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twodongs2017-05-14 03:10 pm
necessarian) wrote in twodongs2017-05-14 03:10 pm
Entry tags:
round two (18 may - 24 may)
TOP LEVEL COMMENTS ONLY
| DAY | PROMPT | PUNISHMENT |
|---|---|---|
| Thursday (May 18) | start/finish something | not allowed to dm (one/both) |
| Friday (May 19) | past tense | namedrop someone we hate in public |
| Saturday (May 20) | work on a published wip | not allowed to dm (one/both) |
| Sunday (May 21) | drabble day | write badfic (with epithets) |
| Monday (May 22) | work on an event/exchange fic | not allowed to dm (one/both) |
| Tuesday (May 23) | write a minimum of 4000 words | write 300 words of daisuga |
| Wednesday (May 24) | describe/feature water | not allowed to dm (one/both) |
* feel free to edit/add new comments if more is written on the day; comments are meant to encapsulate everything that is written, not just the part that fulfills the prompt
** clarification - "not allowed to dm" is a punishment for the day after, not a preexisting condition
THURSDAY, MAY 18
FRIDAY, MAY 19
SATURDAY, MAY 20
SUNDAY, MAY 21
MONDAY, MAY 22
TUESDAY, MAY 23
WEDNESDAY, MAY 24
Re: THURSDAY, MAY 18
also I started something just to get it out of my system (150w)
Earth's origins, the beginning of mankind, have been told countless times. They have been fablized, discovered, refuted, and questioned in a way where we have agreed to disagree, science or religion, faith without logic and logic without faith.
But in the beginning, we can agree to this:
There was darkness. That is the first fact.
The second fact is this: Then, there was light.
*
There's something about the way time passes.
Mark doesn't know when civilization begins. He's never had to question a matter of movement, of evolution. One moment, the earth is shock-cold; the next, creatures are roaming. More time passes and different creatures are roaming. The earth goes more cycles around the sun and then there are people with him, people like him.
i done did it
On the day of lovely Jane’s eleventh birthday, Mrs. Bennet was defending herself in one such altercation by the organic greens. She had the misfortune of bumping into Mrs. Cartwright, who was quick to gossip about how little Lydia had been so cruel to Annabelle Cartwright at preschool, and Mrs. Bennet was forced to defend her youngest daughter—who was indeed a terror, but Mrs. Cartwright did not need to know that—by extolling the banality of all the Bennet daughters, which was not necessarily the case, but it was sufficient to stop Mrs. Cartwright from reporting Lydia’s behaviour to the parents’ association for another week, and frankly, that was more than Mrs. Bennet could’ve hoped for.
Mrs. Bennet returned home with everything she needed for Jane’s birthday cake, thoroughly winded by the whole affair, and proceeded to take a constitutional on the lounge. The girls were at school and preschool, and dear Mr. Bennet had kindly volunteered to pick them up so that Mrs. Bennet could work on the cake, so Mrs. Bennet blessedly had the entire house to herself.
It was going perfectly, and she was most tranquil, until suddenly the screech of an owl cut through her peace. The sound was close enough that it might be within the house itself, but surely that was impossible? How would an owl find its way inside their house? So Mrs. Bennet did what she always did best when it came to things she couldn’t explain: she ignored it entirely. This worked very well for all of a second, and then the owl screeched again, and again, and now there was nothing else to explain it. The owl must, somehow, have made its way inside the house.
Mrs. Bennet was on the verge of calling pest control when she saw the creature itself swoop overhead. It dropped a letter in an envelope right by the lounge.
Ms J. Bennet
2 Longbourn Lane
St Albans
Hertfordshire
“Good heavens,” Mrs. Bennet said to herself. “To think someone would send Jane a birthday card via owl! What a fine prank. How did that blasted creature even get in…”
She trailed off, opening the envelope and reading the contents of the letter inside. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? What sort of joke was this? Which one of Jane’s friends could’ve done this? Mrs. Bennet was so outraged that she forgot to start putting together the cake, instead passing out on the couch, as she always did when her nerves overwhelmed her.
When Mr. Bennet returned home with the girls, Mrs. Bennet woke to see him standing over her, ringed by five curious faces.
“I was afraid something like this would happen,” he said.
“That some prankster would send Jane something like this on her birthday?” Mrs. Bennet demanded, sitting bolt upright. “Pray, do tell me who Jane has been spending her time with, Reginald.”
Jane and Elizabeth shared a look behind their father’s back, which Mrs. Bennet pretended not to notice.
“There’s nothing to worry about, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said. “This is only Jane’s Hogwarts letter.”
“It came!” Jane exclaimed. “It really came!”
Mr. Bennet turned around and beamed at her. “That’s right. I told you it would come, didn’t I?”
Enough was enough, Mrs. Bennet decided. “Will somebody please tell me what is going on!” she said. “My daughter is being written to by some cult that you seem to have something to do with?”
“Dad,” Elizabeth said, “you haven’t told mum about Hogwarts?”
Mr. Bennet had the good grace to look sheepish. Married twelve years, and he had kept this from her all that time! He ought to be ashamed of himself. Truly contrite. Mrs. Bennet decided she would accept no less in recompense than outright grovelling.
“Well,” he said, “quite simply, I am a wizard, and it would seem that at least one of our daughters is a witch.”
“I’m a witch too!” Kitty piped up. “I can make my crayons fly!”
Very solemnly, Mary said, “Me too. I can turn pages in books without even touching them.”
“I cursed Annabelle Cartwright!” Lydia said.
Mrs. Bennet passed out again.
Re: i done did it
lemonloaf (1/?)
There was a man with one eyebrow behind the barista counter.
It was a terribly busy day. Customers were milling in and out, and Lemony was sitting at a table four rows and one column over from the entrance. He was unfortunate enough to be facing the barista counter, and therefore the man with one eyebrow, who was currently making a mocha frappuccino for the current customer, a man in a bowler hat and a tweed suit. Admittedly the bowler hat (and tweed suit) were much more of an eyesore than the man and his one eyebrow.
Lemony was sipping his hot chocolate when Beatrice slid into the chair across from him.
"Any good?" she asked. It was their first time trying one of the campus coffee shops. The man with one eyebrow, whom Lemony was sure might be in his Ethics & Civil Rights class, had made his hot chocolate.
He shrugged, placing his mug down. "Adequate. Would you like to get something?"
"Hm." Beatrice scanned the chalkboard that had all the drinks written in a scrawly, yet sort of charming handwriting. "A mocha perhaps," she said, standing up. "I'll be back."
Lemony watched as she went over to the cash register, manned by another man who for some reason was in a sailor cap and declaring very loudly everything he said. The man with the eyebrow at the sailor's general existence, and Lemony could not help but be inclined to agree, even though the man with the eyebrow did not look terribly intelligent. Lemony largely did not approve of that.
Beatrice came back as the man with the eyebrow began to make her drink. Lemony tore his eyes away and back to her as she sat back down.
"So," Beatrice said. "I've been assigned to Esme in Finance & Economics."
Lemony raised an eyebrow. "Squalor, Esme?" he asked, for clarification. "Sure you can ask the professor - "
"No, I won't," said Beatrice. "Even if I can. It would be stooping to her level."
"That would only be true if she would do so too."
Beatrice kicked Lemony under the table. "I'm not going to throw a fit because I've been assigned to Esme Squalor for a Finance & Economics project," she said, and then sighed. "Even if she refuses to read anything assigned for the class, and boasts about not even looking over the SparkNotes for Anna Karenina - "
Lemony shuddered. "The thought - "
"Are there book snobs in the shop?" said a sleazy voice suddenly. "Sorry nerds, I thought this was a coffee shop, not a bookshop."
Both Lemony and Beatrice looked up; the man with the one eyebrow who really could not be any older than either of them had walked over to clean a table that had just been vacated. Lemony had pretended not to watch from the corner of his eye as eyebrow man had made his way over halfway through their conversation.
"They can be both, you know," Beatrice pointed out.
Eyebrow man snorted. "How? One's a book shop, one's a coffee shop. There's no such thing as a coffeebookshop or a bookcoffeeshop."
"There are bookshops with coffee shops in them," said Lemony.
"Then that's a coffee shop inside a book shop. The Anna Karenina isn't worth reading, anyway," Eyebrow Man said.
Beatrice huffed like she was personally affronted. She was; Lemony knew that it was one of her favorite books. "Excuse me," Beatrice said. "But Anna Karenina is one of my favorite books."
"That makes sense," Eyebrow Man said.
The nametag on his shirt said Olaf. Fitting. "Who are you to pass judgment on us anyway?" Lemony said. "You should be doing your minimum wage retail job - "
"I am," Olaf said, smirking. He finished wiping down the table - which he had done pretty thoroughly, surprisingly - and straightened up. "At least one of us is getting paid for this conversation," he said, before stalking off.
Lemony watched him go. Beatrice rolled her eyes and said, "Another idiot. I should introduce him to Esme."
"They'd make a monster together," Lemony said immediately. "Don't come to me for help if you do."
Beatrice chuckled. "Good point," she said, and Lemony tried not to feel too much pride in warding her off from the idea.
*
(1/13)
And then it was winter, which had come so fast and slow all at once. Perhaps it had been because Asahi was not thinking about the two empty spaces in his life - or was trying not to think about how they were empty in the first place - that it came as a rush when, during a Saturday in September, as Asahi was drinking out of his water bottle, Nishinoya sighed and said, "I can't believe Daichi-san and Suga-san are coming back next week."
Asahi swallowed so hard that he wished he'd spat it out instead. "Wait," Asahi said, thumping his chest as Shimada patted his back. "What day is it today?"
Shimada laughed as Nishinoya gave him a funny look. "Our holiday starts in several days, too," Nishinoya said. "Which I'm really looking forward to - all this entrance exam stress, you're lucky you didn't have to go through with it - maybe I won't go to university either - "
"Hey!" Tanaka shouted, and pelted a volleyball at Nishinoya. Nishinoya squawked. "Not after all that getting me to go to the same school as you!"
"Ryuu, but what if we dropped out - !"
"Looking forward to your friends coming back?" Shimada asked Asahi, as Tanaka and Nishinoya began yelling at each other, to no one's surprise. "Must be hard not being around people exactly your age."
"It's not - " Asahi began. He was thinking about Suga and the blanket wrapped around his waist; Daichi and a taste so hot and joyous and regretful like it never happened. But he was also thinking about almost a year ago, sleeping bags splayed next to each other, bundled and bunched together in the snow, years and years of volleyball and a strength thrumming between them that had always felt like trust and something more.
Asahi shrugged and met Shimada-san's gaze. "It is," he said, earnestly, because he did miss Daichi and Suga.
*
and I miss this damn fic even though it's been two years since I worked on it LOL
who am i anymore
lemonloaf revisited
Lemony is not sexually frustrated. As much as Beatrice loves to insist. He is not.
The man with the one eyebrow behind the barista counter does not catch Lemony's eye. No - the man with the one eyebrow behind the barista counter offends Lemony's eye. Lemony does not need to see an unsexy barista making his hot chocolate while he waits at the counter.
The unsexy man with the one eyebrow grins with all teeth when he hands Lemony his drink. "Lemony," he says.
Lemony wishes the man didn't know his name. "Thanks," he says, taking his drink and leaving.
Lemony is not sexually frustrated. If the man with the one eyebrow flits through his thoughts that evening when the lights are out and his hand is stuffed beneath his blankets, that's not his fault.
Lemony comes to the cafe again. It is in chaos; the barista with the one eyebrow had gotten at least three patron's drinks wrong. A woman is yelling. The barista seems unbothered.
"You're quite bad at your job," Lemony comments when he retrieves his own drink - perfectly mad.
The man with one eyebrow smiles at him again. "Thank you for the compliment," he says.
The man with one eyebrow does not have a good smile. Objectively.
"Yes," Beatrice says, when she comes to the cafe with Lemony once, "but that doesn't mean you're not sexually frustrated."
"Why do I share anything with you," Lemony says, as they reach the front of the queue.
There are sticky spots on the surface of the cafe. Beatrice eyes them and says, "I don't think I'm coming here again."
"I assure you we provide excellent service," Eyebrow Man says, suddenly coming over.
Lemony raises his own eyebrow. "Are we pretending last week's fiasco didn't happen?"
Eyebrow Man grins.
His name is Olaf. Lemony is not surprised. It's not a sexy name.
He is working on his tablet. No - he is pretending to work on his tablet. No - he is working on his tablet, in the corner of the shop, the one closest to the barista counter. If he sneaks a peek out of the corner of his eye every once in awhile, that's no one's business.
Olaf is laughing loudly with one of his coworkers. She's a woman named Esme. She's the reason Lemony knows that Eyebrow Man's name is Olaf.
Olaf. Not a sexy name.
"Is that Anna Karenina?" Olaf asks one day, as he wipes down the table in front of Lemony. Lemony is working very hard on reading and annotating his copy of the Anna Karenina.
"Yes," Lemony says. "This is the Anna Karenina."
Olaf snorts. "Stupid book. Waste of time." He wipes the already dirty rag on his even dirtier forehead.
Lemony's eyebrows furrow. "Have you read it?"
"I read half of it, then I threw it out my window!" Olaf throws his head back and laughs. It sounds like a cackle.
He goes back behind the counter. Lemony returns to annotating.
It's terrible, really, that his thoughts that night (with his palm beneath his trousers) are about Olaf laughing at his apparent history of throwing the Anna Karenina out the window. Really, Lemony thinks, as he wipes down his hand, he needs to stop having random thoughts during these times.
He gets to the cafe early the next day. It's not to see when Olaf's shift starts. Olaf is smoking outside.
Lemony frowns and pauses with his messenger bag. "That's a nasty habit," he says.
Olaf snorts. "What do I care what you think?"
Lemony rolls his eyes and heads inside.
Lemony goes over to his usual table, setting down his tablet. Olaf comes in after him; his friend Esme is already behind the counter and crows loudly in greeting.
He laughs and kisses her square on the mouth.
Lemony is tapping very hard on his tablet. He hears the loud squelch of pulling back, of Esme laughing and asking, "Why did you do that?" of Olaf shrugging and saying, "Because I felt like it." He smirks at Lemony on his way back behind the counter.
Lemony annotates and annotates and annotates. He leaves after a half an hour of working.
"I doubt Esme is dating him," Beatrice says, when Lemony brings it up casually.
"They kissed," Lemony points out. "People don't usually kiss unless they're dating."
"That isn't a universal truth," says Beatrice. "We kissed once, remember?"
"When I was still in love with you," Lemony points out. They had been teenagers; they're adults now. It's different. "It's different," he says.
"They might just be good friends," Beatrice says. She shrugs. "Esme is in one of my classes. She behaves in a way that makes me believe she's single."
"You - " Lemony realizes. "You're pursuing her?"
Beatrice shrugs again.
"Why do you smoke?" Lemony asks. They are waiting for the cafe to open. Lemony doesn't know why Olaf is the first, the only employee already here before a coworker comes to open up.
Olaf sticks the cigarette in his mouth. "It makes me look cool, don't you think?" he says, dark eyes twinkling.
Lemony says, "That's the reason?"
"Why not do something that makes you look cool?" Olaf says. "And it's fire. I'm breathing fire."
"That's not what smoking is," Lemony says. "It gives you lung cancer. And it's unattractive."
Olaf raises his eyebrows. "You think so?" he says.
Lemony is in the cafe again. Every so often Olaf passes by to call him a nerd. He threatens to burn his copy of Anna Karenina, and Lemony tells him to read Fahrenheit 451.
"Mor reading?" Olaf snorts. "No thanks."
Today the cafe is jam-packed with other university students. It's not out of the ordinary for Lemony to be here; even less so when Kit finds him and sits with him and talks rapidly about her literature class. Lemony nods along, engrossed.
Olaf accidentally drops a salt shaker in her tea as he passes by. "Oops."
Lemony glares.
Olaf grins.
"Why do you read," Olaf fires back at him.
Lemony can talk about this for days. He says, instead, "Because you are a good person if you have knowledge, and books provide an endless fountain of knowledge."
Olaf snorts. "Good person? Who cares? What about power?"
"Knowledge can be powerful," Lemony says.
"Yeah," Olaf says, and pulls out his lighter. "So can fire. Can your precious books fight against fire?"
"Reading about fire can," Lemony says pointedly.
Olaf snorts and waves the lighter in Lemony's face. Lemony doesn't flinch. Olaf puts it away and goes back to smoking, burning grey.
Lemony's mind betrays him. It's been betraying him for a while -
He's been betraying himself for a while.
It doesn't matter that he gets all hot at the thought of Olaf, close close close to him, eyes as dark as the end of his cigarette. That the sharp jaw of Olaf's chin, what he might feel brushed against him, so close that Lemony is engulfed in his fire and forgets everything he's ever read, everything he's ever known. White white hot and Lemony becomes a part of it, swept away in every inch.
He wipes himself down and grimaces.
"We should go on a double date someday," Beatrice says. They're at lunch in the dining hall. Bertrand is sick and Josephine is visiting Ike.
Beatrice would only mention Olaf or Esme around Lemony, anyway.
"Who," he says, anyway, playing dumb.
Beatrice rolls her eyes. "Me, Esme, you, Olaf."
"No," Lemony says immediately. And, "Have you succeeded in pursuing Esme?"
"I'm still conquesting," Beatrice says, which is so barbarian that Lemony cracks a smile. "What about you and Olaf?"
"We weren't even discussing that." Lemony then frowns.
Beatrice smiles at him. "We can," she says, but Lemony returns to eating.
Lemony is making his way to the cafe when he hears the sirens.
He can't hear anything, because he is going in the same direction; and when he sees the building, up in flames, his chest seizes in panic. It's the bright grey morning, but the only person who would be near the cafe this morning is Olaf, and Lemony's fingers are going numb, and there's a crowd, bright bright flames hot on his face, and -
"Are you gonna fucking say something now?" says a voice.
Lemony turns, and jams his mouth against Olaf's. "You," Lemony says, "stupid, stupid - "
Before he can get inside, there's a hand on his arm. Tight. Bony.
Mouth on his own.
Olaf taste like smoke. It's the first time. He kisses like a viper. Open, all teeth, and Lemony doesn't know what's supposed to be intimate about kissing. Stubble brushing against Lemony's thick chin.
Lemony's mouth is pungent when he pulls back.
"What was that," he hears himself say.
Olaf's gaze flickers. "What was - " he begins.
Lemony clears his throat. "I'm not - " he says. "I'm not interested in you like - " He stumbles and turns.
Goes inside.
When Olaf kisses him again, why do you read at the back of his tongue, already spoken, sliding against Lemony's, Lemony forgets about all that. He forgets about why he reads; now he only knows why Olaf smokes.
Olaf's fingers are spindly. On Lemony's hips. Lemony groans.
It is dawn. They are in public.
Olaf's hands are making their way to Lemony's back pockets when Lemony says, "You're not a good person." Olaf laughs.
"Really," he says. "Is that news to you?" He blows smoke into Lemony's mouth.
Lemony coughs. Pulls back. He's hard. "I need to - "
Leave.
Olaf grins. "Are you proud of my hard work?"
Lemony pulls away. "Of course you're the one who - you fucking - "
"I know how to set fires," Olaf says. They're far away enough so no one else can hear. "To stay safe."
"To harm others?"
"No one was inside," Olaf says, as if it's a reassurance. It is. "And you didn't even - "
"I did," Lemony says. "It's - Why do you even - "
"Ask yourself that," Olaf smells like smoke. Everything does. "We should leave the scene of the crime."
They do, the world ablaze.
Re: lemonloaf revisited
ALSO HERE, POLISHED UP I GUESS
at this point i'm just forcing it out idc
https://twodongs.dreamwidth.org/1265.html?thread=16113#cmt16113
https://twodongs.dreamwidth.org/1265.html?thread=16369#cmt16369
6,519w total
one sentence is good enough lads
punishment lol
he doesn’t want to break it off, but—he’s scared it isn’t working. so he resolves he’ll tell suga. he will. right after they finish making out some more. okay. maybe he won’t tell suga just yet. suga pulls back, face flushed, and daichi thinks, i’ve got it bad.
suga pulls a face. “ugh.”
“ugh what?” daichi says. his thumb teases at the waistband of suga’s gym shorts. “i know it’s cramped in here—”
“it’s not that,” suga says. “it’s—never mind.”
“come on, babe, you can tell me,” daichi says.
“don’t call me that,” suga says.
in apology, daichi leans in closer, and suga obligingly kisses back. but. it feels like effort. daichi cups his hands around suga’s hips.
“you can tell me.”
“i can’t keep doing this,” suga says. it comes out as a rush of air, all at once, so fast that daichi isn’t convinced he heard correctly.
because it’s what he was going to say, but not like this. not like this. daichi doesn’t know what to do when he’s not in control of the situation. maybe suga doesn’t mean it like daichi does, but just in case, daichi says, “i know. me too. all this sneaking around isn’t good for us. we should tell the team, at least.”
“no,” suga says. “that’s not what i mean. i—daichi, i’ve been seeing someone else. and i don’t have room in my heart for two people at once.”
so that’s what was missing—not the ease; but before this sudden onset of effort, was there ever any genuine sentiment there?
“who?” daichi asks, although when he thinks back, he knows who.