well, la-di-da

[lirazel]

I’m…all keyed up for some reason? And bored? So pick one of my icons and I’ll write a drabble-esque thingie for it? Possibly, if I get inspired? I make no guarantees?

Or hey, if you just want to prompt me, I’ll write you a three sentence fic? I don’t even know. Give me things to write and if they strike my fancy I will write them. If they don't, you will be disappointed. Either way, it distracts me.

Have an Andrew icon. Oh, isn’t he pretty?

Comments

[penny-lane-42.livejournal.com]

There’s a gnawing fear that lurks around the corners of Anita’s mind as she moves through her day, focusing on getting her stitches just right and mothering Maria or exploring every inch of Bernardo’s body. No matter what, she can never forget that when he leaves her, he goes out into a world that’s just as desperate and violent, in its own way, as the one they left behind when they came to this Land of Promise, and her nightmares are full of little boys playing at a war that suddenly turns too real, and even as she presses her sticky skin against his, she thinks she can smell the scent of blood.

But when they dance, the world is music and color and movement and joy, and she forgets to worry, just for a little while.

[petzipellepingo.livejournal.com]

Very nice, beautiful sense of foreboding.