marginalia: (Default)
untitled. billy/dom au
160 words. loosely in the same verse as this drabble: cartographer. for [livejournal.com profile] beachkid's first lines meme.

he doesn’t take a jacket ‘cause he likes being cold )
marginalia: (Default)
[sheen] - dom/miranda
for [livejournal.com profile] starfishchick

There's a light sheen of sweat on Miranda's skin, and it suddenly makes sense to Dom, all the references to ladies glowing in the plays from America's Deep South.

He'd like to lick her there, that spot at the base of her throat and see if she tastes of salt or stardust. He'd get away with it. Dom's never been known as a bloke who could keep his tongue in his mouth. She'd slap him for show and follow it with a laugh, and her laugh is a glorious thing, but taste of her will be sweeter for the waiting.
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[shadow] - dom/draco for [livejournal.com profile] ezzvaldez
i can't write draco without it being clichéd, i guess. and really, i'm nearly finished with those requests. *and the crowd goes wild*

Dom sees Draco, thinks with that hair he could be an elf. Someday he'll stop thinking in terms of Rings, but today is not that day. Night. Whatever. All he knows is that he's had plenty to drink and the boy is pretty. That's enough.

Draco's not having the best night, but he's damn good at pretending. He saw Dom ten minutes ago. Dom has an energy about him crossed with a melancholy left-behindness. Draco can definitely identify with that.

They won't exchange names. They won't kiss on the mouth. They'll lance poison from wounds, move on through the shadows.
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stuff wot i wrote for [livejournal.com profile] tigannie_con (aka best virtual con evah, what with the drinking, the cloves, and the touchytouchy girl!love) crossposted mostly for [livejournal.com profile] dorrie6. thanks to all who gave me great feedback over in the grab bag threads.

sirius/bellatrix. 150 words. )


xander/dom. 150 words )


harry/neville. 150 words. )


ron/draco. 137 words. ha! )
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[moonlighting] - dom/ian for [livejournal.com profile] not_yet_tamed

Dominic is wicked. Wicked eyes, wicked tongue. Dominic is always looking for something new to get away with. Someone new.

The crew knows this. The cast knows this. Ian knows, or at least thinks he does. Ian gets up for a piss at 3am and sees Dominic, half dressed on the sofa, curled in on himself, burrowed into the back. Without missing a beat Ian says, “You know where the bedroom is. If you smother yourself on that monstrosity, it’s not my doing.” Dominic smirks in the shadows. Forgets he’s meant to be asleep.

Dominic’s not the only one looking.
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[diamonds on the beds of his thumbnails] - harry/elijah for [livejournal.com profile] ezzvaldez
this is officially the Latest Fic Ever. double drabble. slightly smutty for a change.

The whole dance floor is twisting and writhing )
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[satsumas] - dom/oz for [livejournal.com profile] minervacat
verona beach christmas in july! prompt was oranges.

It doesn't feel quite like Christmas, but Dominic is used to that after New Zealand, seasons all upside down and backwards. Dominic has a gift for creating space for himself wherever, whenever, so when he gives all he has there is a place to come back to. He has help now; Oz is a scavenger, finding the little things, the magic.

Tonight Oz produces oranges like a magician, one in each palm, wrapped in red tissue paper crinkling. They take them down to the beach, curl together on the sand, flicking away the white bits, talking of everything and nothing.
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[clouded] - sir ian/dominic
finished too late for [livejournal.com profile] lotrips100.

Sometimes Ian's eyes cloud over, like those of the woman who lived down the street from Dominic when he was small, the woman who had the Gift. Dominic had thought her old then, the way you think everyone is old when you are young. Now he's not so sure.

Ian's sheltered by mist and dreaming, and Dominic wants to ask him what he sees. He had never asked her, but that was long ago. Now Ian blinks the fog from his eyes and smiles a yes. When they touch it crinkles soft like paper, and Ian's mouth tastes of woodsmoke.
marginalia: (monaboyd)
waiting for epiphany - billy/dom
this was in my slasha brainstorm bits, but i realized it was a different story. so. here, while i struggle through slasha.

christmas-y drabble )
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misplaced - monaboyd.
[livejournal.com profile] 15minuteficlets. the photograph this time.

double drabble. merf. )
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[turn and run] - andy/astin

Sean recoils from Andy's touch, despises his weight as he hits the ground. He flushes when he feels Andy's solid strength behind him, and hopes it can be blamed on Sam's ruddy cheeks.

When Andy tears the wig off, it's a release. Sean springs as if from a trap and resists turning to see the reaction. Humor or pity, either would burn low through denial.

Hot tears spring up at the corners of his eyes. He wipes them away quickly and smiles sheepishly at the costumer. "It hurts, yeah?" she asks him, and he shrugs and drops into the chair.

(originally posted here.)
marginalia: (monaboyd)
happy birthday, [livejournal.com profile] strawberryelfsp!

tis but a wee giftie. school is tricksy.

harmony - billy/dom

sometimes they would sing )
marginalia: (monaboyd)
fluffy monaboyd drabble and a half for [livejournal.com profile] 15minuteficlets

all the way home )
marginalia: (monaboyd)
for [livejournal.com profile] 15minuteficlets. in medias res, monaboyd.

drabble )
marginalia: (Default)
untitled astin/elijah drabble for 15 minute ficlets )

and one more - for the [livejournal.com profile] lotrips100 quote/dialogue challenge, confession. quote from pam houston. astin/elijah. please, god, let it just be a phase.
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originally for the [livejournal.com profile] lotrips100 quotation challenge, but i overshot. by. um. 100. so, here's a double drabble. two quotes (well, one quote and one dialogue snippet) from the english patient, of all things.

sean's already tidying the room when elijah awakes )
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beautiful - andrew/elijah (for the btvs/rps challenge)

It catches Elijah at the oddest of moments. When he comes to bed late and Andrew curls around him, limbs heavy and warm with sleep.

Or watching Andrew perched on the edge of the couch mid game, his tongue poked out in concentration. Elijah, foot tapping a staccato beat, glances out of the corner of his eye and is awed by the intensity of focus.

Or moments later when Andrew's character suffers an untimely and violent death, and Andrew lets loose with a string of curse words in five languages, two of which are artificial.

Then it hits him.

Beautiful.
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drabble one for [livejournal.com profile] glossing & co.'s challenge

un/marked - riley/astin

They meet whenever the government and Hollywood allow them to inhabit the same city. Sean closes the curtains, allowing a sliver of moonlight. Riley will only touch him in the dark, never kissing, rough just short of leaving marks.

It's difficult for Sean sometimes, when he's taking Riley hard and fast, when he's hovering on the edge of control, when Riley's begging to be bitten and Sean can taste flesh between his teeth. Riley needs it wild, so Sean seeks the old scars and leaves them red.

When Riley leaves, he checks his neck in the mirror. Sean turns away.

hrm.

Sep. 18th, 2003 06:51 pm
marginalia: (Default)
twist - billy/cate for [livejournal.com profile] mcee

drabble. )

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