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tuesdayficarchivedBeta fic that has taken me a shamefully long time for something so very short, plus the unlocked icon fic!
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uminohikari beta fic:
"Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail."
Neville had never been one for going out in a blazing glory in true Gryffindor fashion. When he crossed the lake the first time, he was shaking so hard he nearly fell out of the boat. Then, when his name was called, everyone watching, he had to force himself to make each heavy step forward to pick up the hat. No one was more surprised than he when the sorting hat said "Gryffindor!"
The year of Dumbledore's Army, Neville's first year when he felt he belonged, truly belonged, he would explore the castle for less-used halls and empty classrooms. While Dean and Seamus played games and Harry, Hermione, and Ron disappeared on their own adventures or huddled close to share secrets and Luna went looking for snap-backed triggle-frogs, Neville pushed aside the tables and chairs and practiced the words and wand movements over and over again. Once, he accidentally blew up a chair, splintered wood lacerating his wrists and hands, and all attempts at transfiguration failing him. Professor McGonagall passed by during his attempts to clean up his mess and thought it was just a transfiguration gone wrong, sent him up to the hospital wing and said she would clean up after him. All the while he improved.
Facing the Carrows, Neville couldn't even get any blows in without possibly endangering his position in the school, took his wounds and tried to stand tall, climb to his feet every time he fell. More often than not, he was beaten until they drew blood, but each time he healed, grew stronger, harder, able to ignore the pain.
It wasn't any of his successes that Neville was most proud of--fighting off Deatheaters or killing Nagini. It was in each time he failed, fell down, only to struggle and regain his feet that Neville felt a lasting satisfaction.
--
Icons:
lipstickcat:
Carlton put one hand in the pocket of his dark brown trench coat. The other he used to tip his fedora further over his eyes, obscuring his vision, but with any luck also concealing enough of his face that he would go unrecognized. He slouched toward the door, skirting the scuffling Mario and Luigi and ignoring the welcoming wave of an all too perky Wonder Woman. Didn't O'Hara realize that Wonder Woman wasn't meant to smile that much?
He was close, so close to freedom, the exit drawing ever closer, when an arm drew suddenly around his shoulders. "Lassy-face!" said Luigi, fake-mustache slightly skewed.
"Spencer," Carlton growled out, exit suddenly eons away for all it mattered.
"Come tell Gus that we totally look fine," Spencer said, drawing Carlton back into the Halloween party, "and that we will definitely kill at the costume contest."
"You look ridiculous," Carlton said, "and the only killing that's going to happen is what I'm going to do to you if you don't let me go right this--"
Of course, that was when the lights plunged, and when they were finally brought back on, Carlton was proven wrong about who, exactly, was going to die. But at least--he reassured himself, watching Spencer immediately throw himself into one of his antics--he was spot on the mark about Spencer looking ridiculous.
--
entwashian:
Anna's first day at the Buy More, a scruffy short guy came up to her, all waving hands and too-wide smiles as he offered to "show her around, especially the secluded showroom" Anna had just switched from her last place when it turned out the asshole of a boss thought that "pretty Asian girl" obviously meant "submissive, willing to put up with sexual harassment, and doesn't own pepper spray." She'd proven him wrong on all three counts and not looked back. Anna was just as ready to prove it to scruffy new guy.
Except then it turned out that Morgan just wanted to tell Anna it was okay to goof off a bit when the boss wasn't watching and show her where the memory cards were hidden. He didn't look twice at her past that, accepted her as one of the guys, though Anna was most emphatic in asserting that she was not a guy. Morgan just smiled at this and asked if she wanted to be player two.
Despite herself, she was almost kind of charmed, especially when much, much later, he threw caution and his pride to the wind. As time passed, she was almost kind of in love. But when it came down to it and he chose himself and childish needs over a future with her, well--Anna had never had a problem with proving she was independent and didn't need a relationship skewed in favor of the man to define her.
And if she regretted it a little, walking away this time, that didn't mean that her scruffy, funny ex-boyfriend with waving hands and too-wide smiles couldn't catch up if he really tried. It didn't necessarily have to mean anything that she kept the second controller open.
--
baggy7:
"Oh, you are so handsome," came a high-pitched voice from the Psych office. "Please, I beg of you, make me yours. I love you so."
"And you know I love you," came Shawn's voice, "but you know--you know this is wrong."
"Please, please. Don't make me wait any longer," came the high-pitched voice.
"But you'll die," came Shawn's voice, conflicted, and this is what convinced Gus to open the door the rest of the way and come in, though he knew he would only regret it.
"Shawn, what are you doing?" Gus asked cautiously.
Shawn had been holding up a pineapple, but on Gus's entrance, placed it on the counter. "Nothing," Shawn said in a high-pitched voice. He cleared his voice and repeated, in a voice closer to his own, "Nothing, nothing whatsoever. I was just, you know, in here, chilling, doing my thing."
"And does doing your thing involve acting out a sick love story with that pineapple?" Gus asked, putting his sample case by his desk and settling in.
"Not sick!" Shawn said. "Tragic. Like a delicious Juliet with her very hungry Romeo."
"You realize Jules has a gun," Gus said. "Be careful who you repeat that around."
"Duly noted," Shawn said. He picked the pineapple back up and said, voice high pitched again, "But I don't have any weapons, Shawn! Unless you count awesome flavor as a weapon."
"That's really freaky, Shawn," Gus said, frowning. "Especially considering that's the same tone you use when you talk to my head like it's an object attached to me and not, oh, my head."
"Oh, chocolate-y delicious Magic Head, you know I could never let you come to harm," Shawn said, drawing closer.
"Don't, Shawn," Gus said.
"So magically delicious," Shawn said, and he was close enough for Gus to snatch the pineapple and hold it over his head.
"Stop, or the pineapple gets it," Gus said.
"You wouldn't," Shawn said. Gus narrowed his eyes. Scandalized, Shawn said, "You would! You'd kill a poor, defenseless pineapple over this."
"It has it coming," Gus said.
"That's what I always say," Shawn said happily. "Halfsies?"
Gus sighed and handed the pineapple back over. "Only if you stop making it talk."
Gus finally fled the office to see if he could do anything more with his route when Shawn made tiny shrieking noises with each incision. Gus knew it wasn't because Shawn had mental problems, suspected Shawn just wanted the whole pineapple to himself, but sometimes he considered signing Shawn up for a therapist anyway.
--
uminohikari beta fic:"Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail."
Neville had never been one for going out in a blazing glory in true Gryffindor fashion. When he crossed the lake the first time, he was shaking so hard he nearly fell out of the boat. Then, when his name was called, everyone watching, he had to force himself to make each heavy step forward to pick up the hat. No one was more surprised than he when the sorting hat said "Gryffindor!"
The year of Dumbledore's Army, Neville's first year when he felt he belonged, truly belonged, he would explore the castle for less-used halls and empty classrooms. While Dean and Seamus played games and Harry, Hermione, and Ron disappeared on their own adventures or huddled close to share secrets and Luna went looking for snap-backed triggle-frogs, Neville pushed aside the tables and chairs and practiced the words and wand movements over and over again. Once, he accidentally blew up a chair, splintered wood lacerating his wrists and hands, and all attempts at transfiguration failing him. Professor McGonagall passed by during his attempts to clean up his mess and thought it was just a transfiguration gone wrong, sent him up to the hospital wing and said she would clean up after him. All the while he improved.
Facing the Carrows, Neville couldn't even get any blows in without possibly endangering his position in the school, took his wounds and tried to stand tall, climb to his feet every time he fell. More often than not, he was beaten until they drew blood, but each time he healed, grew stronger, harder, able to ignore the pain.
It wasn't any of his successes that Neville was most proud of--fighting off Deatheaters or killing Nagini. It was in each time he failed, fell down, only to struggle and regain his feet that Neville felt a lasting satisfaction.
--
Icons:
lipstickcat:Carlton put one hand in the pocket of his dark brown trench coat. The other he used to tip his fedora further over his eyes, obscuring his vision, but with any luck also concealing enough of his face that he would go unrecognized. He slouched toward the door, skirting the scuffling Mario and Luigi and ignoring the welcoming wave of an all too perky Wonder Woman. Didn't O'Hara realize that Wonder Woman wasn't meant to smile that much?
He was close, so close to freedom, the exit drawing ever closer, when an arm drew suddenly around his shoulders. "Lassy-face!" said Luigi, fake-mustache slightly skewed.
"Spencer," Carlton growled out, exit suddenly eons away for all it mattered.
"Come tell Gus that we totally look fine," Spencer said, drawing Carlton back into the Halloween party, "and that we will definitely kill at the costume contest."
"You look ridiculous," Carlton said, "and the only killing that's going to happen is what I'm going to do to you if you don't let me go right this--"
Of course, that was when the lights plunged, and when they were finally brought back on, Carlton was proven wrong about who, exactly, was going to die. But at least--he reassured himself, watching Spencer immediately throw himself into one of his antics--he was spot on the mark about Spencer looking ridiculous.
--
entwashian:Anna's first day at the Buy More, a scruffy short guy came up to her, all waving hands and too-wide smiles as he offered to "show her around, especially the secluded showroom" Anna had just switched from her last place when it turned out the asshole of a boss thought that "pretty Asian girl" obviously meant "submissive, willing to put up with sexual harassment, and doesn't own pepper spray." She'd proven him wrong on all three counts and not looked back. Anna was just as ready to prove it to scruffy new guy.
Except then it turned out that Morgan just wanted to tell Anna it was okay to goof off a bit when the boss wasn't watching and show her where the memory cards were hidden. He didn't look twice at her past that, accepted her as one of the guys, though Anna was most emphatic in asserting that she was not a guy. Morgan just smiled at this and asked if she wanted to be player two.
Despite herself, she was almost kind of charmed, especially when much, much later, he threw caution and his pride to the wind. As time passed, she was almost kind of in love. But when it came down to it and he chose himself and childish needs over a future with her, well--Anna had never had a problem with proving she was independent and didn't need a relationship skewed in favor of the man to define her.
And if she regretted it a little, walking away this time, that didn't mean that her scruffy, funny ex-boyfriend with waving hands and too-wide smiles couldn't catch up if he really tried. It didn't necessarily have to mean anything that she kept the second controller open.
--
baggy7:"Oh, you are so handsome," came a high-pitched voice from the Psych office. "Please, I beg of you, make me yours. I love you so."
"And you know I love you," came Shawn's voice, "but you know--you know this is wrong."
"Please, please. Don't make me wait any longer," came the high-pitched voice.
"But you'll die," came Shawn's voice, conflicted, and this is what convinced Gus to open the door the rest of the way and come in, though he knew he would only regret it.
"Shawn, what are you doing?" Gus asked cautiously.
Shawn had been holding up a pineapple, but on Gus's entrance, placed it on the counter. "Nothing," Shawn said in a high-pitched voice. He cleared his voice and repeated, in a voice closer to his own, "Nothing, nothing whatsoever. I was just, you know, in here, chilling, doing my thing."
"And does doing your thing involve acting out a sick love story with that pineapple?" Gus asked, putting his sample case by his desk and settling in.
"Not sick!" Shawn said. "Tragic. Like a delicious Juliet with her very hungry Romeo."
"You realize Jules has a gun," Gus said. "Be careful who you repeat that around."
"Duly noted," Shawn said. He picked the pineapple back up and said, voice high pitched again, "But I don't have any weapons, Shawn! Unless you count awesome flavor as a weapon."
"That's really freaky, Shawn," Gus said, frowning. "Especially considering that's the same tone you use when you talk to my head like it's an object attached to me and not, oh, my head."
"Oh, chocolate-y delicious Magic Head, you know I could never let you come to harm," Shawn said, drawing closer.
"Don't, Shawn," Gus said.
"So magically delicious," Shawn said, and he was close enough for Gus to snatch the pineapple and hold it over his head.
"Stop, or the pineapple gets it," Gus said.
"You wouldn't," Shawn said. Gus narrowed his eyes. Scandalized, Shawn said, "You would! You'd kill a poor, defenseless pineapple over this."
"It has it coming," Gus said.
"That's what I always say," Shawn said happily. "Halfsies?"
Gus sighed and handed the pineapple back over. "Only if you stop making it talk."
Gus finally fled the office to see if he could do anything more with his route when Shawn made tiny shrieking noises with each incision. Gus knew it wasn't because Shawn had mental problems, suspected Shawn just wanted the whole pineapple to himself, but sometimes he considered signing Shawn up for a therapist anyway.
--
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no subject
Date: 2009-02-12 02:56 am (UTC)I love it, thank you! <3
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Date: 2009-03-25 04:46 am (UTC)Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! Sorry it's taken me so long to reply.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 06:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 06:40 am (UTC)except without all the healing sex, what, that totally happened in dS.I am totally looking forward to the latest episode. :D
no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 06:47 am (UTC)Tricia Helfer! Do want! :D
no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 07:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 07:17 am (UTC)My great relief is that Chuck never confronted Sarah about the kiss with Cole, never even let on that he knew. Or else I probably woulda made stabby gestures at my TV.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-15 01:59 pm (UTC)Yes, I know! It's one of the few things that drives me crazy in the show.
If Chuck had done that, you would not have been alone.
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Date: 2009-02-12 06:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 04:47 am (UTC)Sorry it's taken me so long to reply.
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Date: 2009-02-12 07:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 04:47 am (UTC)Sorry it's taken me so long to reply.
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Date: 2009-02-12 08:24 am (UTC)"Not sick!" Shawn said. "Tragic. Like a delicious Juliet with her very hungry Romeo."
*dies laughing* BEST.LINE.EVAR!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 04:48 am (UTC)Sorry it's taken me so long to reply.
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Date: 2009-02-12 11:52 pm (UTC)And the psych ficlet is super cute
no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 04:48 am (UTC)