Grr...Arrgh.
11/20/10 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ozmissageI’m putting off my Sammy meta until later because when I started typing it I kept swinging from keyboard smash rage to weepy, “OMG, the writers hate me!” outbursts and I realized those things were not proportionate responses. My emotions are all wonky today, I got sniffly reading an article about Private Practice this morning and I don’t even watch that show.
Anyway, I’m taking a break from crossover fic writing/meta attempts to go watch TVD and forage for food. So hungry. I swear I feel like The Hulk today.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ozmissage smash! Umm…yeah. I have a meme:
The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. (You don’t have to do that last thing unless you want to. I hate bossy memes.)
*All of my fandoms are fair game, including TVD.
1.we’ll sleep when we’re dead, PG, Charlotte & Juliet, Lost
2.stars, R, Jack/Claire, Lost
3.trousers are overrated, PG-13, George/Mitchell, Being Human
4.routine, R, Bonnie/Stefan, TVD
5.don’t ask, don’t tell, R, Alaric/Juliet, TVD/Lost
6.the hazards of office boredom, PG, Cordy & Wes, ATS
7.breakfast of champions, PG, Jack/Sawyer, Lost
8.the joy of cooking, PG, Left Behinders, Lost
9.l' esprit de escalier, PG, Jack, Lost
10. backseat, PG, George/Mitchell, Being Human
Anyway, I’m taking a break from crossover fic writing/meta attempts to go watch TVD and forage for food. So hungry. I swear I feel like The Hulk today.
ozmissage smash! Umm…yeah. I have a meme:The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. (You don’t have to do that last thing unless you want to. I hate bossy memes.)
*All of my fandoms are fair game, including TVD.
1.we’ll sleep when we’re dead, PG, Charlotte & Juliet, Lost
2.stars, R, Jack/Claire, Lost
3.trousers are overrated, PG-13, George/Mitchell, Being Human
4.routine, R, Bonnie/Stefan, TVD
5.don’t ask, don’t tell, R, Alaric/Juliet, TVD/Lost
6.the hazards of office boredom, PG, Cordy & Wes, ATS
7.breakfast of champions, PG, Jack/Sawyer, Lost
8.the joy of cooking, PG, Left Behinders, Lost
9.l' esprit de escalier, PG, Jack, Lost
10. backseat, PG, George/Mitchell, Being Human
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 11/20/10 08:40 pm (UTC)LOST, Juliet and Charlotte friendship in Dharmaville (AU)
we'll sleep when we're dead, PG
Date: 11/21/10 03:40 am (UTC)It’s long past midnight and the boys—their boys, are all asleep upstairs.
“We should really get to bed soon,” Juliet whispers.
“Nah. We’ll just go in late. What are they going to do, fire us?”
Juliet arches an eyebrow.
“They might.”
“Fine by me, I’m sick of smelling like motor oil anyway.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Juliet says.
They clink their glasses and each take a long sip.
“One more game of Scrabble?” Charlotte asks hopefully.
Juliet smiles.
“Absolutely.”
Re: we'll sleep when we're dead, PG
Date: 11/21/10 06:24 pm (UTC)Re: we'll sleep when we're dead, PG
From:Re: we'll sleep when we're dead, PG
Date: 11/21/10 06:40 pm (UTC)“Fine by me, I’m sick of smelling like motor oil anyway.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Juliet says.
hee :D thank you dear!
Re: we'll sleep when we're dead, PG
From:no subject
Date: 11/20/10 08:45 pm (UTC)Claire/Jack, anything
stars, R
Date: 11/21/10 03:51 am (UTC)Doctor’s hands, she thinks, giggling to herself. Jack pauses, resting his head on the soft skin of her stomach so he can look up at her.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
“Whatever you think is best, Doctor,” she teases.
Jack flashes her a wicked grin before dipping his head lower. Claire gasps, closes her eyes until Jack brings the stars to her.
Re: stars, R
Date: 11/21/10 05:18 am (UTC)Re: stars, R
From:no subject
Date: 11/20/10 09:27 pm (UTC)trousers are overrated, PG-13
Date: 11/21/10 04:03 am (UTC)George crosses his arms defensively.
“I happen to think they look nice.”
“They look ridiculous.”
“You wear them,” George says petulantly.
“Well, I’m me and you’re…George.”
George sinks to the couch sulkily and begins flipping through channels on the telly.
“Fine. I’m not going out then. Me and my ridiculous jeans will stay in and watch chat shows. Alone.”
Mitchell straddles George without warning and works George’s zipper down before he can muster one word of protest.
“That’s a stupid idea. Let’s get you out of these things.”
“And then what?” George asks.
Mitchell grins so wickedly the tips of George’s ears go red.
“You’re right,” George says. “I should take these off
immediately.”
Mitchell is more than happy to help.
Re: trousers are overrated, PG-13
Date: 11/21/10 11:19 am (UTC)Re: trousers are overrated, PG-13
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Date: 11/23/10 05:49 am (UTC)Re: trousers are overrated, PG-13
From:no subject
Date: 11/20/10 10:04 pm (UTC)routine, R
Date: 11/21/10 04:13 am (UTC)This has happened before, it will happen again.
She digs her nails into his shoulder until she sees blood pooling in the half moons she leaves behind and she laps at his wounds, relishing the taste of him on her lips as she knows he’s relishing the taste of her on his.
It’s wrong. So very wrong. But she doesn’t want to stop. Not ever.
He pulls away with a groan.
“You hum,” he murmurs.
Bonnie giggles, turns away embarrassed.
“Whatever.”
“It’s true. I can feel it, it’s…God, it’s good.”
She kisses him and realizes the copper taste of their blood mingling on her tongue no longer makes her stomach turn.
Re: routine, R
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From:no subject
Date: 11/20/10 10:16 pm (UTC)don't ask, don't tell, R
Date: 11/21/10 04:24 am (UTC)***
She finds the stakes in his sock drawer, the knives hidden under his bed, the picture folded and creased in a dusty copy of Dracula. She doesn’t tell him.
He comes home and she leads him to their bed, fucks him until he’s gasping her name. She presses her lips to his temple as he comes, a silent blessing.
“You’re amazing,” he marvels in the darkness.
Juliet smiles softly.
“You too,” she whispers back.
{He finds the gun in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet, the mark raised and angry on her back, the ring she never wears. He doesn’t ask why.}
“Night,” he says wrapping his arms around her.
Juliet settles against his chest.
“Night,” she echoes back.
Re: don't ask, don't tell, R
From:Re: don't ask, don't tell, R
From:no subject
Date: 11/21/10 12:29 am (UTC)Wes and Cordy: "This means war."
the hazards of office boredom, PG
Date: 11/21/10 04:50 am (UTC)Cordy continues dusting innocently, but she can’t stop the corners of her mouth from twitching upwards.
“Ah-hah!” Wes says with bonus finger raising. Cordy’s pretty sure he thinks he’s Sherlock Holmes.
“No ah-hah. Which, by the way, totally not a phrase used by real people. I’m smiling because that’s what you do to keep crazy people from killing you in your sleep.”
“You hid my book! I need my book, Cordelia.”
She did hide his book. And his mug. But in her defense they haven’t had a case all week and she’s been super bored.
“Maybe you misplaced it,” she says sweetly.
“ANGEL!” Wes bellows.
“God, you’re such a baby,” Cordy mutters as she shuffles off to retrieve his musty, old book.
She’s halfway there when she hears---
“Why is my mug in the shredder?”
Cordy giggles. A girl has to make her own fun.
Re: the hazards of office boredom, PG
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From:no subject
Date: 11/21/10 03:21 am (UTC)Lost, Jack/Sawyer, AU, living together in Dharmavile
breakfast of champions, PG
Date: 11/21/10 05:01 am (UTC)***
Sawyer hates the night shift. He trudges home just as the sun is coming up, his bones aching, eyelids heavy. The smell of scrambled eggs and burnt toast greets him at the door. The doc always was a morning person.
He makes his way to the kitchen to find a boxer clad Jack waiting with two plates and a cup of OJ.
“Damn, you’re a good wife,” Sawyer says.
“I will eat all of this food if you don’t shut up.”
Sawyer takes his plate. He’s too hungry to banter right now.
He sips his OJ and grimaces.
“No coffee?”
“Not for you, you need to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sawyer mumbles around a mouthful of eggs.
Jack snatches the least-black piece of toast off of Sawyer’s plate and takes a big bite.
“Hey!” Sawyer protests.
Jack laughs.
“I warned you.”
Re: breakfast of champions, PG
From:Re: breakfast of champions, PG
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From:no subject
Date: 11/21/10 04:15 am (UTC)How about Lost, Left Behinders, family dinner.
the joy of cooking, PG
Date: 11/21/10 04:01 pm (UTC)“Just keep your trap shut, Enos,” James growls back.
Miles shoots a pained look towards the kitchen, before turning to Jin for support.
“Back me up, buddy. We should just go to the cafeteria, right?”
“Back…up?” Jin asks, clearly confused.
“Miles?” Juliet asks from her seat beside Jim.
“Yeah?”
“Be quiet.”
Miles opens his mouth to say something else, but a sharp kick from James makes him think better of it.
“You really think Mr. Wizard can pull this off?” James asks quietly.
Juliet shrugs.
“He wanted to do something nice for everyone. Let him have this.”
A small puff of smoke wafts through the dining room door and Miles groans.
“Just so you know, if we all get food poisoning, I’m holding you responsible,” Miles mutters.
Juliet hides a smile behind her wine glass.
Re: the joy of cooking, PG
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From:no subject
Date: 11/22/10 03:50 am (UTC)OOOOOOH looks like you still have some drabble-age open!
Anything with Jack in the final moments of the show - either his thoughts in canon or go totally AU where Sawyer manages to get him on the plane so they can go off and be domestic together back in the real world (!!!!!!!!!!!! lol) or Vincent brings Hurley to Jack or something.
I DON'T KNOW. Basically anything you want with Jack at the end of the series LOL
l' esprit de escalier, PG
Date: 11/22/10 04:35 am (UTC)Children. A home. Kate.
But the images blur around the edges, fade and wither in front of his eyes. These are the things he was supposed to want, the things he was supposed to need but could never hold onto.
He turns his eyes to the sky and he sees it---the plane.
Kate. Sawyer. Claire.
They’ll go home; they’ll live the life he never could. He sees the picture in his mind, all of them happy, all of them safe.
Because of him.
This is all he ever wanted.
He smiles one last time, then he closes his eyes.
Re: l' esprit de escalier, PG
From:Re: l' esprit de escalier, PG
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From:no subject
Date: 11/23/10 05:35 am (UTC)BRB reading all of your other drabbles.
backseat, PG
Date: 11/23/10 04:22 pm (UTC)***
In the beginning when they were in between places, the car was their home. It took George a long time to get used to the musty scent of it, to the embarrassing squelching sound the seats made every time he moved an inch, to the fact that the man behind the wheel was a vampire, but he did get used to it. Eventually. This is how:
They didn’t have much money and they couldn’t stop long enough to make more, not yet, Mitchell insisted as if he could feel the vampires out there searching for them. So they kept moving. At night Mitchell would sprawl across the front seat and George would lie face down in the back and they would talk. The seat between them acted as a confessional, they told each other stories and lies and pointless anecdotes until one or both of them drifted off to sleep.
The night before their first full moon together, the air was so cold their breath seemed to freeze on contact. It wasn’t so bad for Mitchell. He wasn’t fond of the cold, but it’s not like it could kill him. But George---
“You alright, back there?” Mitchell whispered.
George was shaking. The combination of the cold and the feeling of the transformation on the horizon were wreaking havoc on his body. He felt numb and panicked all at once; still he managed to mutter an “I’m fine” through chattering teeth.
Mitchell hauled himself over the back seat and landed not at all gracefully in a heap on the floorboard.
“What are you doing?” George asked bewildered.
“Budge up,” Mitchell said. “I don’t want to wake up to find you frozen to the seat in the morning.”
“Mitchell,” George hissed. “We’re not…cuddling.”
“Tonight, we are.”
George wanted to protest more, but the truth was he needed the company. The cold and the worry---it was all too much.
Everything was too much, really. Reluctantly, he turned to his side, giving Mitchell a tiny space to stretch out on.
It was awkward at first. George didn’t know what to do with his hands and Mitchell’s face was incredibly close to his, closer than it had ever been before, but then Mitchell wrapped an arm around George’s waist and everything else seemed to fall into place.
“Better?” Mitchell asked.
George nodded. He was still shaking, but his teeth had stopped chattering.
“There’s a full moon tomorrow,” George said. “I’m going to need to find a place…to change.”
“We’ll worry about that tomorrow,” Mitchell replied.
“It’s hard to sleep the night before.”
“Because you’re panicking.”
“What? I’m not panicking. Why do you think I’m panicking?”
Mitchell laughed softly.
“I can feel your heart beating, George.”
George grimaced in the darkness.
“Can you not say things like that when your face is this close to my neck?”
“Shh…” Mitchell said. “Go to sleep, George.”
“I just told you I can’t.”
Mitchell pulled him in closer and to his surprise George felt his heartbeat begin to slow.
“You can.”
And he did.
It became their ritual after that, even after they found a place to live and they were no longer faced with the threat of hypothermia. On the night before the full moon, Mitchell will slip into George’s room and crawl into the bed beside him and talk nonsense to him until George falls asleep, but sometimes, on the really bad nights when that’s not enough, they slip out to the car and curl together on the old, rickety backseat that reminds them both of home.
Re: backseat, PG
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