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Archive for the tag “repost”

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Plans Change

Sam’s Christmas plans change unexpectedly. But that can be a good thing. A Christmas fic.
This story is being reposted from 2010 as part of this endeavor. It’s one of the very first stories I ever wrote which means the spelling, grammar, and punctuation were horrible. It’s been edited for the above and for clarity. See the original here.
4955 words | [PG]


Plans change. Sam knew the statistical probability of never having plans change was… really high. She didn’t much feel like doing the math at the moment, though. She just knew from personal experience that her chances were higher than most.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her ticket to California, a half-packed duffel at her feet. “Figures. My first Christmas off in forever.” She fell back with a sigh.

It really didn’t surprise her much when her dad contacted the SGC to say he wouldn’t be coming. It’s not like the Tok’ra celebrated Earth holidays, and there were more important things going on than Christmas dinner. Sam could accept that her dad was now some alien-hybrid superhero off making the galaxy safer for everyone. Really, she understood why her father stood her up… again. But she didn’t relish having to explain it to her brother. Without actually explaining everything.

But that ended up not being a problem. She had been halfway through packing her bag when the phone rang.

“Carter.”

“Wow, is that really how you answer your phone?”

A smile spread across her face at the sound of her brother’s voice. “Hey, Mark. I’m almost packed, and my flight leaves at 1300 hours. That’s one this afternoon-”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “that’s what I was calling about.” Read more…

[REPOST] Firefly fic: Cap’n Scrooge

This story is being reposted from 2008 as part of this endeavor. It’s one of the very first stories I ever wrote which means the spelling, grammar, and punctuation were horrible. It’s been lightly edited for the above and for clarity. See the original here.

header_capnscrooge

Christmas on board Serenity.
200 words | [G]


Despite Mal’s insistent protests that Serenity wasn’t a democracy, the crew voted six to two in favor of celebrating Christmas. Jayne was Mal’s lone support— grumbling something about wasting money on people he barely liked before skulking off to his room.

Two days later, as Kaylee and Shepard Book tried their best to decorate the common room with some twinkly lights and gaudy baubles they picked up at port the day before, Jayne strode in with several horribly wrapped packages and dumped them on the floor at the foot of the tiny flocked tree.

“Maybe I like y’all a bit,” he said with a smirk.

“Hmph,” Mal scoffed from the corner.

“Don’t be such a Scrooge, Cap’n,” Kaylee said.

That night, Mal slipped into the common room as quietly as he could. Carefully, he laid out eight small boxes covered in brown paper and tied with twine. He arranged them neatly with the other gifts around the little tree then leaned back on his heels with a sigh.

Suddenly, the lights came on. “Ha,” Kaylee hollered, “we caught you Cap’n.”

Mal’s face flushed. “We’ll y’all are family,” he mumbled.

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” whispered Kaylee as she hugged him.

[REPOST] Angel fic: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

This story is being reposted from 2014 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

ang_christmasIt’s the first Christmas for Angel Investigations, but Angel isn’t really in the mood. Too bad Cordelia has other plans. Set in season one sometimes after Doyle died.
1550 words | [PG]


“What’s all this?” Angel asked, pushing aside the cage door of the elevator.

Cordelia balanced on a chair, a string of brightly colored lights in her hand. She smiled down at him. “It’s Christmas, silly.”

“Yeah, but what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

Angel crossed his arms. “It looks like you’re decorating my office with Christmas lights.”

“Ding, ding. Ten points for the vampire with the grasp of the obvious.”

Wesley came in before Angel could retort, lights twisted around both arms and his neck. He held out the strand, apparently looking for the ends. “I think these things came straight from Hell to torment me. Who put these away last year?”

They both glanced at Angel. “I don’t do Christmas. Take them down.” Read more…

[REPOST] The 100 fic: Us Against Everything

This story is being reposted from 2017 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it’s a story about being cold and fits with my theme for December, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

usagainsteverything

[Bellamy/Clarke]
Canon divergent. With a brutal winter ahead, Bellamy realizes there might be more than friendship growing between him and Clarke.

1536 words | [PG]


Bellamy gets back to camp late. It’s hard to tell the exact time with it getting dark so early, but he figures it must be after nine. The sun went down long ago, and it’s abysmally cold. He blows into his hands, trying to warm his numb fingers. Two fires are burning, but the space around them is empty of their usual laughing kids.

Sterling and two of the other guys he’s with make a beeline for the fire, practically holding their hands in the flames. The other three high-tail it into the dropship. Raven and Monty are still working to get the heat going, but eighty-something bodies crammed into a tin can keeps them warm enough for now. It’s better than being outside anyway.

It’d taken all day, but they’d finally buried the three they lost last night—Edith, Jerome, and Bennett. Edith was only fourteen and down here for talking back to a teacher. He shakes his head. He still can’t believe what they did to these kids. Sure, some of them were hardened criminals. There were killers and rapists among them, but most of the kids were arrested for petty stuff—shoplifting, fistfights, hoarding. It’s almost as if they knew they needed the bodies to fill the dropship so they arrested the kids for anything. Bastards.

His body aches, but he still goes down the line, checking the tents to make sure everyone has moved inside. As he nears the dropship, he hears something in the darkness. His hand drops instinctively to the hatchet at his waist. He approaches slowly. Someone gasps then goes quiet. Crying. He finds Clarke leaning against the dropship, wiping away the tears with her fingertips as if trying to erase the evidence. He’s not sure what he thinks about that.

[continue reading]

[REPOST] The 100 fic: Always & Forever

This story is being reposted from 2017 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it’s a story about being cold and fits with my theme for December, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

always

Just a little snapshot of a cold night on the Ark for young Bellamy and Octavia.
680 words | [G]


Bellamy was half asleep when a small hand rocked his shoulder.

“Bell?” Octavia said softly.

“Hmm?” He didn’t bother to open his eyes.

She didn’t say anything.

He counted to ten in his head. He had a test in the morning in physics, and he needed a good grade or he’d be stuck cleaning toilets the rest of his life. “What do you want, Octavia?” he mumbled.

“I’m cold.”

“So?”

She made an exaggerated shiver. He popped one eye open to look at his ten-year-old sister. She wore only her nightgown which was just one of his extra shirts that was way too big on her. Captain Wigglebottom, her stuffed bunny, was tucked tight to her chest. She shifted from foot to foot as if to prove how cold the ground was.

“Bellamy-”

He propped himself up on his arm. “What?”

“It’s cold in here.”

“It is. You should put on some warmer clothes.”

She crossed her arms, pouting. “I only have one outfit and Mom is washing it.”

[continue reading]

[REPOST] Buffy fic: All I Want for Christmas is You

This story is being reposted from 2014 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

bvs_alliwant

Set in season six. Buffy’s back from the dead and still having a hard time dealing with life; Christmas is almost more than she can handle. While her friends take a break from the chaos that is their lives, Buffy sneaks out, only to find Spike doing his stalker routine. But things aren’t always as bad as they seem, and neither is Spike.
1315 words | [PG]


The door clicked softly behind Buffy. She pulled her sweater tighter around her as she sat on the back steps, her breath hanging in the cool December air. From inside, she could hear her friends singing carols, buzzed on too much spiked eggnog. She leaned her head into her hands; everything was so hard.

After a moment, she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “What do you want, Spike?”

Spike chuckled. “You always seem to know where I am, love.”

“I could smell the smoke.”

“Oh.” He looked at his cigarette then dropped it, squashing it with his foot.

“Spike, I’m really not in the mood.”

“Not up with the holiday cheer then?”

“Go home.” Buffy ran her hands through her hair.

Spike came over to the porch. “No.”

“Spike, please-”

“No.” He sat down next to her. “You need some cheerin’ up.” Read more…

Reposting Old Stories

repostEvery time I reread old stories, I either get this chill thinking, “wow, I wrote that!” or I get this chill thinking, “ugh, I wrote that.” It entirely depends on the quality of the writing, and the older the story the more ugh than wow I find.

Since I haven’t been writing anything new, I’ve decided to go back and revise my older stories and repost them and maybe finish up a few WIPs I have going as well.

To help me stay focused, I’ll be using themes to do this, and this month’s theme is Winter.

So for December, I’ll be reposting old stories that take place in winter, revolve around winter holidays or feature being cold. These stories will be titled with [REPOST] so you know it’s something you’ve seen before, and the editing will be mostly light (spelling, punctuation, grammar, and clarity).

Links from the fandom lists at the top of the site will go to the reposted versions (which will link to the originals).

And here’s a handy list of stories reposted in December:

Six Sentences on Sunday

sixsentences~~ Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project —published, in progress, for your cat — whatever. ~~

A blast from the past… six (plus) sentences from an old Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic. Merry Christmas.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she said, her voice cracking a little.

“Wasn’t expectin’ anything in return, pet. Isn’t that what Christmas is about? Giving, not receiving?”

Buffy met his gaze, his face a little blurry behind the tears. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

Spike cracked a smile. “Thank you’s the preferred expression in these kinda situations.”

Flashback Friday Fic: Rainbow of Brushes (Firefly)

Welcome to Flashback Friday Fic where I go back and repost fic I wrote years ago.


rainbowbrushesFirefly/Serenity
River, Jayne (no pairings)
River really is a tad loony as Jayne finds out…the hard way.

275 words | rating: T


Red plastic, cold and hard, flecks of paste still stuck between the bristles.

Plain white, utilitarian, always perfectly clean and kept in it’s case.

Dark green, worn and battered, half the handle broken off, the bristles crushed from months, no, years of use.

Hand carved of ancient ivory, bristles so fine and white they glistened, Chinese characters inlaid in jade on the handle, a piece of art in itself.

This one buzzed when you pushed the button. Bzzz, bzzz. The bristles were green and in a circular pattern, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.

Pink and sparkly, a cheerful tune played if it moved.

Another plain plastic one, this in brown with a soft rubber grip at the end, clean and new.

This one was her favorite, though. She picked it up and held it to her eyes. Inside the clear blue plastic swam tiny little orange fish. At least they were supposed to look of fish but they were a mite too small and made of plastic to be real fish. But they floated and bobbed up and down the handle. But if you shook it too hard bubbles formed, and the fishies were obscured.

“Girl, what in the gorram world are you doing?”

“I’m cleaning the floor like the captain asked,” River said as she pushed the red brush against the cold steel decking.

“Gwai-gwai long duh dong! That’s my toothbrush,” Jayne yelled.

Without looking at him she held up the glittery pink brush. Jayne snatched it from her hand.

“Crazy nutter,” he mumbled as he stormed back to his bunk, a cheery tune following him as he went.

“You’re welcome,” River called after him.


This story was originally posted at livejournal on February 3, 2008. It has been slightly edited for grammar and clarity.

Flashback Friday Fic: All They Have

alltheyhaveMillers Kill Mysteries
Russ/Clare
Russ takes a little time off from the busy July 4th crowd to spend a little time with Clare.

293 words | rating: PG



Clare watched the fireworks from her spot on the faded, worn blanket spread out in the grass of the park. Overhead the bright shower of sparks exploded with a loud pop. She jumped, her body going rigid at the sound.

“Flashbacks?”

She glanced over her shoulder to find Russ standing a few feet away, still in uniform, but with his hands jammed in his pockets. She shrugged in answer then turned back up to watch another shower of colors descend over the “oohing” crowd.

“It took me years to not jump at every backfiring car or bottle rocket going off.”

“I know.”

After a moment, he lowered himself to the blanket next to her and sat quietly. She noticed he wasn’t watching the show. “Are you still on the clock?”

“Once a cop, always a cop.” His eyes finally slid over to hers, and she felt her pulse speed up. She quickly looked away, her face flushing under his scrutiny.

Another pop caught her off guard, and she gave Russ a sheepish grin. He just smiled, scooting closer until their legs were touching—not overtly intentional looking, but obvious to her nonetheless. She didn’t even notice the next blossom of sparks; her eyes fixed on Russ. He spread his hands away from his body and leaned back on them, mimicking Clare’s position. As his face turned up towards the show, she felt his fingers brushing against her hand. It took every ounce of will power not to look down at them, not to draw attention to the illicit touch. She swallowed hard and followed his gaze up to the night sky trying to be content in the little gesture of friendship he offered. It was all they had.


This story was originally posted on July 9, 2011. It has been slightly edited for grammar and clarity.

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