WIP MEME

May. 19th, 2010 02:43 am
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[personal profile] blood_crow
This meme looked so fun! I just had to do it XD Stolen lovingly from [livejournal.com profile] foxflare ♥

Post a sentence (or two a few) from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.


o1. Shuuhei watched from his seated position at his desk, hand poised over the paperwork that he should be filling out. It was hard to concentrate on such a task, however, when the red-haired fukutaicho of the 6th was bobbing across the floor, clutching a small, real world electronic device in his hand. The thing was playing some English song in a style that Shuuhei had never heard, but for which Abarai seemed to be intimately acquainted with, however strange that was.

And the tattooed shinigami's attention was currently trained on the cranky looking Sexta who occupied the desk opposite Shuuhei's. Waraji adorned feet propped on the messy, ink-stained surface, arms crossed over a scarred chest, and icy blue eyes attempting to glare a hole through the redhead like the burn of frostbite. A redhead who -- naturally -- was unfazed, grinning wolfishly as he sang along and jerked his hips in time with the beat.

"Can I get a little yum yum?"

Abarai's accompanying vocals here, muttered in a husky voice that was close to Grimmjow's ear: "Kitty kitty?"

A resounding snarl...

"Jus' a little som'n som'n?"

The tattooed lieutenant pinching his thumb and forefinger together in front of the Sexta's eyes: "Itty bitty?"

"Do you wanna get triple-x GROOVAY?"

And this time, practically shouted: "GIMME GIMME SOME O' THAT KINDA MOOVAY!"

Finally, the scrape of Grimmjow's chair against the floor, the sound of his thunderous growl as he grabbed Abarai by the collar of his uniform -- and the redhead's throaty laugh, followed by the unabashed groping of the Sexta's crotch.


o2. "You're staring"

"I'm staring at the shit on your face."

"...Care to be a little more specific?"

"Which one do you think?"

"You're curious about the scars? Well, six years into--"

"Don't be a smartass, kid. We all have scars, it comes with the territory. I couldn't give a fuck about those."


o3. The silver-haired man looked down at his soaked shirt with burgeoning annoyance, then back at the perpetrator. The waiter had set his tray of drinks down on a nearby table as he unwound a towel from around his neck, mumbling to himself under his breath. Behind him scantily clad girls swung around on a black stage, their raunchy movements illuminated by colorful lights that burned neon bright in an otherwise dark, stuffy night club. 

But in that moment Kensei was more interested in the man standing in front of them, than the girls he'd come to see in the first place.

"Shit man, I'm really sorry," the other told him, bending down to pat Kensei's shirt, drenched with the contents of a drink that he'd carelessly spilled when another customer had bumped into him. "How much did the thing cost? Been busting my ass -- how many guys do you see working in a strip club, anyway? -- but I guess having to fork over some of my hard-earned cash is the price I pay for being clumsy, ne?"

He smirked candidly, humored, aquamarine eyes lifting to lock with unamused amber. Kensei arched one slim, pierced brow, and stayed silent as he eyed the waiter unhurriedly. The man looked tall and lean dressed completely in black, and he had to wonder if the slimming color was hiding a more muscular body than it suggested. 

Leaning back in his seat lazily, he let his long legs fan to get more comfortable, before offering a half-assed smirk of his own.

"Or... I could buy you dinner? Even though you don't look like you've been short of a meal in a long ass time..."

The sentence trailed as the waiter looked Kensei over, and after a moment he was grinning anew while cocking a challenging eyebrow. 

"How about it, big guy?"


o4. "Coyote's a cock tease, simple as that."

Renji couldn't be sure of what came over him, but one moment the seven of them were enjoying a round of sake, and the next he was dragging the horned shinigami over the table by the fabric of his white lab coat. A growl was on his tongue alongside a nasty retort (and a fist raring to go), but Akon just smirked at him and chuckled indifferently.

"Looks like he might be teasing you the worst, Abarai. Is it panting down there? Panting like a dog with a bone dangling above its head, just out of reach?"


o5. Kensei's large hands covered a second pair as he leaned over the man beneath him, his commanding hips thrusting savagely in their need (but with a sure purpose). The noble's groan was guttural as he pressed back shamelessly, and the silver-haired taicho nudged the long hairs of Kaien's nape out of the way with his nose. He inhaled deeply of the flesh hidden there, then pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to salty-sweet skin.

    
o6. He looked out -- over a rolling expanse of choppy, temperamental water, up spiraling towers of red rock that sprouted from the ocean below -- to a sky that thundered with black clouds. They gathered above the pillars, swirling in a volatile vortex above the highest peak. And perched at the very tip of that topmost spire was a man, his dark hair and clothing blowing around him furiously with the mounting winds.

A crack of lightning split the sky, and the spirit let forth a pitched caw, crying out like a bird of prey on the hunt. He disappeared a second later, and the threatening clouds above protracted like a plunging tornado; an inverted spire from the heavens that extended towards Kazeshini.

And then the man was directly in front of him, staring at him with large, slanted eyes. Their irises were of such an incredibly pale gray that they appeared almost white, and the penetrating black of their pupils were so big as to suggest that they were dilated... Feathers streaked his raven hair, some of them solid black and others spotted gray and white. Endless, ivory tattoos sparked across every inch of bronzed skin that Kazeshini could see between ropes and ropes of dark fabric.

A gust of wind thrust up around them, both whistling and screaming in violent agony. It gripped him like a pair of icy, iron talons, damn near crushing him with a force as domineering as the other spirit's raspy voice.

"Kazeshini."


o7. Renji stared in disbelief -- his mouth agape -- at the object in his hand. A real world baseball bat that was painted a sleek red, and over it was the black outline of a snake with a baboon's head. The roiling, white coils curled around the handle like an anaconda would its prey, while the baboon's long snout touched the bat's blunt tip, its mouth open to reveal two rows of razor sharp teeth. The redhead thrust the bat in front of him, and was instantly reminded of the way it looked when he aimed Zabimaru at an opponent.

He looked at Starrk with wide eyes, the Primera having stretched out on his side and propped himself on his elbow. His face was scrunched as he cradled his jaw in a gloved hand, and when he saw the look of astonishment on his redhead's face he smiled with sluggish sincerity. 

"Does that mean you like it?"


o8. Byakuya sat on the edge of a large bed, and Starrk positioned himself behind the other man, slipping his slender but toned legs around slim hips. He pressed his forehead against Byakuya's shoulder, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of cars from the street below their sixtieth floor.

I get depressed in fancy hotel rooms
Undressed...
With nothing to flaunt but my loneliness
Thinking of the night song of your hair
Premature as evening falls, it calls to me...

The words sang themselves in his mind, and his mouth moved soundlessly in time to a languid beat that only he heard. He imagined a long mane of flaming red, and wonder if Byakuya was envisioning the same as he inched his hands over the other man's chest. He paused to undo the small buttons of a pressed, silken shirt, then eased the material over Byakuya's shoulders. The man's alabaster skin looked all the paler against his raven-black hair, and Starrk set his teeth to it in a lazy nip. His business partner made a soft sound, like an acknowledging hum deep in his throat. Starrk opened his eyes slowly and tipped his head sideways, glancing up to meet a pewter gaze. Byakuya stared down at him beneath lowered lids, looking as if the thickness of his dark lashes weighed on them heavily.

Reaching up, he pressed a pale thumb to Starrk's lips. The brunette opened his mouth faintly, knowing the routine, and watched as slate-gray eyes fixed themselves on his teeth. His tongue pressed forward slowly to taste the brackish pad of Byakuya's fingertip as it traced the sharp edge of his canine.

"Are you gonna do this every time?" he murmured, with idle curiosity. The other man's mouth moved faintly, as if to form a smile but stopping short of actually doing so. He turned his head slightly and glanced at the window, moonlight from a gap in the curtain illuminating his eyes so they flashed silver.

"I find their appearance to be aesthetically pleasing," he said simply, in a low, monotonous voice.

"You just like the way they bite."

Byakuya chuckled, then... softly, like the dreamy beat of a butterfly's wings. He looked at Starrk out of the corner of his eye, and the brunette smirked before biting the other man's shoulder blade, grasping soft skin with his teeth and groaning weakly.


o9. Kensei stepped up behind the unsuspecting (doubtful, actually, but it was fun to think so anyway), noble, bending his head slightly to speak close to the younger man's ear.

"Shiba."

Kaien paused, and the silver-haired shinigami knew the beginnings of a grin, even if he couldn't be witness to it visually from his position.

"Dammit, Muguruma, you're a real tease. You know I like it when you talk dirty, and can't you see that I'm busy trying to avoid Ukitake Jushiro?"

Grunting -- the closest he came to laughing, most times -- Kensei punched the dark-haired shinigami in the ribs, then kissed the tender spot between Kaien's ear and jaw.


1o. "I don't know," he drawled disinterestedly. Heaving a silent exhale, he stared down at his hand and splayed broad fingers so he could wrap gray bindings around his knuckles. "Ugly, it kind of suits you."

Glancing up, he offered Hisagi a faint smirk, only to realize that the kid wasn't looking at him like he'd assumed. Instead the scarred shinigami was staring at his hand, dark eyes wide and unblinking as they watched the languid under and over of habitual bandaging. Kensei let his own amber gaze drift, caught a glimpse of the shinigami's hands, balled into fists at his sides. All the blood had drained from his clenched, stark white fingers, only to reemerge as an angry trickle from a pierced palm. 

The Vizard's eyes darted back up. He was met with a look so loathsome, so vicious, so wild... so wrong on what he'd come to know as a normally calm, controlled face, that it gave him pause.

When Hisagi spoke, his voice was rigid and rancorous.

"Fuck. you."





Wow, I had more than I thought, haha! The songs featured in o1. and o8. are
'Fever for the Flava' by Hot Action Cop, and 'Smokey Taboo' by CocoRosie :) 

I also did a couple of icons the other day out of boredom, and I figure I might as well post 'em while I'm at it. They're of Yoruichi because I had her on the brain! What with writing a fic with her in it, and all...  XD 

yoruichi1 yoruichi2 yoruichi3 yoruichi4


♥ Credit is very much appreciated, and hotlinking is abhorred.

 

Edit: An added quiz I ganked from [livejournal.com profile] 2metaldog
Your rainbow is intensely shaded violet, black, and gray.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

What is says about you: You are an elegant person. You appreciate mystery. You may meet people who are afraid of you. You are patient and will keep trying to understand something until you've mastered it.

Find the colors of your rainbow at spacefem.com.

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