intheheart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
intheheart) wrote2013-03-06 02:44 am
intheheart) wrote2013-03-06 02:44 am
Entry tags:
- au: apocalyptic,
- au: epic pirate au,
- au: fairy tales,
- au: george,
- au: miscallaneous,
- au: sisters,
- au: sunny,
- au: the house,
- au: urban fantasy,
- character: amanda foster,
- character: gina caravecchio,
- character: jake foster,
- character: lauren foster,
- character: matthew marhenke,
- character: olivia marhenke,
- drabble chains
Sweet to My Taste
Title: Sweet to My Taste
Rating: PG.
Summary: Jake and Olivia.
Warnings: brief mention of sexual assault, death by virulent disease
AU: Fairy Tales, Poly, Sisters, Wild West, EPIC PIRATE AU, Apocalypse, Sunny, AU George, The House, Urban Fantasy
Notes: Poly AU borrowed from Sara, Geena, and Kelly-- thanks, guys!
1. candy apple
Apples are dangerous. You take a bite of one and fall into death; steal one and meet your true lost love. Olivia picked one up off a plate and met Jake's eyes. He kissed her juice-stained lips and fell into love. She tasted like apples, sweet and crisp, like candy, sugar melting on his tongue.
Apples are dangerous. He picked her out and wouldn't choose another. She saw beyond his skin to the pale flesh beneath, the seeds of bitter under the outer sweet. She loved it all.
Apples are dangerous. Apples are temptation.
Reach out and take a bite.
2. cotton candy
It isn't always easy being monogamous. Jake has the excuse at least of being Christian; Olivia can only shrug and say she's never fallen in love with anyone else. It’s the truth, after all. She met Jake when she was twenty-two and she's been in love with him ever since, without a flicker of feeling for anyone else stronger than friendship.
What does it matter, anyway? She loves Jake. He loves her. Their daughters are loved, as well as they both know how. Her life is like cotton candy—threads of distaste melt in her mouth, and only sweetness remains.
3. gumball
For all Amanda and Lauren Foster could not possibly be more different, they share two loves: gumballs, and Jacob Foster.
They are both skeptical of Olivia at first. Amanda warms up to her fast, but Lauren takes a long time—longer, after they get back together. She can't help it, she has fundamental trust issues. She's like a gumball herself: hard outer shell with a gooey chewy center, and she's so tired of being chewed on.
But Olivia stays, and Jake adores her, and in the end Lauren can't help but give in. After all, fellow gumballs gotta stick together.
4. caramel
There's a stranger in town, a round-faced girl with caramel curls who keeps her eyes down and shies away from conversation. Jake keeps an eye on her because that's his job, and this far west, a lone woman is a target.
His fears are justified when he hears a scream, and he pounds towards the sound—but he might have spared his breath, because by the time he arrives, she's finished the fight.
He stops short, and touches his hat. "Ma'am. Need some help with the rubbish?"
"If you would be so good," she replies.
Her smile illuminates her face.
5. saltwater taffy
They don't go sailing, the pair of them—Jake gets seasick and Olivia fears missing her father. They stay on land in Plymouth. They are most comfortable in the shop on long afternoons, Olivia mending, Jake examining Ivy's latest haul, side by side behind the counter, dust motes dancing in the sunlight.
Sometimes the wind from the south, off the sea, presses salt to the back of their throats. On those days they go up to the meadows, pick flowers, and kiss each other until the taste of salt is lost in the taste of them.
They have no regrets.
6. hard candy
Olivia is infected first, but Jake declines faster, coughing blood by the end of the first hour. They stumble to the hospital together, hand-in-hand, but the emergency room is overflowing, and they both know there's no point.
They leave, leaning on each other like they always have, and find the nearest park instead. It's deathly quiet, but for distant cries and sobs, and they sit together under a tree, arms around each other's shoulders.
It's not an easy death. They know that too. At least they're not alone.
She rests her head on his shoulder.
At least they are together.
7. lollipop
Gina brings a friend along to their weekly night out—her college roommate, apparently, a pretty girl with a sweet smile who's always sucking a lollipop. She flirts playfully with everyone, breezes through the night, talks cheerfully and endlessly.
Every once in a while Jake thinks she's watching him, which has to be stupid, because he's the most fucked up person in their little group, so why would she pick him?
Then she pulls him aside at the end of the night, goes on tiptoe and kisses him, full on the mouth.
She tastes like her lollipop, sweet and brittle.
8. gummies
Matthew loves his sister and Olivia loves him, loves the soft weight of him in her arms, loves the way he gums at her skin. He makes her want a baby of her own and she tells Jake so that night, slipping out of her dress and reaching around to undo her bra.
"We can do that," Jake says, and kisses the slope of her shoulder. "I'm due a raise in a month. Want to start trying then?"
She spins around and kisses him full on the mouth, deep and hot. "No," she whispers. "I want to start trying now."
9. pastels
The world outside is blurry, pastel-colored and unreal compared to the vibrancy of the house. Olivia knows the house takes care of her but she also knows it smothers her, and she knows its promises are false. It still frightens her, leaving the house, the only safety she's ever known, even if it's fake.
But Jake is smiling at her, his hand out, and if the rest of the world is pale and unreal he is not. He is bright, his outlines clear, and there's safety of a kind in him, too.
She takes a deep breath, and steps out.
10. non-pareils
Jake sometimes feels unworthy, beside Olivia. She's so beautiful, so graceful. He half-believes she walks on air, and that's not impossible; she is an aura, a wind nymph, and he is nothing more than an ordinary human.
And yet she is just as broken as he is, inside. Some of her wounds can't be healed, just like his. Her smile has a brittle edge, her eyes a tinge of sorrow—just like him. And she cups his face like he's something precious, gives kisses light as the brush of a butterfly.
Sometimes he feels unworthy. And sometimes he feels incomparable.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Jake and Olivia.
Warnings: brief mention of sexual assault, death by virulent disease
AU: Fairy Tales, Poly, Sisters, Wild West, EPIC PIRATE AU, Apocalypse, Sunny, AU George, The House, Urban Fantasy
Notes: Poly AU borrowed from Sara, Geena, and Kelly-- thanks, guys!
1. candy apple
Apples are dangerous. You take a bite of one and fall into death; steal one and meet your true lost love. Olivia picked one up off a plate and met Jake's eyes. He kissed her juice-stained lips and fell into love. She tasted like apples, sweet and crisp, like candy, sugar melting on his tongue.
Apples are dangerous. He picked her out and wouldn't choose another. She saw beyond his skin to the pale flesh beneath, the seeds of bitter under the outer sweet. She loved it all.
Apples are dangerous. Apples are temptation.
Reach out and take a bite.
2. cotton candy
It isn't always easy being monogamous. Jake has the excuse at least of being Christian; Olivia can only shrug and say she's never fallen in love with anyone else. It’s the truth, after all. She met Jake when she was twenty-two and she's been in love with him ever since, without a flicker of feeling for anyone else stronger than friendship.
What does it matter, anyway? She loves Jake. He loves her. Their daughters are loved, as well as they both know how. Her life is like cotton candy—threads of distaste melt in her mouth, and only sweetness remains.
3. gumball
For all Amanda and Lauren Foster could not possibly be more different, they share two loves: gumballs, and Jacob Foster.
They are both skeptical of Olivia at first. Amanda warms up to her fast, but Lauren takes a long time—longer, after they get back together. She can't help it, she has fundamental trust issues. She's like a gumball herself: hard outer shell with a gooey chewy center, and she's so tired of being chewed on.
But Olivia stays, and Jake adores her, and in the end Lauren can't help but give in. After all, fellow gumballs gotta stick together.
4. caramel
There's a stranger in town, a round-faced girl with caramel curls who keeps her eyes down and shies away from conversation. Jake keeps an eye on her because that's his job, and this far west, a lone woman is a target.
His fears are justified when he hears a scream, and he pounds towards the sound—but he might have spared his breath, because by the time he arrives, she's finished the fight.
He stops short, and touches his hat. "Ma'am. Need some help with the rubbish?"
"If you would be so good," she replies.
Her smile illuminates her face.
5. saltwater taffy
They don't go sailing, the pair of them—Jake gets seasick and Olivia fears missing her father. They stay on land in Plymouth. They are most comfortable in the shop on long afternoons, Olivia mending, Jake examining Ivy's latest haul, side by side behind the counter, dust motes dancing in the sunlight.
Sometimes the wind from the south, off the sea, presses salt to the back of their throats. On those days they go up to the meadows, pick flowers, and kiss each other until the taste of salt is lost in the taste of them.
They have no regrets.
6. hard candy
Olivia is infected first, but Jake declines faster, coughing blood by the end of the first hour. They stumble to the hospital together, hand-in-hand, but the emergency room is overflowing, and they both know there's no point.
They leave, leaning on each other like they always have, and find the nearest park instead. It's deathly quiet, but for distant cries and sobs, and they sit together under a tree, arms around each other's shoulders.
It's not an easy death. They know that too. At least they're not alone.
She rests her head on his shoulder.
At least they are together.
7. lollipop
Gina brings a friend along to their weekly night out—her college roommate, apparently, a pretty girl with a sweet smile who's always sucking a lollipop. She flirts playfully with everyone, breezes through the night, talks cheerfully and endlessly.
Every once in a while Jake thinks she's watching him, which has to be stupid, because he's the most fucked up person in their little group, so why would she pick him?
Then she pulls him aside at the end of the night, goes on tiptoe and kisses him, full on the mouth.
She tastes like her lollipop, sweet and brittle.
8. gummies
Matthew loves his sister and Olivia loves him, loves the soft weight of him in her arms, loves the way he gums at her skin. He makes her want a baby of her own and she tells Jake so that night, slipping out of her dress and reaching around to undo her bra.
"We can do that," Jake says, and kisses the slope of her shoulder. "I'm due a raise in a month. Want to start trying then?"
She spins around and kisses him full on the mouth, deep and hot. "No," she whispers. "I want to start trying now."
9. pastels
The world outside is blurry, pastel-colored and unreal compared to the vibrancy of the house. Olivia knows the house takes care of her but she also knows it smothers her, and she knows its promises are false. It still frightens her, leaving the house, the only safety she's ever known, even if it's fake.
But Jake is smiling at her, his hand out, and if the rest of the world is pale and unreal he is not. He is bright, his outlines clear, and there's safety of a kind in him, too.
She takes a deep breath, and steps out.
10. non-pareils
Jake sometimes feels unworthy, beside Olivia. She's so beautiful, so graceful. He half-believes she walks on air, and that's not impossible; she is an aura, a wind nymph, and he is nothing more than an ordinary human.
And yet she is just as broken as he is, inside. Some of her wounds can't be healed, just like his. Her smile has a brittle edge, her eyes a tinge of sorrow—just like him. And she cups his face like he's something precious, gives kisses light as the brush of a butterfly.
Sometimes he feels unworthy. And sometimes he feels incomparable.