Drabbly-drabblety?
Aug. 23rd, 2006 10:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lyricalityI AM USING THIS ICON TO FEEL ACCOMPLISHED.
It is not working.
To follow a developing trend (yes, two people is a trend, hush up)and to have an excuse not to work on my portfolio, I am offering to do drabbles. Liek OMG, yes. My weird and varied fandoms are as follows:
Star Wars (don't break my brain too much with this)
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
PotC
HP
Sherlock Holmes
Lady in the Water
YuGiOh!
Tabula Rasa (have we established by now that this is, in fact, a fandom? =P )
King Kong (2005)
The Secret of NIMH
Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Anastasia
Gravitation
FFVII (including Advent Children)
Lazytown (I haven't actually tried this. It might be disturbing.)
...There is a high probability that you will get smut, or something close to it, because I have not been writing a lot of smut and am thus deprived. In fact, if you absolutely do NOT want smut...you should probably say so in your request. Eh heh heh. *tries to look innocent and FAILS*
It is not working.
To follow a developing trend (yes, two people is a trend, hush up)
Star Wars (don't break my brain too much with this)
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
PotC
HP
Sherlock Holmes
Lady in the Water
YuGiOh!
Tabula Rasa (have we established by now that this is, in fact, a fandom? =P )
King Kong (2005)
The Secret of NIMH
Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Anastasia
Gravitation
FFVII (including Advent Children)
Lazytown (I haven't actually tried this. It might be disturbing.)
...There is a high probability that you will get smut, or something close to it, because I have not been writing a lot of smut and am thus deprived. In fact, if you absolutely do NOT want smut...you should probably say so in your request. Eh heh heh. *tries to look innocent and FAILS*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
smut???
Date: 2006-08-24 05:03 am (UTC)I'd love to see a CatCF drabble, if you've got the time/inclination.
Re: smut???
Date: 2006-08-25 12:29 am (UTC)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The shift in his dreams was so slow and subtle that he barely noticed it. The chaotic imagery of the subconscious mind turned, condensed, and like pouring sugar into cream he felt it solidify, reform into something familiar and sweet, something desired. Another sifting, another push and he knew unthinking that he was making love, strangely still, dark hair gleaming against the pillows beneath them and white thighs locked around his waist, everything in slow motion except the low and desperate sounds of a familiar voice, rising in pleasure.
Then he felt real warmth and he was suddenly awake, shaken with unexpected ecstasy, and the voice was familiar because it was his own, and not Wonka’s. Wonka was incapable of speech just now, because his head was buried between Charlie’s legs.
“Oh fucking Christ,” Charlie breathed, astonished, entirely unguarded.
The obscenity was enough to distract Wonka from his purpose, lifting his head to regard his erstwhile protégée with smoky but reproachful eyes and beautifully swollen lips. “Charlie,” he said, stern, but closing his eyes for a moment as he rubbed one smooth, smooth cheek against the rigid length of Charlie’s erection.
“Oh God,” Charlie pleaded, his own eyes closing, his back arching up in silent supplication. “Don’t stop!”
Always a tease, Wonka brushed against him with his lips, tonguing just below the head until Charlie cried out again, wordless but wanting. “I wouldn’t,” he promised then, and drew in a breath before sliding Charlie deep into his mouth once more, into the warmth of his throat.
Shaking, Charlie arched back against the sheets, fingers tangling into the silk and toes helplessly curling. “You might,” he gasped, barely audible. “But I would forgive you for that, too.”
oh, I ALWAYS want smut!
Date: 2006-08-30 06:03 am (UTC)I loved the delicious smuttiness of it, of course, but I also loved the way you slipped the little things I LOVE about those characters into such a short piece. Wonka chiding Charlie for swearing was a lovely touch! And that ending line -- so sweet!
*still smiling*
(And I'm sorry it took me so long to reply to it . . . I loved it the first time I read it, of course, but I wasn't really feeling capable of replying to it then. Sometimes words simply fail me.)
Re: oh, I ALWAYS want smut!
Date: 2006-08-30 03:10 pm (UTC)You should also know that I meant to go to bed at a reasonable hour last night...and then stayed up late reading parts of Distance Makes the Heart. >.>
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 05:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 05:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 05:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 06:22 pm (UTC)~~~~~~~~~~~
She wrote her letter carefully, pink pen on white paper, because some habits were too good to ever grow out of. She didn't sign it, because he would know who it was from, even after four years of very irregular correspondence. Sometimes she had survived immobile classes like calculus, literature and even history by tapping one foot against the floor and thinking about playing basketball, or football, or dancing, working and working to time her movements to his.
Now she cranked back the handle and let her letter fly. A little stiff again, she noticed, and hoped the new mayor was taking care of the town correctly.
Waiting, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, brushing her hair back behind her ears and trying to think of what to say, how to sound sophisticated but still like herself. In the end, it didn't make any difference, because when he came flipping down the ladder and landed in front of her, hands resting confidently on his hips, all she could do was fling herself at him and wrap both arms around his waist, so glad to see him again that she was caught between sobbing and singing, a child all over again. "Sportacus!" He was still so familiar, his arms wrapping naturally around her...and it took her a moment to realize that familiar was wrong.
He should be older than this. And not so smooth, here, with musculature less defined, and not so tall, now that she was so tall herself. She pulled back enough to look at him fully, astonished. The eyes were wrong, not quite the same shade, the hair and the mustache just a hue lighter.
"You must be Stephanie," he said, with that same hint of an unusual accent, but a deeper voice and a more enthusiastic gleam to his eyes. He pointed to the double digits of the number on his chest. "I am Number Eleven."
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 11:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-25 05:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-30 12:37 am (UTC)Wordless, Qui-Gon moved behind her, hands sliding automatically to her shoulders and smoothing over the iron knots of muscle gathered at the back of her neck and along her shoulder blades. He tried never to probe too openly, but he did reach out to her through the unusual bond they shared, offering calm and projecting serenity, soothing her as much with his mind as with the touch of his hands...if she would allow it of him.
After a moment she leaned back into his touch, answering his mind with hers, returning the gesture as if they were clasping hands, or perhaps something deeper--like knitting muscle to bone. They balanced easily, but never quite the way Qui-Gon expected. More like shield and sword than blade against blade.
“She’ll live,” Claire murmured. He already knew.
The Council disliked sending them on missions together; their bond made the point moot. One of Yoda’s worst frustrations, Qui-Gon supposed, with an unbecoming surge of smugness. Wanting the bond severed, Mace had argued against Qui-Gon in Council sessions for some two months, but Qui-Gon had met him with the steeled resolved of an entirely determined mind and the new authority of his recent promotion to the Council itself. In any case, that position tended to keep him to Alderaan, where the Order had reestablished the Temple after the flight from Coruscant, and Claire--while her training was nominally complete, despite a great many breaches of tradition that gave Qui-Gon a certain wily glee--tended to remain near.
This mission was a rarity. Despite the strain on them both, he appreciated it for the relative privacy it gave them, together.
He was not particularly bothering to shield from her, and the slight catch of her breath, just a ripple of anticipation between them, suggested his thoughts had been overheard. “Qui-Gon,” she murmured aloud, her hands covering his. She was not yet entirely subtle, but always persistent, and after only a moment or two he yielded to her, opening his mind to hers and allowing her to read him however she would.
They would certainly never be conventional, Qui-Gon supposed some time later, when dawn was just staining the edges of the horizon with a touch of pink, and her body was tucked into the curve of his, her breathing shallowing in sleep. Nevertheless...the touch of the Force between them, and the devastating sense of home he felt every time he moved inside her... It convinced him that their path was right.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-30 10:37 am (UTC)muaha, as if she would do it any other way! :D :D
Oh, I love it, it's sooooo good. It's so them. *lovelovelove* That homeplot was the best thing ever, so I love AUs and stuff based on them going there again.
*massive love*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 11:14 am (UTC)If you don't do crossovers, then Charlie/Wonka with sparkly things and cream.
And if you do do crossovers - the same, only with added Captain Jack Sparrow and paprika. Which might complicate the smut, except that it's Sparrow, so maybe not. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-30 12:40 am (UTC)Charlie couldn’t think why he was so unnerved.
Except, of course, that this new friend had the same coy curve to his lips that Wonka did...whenever Wonka was considering something particularly inappropriate. Then there was the physical appearance, because he might well have stepped straight out of a very peculiar film starring both Errol Flynn and say, Vincent Price. With score by David Bowie.
“It’ll suit you well enough,” said this Captain Sparrow, the undeniably husky turn to his words still failing to entirely hide the similarity of his voice to Charlie’s own mentor. Unsettling.
Wonka arched a perfect brow, his expression outwardly stern, but his eyes a glimmering mirror in meaning and mischief to the brown pair across the desk from him. “I should hope so. I have...peculiarly high standards.”
“Aye.” Sparrow’s grin gleamed strangely gold, white contrasting capped teeth. “Well, I happen to be in a peculiarly profitable position to understand that.” He glanced sideways, meeting the undisguised wariness of Charlie’s gaze, and after a contemplative moment he raised a dark eyebrow, reflecting Wonka’s more prim expression. “Found something to stare at, lad?”
Charlie wasn’t quite as good at it, but he arched a brow. “Aye,” he mimicked. “At the two of you.” He felt an unaccountable shiver down his back when Wonka and Sparrow suddenly laughed together, one light and the other low, in perfect harmony.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-18 05:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 03:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-25 12:20 am (UTC)“Too old, this one,” Gawain muttered, from somewhere just to his right.
Lancelot manfully suppressed the urge to round on him--on all of them--and impolitely tell them to leave him the hell alone. “I’m capable of doing this myself.”
He received an uncaring snort in response. Percivale arched an elegant brow at him over the back of a sorrel mare, apparently equally unconvinced, and Lancelot rewarded him with a simmering scowl before turning on his heel and making for the other side of the pasture. So doting and caring when they wanted to be, the lot of them, and they made him want to scream.
Just then, something struck him squarely on the ass and nearly sent him sprawling face-first into the dirt.
Regaining his balance, he swung around, ready to pay Gawain or Bors or Gaheris or whoever the hell had dared, back in full measure. Instead, he came up against the white side of a very young stallion, one of its hooves still lifted. “Hey,” he snarled, and the horse twisted a bit, ready to kick again, but Lancelot caught its head by the bridle in one firm hand, dragging it back around to face him, close enough to impress his will upon it eye to eye. The horse snorted, shaking its head slightly in defiance, but meeting his eyes. Brown eyes, strangely gold at the edges. “Bastard,” Lancelot told him, but mildly.
The stallion’s ears pricked forward. He stood steady, now, oddly docile when Lancelot ran one hand along his neck, examining his formation with a distantly critical eye. Still young, but he would be strong enough, tall enough.
“Too young,” Gawain said, disapproving, as he came up to stand with arms crossed over his chest. “Too skinny, anyway.”
“It is young.” Arthur had materialized apparently out of nowhere, coming close enough that his bicep brushed against Lancelot’s shoulder when he reached out to smooth a hand under the horse’s mane. “But seems to be from excellent stock. Besides…” He raised a brow, using his other hand to surreptitiously brush off the back of Lancelot’s tunic, where the horse’s hoof had left a perfect half-moon of dust. “This one seems to have left its mark.”
The stallion chose that moment to dart out his head, nipping at Arthur’s hand, and the Roman commander jerked back with a mild oath.
Lancelot grinned widely, unapologetic, his hand keeping its place securely along the horse’s cheek. Whickering low, the stallion let out a whuff of breath against his hair. “Oh yes,” he said. “This is the one.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, that is not what you asked for at all, I've just been wanting an excuse to write it for months. So I wrote you another one. Heeee. ♥ Next comment, because it was too long. =P
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-25 02:08 am (UTC)“Slow--slow down.” Hands trapped his hips, steadying him, holding him back, and Gareth writhed against the restriction for a moment or two before settling into a sort of trembling acquiescence, his hips rocking very slightly nevertheless. Lancelot kept him like that for a minute, lightly shuddering with the sensation of holding both of them back. Gareth curled both hands over his, making low and pleading sounds in his throat, then nearly growling when Lancelot tightened his grip and thrust deep, deeper, setting a new rhythm that made him arch his back and grasp for something solid. His fingers dug into the bedsheets.
He treasured this, even when it was only physical, nothing deeper than need and passion warring on the surface. He loved it more thoroughly when Lancelot took him, driving into him and needing something deeper than just the acceptance of his body.
Right now he felt connected, needed, and filled. Lancelot was taking him from the back, deeper penetration than he had ever before experienced, and he was lightheaded with it, already rising on each thrust, gasping when Lancelot’s hand curled around his cock and stroked him until he spasmed unexpectedly in release. “Yes,” he hissed, purposefully tightening, squeezing until Lancelot made a strangled sound and bit into his shoulder, filling him with liquid warmth.
Gareth reached down, curled one hand around Lancelot’s and drew it to his lips.
“I love you,” he breathed, delicately licking, unexpectedly fierce. “Don’t ever forget.”
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 06:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-25 12:25 am (UTC)Her arms tightened around his back, one slim leg still wrapped around his hips. “You say thankya one more time...” she murmured, sleepily content, the threat underlying the words nevertheless, and he shut up, content to just tremble in the expected strength of her embrace. Pleasant to feel his breathing slow, normalize, to watch the flutter of her heartbeat in the hollow of her throat as hers did the same. Beauty in the contrast of his skin against hers, light against dark, star against sky.
He’d done this before, but never like this. Maybe it was different every time. He wanted to ask her, but he didn’t want to remind her of what she had lost.
“Thank you,” he whispered again instead, and raised up enough to kiss her again, to keep her from punishing him for being so grateful for her love.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-25 12:34 am (UTC)And ded of sweet.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-25 12:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 07:52 pm (UTC)... >_>
Mmmmsmut? :D
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-30 12:41 am (UTC)Qui-Gon drew in an unsteady breath. It was the question, always the question between them, and he had no more answer for it now than he had ever had, would ever have. His hands had been resting against her slim shoulders, but now he slid both arms around her, drew her even closer. His fingers splayed against the firmly round curve of her belly, protective. “Then I would protect you,” he murmured, promising in both word and deed. “If need be.” And I would protect him...if need be.
Beneath his hands, the growing child kicked once, twice, then shifted, making his lips curve.
“She’s an acrobat,” Padme muttered, not quite complaining, although she did arch her back a bit and rest her weight more fully against Qui-Gon’s chest.
He chuckled very low. “Well, she is a Jedi.” His hand rubbed lightly, soothingly against the lower curve of her stomach, and he felt the shifting flutter of the baby quieting again. “No one ever promised simplicity in that.”
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-30 12:44 am (UTC)ilu. O_O
And that vaugly makes me want an AU. :( *loses*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 09:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-26 01:29 am (UTC)The question was a quietly contemplative one, Robin's fingers splaying leanly against Jareth's chest like the wing of a bird, measuring the slowing rhythm of his heart.
Lazily sated, Jareth drew in a slow breath. "Move them yourself," he suggested dryly, without opening his eyes. His fingers slid through the long silk of Robin's hair, untangling the strands. Around them, Robin could feel the Labyrinth settling again, corridors untwisting, smoothing to better suit the mind of its master. Always complicated, yes, but currently languorous as well.
"Can't." Robin curved around him, tangling their legs together and speaking against the angle of Jareth's jaw. "Beyond me, I'm afraid." He moved between worlds easily, but he never moved worlds.
Jareth opened one eye. The blue one, Robin noted. "I do believe I've given you enough."
"That's a pity," Robin purred, shifting to straddle him fully, his hair falling around them in a dark wave, his eyes already starlit. "I still have more that I wanted to give to you." The balance between them went unsteady with his offer, the scales tipping, and Jareth made a faint sound of irritation and acquiescence. The sky beyond the tower window brightened for just a moment, throwing both of them into relief with the light of a single falling star.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-30 08:18 pm (UTC)this is what i get for not checking this email in forever..... holy SHIT lyric i love you. al;skjdfl;akgjkajshdfoawijgl;aisjfl;kajdio;fjwae;otijeatlsdf.
<33333333333333333333333333333333
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-24 11:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-30 05:40 am (UTC)The touch of one gloved hand woke Qui-Gon out of whatever half-conscious state he had achieved, and he pulled back from it as best he could, drawing in a sharp breath, a moment of panic, without recognition. After a second or two he registered the unyielding shapes beneath the glove, long spindles of metal flexing, the very faintest whirr of machinery. Anakin, then. He opened one eye; the other was still swollen shut. For now he simply regarded Anakin silently, ostensibly waiting for him to speak, in actuality waiting for his vision to focus a bit.
When it cleared, Anakin was looking pale and poignant, not particularly composed. He was holding a cup, and kept holding it patiently while Qui-Gon did his best to drink from it, lacking depth perception and physical fortitude just now. “I’m sorry,” he whispered at last, after a long silence, and then he flung the cup to one side, shattering it against the floor. “It wasn’t supposed to be...” He shook his head, strangely belligerent, too juvenile still despite the dangerous fire burning blue in his eyes. “He promised.”
“I hadn’t guessed.” Qui-Gon’s voice sounded ragged, and he gave a pointed glance at the strips of synthetic fabric that bound both wrists above his head. Surprisingly strong weave. With a sigh, he closed his eye again. “Xanatos promises a great many things, Ani.”
He felt the more hesitant touch of a human hand this time, fingers curving against his cheek, Anakin’s breath strangely sweet against his lips for just a moment. “I don’t know how to stop,” Anakin said, his voice a growl, the words tinged with an aspect of the confessional nevertheless. “How to stop him or...even myself--”
With weary determination, Qui-Gon turned his head a bit. Just enough to press them together, forehead to forehead, drawing strength from each other. “It will be all right,” he murmured. “Whatever else happens. It will be all right.” Anakin’s sudden kiss did not surprise him, but the faint taste of desperation in that perfect mouth did. Even so, he could wait. For Xanatos, control was always an illusion of greater or lesser quality. Given enough patience, he could find the proper tool to bring the pieces of this particular deception shattering apart.
:cries:
Date: 2006-09-04 08:27 pm (UTC)love your work, as always. i read the drabbles pretty quickly, only got a few minutes. but they were wonderful. congrats on welcome back to writing smut...