Word #80

[crazedturkey.livejournal.com]

I like to refer to myself as "moderator in absentia". *waves hi*

Don't look at the word until you are ready to write.  When your fifteen minutes are up and you have completed your ficlet, you may either post it as a response here, or post a link to the ficlet in your own journal.  If posting on your own journal, please hide the prompt word in some way (ie. under an LJ-cut) in order to avoid spoiling it for others.

Today's word is: coffee

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[violetbluebells.livejournal.com]

Title: Black coffee
Fandom/original: Doctor Horrible's sing-along blog
Characters: Billy Buddy/Doctor horrible, Penny
Rating:T (For once use of language I suppose)
Word count: 366

Sometimes she brought coffee, other days it was hot chocolate. He had learned to associate her moods with the drinks she brought.

If she was happy or pleased with something she brought the hot chocolate, whipped cream if she was celebrating. If she was pissed off, it was coffee.

Today she had coffee and it was black.

They sat is silence for a while both watching the laundry tumble round and round, both lost in their own thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her stir the coffee. It too span round and he felt himself get light headed. Though he didn’t think it was from just the spinning, Penny seemed to have that effect of him.

She suddenly looked up and met his stare a cold pain behind her usual warm eyes.

“Billy…”
He felt his heart stop at his name. The way she spoke it was like music to him and he wished he could listen to it forever.

But he couldn’t so he replied, “Yes?”

His voice was nowhere as near as beautiful as hers and he felt ashamed of even speaking.

“Have you ever liked someone more than they liked you?”

He blinked hard, trying to keep the sweat from his eyes.

Of course he had, He always had, and he always would. He loved her with every being of himself and he knew that she just saw him as a friend. That hurt him.

He couldn’t tell her how he felt, how could he? She was a God compared to him, and Gods and mortals were never meant to be together.

So he just mumbled, “I suppose… well I think I do, I mean well yeah, not that much” He cringed and started at the coffee in his own hands. He hated lying to her, but he knew it was for their own good, well her own good at least. She deserved someone a lot better than him, anyone except him.

He heard here sigh once and he took a sip of his coffee, pretending not to notice the look on her face.

For it looked remarkably like the face he wore every time he spoke to her.

[cassie-was-here.livejournal.com]

Title: Field Research
Fandom/original: original
Characters: n/a
Rating: pg
Word count: 351

I scouted the corner Starbucks not for its overpriced beverages but the local flavor, which in my not-so-humble opinion had a much more satisfying taste. The coffee house was an interesting cross-section of city life as teenagers, hipsters, squares, and working stiffs alike tended to frequent the area, and I enjoyed the endless opportunities for people watching while sipping on a slightly more affordable cup of hot tea.

Normally I brought class work with me to the coffee shop, mindlessly highlighting my human behavior and psychoanalysis textbooks over the din of conversation, cappuccino maker, and soothing strains of folk rock. The real knowledge I sought did not come from these ponderous volumes deemed essential reading by my professors, but rather in my acute observation of all the passersby. I kept a pocket notepad by my side at all times to jot notes about persons of interest, while I smiled to myself behind my paper cup.

Emo Liberal Boy (subject M19) threw me for a loop, however. All guyliner-ed and gawky with a shock of self-consciously tousled hipster cool dyed black hair, I fancied him the narcissistic type. All bleeding heart and deliberate sympathy that never quite struck the chord of empathy, he seemed very much the perpetual victim type. He came in with new girls all the time, ordering a “manlier” variation of his dates’ drinks (no frou-frou carmel or soy or extra whipped cream for him) and crafting a convincing, if overwrought, look of concern while they poured their hearts out to him. He knew what it felt like to be hurt, cheated, betrayed by lovers and politicians alike. His messenger bag was decorated with the all the buttons to prove it – Buck Fush, Go Green, Barack the Vote, All Love is Equal. His bag might as well have been his MySpace.

Then one day he came in sans makeup and skinny jeans and ordered a tall green tea, taking the seat across from me. The look in his eyes was as profound as the AIM emoticons he used so liberally. And I knew mine were signaling :/ :/ :/

Coffee

[blacklitesanity.livejournal.com]

Title: Coffee
Fandom/original: Original
Characters: Alex, unnamed
Rating: G
Word count: 240

“Are you all right?”

Green eyes looked up at her. They were bloodshot and lined with evidence of too little sleep. But the boy they belonged to said nothing.

Alex sighed. “Look,” she said, “whatever it is, just order something, all right?” She spared a look over her shoulder at Mr. Johnson. “I’m supposed to kick you out after five minutes, unless you’ve ordered something and haven’t finished that something yet.”

“Two minutes.”

Alex blinked. “What?”

“You’re supposed to kick me out in two minutes,” the boy said, offering a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze flickered briefly over at the clock that hung on the far wall.

Alex looked at the clock. It was four-sixteen. “You came in at four-thirteen?” she asked and wondered silently who the boy was waiting for. She frowned, looking back at the boy.

He was fifteen, probably seventeen, if he was just naturally so thin that even if he were to grow, his shoulders would still be as tapered and his frame would still be as lithe. But no one so young had that look in their eyes. She saw it, sometimes, in the older men who came by and told their stories of blood and loss in the wars that they’d been too foolish to leave alone, or the ones who simply never said anything.

“You want some coffee?” she asked before she thought about it. “My treat,” she added quickly.

[mage-charlatan.livejournal.com]

Title: Inheritances
Fandom/original: Original
Characters: Joey, Rose, Mark
Rating: G
Word count: about 500

They all sat around the low table in the living room, drinking coffee out of the earth colored mugs their mother had made in her ceramics class the past summer. The efforts of her many new pasttimes were well-documented throughout the room. Needlepoints were draped over the arms of the sofa, and the afghan she had crocheted was hung over the back of the easy chair. There were many other ceramic sculptures and vessels on the various end tables, and her watercolor landscapes and still lifes hung on the walls in mismatched frames from the flea market she had taken to visitng, looking for things to inspire and aid her in her crafts.

They hadn't seen each other in almost a year, and it was the first time that such a distance stretched between them. The air seemed to have changed, and the house had lost its old, comforting smell. Joey never imagined that they wouldn't have anything to talk about, but they sat in silence as they drank their coffee. It was instant, and the taste didn't sit well with any of them, though they didn't talk about it. Their father had always made the coffee in the house with his little electronic coffee grinder. Their mugs remained nearly full.

The indefinable heaviness that surrounded them made Joey feel like bolting from the liviing room and running up to his bedroom, like he always had when anyone in the house would yell or fight. But this was no fight, just a strained silence. He didn't know what to think of his brother and his sister, who had seemed to stay exactly the same for so long and then changed so they were almost unrecognizable in just a year. He looked over at his sister, Rose, who held the mug in her thin hands. Her wedding band seemed too large, hanging at an odd angle on her finger. She had changed her hair, and her facial expressions seemed much tighter. When they first arrived back home she had hugged him, but it felt like she was barely touching him.

His brother, Mark, sat hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. It was odd for Joey to see him in jeans and a sweatshirt again, because for the past year the only place he had seen him was in real estate ads on the sides of buses and billboards. Always the same suit jacket and tie, always the same polite smile. It didn't seem like his brother at all. His brother the football fanatic, who jumped up and down and shouted and tore out his hair whenever he watched a game. His brother who made chocolate chip pancakes for his kids every Saturday morning and spent the whole breakfast with them imitating the voices from Sesame street. His brother who used to come over to his house on weekends and have James Bond movie marathons, and who knew all of the dialogue. Now he had lines around his eyes and wasn't smiling at all, not even that polite realtor's smile. Joey hadn't seen him smile the entire time they had been there.

[hakumei-kouu.livejournal.com]

Title: Mocha
Fandom/original: Original
Characters: Chase Morton, Kris Everwood
Rating: G
Word count: 649

He never, ever liked to drink coffee. Ever.

It wasn't the taste; not the nutty smell. Chase was a dork: apparently, caffeine was a drug. Drugs were a big 'no-no' on his list. So, he never turned on the coffee pot in the morning to make coffee for his mom or his sister. He didn't know what a 'Starbucks' was. When people asked if he wanted to join them at the local cafe, he declined with a simple 'I'm busy'.

So, when his best friend wore a distressed look on her face on the way to class and said she needed some coffee so bad, what happens?

She was skipping class, sneaking off to a particular cafe to get a warm, cozy cup of coffee. Being the horribly overprotective person that he was, Chase didn't refuse coming with. He didn't care for coffee; think of all of the health problems! But he wasn't letting anything happen to his dear friend.

Five minutes before the lunch bell rang, each in their own class, they both raised their hands and lied. Got a hall pass and skipped right out of the door. They met in the hallway. Chase was bundled in a scarf and a jacket; he shoved another scarf over to Kris, demanding that she wear it or else she was going to catch a cold. They escaped from the horrid halls of Parker High and stepped into the streets, heading through Manhattan on the way to home.

It was always a rule that Kris had to drag Chase. She always held onto his hand and always walked in front, acting like they should be singing 'following the leader!' childishly down the sidewalk. She stepped fast and lead him into a dark yet very cozy and comfortable cafe.

Chase saw big, plush chairs and tables off to the side. Earthy shades of brown and green with people wearing aprons behind the counter. Kris relinquished Chase's hand and stepped forwards.

"You want anything?"

Chase was weary when she said that. He shoved in hands in his pocket and scoff his foot, his teal eyes staring at the ceiling.

"No..."

Kris gave a scoff. "It's not that bad for you."

The boy's face turned bright red. "O-Of course it is."

"Whatever." Kris swirled around, her messy brunette hair bouncing as she turned. "One small peppermint latte and a small mocha, please."

Chase raised a brow. He looked even more quizzical when she shoved a small, cardboard cup of coffee into his grasp a few moments later.

"Drink it." she commanded in between sips.

Chase gave a scoff, "Kris..."

"Drink. It."

He stared wearily down at the cup.

His shoulders fell, relaxing. Well... it couldn't be that bad...

He tilted his head back and took a sip. A moment later, he licked the chocolate off of his lips and smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"...I like chocolate." He grinned.

Kris gave a nod, smiling herself. She grabbed his hand again and pushed through the door out into Manhattan.

The funny thing was that Chase found a news article describing that coffee was actually good for you the next day.

[suckmyspock.livejournal.com]

Title: Offending The Zombie Race
Fandom/original: Original
Characters: Annie, Ichabod
Rating: PG
Word count: 672

She never had to worry about that at her old school... (http://community.livejournal.com/acidoriginals/484.html)