12.
This post is a combination of me being bored out of my mind and being incapable of writing anything. Admittedly, the boredom could go away if I worked on my homework, but such minor details are beneath us.
Give me a pairing and a song lyric from one of the following fandoms and I will write you a drabble.
You know my fandoms. I hope you know my ( Read more... )
Give me a pairing and a song lyric from one of the following fandoms and I will write you a drabble.
You know my fandoms. I hope you know my ( Read more... )
Comments 26
Cristina/Burke. "Morning was mocking us, blood hit the sky. I was just happy, my manic and I."
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read me like blood. like water.
Yellow light hits her face, wakefulness coming with it.
On-call rooms aren’t ideal for deep sleep, and the circles beneath her eyes might as well read surgeon. Still, laughter clings to the edges of her mouth and he’d like to see her dreams, if only to understand what this is.
He’s a smart man. By any standard he’s a smart man. She throws him for a loop.
Always she throws him for a loop.
Light hits her face and she wakes, smiling at him.
If he were really a smart man, he’d end this now. Before trouble comes.
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Sam/Donna
Don't let it be forgot, that once there was a spot for a brief and shining moment, that was known as Camelot
And now I'm going to class to watch A Proportional Response and talk about Gaza. *whines* I don't want to talk about Gaza, I want to watch something Josh!
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Before it all changed, before ideals slipped into scandal, before he left, severed all ties, didn’t look back, there was an afternoon.
One single sunlit afternoon.
A chance meeting on the Mall, cherry blossoms flying through the air, a bench, and pretzel shared at Lincoln’s feet.
He quoted Shakespeare to her, laughed when she quoted back.
It was one perfect spring afternoon.
She got up, dusting the blossoms from her hair, helped him to his feet, and laughed when he twirled her ‘round to a silent waltz.
Later, he snapped the light off. Gathered his possessions, snapped the light off, and went to California, went to go lose an election.
Her eyes never cried over cherry blossoms.
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You should ask for more, I'm still bored and I won't have any classes tomorrow morning.
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Will you write Josh/Ainsley if I ask nicely? It's okay if you won't, I just want to know what my options are. ^^
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Except now I have to write Justin/Alex.
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Oh, Boo. That's such a terrible thing. Stop whining and get to it.
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And why would I be sorry about that, exactly?
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"We are all too young to die"
Toby/Ainsley
"It was trapped between two lungs"
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He falls from grace.
She watches his public unraveling with the sort of derision and righteous anger that she’s known for.
Truth is, the best stories are the one’s that aren’t told.
There was one night, in his office. There was one night and she was lobbing for support or favors or something and he was watching her, from beneath eyelashes.
She was lobbing, hands motioning through the air, dark hair falling in waves, anger and passion seeping through her pores.
You’re a smart woman, Ms. Gardner.
She smiled at him, smiled into his eyes, and even smart women are susceptible to clever eyes.
Apparently not.
She said it against his lips.
In the morning, he felt like the other man.
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Thank you for writing it, though. *grins*
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Consummate Democrat meet dyed in the wool Republican.
She’s a snap of intelligence wrapped in a blonde Southerner. It’s not enough to throw him.
He laughs only when she’s going for serious, laughs only when something hurts too much for words, and she understands in spite of herself.
He doesn’t play nice, doesn’t welcome her or try to be friends, and she should hate him, but there’s relief in such honesty.
She takes his coolness as a personality trait and never looks twice. But then there is a party and a drink and his hand slips to her elbow.
A dark corner and his beard scratches her neck. He’s not handsome, but she’s always had a thing for nice eyes.
Won’t they throw you out of the club for this?
He laughs and she’d swear it was from joy.
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James/Sirius
But a hero’s what I want to be
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Two boys on a train.
Two boys on a train and the word for this is friendship.
Two boys. Two different shades of pureblood. Two childhood homes and two broken futures intertwined like grapevines.
Beginnings always taste bitter in hindsight, but bitter doesn’t cover this.
James meet Sirius.
James meet Sirius and the English countryside spins by and the sun shines and laughter rings.
Friendship blooms and the future holds trust and joy and tears and betrayal.
The future holds magic and the future holds love, in all its terrible forms.
Two boys on a train and the hours fly by.
Friendship doesn’t cover this.
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