'd get coshed in the head by a flying chessboard thrown by a spitting, hissing European king had been an unexpected side effect. The court scribe named Ryo reminded himself to think long and hard before approaching Mercury again.
I wish you weren't worth the wait
For someone who wielded the hottest flames with her fingertips, she was cold and implacable as ice when it came to him-- to them-- and there were bouquets of dead roses shriveling from crimson to the purple-black of bruises untouched in their vases, delivered once a week-- and had he been able, at any moment in any of his lives, to think of her without either love or hate bleeding through it so intensely that he was consumed by it, he might have given up. He wishes he could, every week, before he rings the florist and buys a dozen long-stemmed with a single note that reads "I'm sorry".
Your inner thighs smell like blueberries
Makoto raised an eyebrow at the garble coming out of the strange man's mouth, and slowly picked up her half-empty mojito. "That's funny. Yours must smell like durian. Let's rectify that, shall we? Mint leaves are often used to deodorize." Standing up, she tossed the rest of her drink in the man's lap and stalked away, muttering recriminations under her breath that Minako had suggested going to a bar for girls' night out rather than a completely sensible restaurant.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked
When Endymion traveled to the moon that last, fateful time, he was in silent mourning even while doing what he could to fortify the defenses of his beloved's kingdom-- he grieved for the burned villages and pillaged towns, the homes and temples reduced to rubble, the lost lives of countless soldiers and civilians alike on Earth-- but also for the four best friends he had ever known, four of the most honourable and courageous of brothers, who in the end fell also to the darkness in such a way that they would never even be allowed the dignity of dirges and graves.
Suddenly I don't remember the rules any more
"I'm not supposed to be here," she whispers as she pulls the hood back to reveal her telltale blue hair and eyes sparkling from running and anticipation, and dwarfed in a dark cloak, face pale in the dim candlelight of his room, all he can do is nod even as he steps forward and yanks her against him, forgetting that the Mercurian princess is out of his league, forgetting the most basic laws of his planet, forgetting the consequences that would befall them both if they continued this unwise and forbidden relationship, forgetting even to be gentle as he drinks in the taste of her lips and traps her against his door as her limbs wind around him and her presence fills his entire consciousness.
If you got through all that, you're a trooper. Congrats!