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rainbowfic2012-01-16 08:31 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2012-01-16 08:31 pm
Entry tags:
Dreams
Author: Kat
Title: Dreams
Story: In The Heart
Colors: White opal 18 (there's nothing more boring than hearing someone else's dream), iceberg 8 (scarf).
Supplies and Materials: None.
Word Count: 605.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Ivy and Gina walk home from a date and talk about dreams.
Warnings: None.
Notes: I wrote this for the sexisnottheenemy ficathon (I found my prompt very inspiring, okay?).
After lunch, after the movie, after crepes and window-shopping and people-watching, Gina and Ivy walked down the street in the slanting light of late afternoon, hand-in-hand and giggling.
It really had been an excellent day.
"...but that guy," Ivy said, waving her free hand so enthusiastically Gina was glad there was no one else in their vicinity. "That guy!"
"The street juggler," she asked, "or the guy from the movie?"
Ivy laughed. "Movie. I actually thought the juggler was kind of cool. Would've been cooler if he'd juggled knives, though. Or flaming things."
"You say cooler, I say scarier," Gina said, and squeezed Ivy's hand. "Which guy from the movie?"
"The pretentious one," Ivy said. "The one who kept going around telling everyone about his dreams." She made quotes with her free hand, and rolled her eyes.
"I know!" Gina exclaimed. "Oh my God, and he was so... you could just tell the director thought it was so symbolic and so interesting, but I was bored out of my skull. And I did my thesis on Toni Morrison! I eat symbolism for breakfast!"
Ivy nodded. "I just stopped paying attention when he came on screen myself. It's just so ridiculous! I mean, I'm sorry, but who the hell wants to hear about someone else's dreams?"
Gina blinked, and actually thought about the question for a minute. "Well," she said, slowly. "I want to hear about your dreams."
Her girlfriend stopped walking, tugging on Gina's hand so she, perforce, stopped walking too. "Really?"
"Well, yes," she said, and tugged Ivy to the side, up against a big blue door, out of the wind and the traffic. "I love you. Pretty much everything about you interests me, even your dreams."
"Huh," Ivy said, a thoughtful line creasing the inside of her brow. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
Gina tilted her head to the side. "Are you not interested in my dreams?" she teased.
"Depends on what you mean by dreams," Ivy said, seriously. "If we're talking, like, hopes and wishes for the rest of your life, I'm definitely interested. I hope I'm part of them--" Gina squeezed her hand again in answer-- "but regardless, I want to know. But if we're talking weird-ass night visions about... about Russian babushka pterodactyls trying to kill you in the back of a taxi, okay, I'd probably want to hear about that one because it's so bizarre, but not generally."
"First of all," Gina said, and took Ivy's free hand in hers, just to hold on to her, "you are in my dreams. Both kinds."
Ivy waggled her eyebrows, which made her giggle, and said, "Am I naked?" which made her giggle more.
"Sometimes," she said, when she finally got control of herself. "Anyway. Second, it's okay if you're not interested in boring everyday dreams. I promise to only tell you about the really bizarre ones. Third, where the hell did you get the Russian babushka pterodactyl?"
Ivy shrugged, and smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "I actually had that dream," she said. "Couple of weeks ago. It sort of stuck in my mind."
"It would." The picture she'd formed was definitely memorable.
"Yeah," Ivy said, and then, "I promise to listen to your dreams, any time you want to tell me. Actually, I promise to listen to you any time you talk to me, because I love you, and I'm always interested in you, even if you're talking about really boring dreams."
Gina smiled at her, then grabbed Ivy's scarf, pulled her forward, and kissed her, there in the blue doorway in the late afternoon light.
Title: Dreams
Story: In The Heart
Colors: White opal 18 (there's nothing more boring than hearing someone else's dream), iceberg 8 (scarf).
Supplies and Materials: None.
Word Count: 605.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Ivy and Gina walk home from a date and talk about dreams.
Warnings: None.
Notes: I wrote this for the sexisnottheenemy ficathon (I found my prompt very inspiring, okay?).
After lunch, after the movie, after crepes and window-shopping and people-watching, Gina and Ivy walked down the street in the slanting light of late afternoon, hand-in-hand and giggling.
It really had been an excellent day.
"...but that guy," Ivy said, waving her free hand so enthusiastically Gina was glad there was no one else in their vicinity. "That guy!"
"The street juggler," she asked, "or the guy from the movie?"
Ivy laughed. "Movie. I actually thought the juggler was kind of cool. Would've been cooler if he'd juggled knives, though. Or flaming things."
"You say cooler, I say scarier," Gina said, and squeezed Ivy's hand. "Which guy from the movie?"
"The pretentious one," Ivy said. "The one who kept going around telling everyone about his dreams." She made quotes with her free hand, and rolled her eyes.
"I know!" Gina exclaimed. "Oh my God, and he was so... you could just tell the director thought it was so symbolic and so interesting, but I was bored out of my skull. And I did my thesis on Toni Morrison! I eat symbolism for breakfast!"
Ivy nodded. "I just stopped paying attention when he came on screen myself. It's just so ridiculous! I mean, I'm sorry, but who the hell wants to hear about someone else's dreams?"
Gina blinked, and actually thought about the question for a minute. "Well," she said, slowly. "I want to hear about your dreams."
Her girlfriend stopped walking, tugging on Gina's hand so she, perforce, stopped walking too. "Really?"
"Well, yes," she said, and tugged Ivy to the side, up against a big blue door, out of the wind and the traffic. "I love you. Pretty much everything about you interests me, even your dreams."
"Huh," Ivy said, a thoughtful line creasing the inside of her brow. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
Gina tilted her head to the side. "Are you not interested in my dreams?" she teased.
"Depends on what you mean by dreams," Ivy said, seriously. "If we're talking, like, hopes and wishes for the rest of your life, I'm definitely interested. I hope I'm part of them--" Gina squeezed her hand again in answer-- "but regardless, I want to know. But if we're talking weird-ass night visions about... about Russian babushka pterodactyls trying to kill you in the back of a taxi, okay, I'd probably want to hear about that one because it's so bizarre, but not generally."
"First of all," Gina said, and took Ivy's free hand in hers, just to hold on to her, "you are in my dreams. Both kinds."
Ivy waggled her eyebrows, which made her giggle, and said, "Am I naked?" which made her giggle more.
"Sometimes," she said, when she finally got control of herself. "Anyway. Second, it's okay if you're not interested in boring everyday dreams. I promise to only tell you about the really bizarre ones. Third, where the hell did you get the Russian babushka pterodactyl?"
Ivy shrugged, and smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "I actually had that dream," she said. "Couple of weeks ago. It sort of stuck in my mind."
"It would." The picture she'd formed was definitely memorable.
"Yeah," Ivy said, and then, "I promise to listen to your dreams, any time you want to tell me. Actually, I promise to listen to you any time you talk to me, because I love you, and I'm always interested in you, even if you're talking about really boring dreams."
Gina smiled at her, then grabbed Ivy's scarf, pulled her forward, and kissed her, there in the blue doorway in the late afternoon light.
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Thank you!
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This is really sweet! I love it.
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Thank you!
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Thank you!
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Awesome job!
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Thank you!
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Thank you!
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I like it a LOT.
Thank you so much for posting!
I hit post too soon, that. Bother. Anyway!
"I eat symbolism for breakfast!"
Had me in a jiggly heap on the floor. As did so much of the dialog. It was sweet and HILARIOUS and sexy. Very nice character study and you really could not have done better with that prompt.
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