![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8){kind=small}
Author: pk_angel
Rating: PG
Fandom: Lost in Translation
Disclaimer: Property of the one and only Sophia Coppola. I’m poor so
don’t
sue since no profit is being made off of this.
Summary: Charlotte and Bob have just parted way, but goodbye isn’t
always
forever…
Note: chapters 3 (first part of)
It’s been nearly since Bob had written back.
It was nice.
Charlotte decided it was nice to have someone like Bob to confide in. Someone who was far away enough that he didn’t know all the dirty little details. Far enough away so that he couldn’t judge her too harshly.
And, yet…at the same time…he was so like her that the words flowed like water. So easy and seamless, that it was just so natural.
Bob.
Literally an ocean and time difference away. Yet, when she opened her email, she felt closer to him.
Charlotte hesitated to use the word ‘safe,’ but nothing else seemed to fit.
Bob had made her feel safe.
Safe enough to open her thoughts, her feelings, her heart to him. He made feeling vulnerable an okay feeling to have.
Charlotte let out a long sigh as she slumped into her chair. The laptop was opened, and the green light was on…so, why was she hesitating?
She had guessed that it didn’t seem right to start the next email with more complaints about how many ways her life had gone wrong: John was gone. He had left for work and wasn’t going to be back until Friday of next week, mumbling something about Fuji before rushing out the door, tie in his mouth and suitcase in his hand.
She saw him leave, of course, mouthing words of reassurance as he left the door.
“John, I’m going to be fine by myself, really.” And she had almost convinced herself that she was.
Charlotte had thrown herself down on the hotel bed, ready to just curl up and sleep the rest of the week away. The calendar was already marked; Friday, circled in bright red. Scribbled somewhere: John will be back.
And she would wait, anticipating the days.
There was today, and then tomorrow, and then the day after that, and after that…twenty four hours times ‘x’ amount of days…
John always seemed to be missing.
What’s worse, she always seemed to be missing him.
Charlotte didn’t want to admit just how much she disliked being alone. That feeling of having no one to talk to or having nothing to do, like spending days in a sort of limbo. A dreaded suspended existence. God, she hated that feeling.
Bob had offered her one advice. Simple and doable.
‘You should get out more.’
Charlotte had smiled when she read that, wondering if he could see her now, clad yesterday’s pajamas, hair disheveled and unwashed.
Bob was right. The man was always right.
So Charlotte scratched her head and hit the showers before hitting the streets of Tokyo, map in hand, with no clue where to start.
She had ended up in one of those smoky arcades situated in the tall buildings of Akihabara, and had managed to wander down…down into a seedy adult book store, tucked in the basement’s corner.
And despite some initial reservations, she stayed and looked over the stacks.
Charlotte glanced around the room, freely observing how all the people there were guys. They all looked away from her, head down, seemingly ashamed at getting caught doing something dirty.
It had amused her more than anything else.
She shuffled through the aisle and looked over at the poor cashiers, the only other females in the room besides herself, and briefly wondered how it would’ve been like to work here, surrounded by guys getting worked up over these wide-eyed, big-breasted, animated girls.
Free porn…a chuckle from that thought.
The books here didn’t leave much to the imagination, and there was something slightly weird about the thought of getting off on, what was essentially, cartoon porn with comically exaggerated body parts.
Charlotte had grabbed one of the weirder S and M editions and purchased it, just a little something that she and John could laugh about when he got back.
The cashier looked at her, flushed, as if embarrassed for her. Charlotte just smiled as the cashier bagged the item in question and handed it to her.
By the end of the day, Charlotte was exhausted, but surprisingly content.
She dropped on the bed, shrugged off her shoes and wrapped that soft, warm blanket around her body.
Nothing left to do but drift off to sleep.
There was no alarm to wake her. Just a natural click in her brain and the sunlight pouring through the window. Charlotte sighed, and snuggled closer to her husband’s pillow, breathing in whatever smell was left of him.
A few more minutes of just toasting, and then she’ll get up and brush her teeth.
A yawn, then she walked over to the window, glancing absentmindedly down on the streets below.
Then it hit her.
Crowds of people everywhere, going in every imaginable direction. Like little ants…moving so intently and endlessly.
It struck her that she was ridiculous, feeling lonely in a place like this.
Charlotte felt a sudden jolt, an urge to suddenly walk down there and join them.
Bob’s words rung fresh in her ear: ‘You’re not alone.’
Charlotte grabbed her coat, leaving the room’s air condition still humming, and made her way to the nearest train station.
She’ll get on, she decided, and then she’ll get off wherever the train took her, and it’ll be alright to just be lost for a few hours. She’ll find her way back…
…eventually.
I'm still working on this part...and to be continued:
(The hotel door’s lock slowly clicked and Charlotte entered with a few heavy shopping bags in her hands. She dropped them haphazardly on the floor before locking the door behind her and making her way to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
She grabbed the remote sitting ontop of the bed and flipped on the TV, warming up to the room instantly now that there was some noise.
Charlotte ignored the Japanese MTV promos playing on it, and looked over her kills for the day: four full shopping bags from Harajuku. She leaned down and rummaged through, looking for that beautiful red sweater.
Where was it again?
Oh, here.
Charlotte held it up, inspecting it more closely, fingers feeling through the cotton knitting.
She walked over to the mirror, pulled off her shirt. She wanted to feel the sweater fabric next to her naked skin.
It fitted perfectly, molding to her form and she momentarily feared that it might shrink if she washed it. But for now, it was perfect. The blood red of the sweater looking striking on her pale skin.
Charlotte walked around the room, luxuriating how she felt with the sweater on. Confident. Sexy. So very her.)
- Mood:
contemplative
Imagine them in the hotel, but this time fate and luck is on their side for once; the yellow bastard doesn't interrupt their interlude. With the natural flow of things, I imagine Hartigan ultimately breaking down after some persistent seduction on the part of Alba's character. Despite Hartigan being a strong and chivalrous man, we have to realize that he's been in jail all this time. How would he react to a woman's touch for the first time in eight or so years? Not so well, I imagine him as being weakened by lack of. Nancy's really picking on that.
The fic is a oneshot and it's intended to be a tender and intimate glimpse into one moment of their lives. I feel really bad for them, so I had to pen this fic. I hope it works. Please give me feedback to let me know.
I'm also working on a companion piece to this one from Nancy's POV.
I can't believe I wrote this fic at my work. Keep on looking over my shoulders to make sure none of my coworkers are looking. Feel so naughty. lol. I think I need a shower to cool off now.
- Mood:
amused
By pk-angel
Disclaimer: No profit is being made of this piece of work.
Summary: John Hartigan and Nancy spend the night together.
Fandom: Sin City
Rating: NC-17, meaning there's sex involved, don't read if underage or if this subject makes you squemish
+++++++++
She told me to come closer.
That this wasn’t going to hurt.
I wanted to believe her.
++++
Awake.
My head is pounding and I’m aching for an aspirin.
I feel her stir next to me, naked skin damp and cool against mine. She mumbles something before snuggling her head closer to my neck. Another sigh of content, and that’s all it takes to bring me back to myself.
John Hartigan, what the hell are you doing?
Or, to be more precise, what the hell did you do?
My memory’s disjointed; fragmented shards, like bits and pieces of a dream. Too sweet to be real.
But she was here.
Skinny little Nancy Callahan…
Skinny grown up Nancy Callahan.
Nineteen years old. She’s here.
All too real. Everything’s too goddamn real. Real enough to make me feel like hurling from guilt.
Dirty old man.
She purrs.
Goddamn dirty old man.
I’m reminded of her, ten years ago…on that dock.
++++
In a flash, I’m back there with Roark in my sights.
Roark.
That goddamn son of a bitch. Didn’t think I would touch him, huh? A few well placed bullets and I’m sure he thought otherwise.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Nancy, curled up like a little kitten.
God, baby, don’t watch.
But she does. I can sense it.
I’m too far gone. No regrets. Just a twisted sense of satisfaction as I blow off his crotch.
Sorry, pal. Sex is a privilege you just lost.
He screams bloody hell and I’m thinking, it’s for moment’s like this I live for.
A shot rings out and my triumph is cut short.
I fall forward.
Fucken corrupt cops. Can’t trust no one. Not even your goddamn partner.
Bad memories though. They have a way of finding you.
++++
I close my eyes again.
Everything. My entire life’s like a series of bad choices.
Marrying, becoming a cop in this godforsaken city, and now…
The one thing I did right in my whole life was saving Nancy. That one thing, rescuing that little girl, defined my worth as a human being.
And I had to go and ruin it.
Horny old man, move!
I look over at Nancy. Her limbs are tangle with mine and I knew that this is going to be difficult. But I didn’t have a choice. I can’t stay. Not like this.
Just a child, my head screams out to me.
I feel dirty. I need a shower.
I hold my breath as I slowly pry her arms and legs from my body. She whimpers. Her face scrunches up, and she looks like she’s about to cry.
I give her the pillow I was lying on and she holds tightly onto it.
I kneel next to the bed, watching her as she slowly relaxes once again. Her lips curl into a smile. Sweet and innocent. Complete surrender.
Nancy.
Moonlight bathing her features, highlighting the shadows on her face, and she doesn’t seem real.
Her chest rising with every breath, every precious heartbeat and I can feel the tears.
Unworthy.
I bring my hands, those aged and well-worn hands, to my face and wipe away the tears before they fall.
My jacket’s hanging on the chair. It catches my eyes and I walk over to feel the pockets.
Gun’s still there. Good.
I move over to the door and check the lock. Secure.
I can’t let my guard down. Have to be careful now.
It’s soft: “Hartigan?”
Her voice when she calls to me.
I don’t turn around. I know she’s looking at me.
“Go back to sleep,” I tell her.
“Come back to bed.” Her voice is hoarse from waking so early, but still sultry and laced with a seductiveness that I can never describe.
She doesn’t have to try.
I grimace when I realize that I’m stark naked.
How disgusting, old man.
I think of the wrinkles. Love handles. White hair. Droopy skin. Fat where there shouldn’t be any.
“Are you okay?” she asks, concerned.
I quickly grab my pants lying next to the jacket and put them on. “Yeah,” I say, “just sleep.”
“Hartigan, please…” she begins. There’s a touch of longing in her voice.
I frown.
Don’t look at her, Hartigan. Whatever you do, don’t you dare look at her.
I grab the jacket, fling it to the floor and sit down in the chair.
Just breath deeply, I tell myself.
“So?”
“Yeah?”
“You just going to sit there?” I can feel her smirking at me and I know that she’s toying with me. All just a game.
I don’t look up. “I’m fine over here.”
“It’s going to get cold.”
I don’t answer.
“You’ll be warmer over here.”
She goes on and it continues for minutes. Her chiding me. Me telling her to leave me alone and that I was fine. But she keeps it up. Playful.
Women. They really just don’t when to quit.
I get angry. Can’t understand why she won’t leave me alone. I don’t want to touch her. I don’t want to soil her…at least…not any more than I already have.
“Look! Just…” I stop, my words catching in my throat.
Even in the dim light, I could see Nancy very clearly. She’s sitting up, pillows propped behind her. The blanket that I covered her with a few minutes ago was shrugged off.
I close my eyes tightly. It was too much.
Why the hell did I look up?
“Hartigan?”
My heart’s pounding in my chest, overworking itself once again tonight.
“Yes?” I grit my teeth when I hear her getting off the bed. My heart makes a painful contraction.
I pray to god she’s not walking towards me.
I grip my chest, perspiring like a madman.
She calls my name, concerned.
“Stop!” I tell her. “I’m okay. Really.”
I’m not. Damn heart.
I hold out my hand, trying to prevent her from getting any nearer. Of course, it doesn’t work.
Her hand feels icy cold against my cheeks. I automatically recoiled away from her touch, but she’s persistent, reaching out with her other hand to gently cradle the back of my head.
I can’t get away.
“Nancy!” I’m angry at being cornered.
I feel her lips on my cheeks. More kisses. Hot and soft. Her free hand draws a line down my chest, stopping to spread her palm over my heart.
I can make out her words in between her kisses. “I love this heart.”
She laps out her tongue, tasting my sweat. Her breathing quickening.
I could tell what she was after.
“Nancy, please…” I beg. My voice was shaky. God, I’m shaking so hard.
She kisses the corners of my mouth. “Please, what?” I can feel her smile.
“Just stop,” my voice is barely above a whisper.
And to my surprise, she stops.
I try to calm myself down, but my knuckles are white. I’m gripping the arms of the chair too tightly and I’m forgetting to breath.
Relax, John. Just don’t look at her. Don’t look at her.
I remind myself that I’m in control.
Breath. Cold showers. Cold showers. Cold showers.
It’s a mantra running over and over again, and I feel myself slowly calming down.
I could vaguely hear her rummaging around in her purse, but all I can think about is how much I’m still shaking. How I’m still sitting here covered in a cold sweat.
I can finally breathe again, relief washing over me in waves.
But I should’ve known how determine Nancy is.
++++
She straddles me, legs on either sides of the chair. Her arms hooked over my shoulders, trapping me again. I feel her lips on me. More kisses.
I open my mouth to protest and she takes advantage of it, kissing me. She wraps an arm around my neck and I can feel her desperation.
Her moans muffle my struggles against her as her hips grounded against mine. Each grind earns another sound from her. I could hear a symphony of soft gasps and heavy breathing and find, to my dismay, that the sounds were coming from me.
It’s a steady and hypnotizing rhythm.
I’m dizzy.
Stop. Old man. You have to stop!
Too late. The blood’s rushing from my head.
Her other hand snakes around my back and holds me. There’s something in her hand, small and pressing into my back.
It doesn’t take me long to realize that it was a condom.
Her intentions are clear.
No! Not again!
My eyes snap open.
She’s nuzzling my neck, groaning softly. “God, Hartigan.”
Her left hand grabs mine, and places it on her hip, helping her guide the rhythm.
I grip her. Hard. Hard enough to bruise.
I can’t think.
She throws her head back, exposing her neck to me. Vulnerable and trusting, and I can’t stop myself. I lean forwards, against all sane thought to taste her beautiful neck.
She lets out a moan of approval, and grinds her hips harder against me when I bite down on the spot between her neck and shoulders.
It’s too much. It’s more than I can bear.
I grab her, both hands. They wander greedily behind her back. Nancy tilts her head down, grabs my chin and kisses me. Hard and rough. She slips her tongue past my lips and flicks it against the roof of my mouth. I’m tasting her.
More moans, strangled from both of us as Nancy continues.
My resolves breaks.
I grab her up, and she lets out a gasp, surprised, as I take her with me.
Her back’s on the floor. The chair’s kicked back.
She giggles when I stop to catch my breath.
I stop, looking down at Nancy. Her playful eyes, dark and heavy. “Come and get it, Hartigan.”
I can’t move.
Nancy.
She reaches up and pulls me down, into another kiss.
Just a kid.
Her hand reaches down. There’s still enough sanity left in me to stop her.
She ceases her kisses and trains her eyes on me, trying to read me. Those eyes, so crisp and clear, hold me.
I can see her silently mouthing the words ‘let me’ as she slowly lowers her hand, grabbing a hold of the zipper.
I can’t stop looking at her as she bites her lips down in desire. “Come on,” she whispers, “give a little…” Her eyes narrow mischievously before adding, “…baby.”
She rolls me over, and moves down.
I can’t watch.
This is wrong. This is wrong…Wrong. So…why am I letting her?
She grabs my pants and slips them off of me, before leaning over me, her face, unreadable.
“Nancy,” name escaping my lips like a prayer.
“Tell me you want this,” she puts the condom package between her teeth.
“I…”
I can’t tell her, and I knew that I could never tell her.
There’s a sharp pained expression on her face and I realize I’ve hurt her.
But it doesn’t last for long. She shakes away her disappointment and, instead, rips open the condom. Her eyes focus on the task at hand.
She moves downward and licks me before placing the condom on.
++++
Nancy straddles my stomach and I can feel just how wet she is as she starts up a rhythm, using me to pleasure herself.
Another sharp moan from her.
And at that moment, I could feel no universe besides her.
I want her. Bad. And she could tell.
I’m aching.
Nancy moves down and readies herself for my entry.
I feel her tense.
She looks at me, eyes brimming over with love. “Help me,” she asks.
I don’t hesitate, placing my two hands over her hips to guide her down.
A gasp, followed by a long moan. I bite back a groan as I feel her closing in around me. Unbearable pleasure spiking within me.
She was so ready, so tight.
She throws her head back; her hair’s wild.
Finally, we’re together.
Her chest is heaving up and down, and I can tell that she’s feeling it.
After a moment she puts her arm on my shoulder, face flushed red with desire. She’s shaking.
“I love you,” she tells me, every word heartfelt.
I let her move. Up and down. Taking every bit of me with her. Leaving me wanting more.
Higher and higher.
She’s gasping. Her movements were getting faster.
I have to keep up.
“God…” her voice strangles in her throat.
She looks at me pleadingly and I realize that she wanted me to help her.
I grab her down and kiss her hard before rolling her onto her back; love’s too overwhelming a command to ignore.
It’s what she needed.
She wraps her legs tightly around me, her fingernail raking into my back, digging deep. She’s clawing at me now.
I move in and out.
Faster, she urges. Harder, she begs.
And I comply.
There’s a sheen of sweat coating her smooth skin. I bury my face in her hair. Never once breaking the rhythm.
She cries.
I breath her in deeply. Everything. Her hair, perfume…her sex, her essence. Everything.
She’s sobbing now.
“Baby,” I whisper, choked up with emotions I can’t seem to hold back.
Her breathing hitches. She’s coming. I can tell.
“Oh god! Oh god!”
I watch her as she comes.
“Don’t stop, Hartigan!” More hitches. She’s coming again. “I…”
Closer.
I’m not stopping. I don’t want to stop…I could stop.
I’m moving harder against her, gripping her. “Nancy. Please.”
She’s calling to me again. I can’t hold back.
Closer. Closer.
I snap.
The world’s shattering all around me and I’m plunged into darkness. All I can do is feel; more intensely than I’ve ever had.
The pain, the regrets, the years…everything vanishes in an instant, leaving nothing, except her. Only she remains.
++++
I’ve lost track of time.
When I came to, Nancy’s arms are around me, cradling me gently as she rocks me back and forth. She’s whispering in my ear.
I can make out what she’s saying.
“It’s okay,” she tells me, and I realize then that I’ve been crying.
We stay that way for a long time. On that cold wooden floor with my head pressed against her heart.
I can feel her breathing.
The End
- Location:work
- Mood:
accomplished
Author: pk_angel
Rating: R
Fandom: Bend it Like Beckham
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Although I wouldn’t mind having Keira or Parminder, but alas...Anyho, I don’t make any money off of this.
Warning: Some strong language
Summary: Jules convinces Jess to take revenge on their evil football captain
This is a very rough draft. Part 2 of 3 as it's turning out. Hope you like it. Please feedback.
=======
One look around the room and Jules could tell that she’s in enemy territory now.
Pictures of flattering hot guys on the wall. American boy bands, Jules figured. Hot pink everywhere and Greek Letters proudly displayed on coffee mugs and pillow cases. The scent of old Dior wafting through the air and into her nose. All of it was nearly enough to make her puke.
Focus, Jules repeated to herself.
She opened the backpack and retrieved the bags.
‘What to do first,’ she pondered, her mind running through all the deliciously evil things she was about to do.
Her eyes scanned the room and finally rested on a lone picture frame: the captain, arms wrapped around her lovely beau.
Jules walked over, grabbed a nearby marker, and doodled on the picture. A mustache. It’s not bad.
It was a start.
She smiled to herself, leaning in and kissing the beau in the picture. He wasn’t a bad looking bloke, and Jules had to admit to herself that the captain, at the very least, had good taste.
--
Thirty minutes in and Jules had finished her graffiti on the wall. She dumped the unused portion of the doggy crap on the beds, and used her gloved hands to smear it all over the Greek Letters of the pillowcases.
Next, the toilet paper.
Sure it wasn’t the same as teepeeing the trees outside people’s houses, but it was the next best thing.
Jules unrolled one roll of toilet paper after another, and then another till she carpeted the floor in white.
Some on the beds…
Jules grabbed the duct tape she found lying on the roommates’ table. Her conscience smushed down on the guilt of vandalizing the roommate’s property along with the captain’s.
‘Eh, she was a bitch too.’
With that thought Jules stood ontop of one of the roommate’s bed and started to tape hanging rolls of toilet paper to the ceiling.
Oh, they were coming home to a surprise all right. They’re coming home to a white Christmas and a chuckle.
--
It’s cold. Freezing like hell. Cold. Freezing her ass off while Jules is warm and cozy with the dorm’s heater on.
“Shite,” Jess rubbed her arms, trying to warm herself up.
Maybe she shouldn’t have volunteered to be the lookout.
Jess was seated under a tree now, eyes drifting open and shut. Sleep tempting her to just leave them shut.
Jess shook her head.
“Wake up!” Jess reminded herself.
Blinks rapidly, her senses heightening.
She surveyed the grounds.
Streetlights. Bushes. Sidewalk. Cat.
No, no unusual activities here. Just the cat.
“Here, kitty kitty. Here, kitty kitty.”
Jess reached out her hands and motioned for the cat to come closer. “Come on, girl.”
The cat looked reluctant. Eyes opened and alert to danger. But at the same time, it was curious. The creature motioning to it seemed friendly and defenseless enough.
One paw at a time. Cautiously at first, but soon the cat was next to Jess.
Jess petted its head softly noting how the cat’s eyes grew wider every time she petted it’s head upward.
“Such a lovely cat.”
Judging from the cat’s reaction, Jess figured that it was okay to do a little more.
She reached out and picked up the cat gently, placing it in her lap.
Comfortable.
“You’ve got big eyes like Jules, you know that, kitty? Lovely eyes, really.”
Her eyebrows crinkled, thinking about Jules then.
“And Jules, here, talks about getting into trouble all the time, and I listen, eh. I don’t know why.”
Jess scratched the back of the cats ear, causing it to purr some more.
She smiles, “But you don’t understand a word of what I’m saying, right kitty? You’re so lucky to be so oblivious.”
The cat, the night, the sounds of local crickets. All of it settles into Jess, lulling her into a sense of security. She almost lost track of why she’s here in the first place.
Then she hears it:
It’s distant and kind of vague, but there’s no mistaking it.
The sound of the captain’s shrilled laughter mixed in with the voices of her girlfriends. Jess could even make out their faint tiny outlines in the distance.
“Oh my god,” Jess panicked, quickly standing up and dropping the cat.
The cat scurries off, but stops a few feet away to watch as Jess fumbles around in her pocket, fishing out her cellphone.
She’s shaking, but Jess managed to quickly punch in the numbers.
Ring.
Ring.
No one’s picking up.
“Come on…come on.” She prayed, her teeth chattering, her nerves strung.
A click and a voice on the other end. “Yeah, Jess?”
“Get out!”
--
“Shite!”
Jules dropped the toilet paper on the floor, adrenaline rushing in her system, as she quickly grabbed the backpacks and rope.
--
Outside, the girls were approaching.
Jess turned her back to them and faced the tree.
She couldn’t run and hide and leave Jules.
There was a terrible moment, when the captain passed by, that Jess thought she would recognize her.
‘Be invisible. Please be invisible.’ Jess prayed, yet again that night.
But the captain didn’t noticed, already hammered out of her senses to notice a person standing nonchalantly by the tree outside her dorm.
There was no time for celebration.
Jules was still up there and Jess was still wondering why the bloody hell she wasn’t down here already.
--
From the window, Jules could hear the captain pause to fish out her keys.
When the door shut, Jules would be ready to climb the hell out of there.
But the captain was taking an awful long time. Each second an agonizing eternity as the sounds of keys finally emerged
Downstairs, the door opens and signaled to Jules to start running.
Her feet catch on one of the stray toilet rolls and she trips, smacking ungracefully to the ground, which was, luckily covered in toilet paper.
A moment of bruising hurt with stars and the pounding.
“Ow…”
Jules is almost out, but she grits her teeth.
With brute determination, she pushed herself up, shaking of the shock to quickly walk towards the window…reached out to the branch and hooked onto it.
Shimming out was so much harder than shimming in.
--
From below Jess watched as Jules climbed across that thick branch. A dreadful feeling killing her. The feeling that they could very really get caught...what then?
But Jules was almost down now.
Jess didn’t realize that Jules was going to drop down, to make a quick getaway. She also didn’t realize that she was standing in the way. What’s worst, she didn’t realize this until it was too late.
“Oh my god!”
Her feet pick up to run away, and it was at this time her brain chose to ask, quite possibly the most stupidest question in the world: which way?
--
Jules came crashing down hard, knocking the wind out of Jess. The two girls lay sprawled on the floor. Their voices echoing moans. A cacophony of pain.
Jess coughed, trying to breathe, while Jules crushed her.
The other girl was having a hard time recovering from the impact too, despite the fact that she used Jess as a buffer between her and the ground.
Jess gritted her teeth, “Get off of me…please. Crushing. Crushing me.” More coughing.
A part of Jess, the more cynical part, wondered how a girl so skinny could possibly weigh so much.
Somehow, through her own numb senses, Jess’ pleas reached her. With a grunt, Jules manage to roll off the poor girl.
Face on the grass, both of them breathing quickly, trying desperately to recover.
Jules first of course, taking less pain since Jess absorbed most of the impact.
She sat up and reached over to grab Jess arm, pulling both of them to their feet. Fear and panic driving her to drag Jess along.
“Jess, RUN!”
Author: pk_angel
Rating: R
Fandom: Bend it Like Beckham
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Although I wouldn’t mind having Keira or Parminder, but alas...Anyho, I don’t make any money off of this.
Warning: Language and discussion of sex
Summary: Jess and Jules wake up naked in bed together after a night of drinking…
Author’s Note:
I really, really wanted to finish this story and this is a very rough draft submitted for peer review and suggestions. I’m going to revise this, because it doesn’t feel polish for some reason. The ending seems especially rushed and disjointed simply because I really didn’t know how I wanted to write it. Moreover, this story is told from Jules’ perspective and, because of the alcohol, her perception itself is fragmented. Please review, as this is the first long story I’ve completed. Thanks and I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this.
- Location:home
- Mood:
tired
Because they have this picture:
So...yeah...I'm at lost for words. Sexy, beautiful, elegant, hot...yadda yah yah seems too simple to describe her. In case you didn't know, check out Casino Royale, because Eva Green is a great actress to boot. So watch and join me in my worship.
SO HOT.
*will get back to work and attempt to stop drooling*
I'm currently reading up on playwriting and screenplay writings. I think that's the problem, I don't read enough. It's good to be original, but you need a solid foundation to stand on, learning from other people's experiences. If there's anything I've picked up from reading these 'how-to' books it's that a story is always about DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA. Which, in turn, translates into...CONFLICT CONFLICT CONFLICT. Be concise and too the point, but you should always remember the drive of your creative story process as that. That, for me, is something difficult to learn, since I'm so used to writing about characters as first and conflict as secondary.
I want to get an MFA in screenplay writing though...or drama. I know I have a lot to learn and a lot (understatement) to improve on, and I'm humble enough to know that I can't do it alone. In a way, what I'm saying is that, I want so desperately to be a good writer. But the feeling of 'Oh my God. I suck like hell' hasn't escape me.
Firstly, I don't have a very good command of the English language. I get tongue tied and fall into grammatical pitfalls all the time. I definitely use too much commas. It's dumped everywhere like an clothes in an unkempt bedroom. This sentence alone reminds me of how unimaginative I can get. But I'm stubborn, and I'll keep pushing on. If only because I have no choice.
Author: pk_angel
Rating: PG
Fandom: Lost in Translation
Disclaimer: Property of the one and only Sophia Coppola. I’m poor so don’t sue since no profit is being made off of this.
Summary: Charlotte and Bob have just parted way, but goodbye isn’t always forever…
Note: chapters 1 and 2
( Click here to view fic )
- Location:home
- Mood:
satisfied - Music:Edwin McCain- I'll Be
- Location:home
- Mood: pleased
- Music:Az Yet- Hard to Say I'm Sorry
Link: http://www.darkscribes.org/site/html_arc
Author: Random1377
Rating: R to NC-17 (depends on if you read the *lemon* chapter*)
Fandom: Evangelion
Warning: lots--- pedophilic relationship, harsh language, blatant discussion of sex
Summary: Misato and Shinji start something…
Review:
“I think…” Misato said carefully, “that she… used to sleep around – but that she’s trying to get back to being a good person.”
This is one of those fics I’m iffy about recommending simply because of the subject matter. At the same time, however, this story is less about sex then it is about a relationship that is sexual…if that makes any sense. Anyhow, from the summary you can tell it’s a fic about what would happen if Shinji and Misato became involved. There’s no way to ignore the age difference here (some Misato/Shinji fics do that…it’s annoying); it becomes a crucial part of the drama. Shinji is clearly young and inexperienced. Misato is really his first love relationship ever, which is pretty significant considering that the only other person to have ever really loved him was his mother. Misato, on the other hand, is looking for a way to escape having destructive relationships with men where she either uses men for sex or is used by them; and she believes that she has found that escape through Shinji. It’s never sure whether or not she’s just using Shinji or that she really loves him; she walks a thin line between the two in any case. In sum, Misato and Shinji are two very damaged individuals. There’s a tone of desperation on Misato's part to reach out and finally make a meaningful connection with another living person, and, I have to be honest, I really feel for her.
Random1377 strips these two people bare and shows us the vulnerability that we are all capable of having, and that, underneath the surface, we are all desperately searching, like Misato, to connect with another person on a very deep level; we crave it even if we won’t admit it. The fic also explores the dark side of love and makes us think deeply about the nature of love. For example, if we really love someone then we’ll do what is best for them even if it hurts us, but, how many of us follow through with that? *think Tristan and Isolde* When we say we are in love, then, are we actually using the other person to make us feel love or do we honestly care about their wellbeing, putting them above our own needs? Hmm…I still don’t know.
Anyho, don’t read this fic if you aren’t comfortable with a 14 year old boy and an adult woman engage in a pretty sexual relationship. If you are willing to take the plunge, I think you’ll find a pretty decent fic. Random1377 does a good job of presenting realistic scenerios within the context of the Evangelion universe. The writing is also well done, but nothing too amazing. It’s the characterization that holds and highlights the piece, raising it above your average Evangelion fic.
- Location:home
- Mood: thoughtful
- Music:Seamo
