A drabble writing community. Write 100 words based on the weekly prompt.
Prompt #16: Quote III
Hello from 100 Words!
This week's prompt is a quotation: There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. (Leonard Cohen)
Your response should be exactly 100 words long. You do not have to include the prompt in your response -- it is meant as a starting place only.
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It was late and they drifted to the bedroom. Quietly exchanging their work clothes for pajamas. Another fight but his heart wasn’t in it. When he lay down he reached out to brush her side just as she turned to face the window, shade drawn and dark. He withdrew his hand and closed his eyes, falling back into himself and sensing the chasm between them. He felt alone, detached, with no inkling of how she felt. He seemed to float next to that chasm that sought to separate them. Concentrate he thought, try to sleep, it will be light tomorrow.
Nicely done, and the sense of isolation and resignation in this is painful.
Excellent!
Hearbreakingly perfect.
Title - A little light (Original)
It was barely dawn.
His sneakers pressed against the steps to the subway platform as he looked down. They look worn out, he thought. He remembered when he bought them with the allowance money he had saved. Trying them on in the store, looking at the stripes and red laces and admiring something he owned for the first time. Now, two years later, they had become tattered. Holes in the toes and the shine faded from the bright stripes. What color were they now? Brick? Mud? Too long to keep shoes, he supposed. Would the people on the train notice?
I really like this, and it paints a sharp, evocative picture of this kid's life.
Thanks!
Very evocative!
Thank you!
Trigger Warning - Suicide reference
She was good at her job, she was bad at making friends. They assumed she was a snob, that she thought she was better than them, that she judged them. “Does she fit into our culture?” they whispered when they thought she was out of earshot. She quietly went about her work, day in and day out, speaking little and never making eye contact, avoiding personal conversation. Then one day she didn’t, one day turned into two, they found her on the third. The note said “They hate me, they shut me out.” On the fourth day they stopped assuming.
Um, sorry, this is the first time I've done this and that turned out WAY darker than I first thought.
No need to apologize! Thank you for the trigger warning.
Excellent drabble. I unfortunately relate way too well to cliquish work and school environments and not fitting in with others. I think it's something a lot of people understand. If you're worried about this being dark, I would put a warning for implied suicide on this piece.
Thanks for the suggestion!
Just heartbreaking.
Fandom: The Fosters
Characters: Ana Gutierrez & Gabriel Duncroft
Gabe doesn’t know why Ana’s the first person he thinks of calling when he realizes that running away from his problems isn’t going to solve anything.
He doesn’t know why she bothers to show up when he asks her to come over and talk, or why she doesn’t walk out on him when he changes his mind and starts to shut down again.
He doesn’t know why, after sixteen years of not having seen or spoken to her, she’s still the light at the end of his tunnel— just that she is. And that it’s not fair to her.
I'm not familiar with the fandom, but this is wonderfully bittersweet, and I hope these two manage to work things out.
Thank you! Bittersweet is probably the best word to use to describe the history between these two. They dated in high school and didn't work out (long story), but they're on good terms now.
I love this. I can definitely see Gabe leaning on Ana and knowing he shouldn't.
Thank you! I figure it would be something he struggles with.
Aw. Even though I don't know the fandom, you made a whole relationship out of a few words. Nicely done.
Thank you! There's a lot to explore with their relationship, so I'm always looking forward to writing them.
This is a continuation of my last drabble
He led me into a sitting room and waved me to sit in a squashy armchair. I held his gaze as he sat opposite me, fascinated by the way the light got caught in those eyes, shrinking the pupils to a vertical line. He laid an arm along the back of the couch, watching me the way a cat watches a small rodent or a bird. “Come to gawk at the beast?”
I blinked. “No. I think you’re beautiful.”
He smiled, and the amber of his eyes lit up like the coals in a grate when the bellows are used.
Oh, this is lovely – a great take on Beauty and the Beast, and I love the image in the last line.
+1 For the use of the word "bellows" :)
Wonderful description!
Fandom: Angel the series, set at the end of 5.12 (You're Welcome)
Pairing: Angel/Cordelia
Warnings: Major Character Death
Angel never needed sunlight. He had Cordelia.
Cordelia to offer him a ficus plant or make him attend a party. Cordelia to reassure him whenever his past sent him spiraling into guilt. Cordelia to light up his world with her incredible smile, to warm his heart with a simple hug. Cordelia to keep him company when he lost Connor.
She always banished the darkness, letting hope shine through the cracks in Angel's armor.
Until she left. All stars burn out eventually.
He stares at the space she used to occupy, phone cracking under his hand, and asks when she died.
Oh, ouch – this went from sweet to sad in .05 seconds, but it was great all the way through, especially "All stars burn out eventually."
Thank you! That tone shift was necessary with these two (they're very cute in canon, but had a really tragic ending), and I'm glad you appreciated that stars line.
Possibly my favorite of your Angel/Cordelia drabbles. Well done. <3
Oh, wow! Thank you. That's a huge compliment since I've written a lot for these two.
(Fandom: Mad Max: Fury Road, Toast & Furiosa)
What Toast has learned, since old Joe's fall, is that the Wasteland isn't an easy place to love, but sunrise over the desert is always a glory. Light spills across the dunes, painting the horizon in fire, and even Furiosa's breath catches, though nothing fazes her and she must have seen it numberless times before.
Like a crack in the world, Toast thinks, a window to someplace where rain still falls sweet and clean.
They watch – silent, barely breathing – then drive on. Other worlds are fine for dreaming, but this is where they are now.
They've got work to do.
I'm not familiar with the fandom, but the writing is beautifully descriptive.
I especially love that sentence.
Aw, thank you, and I'm glad you liked it despite not knowing the fandom! MMFR is basically a two-hour extended action scene set in a post-apocalyptic world, with some really good character moments and visual worldbuilding along the way. If you like action movies, I highly recommend it.
You're welcome! I'm not into action movies, but I have heard really great things about MMFR so maybe someday (:
I still haven't seen MM:FR (so ashamed), but I adore this.
Thank you so much! And I definitely recommend seeing it if you get a chance and you like action movies. :)
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), set during 4.21
Characters/Pairing: Steve and Danny, possible Steve/Danny subtext
Warnings: Aftermath of torture, character almost died
Steve thinks he's dreaming when he cracks open his eyes and sees Danny's face. The last thing Steve remembers is a Taliban member holding a knife to his throat. It doesn't make sense that Danny is here in Afghanistan, wearing a comfy sweater and gazing at Steve with concern.
Nothing about this makes sense.
"What are you looking at me like that for?"
He doesn't know? "I can't believe you flew all this way."
Danny glances away. "I had to make sure you were okay."
The way he acts like it's no big deal makes the least sense of all.
Perfect!
Thanks! I'm glad you liked that line. And I just shake my head at the way Danny sacrifices so much for Steve like it's no big deal. Oh, Danny.
Fandom: Friends, the last scene of 8.24 (TOW Rachel Has a Baby)
Pairing/Characters: Rachel POV, complicated Ross/Rachel, Joey/Rachel (subtext on her part)
When Rachel had her first child, she thought she would be married.
Or at least that the father wouldn't be flirting with a nurse right after she gave birth.
Janice's words are getting to her. She cries when she pictures being a single mother, Ross finding someone.
Joey, like always, is there for her. He rubs her hand, hugs her, and promises she will never be alone.
And then he pulls out a ring.
Rachel does love Joey, even if it's not the way he loves her.
It's not what she imagined, but she feels comforted, hopeful.
"Okay," Rachel replies.
Oh man, this is just... ::shakes fist at Friends writers::
I know, right? Thanks for commenting!
Fandom: Friends, set during 9.13 (TOW Monica Sings)
Characters/Pairing: Rachel POV, dysfunctional Ross/Rachel, Joey/Rachel subtext
Rachel was furious. Ross had no right to act so controlling when they weren't together. The way he had accused her of being a neglectful mother was inexcusable.
She couldn't live with Ross, so she returned to the place where she always felt welcome.
Joey answered the door to his apartment, and Rachel asked if she and Emma could live with him for a while.
Joey raised his oddly thin eyebrows in surprise and answered, "of course." She melted into his embrace, and Joey carefully wrapped his arms around her. Here, Rachel felt safe and loved. This was her home.
I'd ask you to stop breaking my heart, but I know it's not your fault. Way to make something beautiful out of the cards the canon dealt you.
Thanks! And, honestly, the way canon treated these two makes me more determined to ship them and write about them. I feel that way about Angel/Cordelia too.
The Deorbit of MIR
Space is a devastating environment. There is no creation or destruction; such implies that an object is more important than its compounds, and nothing has importance here. Technically, I could be described as a tragedy built of the carcasses of dead stars, but it's less disheartening to call me a brilliant invention, isn't it? Even as such, I can't regret the tears in my walls as I fall to Earth. A smaller object pulled into a greater object by gravity; this isn't death, but the way of the universe. I was always dust; now, the dust is just torn apart.
Oh, very cool. I love the choice of perspective, and this is a particularly great line for a nonhuman POV: "such implies that an object is more important than its compounds, and nothing has importance here."
I adore how you give these machines personality and life.
Fandom: Angel the series, set during 3.11 (Birthday)
Pairing: Angel/Cordelia (possibly more subtext than text)
Skip puts his hand to her forehead, and then Cordelia closes her eyes, blinded by the flashing light---
Suddenly, she's back in Angel's room, back arching and screaming as the pain from the demonization process courses through her body.
When she sits up, Angel is right beside her, as always, holding out his arms towards her. He moves a bit awkwardly and then pulls her into a fierce, yet gentle hug.
"I thought I'd lost you," he says, his hand stroking the ends of her hair.
"Angel," Cordelia breathes, closing her eyes in relief. She's so glad to be home.
This recurring theme of "home" -- well played, you. Well played.
Thank you! It wasn't even intentional; it just ended up fitting those particular moments and pairings.
Aw, this is lovely!
Thank you!
My first attempt at one of these. Not sure I conveyed what I was trying to, but here it goes:
Thursday, 5:15pm. The bell that hung on the door rang and I always knew who it was. He was an older man, early 80’s; Always wore his hat, his shoes, and his tie was always straight. He sat in his usual booth and removed the picture from his briefcase and placed it across the table. It’s was photo of a woman in her early twenties with her hand placed on the hood of an older white car, smiling ear to ear. I walked over, “Evening, Warren! Let’s see, two slices of apple pie, one for you, one for her?”
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Danny feels confused when he wakes up to sunlight streaming in through the slats of wooden blinds. His room doesn't have wooden blinds.
He glances around. This isn't his room at all.
He remembers the night before. Oh. This is Steve's room.
He can still smell Steve on the pillow where his head was resting next to Danny's.
He pulls the sheet around his body, suddenly cold, until he hears a key in the lock downstairs and footsteps making their way towards him.
Steve opens the door, smiling brightly, coffees and malasadas in hand.
"Good morning, Danno."
Good morning, indeed.
A very good morning!
Yes! :-D Thank you for commenting!
This is wonderfully sweet!
Thank you! That's definitely the tone I was going for.
Fandom: MCU (post CA:CW)
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Tony’s eyes slide up at the sound of his voice, and for a moment he looks—normal. Like himself again; the relaxed, distracted, slightly irritated version of himself that Steve used to be allowed to see.
But then he realizes who it is, and Tony’s expression shutters. He puts down the—whatever he’d been working on, something small and shiny—and straightens up, slow. By the time he speaks, Tony’s expression is blank again, and hard.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” he says. Then he looks away and waits, patiently, for Steve to say or do whatever he’d come for.
For the first time, I think the amount I had to cut from this drabble really made it weaker. Normally the cuts condense it and get it down to a nice little crystal of an idea, but it doesn't feel that way this time. Oh well.
Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
(this is Mirror!Verse)
“You don’t belong in Starfleet,” the thug sneers. “We’re gonna make an example.”
Kirk, kneeling, aware there’s another cadet behind him, laughs. The guy turns purple with rage. “Did you pay him,” Kirk jerks his head backwards, “or blackmail him?” The thug twitches; Kirk laughs again.
The thug drops before he registers the hiss of the hypospray. Bones nods to the cadet as Kirk stands. “He a problem?”
Kirk turns. “Still worried about blackmail?”
“Nope.” The cadet flees.
Kirk pulls Bones into a kiss. “Right on time,” he breathes.
Trust, he muses, is the perfect backdoor into the Starfleet system.
Playing man
I looked at the small coffin in front of me, not really seeing it, not wanting to see it. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He was too young to die.
Someone shook me to offer their condolences. I nodded along, numb, before stepping out in the sunlight, narrowing my eyes at the sky, leaves twirling in the breeze.
Anger coursed through me. This shouldn't happen. To anyone. Ever.
If there wasn't any god, then I was going to step in to fill the void.
If I had to crack the universe to let the light in - so be it.
Oooh, I like this!
Just FYI, every tenth week is "Amnesty Week," in which we invite everyone to revisit old prompts. You are more than welcome to comment on old prompts in their original threads, but fewer people will see your work. 😉
Thanks! And, TIL about Amnesty Week.
(Final Fantasy VI, Terra/Celes, brief allusion to suicide if you know the game)
They camp that night in the shelter of a broken line of cliffs overlooking an ashen plain, a few sparse trees scattered below. Celes listens to the wind, high and hollow. Even with Terra resting against her shoulder, the two of them curled in the shared heat beneath one cloak, it feels lonely.
"The world looks so different now," Celes whispers. Terra shivers in her arms.
"The world is dead."
Too easy to believe it.
"But we're not," Celes says roughly, and kisses her, hands in her hair – remembering dark oceans, and falling, and everything else she believes in more.
I. Love. This.
Aw, thank you again!
He cringed, and hoped no one noticed. He had just let the light slip through the crack and with everything he had, he hoped no one noticed. But, someone noticed.
She was in the corner. In his defense, although generally he never missed the smallest detail, even her family often tended to forget she was there. That is how he had gotten where he is and until now there had been no cracks for the light to get through, no chinks in the amour, as they say. He continued his oration confident that his amour was intact. They Loved Him
Nicely done!
Just as an FYI every tenth week is Amnesty Week, when we post all of the previous prompts and encourage people to tackle them. Don't let that stop you from writing anything you want, but more people will see your fiction on old prompts during that week! 😉
Thanks. I wrote down the prompt when it was posted and finally got around to putting pen to paper. Wanted to post before I lost my nerve.
Awwww. Don't be nervous! We love fic! <3
Thanks, I'll be trying again. Love the prompts!