case: (Default)
Case ([personal profile] case) wrote in [community profile] fandomsecrets2014-07-17 06:31 pm

[ SECRET POST #2753 ]


⌈ Secret Post #2753 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 01 pages, 016 secrets from Secret Submission Post #393.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-17 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, post your favorite lines from things you've written! Fic, meta, essays, original fic, scientific papers, forum comments, whatever. Brag a little bit. Tell me why you like that line. Was it difficult to write? Do you think it's funny? Was it cathartic in some way? Post as many as you want; don't be shy! Pretend you are creating a portfolio of your favorite lines.

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-17 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
"How does your son taste?"
fingalsanteater: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] fingalsanteater 2014-07-17 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Abraxas, is that you?

(is it sad I recognize that?)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-17 23:30 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-17 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
(Context: both characters are war veterans. The first speaker was a commander in the war, and made a choice that ended in a tragedy.)

"That still doesn't stop the nightmares."

"They prove you're still human. It's when the nightmares stop, or stop being nightmares, that you need to worry."

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-17 23:50 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-18 02:18 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-17 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
"The stars fell to the ground with a horrifying noise like a scream or a laugh or a sob. Their light dyed the world a pristine, untouched white, bright like thrown welding sparks, bright enough to blind. Down back alleys and in hidden crevices, the darkness hid, a pure, unrelenting black, dark like a desert night hidden by clouds, dark enough to blind."

Believe it or not, I wrote this during what was meant to be a workshop on love poetry. I also wrote a moralistic story about the horrors of drug abuse and a lot of stuff about why love is stupid (all of these were assigned, they weren't just a whim). It was an interesting workshop, but in absolutely no way related to what we were nominally there for.

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-18 00:57 (UTC) - Expand
fingalsanteater: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] fingalsanteater 2014-07-17 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
I have so many! Honestly, I mostly enjoy the stupid shit I write. I used to think you were supposed to hate what you wrote, but I rarely do.

From John Boehner Gets a Spanking and Likes It:

"Now," said Obama, smirking, "I've had just about enough of you and your house of unruly children. I'm normally not a believer in corporal punishment, but I think I can make an exception for those who try to destroy my America." He thwacked the paddle across his palm for effect.

John felt the effect in his pants.

"B-b-but, Mr. President! You can't do this! It's unconstitutional!"

"Bring it up with the Supreme Court, then."


Reason: It makes me laugh every time I read it. Yes, I reread this fic often because it cracks me up. I laugh at my own jokes and I'm not sorry.

From Untitled Korrasami Fic in which the girls get warm with sex:

"I'll warm you up," said Korra, wiggling her fingers and laughing.

Asami quirked her eyebrow and said, "Roasting me with your fire bending isn't warming me up; it's grievous bodily harm."


Reason: Personally, I think I'm terrible at writing comedy, but I find this exchange to be mildly funny.

From a recap of some terrible movie called The Eyes Behind the Stars:

Daft Punk kidnaps Gowron to serve as hors d'oeuvres

Reason: The imagery.

From some B5 crack where Londo has to staff a sex chat line and G'Kar either accidentally or purposefully calls it:

But, in any event, G’Kar comms this sex chat line (voice only, no vid) and Londo answers, managing to sound half bored, half disdainful and all really fucking sexy.

Reason: I dunno. Just imagining this scenario cracks me up. Londo voice porn?

Meta on Londo's non-apologies (episode 'No Retreat, No Surrender'):

Londo tells G'Kar he's thankful for his help, that he feels sympathy for him, that he respects him. None of this is an apology either. He can slit his wrists, because Centuari have no major arteries there, as a tactic to avoid revealing the most vulnerable part of him, the part that would truly cause him to bleed out.

Reason: Centauri anatomy metaphors. :3

From an untitled Janeway/Seven fic:

Janeway interrupted him again, frustrated this time. “If you think what? What would you have me do, Doctor? Order one of my crew to allow Seven of Nine to penetrate them with alien parasite intent on infiltrating their body with its offspring?”

Reason: jfc I can't believe I wrote that that's hysterical

And, there you have it, more than a few of my favorite lines and an example of the kind of stuff I write.

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] cbrachyrhynchos 2014-07-17 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"Stubble is one of those human things Sean just cannot get right. He attempts a beard about once a month. The last try grew out three feet long in an hour, had the texture of Spanish moss, and made me sneeze so hard, he had to run out to the drugstore for antihistamine. "
feotakahari: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] feotakahari 2014-07-17 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't have a lot of good one-liners, so I'll post a longer scene.

-- -- -- --

The recess bell rang, and a river of small children flowed out the door onto the playground. The teacher smiled to see a few stragglers--the morning’s lesson had evidently proven interesting. Still, none of them ultimately resisted the call of slides and tire swings.

None save one.

Annie was filling up a sketchbook, outlining detailed landscapes in plain black and white. She didn’t look up when the teacher approached, but she turned the book and set it down. “You can see it if you want, Mrs. Wilcox.”

Mrs. Wilcox studied the page. It was only half finished, but it was leaps and bounds above anything Annie had done for art assignments. For that matter, it was more expressive than many of the drawings the eighth graders made. Even in pencil, with no colors added, precise shading created the illusion of a vivid sunrise over a grassy hill. And at the base of the hill . . .

“Horses?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you draw anything living before.”

“Ponies,” Annie said. “At first, I wanted to make something like my Pony Princess dolls, but those are silly. These need to be better.”

Mrs. Wilcox thumbed through the pages. A pony with bat wings, fighting some kind of scorpion monster . . . A pony with a horn, riding on a griffon’s back . . . Two ponies playing chess inside a cave . . . “These are really good,” she said.

“You don’t need to patronize me, Mrs. Wilcox,” Annie said, still looking down at her desk.

The teacher combed through her memory, trying unsuccessfully to think of another time she’d heard a child Annie’s age use the word “patronize.” She’d taught gifted students before, of course, but Annie always made her feel distinctly outmatched.

“There’s going to be a schoolwide art contest in March,” Mrs. Wilcox attempted. “Almost every year, the grand winner is from seventh or eighth grade. But I think you might win with one of these.”

“They’re not perfect,” Annie said. “Not yet.”

“They don’t have to be,” Mrs. Wilcox said. “None of the other drawings in the contest will be perfect.”

Annie finally looked up to meet the teacher’s eyes. “They do have to be perfect. There needs to be a world that’s better than Earth.”

Mrs. Wilcox called Annie’s parents that night, leaving a message saying that she was worried about their daughter. Annie deleted it before anyone else could hear it.

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-18 00:17 (UTC) - Expand
icecheetah: A Cat Person holds a large glowing lightbulb (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] icecheetah 2014-07-17 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
I really, really wish that I had a certain journal with me, because in the middle of a crack fic I was writing for stress relief was one of the most beautiful things I think I'll ever write. I can't even begin to reproduce it without it, and even if I had it to hand it would take ages to write it because my own handwriting is terrible and has confused me.

Like the time I wrote "Dolphins are easy to detect," in my notes on something, came back later, and couldn't work out what I meant by "Octopii are easy to defrost."

So instead I will give you a sad, and very important line from a story I am planning.

"My mother didn't love me until she was dead. What use is that?"

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-17 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
The machine-made-God (because that's what it is, isn't it, she thinks, and her mind whispers yes) looks up at her, and in the depths of its eyes she sees knowledge, and power, and a deep cold hatred.

It's from one of the surreal flash fiction stories I wrote about two years ago, and this one has definitely held up better than the rest of them. Which makes sense, because stories written as a coping mechanism for major emotional crashes are not generally known for their consistent quality.
caecilia: (shauna my bb)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] caecilia 2014-07-18 12:04 am (UTC)(link)
Deanna noticed and laughed. "You're such a little slut." she said, wiping frosting all over Toreth's face.

This is from an in-progress collaboration with our own [personal profile] fingalsanteater. I think that this line, more than any other, completely sums up who I am as a writer. I'll let that speak for itself. It was easy to write--so easy--it just entered my brain like a bolt from the blue and went directly from there to my hands, to my keyboards, to fingal, and now to all of you. I think it's hilarious and yes, it was a little bit cathartic.
mekkio: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] mekkio 2014-07-18 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
From an original ongoing vampire novel-

Lenny clucked his tongue in disappointment. “Then he is going to be the death of you.”

He rose from the bed and retrieved his jacket. Mako closed his eyes as he heard the man make his way toward the door.

“And what will you do if he does do that?”

“Well, then I am going to learn how an upyr works on the inside.”

Mako swallowed. It went down his throat like a rock. “Do you mean by dissecting me or Max?”

Lenny shrugged. “Both.”

I liked this bit because it sums up Mako and Lenny's relationship. Lenny is a psychopath (though be it very human. Mako is the vampire here.) and he has no emotional attachment to Mako only a strong curiosity. He calls Mako "pet" and everyone thinks that a term of endearment but in truth, that Mako's title. He doesn't even care for Mako enough to call him regularly by his name.
kallanda_lee: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] kallanda_lee 2014-07-18 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
I think I hate bragging. Picking these out made me feel very self-conscious and incompetent.

1.

He could keep going if he could just keep up the rhythm of putting one foot in front of another.
He could keep going if he could will himself to reject despair.
He could keep going if the pain was only physical and his mind was empty.
He could going if he was a weapon and not a man.
He could keep going, he told himself, even as his legs failed him and he collapsed to his knees.

(I wanted something with repetition and it sort of worked).

2.

Ache.

How she ached.

The adrenalin had long gone. There was a numb pounding in her head. Her fingers barely cooperated as she was trying to take off her wet clothes. Coldness embraced her once she was naked, and all she wanted to do was to curl up in something warm.

She stepped into the shower, turning the tap on.

Water.

Water is life.

Her skin was sensitive and numb at the same time. The little drops both hurt and felt unreal. They were warm, though, and that was something at least. Not quite like a blanket – not at all like V's embrace – but it would have to do to keep her heated.

She appreciated the symbolism of water but knew it could not wash away her pain. Her ears still rang from the gunshot. Her own chest wound hurt and she found herself tracing there with her fingers, reassuring herself of the fact that the bullet had really been taken out. She found nothing there but an angry scar and breathed a sigh of relief. It still hurt, though. Her whole ribcage felt wrong.

She felt wrong.

Her body started shaking, as the last of adrenalin poured out and was replaced by fatigue and anxiety.

She wondered how V did it. How he had done it for so many years. Dealing with death, that is. Delivering it. Witnessing it. And never flinching.

She wished she had his ability to heal – both body and mind. Perhaps that's why he was so eccentric – the scars ran through his soul, too. They were not only delivered by his captors at Larkhill but by himself, too, every time he had taken a life or seen one taken.

And now she had already started to go down that path. She had not killed today, but she had before – and she would again if needed. Already the scars on her soul were taking shape and her skin too now bore scars – one close to her hip, the other close to her heart. She wondered how many more would come over the years. So many, perhaps, she would one day be covered in them, like V. Perhaps then the cycle would be complete.

She felt very sad suddenly. Very sad and lonely.

She allowed herself tears, knowing that the water – her faithful ally – would wash them all away.

(Yeah, this one's a bit longer.It feels a bit dated for me now, but this is sort of how I like writing characters - in sort of private, intimate moments (not sexual per se) where they're very aware of their own flaws.)

3.

"How fitting, he thought, even the sun knows how to divide us."

(Just a one-off line I like)

4.

It was like a memory of a memory, a faint echo. He remembered the way the light fell into the room. The calloused female hands that put a plate with food in front of him. His own hands - both still real - holding mismatched cutlery. Steve, much smaller but with the same big blue eyes, sitting in front of him and smiling. One of the female hands stroking his hair. Him looking up and seeing the same blue eyes Steve had in an older, kind face.


(From something I haven't put online yet, but I sort of liked this piece).

But yeah, mostly self-conscious. It's even worse for the pieces with actual romance.

othellia: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] othellia 2014-07-18 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, how cocky he used to be. He used to be so proud of himself. He was a man who could topple down gods and raise up empires. He was the man who had taken down Harriet Jones with only six words.

And now he was about to destroy himself with only five.


From a Doctor Who fic of mine in which 11, Amy, & Rory briefly crossover with 10 & Rose due to timey wimey necessary TARDIS repair. 11 ends up contributing to the events of Doomsday and knows that going in.

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-19 10:54 (UTC) - Expand
(reply from suspended user)
cakemage: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] cakemage 2014-07-18 02:17 am (UTC)(link)
Here are a couple I was rather pleased with. With which I was rather pleased. Whatever.

This first one is from Turnabout New Year, a smutty Shark fic I wrote a few years ago:

"They watched silently for a moment as the large, vomit-soaked man ignored Raina and moved to attack Danny and Isaac before being tackled by Madeleine. The two senior members of the HPCU shared a glance that said what neither wanted to put into words: namely, that this was not their fucking problem and there was no way in hell they were getting involved."

This one is from a Voyager fic called Trio of Trouble, which I wrote for a friend to celebrate her dachshund's Sweet Sixteen. Basically, Q is bored and decides to send Janeway and Seven three dachshunds to liven things up. They materialize on the table right in the middle of dinner, because of course they did. This necessitates a cleanup, which results in this:

"The dogs yelped in shock and displeasure as Janeway turned on the sonic shower, but she ignored them, knowing that they weren’t being harmed, however much they tried to convince her that they were. When the last of the food had been cleaned from their bodies, she turned off the shower and let them loose. All three dogs immediately bolted in different directions, then urinated as a display of protest.

Janeway sighed. "So it’s two boys and a girl, then," she said wearily. "Help me clean this up, will you?"

Beside her, Seven was staring at the puddles in barely-visible apprehension. She shook her head. "I cannot."

"What? Why not?" Janeway looked at her quizzically.

"Dachshund urine is capable of destroying borg technology," she replied seriously."

Here's one from an original short story I wrote for a class. It's called Pixie Games and is about a horrible little pixie named Grabaire (which is, by the way, Gaelic for brat), who is miffed because the internet is out on Faerie Hill and she's out of energy drinks. So what's a bored pixie to do to entertain herself? Why, find a random mortal to torture with increasingly nasty pranks! This bit takes place when she's just woken up in her soon-to-be victim's apartment:

"The woman was asleep in a big, cushy recliner in front of the television, which was currently tuned to some singing competition. The sound of the humans’ feeble attempts at music made Grabaire gag, but it also gave her an idea."

I'm working on an as-of-yet untitled novel about the adventures of a redneck exorcist named Billy Roy Jenkins and his crew, which so far consists of his witch girlfriend Eula, his technomancer brother Jethro and brother-in-law Al, his imp partner Glagthorn and their cat, Bubba. This bit is from the first chapter, wherein Billy Roy and Glagthorn are called upon to take care of a vampire stalking a teenage girl:

"Though he was slightly disappointed at having his favorite rant cut short, Glagthorn calmed down, much to the disappointment of Bubba, who’d been watching the demon’s lashing tail with growing interest. Glagthorn saw the cat ease out of pounce-mode out of the corner of his eye and clutched his tail closely against his chest while shooting Bubba a suspicious glare. Though they had reached a sort of truce after some initial difficulties, imp and cat still hit the occasional rough patches in their relationship, such as when Bubba’s hunting instincts kicked in, or when Glagthorn was bored."

Finally, many years ago I played Rita Skeeter in a multi-fandom Hogwarts RP, wherein she would "interview" characters and write articles about them. This time, her victim was Mario and the topic was his tragic mushroom addiction:

"Though his family has abandoned him, there is still one person in his life with the power to help him recover—if she cared.

“Princess Peach told-a me she didn’t give a Goomba’s rear-end-a whether I’m-a on Shines, Mushrooms or-a Power Pills, as-a long as I can still-a save her from Bowser.”

Though his family has abandoned him and his girlfriend ignores him until she needs him, Mario is remaining strong. He claims that his mushroom addiction hasn’t affected his work, but only time will tell if this remains true."



Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-18 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
Ohh, I had to go digging.

From an old FFX-2 Fic:

Gippal rolled his eye upwards. “It doesn’t work that way. You can tell them once, and tell them one hundred times to call you ‘just Gippal’ and it doesn’t stick. They get a kick out of making me uncomfortable. It’s their little revenge.”

Nooj pressed his fingertips together. “Or they respect you and want to show their respect.”

“You’re full of positive spins.”

(This is actually the first one to come to mind and I think I used the "you're full of positive spins" someplace else because it is just that amusing. Mostly, it was the ironic dichotomy of Gippal, the optimist, saying this to Nooj, the pessimist.)

From a Narnia fic I'm working on:

Inside the plane, Lucy walked past Charlie and took the co-pilot’s seat in the cockpit. She stowed her cap under the seat and turned to Charlie. “So, what takes you to India?”

“I want to open a zoo.” He replied, putting his cowboy hat on his knee.

Lucy gave a long level look at Edmund. His passenger was a liar.

Edmund stopped flipping switches and looked back at her. “What? That’s the nicest answer I’ve heard yet.”

Lucy sighed. “Where do you find these people?”

(Just the whole character interaction thing, establishing character... and the fact this comes back to haunt Edmund later. Why yes, Edmund is a pilot and Lucy is... *eyes Lucy* still being Lucy.)

From an X-Men WIP:

“I’m afraid I can’t find Rogue.” Charles said gently.

Kitty burst into tears and sank to her knees. Piotr knelt down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. The others looked at Charles in shock.

Logan looked at them all and then walked past them. “I need air.” He said gruffly.

He couldn’t let anyone see him cry.

An hour later, Ororo came out to try and talk to him. He picked a fight with her until she lost such control of her emotions that she summoned a thunderstorm. And only when the rain poured down out of the blackened sky in buckets and lightning hit the ground all around him, did Logan fall to his knees, put his head in his hands and weep for the daughter he never realized he’d had.

Clothes plastered to her body by the driving rain, Ororo knelt down next to him, wrapped her arms around him and wept with him.

(emotional impact... ack, this makes me want to cry every time and I wrote the thing!)

From original sci fi/fantasy story in relation to a war the main characters are having over sunscreen:

“Not even you are immune to melanoma!”

and a short while later

Curly came over and leaned over to Rodeo. He lowered his voice so the others couldn’t hear him. “Doesn’t the Prospect know that if he puts the sunscreen on himself, he can choose the protection rating?”

Rodeo snickered. “Shhh, I’m waiting for her to chase him down and tackle him.”

I still snicker inwardly at this

(Anonymous) 2014-07-18 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
From a Guild Wars 2 crackfic:

"Why is there an Elder Dragon in my laboratory?"

I know it's conceited of me, but I love how the character says this line, at least in my head. She's annoyed by the unexplained presence of something that's more akin to an eldritch abomination than a typical fantasy dragon. Because it's interrupting her work. It's not exactly in-character, but it sure is in-caricature.
segnung: A dyad in the force. ([film: IB; OTP] Into the edges round you)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] segnung 2014-07-18 03:47 am (UTC)(link)
Shosanna now paused. She was so exhausted from it all. But she understood; she understood how and why Fredrick felt as he did. What were old wounds and dead tissue for her were fresh and alive for him. The strain in her voice, in her body, was evident.

"We are alive. We have each other. Is that not enough?"

For a moment, he was stunned. It was.

"I'm sorry, Shosanna."

It was all he could bring himself to say. Fredrick wanted to apologize and be forgiven for everything. He took in a deep breath that was broken in two by a sob. He turned away from her, his hand slipping from her shoulder and falling into his lap.

The thought of her coming under harm tore his heart in half. The thought of life without her was unfathomable and enough to drive him to tears. She was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.

"I can't imagine my life without you, Shosanna," his voice now cracking and peeling around the edges, "it's not that I want my life back the way it was, not entirely. It's not that I want to completely forget, either. It's just that - "

Shosanna interrupted him, speaking definitively, knowingly.

"It's always there."

Fredrick did not respond; instead, he allowed for his silence so she could go on. He wanted to hear it from her. There was a thoughtfulness to her words, a measure of care, even as her voice wavered.

"It haunts you. You can't articulate it. You just know that it's there; that it hurts. Sometimes it's dormant, but it's there, right below the surface. Other times, it's so sharp, so clear."

Fredrick brought himself to face her, his eyes burning into hers. He was persistent, though his voice was meek.

"What do we do now, Shosanna?"

She gave him a soft smile.

"We live our lives, Fredrick."
iwasanartist: (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] iwasanartist 2014-07-18 06:09 am (UTC)(link)
Gah, I'm so late to the party. And apparently only good at finding entire passages.

From "Man Up," a Castle fic featuring Kevin Ryan, his [my headcanon for this particular story] genderqueer wife, and their first time pegging (I really like the quiet way Jenny starts to doubt herself after cutting her hair -- the one thing she's done that she can't undo

Kevin was silent as she trailed off. Soon her cheeks began to flush and he could see a flash of red creep up her neck at the collar.

"It's stupid," she said as she undid the jacket. "I don't know what I was thinking." She shrugged out of the jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair. "God, my hair," she whispered, but Kevin had stopped listening. He could only stare at the gray vest that snugly wrapped itself around her body, the yellow tie that disappeared beneath it and the crisp white sleeves that stretched from shoulders to cuffs.

From the same story, after the first broaching of the subject did not go well, they've started talking (I love that this isn't an easy thing to just jump into, and they open a real dialogue about their wants and fears, and that ultimately they're both willing to do/not do something for the other)
"Do you..." He paused, struggling to find words for a question he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. "Do you want it to be real?" he finally said. The question hung in the air, the possibilities of its answer almost painful between them.

"I don't know," she answered. "A year ago I'd have said..." she trailed off as her voice began to shake. She swallowed once and when she spoke again her voice was steady. "Not always," she finally said. "But sometimes I wonder."

He took another drink and the uncomfortable silence threatened to encroach again.

"Baby, it's okay," she said before it could. "We don't..." She took a deep breath. "Maybe we can...we can just wipe tonight from the books, no harm, no foul. I mean, this isn't what you signed up for, I know."

"But it's important to you?"

"You're important to me." Untangling their fingers, she took his hand in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. "It's okay."

A quietness filled the air. Not the uncomfortable silence that had hung previously, just a gentle, peaceful quiet. Neither had turned a light on, and the falling sun left a slight glow that was beginning to fade into a gray darkness. He watched her as she set her drink down and tugged at her tie. The knot traveled a few inches south and she undid a few buttons, loosening the collar of the white dress shirt. Arching her body and with one foot on the coffee table, she leaned back, resting her head on the back edge of their couch as the sun disappeared.

"You better get to work," he said finally.

"I'm sorry?"

"Hey, I am not an easy lay," he said with a smile. "I require wining and dining -- maybe a little more wining..."

She smiled as he spoke and scooted toward him.

"Wining and dining," she whispered in his ear before drawing lazy circles with her tongue. One hand combed through his hair as the other came to rest on the fabric of his T-shirt, just over his heart.

"Mm hmm," he answered. "And flowers would not be remiss."

"Flowers," she repeated as she kissed the corner of his mouth and then his cheek. "I thought maybe I'd just do this," she said, pressing her lips firmly to that spot at the edge of his jaw, just beneath his ear.

"Or that," Kevin groaned and pulled her onto his lap, her knees surrounding his hips. "That works, too." She leaned forward, pressing herself against him as her lips traveled up his neck and across his throat before finding purchase at his mouth.

From "Caught Up in the Pleasure or the Pain," another Castle fic where everything is wrong but then very right between Ryan and Esposito (I included the first paragraph for context, but there's something about Ryan wiping his mouth and not knowing what to do with hands after kissing Esposito that I've always loved)
Ryan came to his senses and broke the kiss, removing his hands from Esposito's face and backing quickly away. Esposito knew he was staring, wide-eyed and agape, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't do anything but watch as red flushed its way up Ryan's neck, around his ears and into his cheeks

"I'm sorry," Ryan said. "I'm sorry." He wiped his mouth, shoved his hands in his pockets, pulled them back out and crossed his arms across his chest, looking everywhere but at Esposito as blind panic and a desperate need for flight began to set in. "I'm sorry, Javi."

Same story (I made the switch to first names once they actually started being intimate instead of just having sex, and I like this passage where Javier tries to make up for being super selfish in the bedroom without exceeding his own comfort zone)
Kevin writhed against him. The curve of his back hugged Javier's cock, and he could feel it begin to harden again. Moving his mouth from Kevin's neck, he focused on the wall in front of them. He wanted this, for once, to be about Kevin. He thought of other things as he tried to ignore the ache in his groin.

Baseball. Football. Sandwiches. Gunshots. A streak of red on a bathroom wall.

Javier squeezed his eyes tightly shut against imagery that had invaded his brain. He focused instead on Kevin. The sound of his breath. The salt of his flesh. The feel of slick skin in his hand. Sweat beaded at Kevin's brow as he began to tense. Javier swore he could hear Kevin's heart racing. Feel the blood coursing through his veins.

And one that isn't sex (I love this memory of Javier's. Both because I think I do a good job showing the difference between Child!Javi's status and the other kids' status via valentines, but I also have a super soft spot for the line about literally having his heart thrown away.
It had been a long time since anyone had called Javier special. Strong, tough and brave, sure. A good soldier. A good cop. But special? His grandmother had called him special once. He was 8 and suffering his first heartbreak at the hands of a pig-tailed little girl who had laughed at his valentine. The other boys had fancy cards with perforated edges and witty messages next to cartoon characters, sports stars and superheroes.

Javier -- Jimmy, as everyone called him then -- could still remember his: a lopsided heart cut from construction paper with a simple "BE MY VALENTINE" in silver glitter, the last word curving upward as he ran out of space, others smearing as he folded it before the glue was all the way dry. And it was green. When the teacher stepped out of the room, the whole class laughed. They called him poor and dirty, and the girl of his dreams discarded his heart with barely a second glance.

He went home that day in tears. His grandmother called him to her lap and gently coaxed the story out of him. Afterward, she held him tight and kissed his head.

"Listen to me, mijo," she said. "Forget about them. You are a very special boy and some day you'll meet a very special girl who will love you no matter what."

Javier's eyes stung with tears. He tried to fight them off, but several burned their way down his face anyway. Kevin did him the courtesy of not looking, instead gently patting Javier's leg, letting his fingers linger for a moment before rising and walking silently down the hall.

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-18 08:03 am (UTC)(link)
Poking through my current WIPs, I swear I'm actually get worse at writing not better. Meh.

I've always been fond of this little bit:

"The church organ struck up and the assembled tottered to their feet as the door creaked open. My fate started advancing towards me up the aisle, like a Shark moving in on a halibut with a gimpy fin."

If only because it's as close as I've come to capturing the style of PG Wodehouse's wrting. Well, waving distance anyhow heh.
ext_18500: My non-fandom OC Oraania. She's crazy. (Default)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[identity profile] mimi-sardinia.livejournal.com 2014-07-18 12:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"They think I taste better than you do. Maybe it's because I'm part Tree."

(My silmaril talking to Kíli in a discussion about ponies eating hair.)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-18 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Much belated, but why not? From an original story set in a dystopia:

"I am just one man, and so was he. And tomorrow, I will be just one corpse, buried in a ditch alongside him."

I like it for the full circle effect. The character is talking about the one man he personally had killed during the old regime (though he had any number sent off to prison/reeducation/torture), while he himself is awaiting execution by the new one.

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

(Anonymous) 2014-07-18 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"His words hit her like a sledgehammer, smashing her heart into a thousand pieces."

Said from the perspective of a sister whose brother (falsely) thinks she has tried to have him killed. In reality, she loves him so much she hardly knows what to do with it, but they are a cynical royal family who do not express emotions.
raspberryrain: (raised eyebrow)

Re: Favorite lines from your own writing?

[personal profile] raspberryrain 2014-07-19 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
I'm gonna link instead of quoting, because comics, and the words aren't the strongest part. (Uncanny Valley warning: I work in 3D. Feel free to tell me how it makes your eyes bleeed....)

"Ellery needs air" was a fair bit of work, and I'm actually proud of it. It really seemed to give me a consistent view of her from childhood.

Of my glurgier ones, I feel like I did a better job with "We flock together", but I like the rhythm of "Triumph."

That said, my best strip for pure dialogue may just be "Sunstroke day" ;p