here we go
from Nicole:
1. Put iTunes on shuffle
2. Write a drabble for the first 10 songs
3. Must be written during the time of the song
4. Tag 5 people
caution: some may suck.
... and yes, one is set in the Iron Man movieverse.
... okay, okay, one's Harry Potter too.
i. chapped stick chapped lips and things like chemistry, relient k
It wasn't that he was aggressive, particularly; just that he seemed incredibly determined that she was the one he wanted. She knew he didn't want what she wanted - she wanted a stable, sensible relationship, something that would carry her over into the next few years if possible, and he wanted to gather her up in his arms and whisk her away into the sunset with no forethought or afterthought. When he sidled up to her in the middle of the crowded room and asked her to dance she shook her head and turned away knowing full well that he was going to try something ridiculous like pushing her into a dip and trying to kiss her but what she didn't expect was that he took her hand silently and drew her away into the throng.
-
ii. sunrise, norah jones
The fog hadn't lifted, the cold hadn't passed, and he was glad for this. He lay on his side gazing at her sleeping form, hands clasped tightly under her chin and away from him, curled up in what could be best described as a ball. Her feet were cold under the covers and every time she shifted and grazed her skin against his, warm tingles danced across his flash. He swallowed, placed his hand on her cotton-clad hip, and closed his eyes.
-
iii. strawberry fields forever, jim sturgess in across the universe
Bum ba bum ba bum ba bum bum ba, the marching band struck every note with precision, knees rising to the players' chests in perfect synchronization, eyes fixed on the back of the head of the person in front of them. The city was crumbling. Bullets ricocheted off every glass building, smashing the silverly glass which hung in the air for a second before crashing down like shards of rain around the band. The sharp wheee wheee of missiles punctuated the air, sending fiery clouds up just metres away. This was their music. And they marched on.
-
iv. sunsets and car crashes, the spill canvas
Walking away had been easy, but it was not turning back that was hard. They were in perfect rhythm even after disaster, footsteps echoing softly sending sound waves back to meet head on. Neither of them looked back. Maybe that was the beauty in this, the control that powered their ramrod-straight backs and perfect small steps, the gears that turned in their minds that they forced themselves to stop, blank out all the memories which threatened to break down the solid wall they'd built to keep anything that reminded them away. It was terrible and beautiful and as soon as both knew they weren't ever going to turn back, all they could do was lick their lips and close their eyes. No tears came.
-
v. konstantine, something corporate
She was always asked how she could deal with it, personal assistant to the greatest mind of the twenty-first century, the merchant of death turned the man of iron who destroyed his own weapons in the hopes it would bring peace. She always smiled at this. "I make sure I have a drink ready for him," she would say, to tittering laughter that bordered on the edge of nerous, because a drunk man enclosed in an iron suit with the power of fifty types of firearms at his disposal didn't seem like a good idea. But the fact was, she didn't deal with it. Once she heard a resounding silence coming from his workshop she would rush down the stairs in her Louboutins, gaze out the hole in the ceiling into the empty black sky and pray that he would come back soon, come back safely, come back to her. Because she didn't think she could ever last if he never came back. For all the naked women she helped redress, all the important meetings she learnt to reschedule time after time, all the wounds she'd learned to treat and all the questions she'd learned not to ask, Pepper needed him. Needed him as much as he needed her to remember his Social Security Number, where his pants were and where he had gotten piss-drunk the night before. She would sit on that cold concrete floor, stare up into that empty black sky and wait.
He would always come home.
-
vi. gold lion, yeah yeah yeahs
Sometimes he would lie in bed and stare at the ceiling in the complete dark. He could always hear her quiet breathing as she slept beside him and he waited until it developed into gentle snores before he slipped out of bed and pushed his glasses on to his face. He'd pad quietly out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the front door into the cool green grass under his bare feet and sit there, eyes up at the full moon. The moon...
She'd find him there in the morning, sleeping sprawled out on the dewy ground, hair askew as always, and shake her head.
-
vii. blackbird, the beatles
It was war and death, all the time, everywhere. Even the suffocating darkness that fell every night held foreboding of what was to come the next morning. They needed a white flag to save them, and only one woman could give it to them. And while they waited, they fought.
>-
viii. blue orchid, the white stripes
There was no magic in her smile, curving over her face like a lion's grin, eyes glittering with secrets that would never show. It paralyzed him, froze him to the floor, and planted a madness into his brain, the same madness that compelled him to walk woodenly to the Italian jewellery store across the street and bring her the four-stranded choker of black pearls she'd pointedly admired the day before.
-
ix. cupid's chokehold, gym class heroes
Five steps away from her, he told himself he was still young, there were still girls, there was still time to think and heal if this didn't work out. Four steps away from her, he reminded himself that there were other important things too; things like school and work (oh hell, it's not like he had work anyway) and his friends who he hoped were not the people he could hear snickering behind him. Three steps away from her, he realised he was a complete idiot and of course his friends were laughing at him. Two steps away from her, he panicked shit what if she hates the colour of my shirt and oh shit I spilled ketchup on my pants yesterday what if she thinks I'm a dirty rat and shit shit shit what if she doesn't even remember my name?. One step away from her, all thought disappeared and she turned around, all perfect and angelic dark skin and darker freckles. "I-" he said, and passed out.
-
x. talking bird, death cab for cutie
The wine was deep red and smooth, tickling its way down her throat and she closed her eyes as it trickled down to a warm, pleasantly pleased part of her stomach. Moments like this and she forgot everything around her - the bustling, noisy people, the ugly fluourescent light of the restaurant, the person she didn't even know sitting across from her and trying to impress her with tales of bravado and heroics. All she needed was herself.
1. Put iTunes on shuffle
2. Write a drabble for the first 10 songs
3. Must be written during the time of the song
4. Tag 5 people
caution: some may suck.
... and yes, one is set in the Iron Man movieverse.
... okay, okay, one's Harry Potter too.
i. chapped stick chapped lips and things like chemistry, relient k
It wasn't that he was aggressive, particularly; just that he seemed incredibly determined that she was the one he wanted. She knew he didn't want what she wanted - she wanted a stable, sensible relationship, something that would carry her over into the next few years if possible, and he wanted to gather her up in his arms and whisk her away into the sunset with no forethought or afterthought. When he sidled up to her in the middle of the crowded room and asked her to dance she shook her head and turned away knowing full well that he was going to try something ridiculous like pushing her into a dip and trying to kiss her but what she didn't expect was that he took her hand silently and drew her away into the throng.
-
ii. sunrise, norah jones
The fog hadn't lifted, the cold hadn't passed, and he was glad for this. He lay on his side gazing at her sleeping form, hands clasped tightly under her chin and away from him, curled up in what could be best described as a ball. Her feet were cold under the covers and every time she shifted and grazed her skin against his, warm tingles danced across his flash. He swallowed, placed his hand on her cotton-clad hip, and closed his eyes.
-
iii. strawberry fields forever, jim sturgess in across the universe
Bum ba bum ba bum ba bum bum ba, the marching band struck every note with precision, knees rising to the players' chests in perfect synchronization, eyes fixed on the back of the head of the person in front of them. The city was crumbling. Bullets ricocheted off every glass building, smashing the silverly glass which hung in the air for a second before crashing down like shards of rain around the band. The sharp wheee wheee of missiles punctuated the air, sending fiery clouds up just metres away. This was their music. And they marched on.
-
iv. sunsets and car crashes, the spill canvas
Walking away had been easy, but it was not turning back that was hard. They were in perfect rhythm even after disaster, footsteps echoing softly sending sound waves back to meet head on. Neither of them looked back. Maybe that was the beauty in this, the control that powered their ramrod-straight backs and perfect small steps, the gears that turned in their minds that they forced themselves to stop, blank out all the memories which threatened to break down the solid wall they'd built to keep anything that reminded them away. It was terrible and beautiful and as soon as both knew they weren't ever going to turn back, all they could do was lick their lips and close their eyes. No tears came.
-
v. konstantine, something corporate
She was always asked how she could deal with it, personal assistant to the greatest mind of the twenty-first century, the merchant of death turned the man of iron who destroyed his own weapons in the hopes it would bring peace. She always smiled at this. "I make sure I have a drink ready for him," she would say, to tittering laughter that bordered on the edge of nerous, because a drunk man enclosed in an iron suit with the power of fifty types of firearms at his disposal didn't seem like a good idea. But the fact was, she didn't deal with it. Once she heard a resounding silence coming from his workshop she would rush down the stairs in her Louboutins, gaze out the hole in the ceiling into the empty black sky and pray that he would come back soon, come back safely, come back to her. Because she didn't think she could ever last if he never came back. For all the naked women she helped redress, all the important meetings she learnt to reschedule time after time, all the wounds she'd learned to treat and all the questions she'd learned not to ask, Pepper needed him. Needed him as much as he needed her to remember his Social Security Number, where his pants were and where he had gotten piss-drunk the night before. She would sit on that cold concrete floor, stare up into that empty black sky and wait.
He would always come home.
-
vi. gold lion, yeah yeah yeahs
Sometimes he would lie in bed and stare at the ceiling in the complete dark. He could always hear her quiet breathing as she slept beside him and he waited until it developed into gentle snores before he slipped out of bed and pushed his glasses on to his face. He'd pad quietly out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the front door into the cool green grass under his bare feet and sit there, eyes up at the full moon. The moon...
She'd find him there in the morning, sleeping sprawled out on the dewy ground, hair askew as always, and shake her head.
-
vii. blackbird, the beatles
It was war and death, all the time, everywhere. Even the suffocating darkness that fell every night held foreboding of what was to come the next morning. They needed a white flag to save them, and only one woman could give it to them. And while they waited, they fought.
>-
viii. blue orchid, the white stripes
There was no magic in her smile, curving over her face like a lion's grin, eyes glittering with secrets that would never show. It paralyzed him, froze him to the floor, and planted a madness into his brain, the same madness that compelled him to walk woodenly to the Italian jewellery store across the street and bring her the four-stranded choker of black pearls she'd pointedly admired the day before.
-
ix. cupid's chokehold, gym class heroes
Five steps away from her, he told himself he was still young, there were still girls, there was still time to think and heal if this didn't work out. Four steps away from her, he reminded himself that there were other important things too; things like school and work (oh hell, it's not like he had work anyway) and his friends who he hoped were not the people he could hear snickering behind him. Three steps away from her, he realised he was a complete idiot and of course his friends were laughing at him. Two steps away from her, he panicked shit what if she hates the colour of my shirt and oh shit I spilled ketchup on my pants yesterday what if she thinks I'm a dirty rat and shit shit shit what if she doesn't even remember my name?. One step away from her, all thought disappeared and she turned around, all perfect and angelic dark skin and darker freckles. "I-" he said, and passed out.
-
x. talking bird, death cab for cutie
The wine was deep red and smooth, tickling its way down her throat and she closed her eyes as it trickled down to a warm, pleasantly pleased part of her stomach. Moments like this and she forgot everything around her - the bustling, noisy people, the ugly fluourescent light of the restaurant, the person she didn't even know sitting across from her and trying to impress her with tales of bravado and heroics. All she needed was herself.