Drabbles
My podfic was posted at podficbigbang and since then, I've spent way too much time listening to it and questioning my decisions. I used to a have a rule that forbade me from listening to a podfic after I'd posted it for a couple of months (read: until I had nothing else to listen to), and I'm sort of regretting not remembering that earlier, now that I'm hoping I'm my harshest critic.
Anyway. I've been cleaning. And by cleaning, I mean moving the multitude of notebooks all over to one place (might be a drawer, might just be under my desk again). This requires making sure I have everything I might want to remember writing on the computer. So some of the drabbles I wrote are seeing the light of day. Pretend to appreciate this.
Title: Something Impossible
Fandom/Pairings: Doctor Who (spoilers for season five). Some Amy/Rory, mostly gen.
Amelia Pond grows up with her mother and father and an aunt whom she sees on holidays, and when she grows up she changes her name to Amy and falls in love with a man named Rory.
It's all quite simple, really.
Except when she is seven, she starts drawing pictures of the Raggedy Doctor because she remembers drawing pictures of him before, but cannot find them. She makes puppets and clay figures of him too, and it's like she already knows how (use these scissors to make rips in his jacket, roll the clay against the table to get his arms just right). She keeps a suitcase packed beneath her bed, and refuses to empty it. When she is nineteen she finds herself staring at the two doors before the stairs on the second floor and at people's mouths, and on the night before her wedding, she wakes and stares out of her bedroom window. Waiting for something, but she doesn't know what, and when she falls back asleep her dreams are filled with blue and boxes and the sun glinting off of gold hair.
In the morning, she searches through the faces in the pews as she walks down the aisle, looking for something or someone. Maybe, she thinks, slightly hysterically, she has always been like this; always searching for something impossible. She peers into every corner she passes, checks under tablecloths. Rory laughs and she snaps at him; and then she is handed a book, a blue book, and she touches her hand to her cheek and pulls it away, wet with tears, and everything seems to slot into place.
She has already found an impossible thing.
Title: Fairytales From the Far Past
Fandoms/Warnings: Doctor Who/Torchwood. Canon-compliant character death. Poetry.
Notes: I scribbled this over a couple of days (on the cover of one of the notebooks-apparently the paper inside wasn't good enough for it). I wish I could say it took me five minutes.
Rose, Doctor, Satellites, Daleks, Rose,
These are the things that haunt him.
Emily and Alice, Cardiff and death,
These are the things that are left.
Death to capture, research to aid,
This is the house that Jack built.
Owen and Tosh, Ianto and Gwen,
These are the ones he stole.
Rose, Doctor, pain and death,
Ianto, Steven, martyr and saviour,
These are the stories Jack takes.
Untitled
Fandom/Pairings; Secret Diary of a Call Girl. Unrequited: Belle/Bambi, Ben/Belle, suggested Ben/Bambi/Belle
Notes: I've wanted to write this for ages, but thought that I had to have an introduction, and set a scene, and add plot. And then I watched the season 2 finale, and thought, no. It's Bambi. Bambi has no introduction, Bambi needs no introduction.
That said, this is set during the season 2 finale.
“I think about fucking her, sometimes,” Bambi says, out of the blue, as usual. Ben hums in agreement, and then stops and looks up. “Who?”
“Belle,” Bambi says, with a roll of her eyes and flick of her wrist. “I think about fucking her, like, for real, sometimes.”
“Um...” says Ben, and looks back down at the book in his hand. “Okay.”
“Not seriously, or anything,” Bambi continues, “because it's like 'two whores in a relationship' yeah, that's going to work.” She glances over at Ben, attempts to smile seductively. Mostly unwillingly, he finds his eyes drawn back up to that smile. “I think about fucking you with her,” she says, and Ben chokes on nothing and sits up straighter, eyes wide.
Bambi smiles again, a real one this time. “The way I figure it,” she says, “is that you could arrange to pay her for sex, and then I could show up, and you could be like 'Hey, surprise threesome!' and we could both get what we want.”
Ben shakes his head slowly and then tilts it to one side. “Which is what, exactly?” he asks.
“Well, I'd get a chance to fuck her, and you,” Bambi says, “would get one more night during which she's not fucking some nameless bloke.”
Ben tilts his head back until it's upright once more, and very carefully closes his book before standing up. “I...I don't care that she's a prostitute,” he says, and it's almost true.
“Nah, I know that,” Bambi says, with a shake of her head. “You just care that she doesn't come home to you.”
Ben splutters, but stops when he notes Bambi's look of exasperated patience. “It's not like you're not totally obvious,” she says. She leans forward on the sofa. “It's okay, Ben.”
Ben scratches the back of his head and looks around, desperate to find an appropriate reason to leave.
“I think it's sweet,” Bambi says with a decisive nod, which just makes everything ten times worse. “Belle needs someone who could accept her.”
“We're not...actually together, or anything,” Ben says (Bambi nodding along in agreement). “We're just friends. Now. We're just friends.”
'Yeah, I know,” Bambi says. “It's not like that's not obvious, too.” She shrugs. “It's probably why I'm not jealous and actually root for you, sometimes.” She frowns at him as though he were a child, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 'You're just so hopeless.”
“Gee, erm, thanks,” Ben says. “Look, I've just remembered...stuff I have to do.”
Bambi smiles condescendingly. “Of course you have,” she says, and stands as well. She grabs her bag and walks with him to the door. Before they part, she says, with a hand on his shoulder, “You know, talking to her probably couldn't make it any worse than it already is.”
She smiles again and walks down the hall. She's almost reached the corner when she looks back and calls, “But, if you need any comfort, I'm always available,” she winks and turns left.
Ben stands in the middle of the hallway, avoiding the gaze of passersby and scratching his neck for several seconds before he remembers himself, and starts to walk again.
Title: Mother's Day
Fandom: Saturday Night Live (oops). Does it count as RPF if I'm basing Seth's portrayal on his portrayal of scripted words?
Pairing; Seth Meyers/Alexi Ashe, pre-slash Seth Meyers/Stefon, Alexi Ashe/Kristen Wiig
Disclaimer: I don't even know what to say as a disclaimer--the real people in this are wildly OOC, none of this ever happened (because Stefon isn't real...) Blame the evil muse and the shirt Stefon's always wearing.
Notes: How was a I supposed to resist?
This feels an awful lot like crack.
Stefon accompanies Seth to his mother's, bouncing in the seat and playing music that makes Seth fervently wish that Alexi had not been working late and suggested that she drive her own car to Seth's mother's house and that Stefon accompany Seth so that he “doesn't get lonely.” The one bright part of the whole drive is finding out that Seth does, in fact, own more than one shirt. True, the one he decides to wear is exactly the same style as the one he wears on SNL, but this one is, at least, a different colour. Hot pink with a swirls and circles of a pinkish, reddish orange colour than makes Seth eyes hurt, but at least it lets Seth decide, once and for all, that Stefon does occasionally do normal human things like sleep. Or at least change (and hopefully wash) clothes.
Mrs. Meyers loves Stefon right from the moment he twirls up the sidewalk, expounding upon some club's walls that are covered with paintings of penises and flowers. Apparently, Mrs. Meyers has the same flowers as the ones on the walls growing in her window plant boxes. Seth pretends not to hear his mother hum in consideration when Stefon tells her about this, and then ask him whether the colours of the flowers are the same.
Seth makes an aborted attempt to introduce them, but his mother stops him by exclaiming “Oh, I know all about you! I see you with my Seth on T.V. all the time!” She leans towards him earnestly. “Don't listen to him when he says you're not good at it. I would absolutely love to visit the places you describe.”
Seth rolls his eyes and Stefon makes a happy excited...squeal (there's no other word for it) and grabs Mrs. Meyers arm and starts making plans as they walk into the house.
Alexi shows up just before dinner and kisses Seth swiftly before moving past him and hugging both Mrs. Meyers and Stefon before she starts to rant about her day (to which Stefon makes commiserating noises annoyingly frequently). Seth stands in the corner of the kitchen and watches them all and shifts from foot to foot before deciding to stir a pot of something that is bubbling on the stove. He hears a slap and turns back around to find Alexi's hand on Stefon's arm, both of them laughing hysterically (though Stefon has a hint of a pout and is rubbing his arm below Alexi's hand) while blatantly ogling Seth's ass. Seth blushes and ignores his mother's smile and tries to figure out what he's stirring.
Dinner is something that tastes like stew but is, apparently, pasta sauce, and Stefon spends the meal sucking the macaroni off his fork with lewd slurping sounds and needlessly hollowed cheeks, while Alexi snorts into her own meal whenever he does it (both of them staring straight at Seth from across the table). Mrs. Meyers smiles delightedly at the two, and Seth stares at his own plate for the whole meal and doesn't really eat (whenever he tries to take a bite, Stefon makes a particularly loud slurp or groan, and Seth blushes and sets his fork down).
Seth retires to bed early, saying goodnight to his mother and Alexi and ignoring Stefon's giggles as he heads up the stairs. He lays down, and then just stares at the ceiling. He's never been very good at falling asleep surrounded by the remnants of his childhood.
Alexi comes up eventually, smiling at Seth and changing into pyjamas. She slips under the covers silently, curling into Seth's side and starting to trace her index finger up and down his chest.
“Stefon's fun,” she says softly.
Seth snorts.
Alexi rests her chin on his chest, smiling up at him. “He is,” she insists.
“Sure,” Seth says. “You can drive him back.”
She leans up to kiss his nose, and then she stares deep into his eyes, and says, very seriously “I would be totally okay if you had sex with him.”
Seth sputters and sits up. “What?” he asks, loudly.
Alexi smiles and kisses his nose. “I think it's time we talked about this.” she takes Seth's left hand between each of her own. “I would not be jealous if you had sex with Seth, if...” she trails off, looks away, and then looks determinedly back into Seth's eyes before continuing. “If you're okay with me having sex with Kristen, next time she offers.”
“What?” Seth asks again.
“Don't pretend you don't want to have him,” Alexi chides. “You were blushing throughout dinner.”
“Because-because he was moaning! And hollowing his cheeks!”
Alexi smiles at him kindly. “And you immediately starting thinking of him blowing you.”
“What?” Seth repeats.
“It's okay to want him, Seth,” Alexi assures him.
Seth stares at her for several seconds, before something occurs to him. “Wait, wait,” he says. “Was my driving with him...and dinner...some elaborate set-up so I'd agree to let you have sex with Kristen, because you didn't have to do that. I'm fine with it.”
Alexi smiles widely. “That's absolutely fantastic to hear,” she says. “But there's still the matter of you and Stefon. It's fine with me that you want to have sex with him.” she kisses his cheek. “Have fun.”
Seth sputters again. 'I'm not having sex with him at my mother's house!” he exclaims, and knows immediately that he said the wrong thing, because Alexi claps her hands delightedly.
“Alright,” she says, excitedly. “Next Friday-I'll go over to Kristen's, and you can have Stefon over!”
She kisses Seth, and pushes him back onto the bed, and curls up to his side again.
Seth is too shocked to say anything immediately, and by the time he manages to open his mouth, Alexi is snoring softly at his side.
Unsurprisingly, Seth stares at the ceiling for hours before he manages to fall asleep.
Anyway. I've been cleaning. And by cleaning, I mean moving the multitude of notebooks all over to one place (might be a drawer, might just be under my desk again). This requires making sure I have everything I might want to remember writing on the computer. So some of the drabbles I wrote are seeing the light of day. Pretend to appreciate this.
Title: Something Impossible
Fandom/Pairings: Doctor Who (spoilers for season five). Some Amy/Rory, mostly gen.
Amelia Pond grows up with her mother and father and an aunt whom she sees on holidays, and when she grows up she changes her name to Amy and falls in love with a man named Rory.
It's all quite simple, really.
Except when she is seven, she starts drawing pictures of the Raggedy Doctor because she remembers drawing pictures of him before, but cannot find them. She makes puppets and clay figures of him too, and it's like she already knows how (use these scissors to make rips in his jacket, roll the clay against the table to get his arms just right). She keeps a suitcase packed beneath her bed, and refuses to empty it. When she is nineteen she finds herself staring at the two doors before the stairs on the second floor and at people's mouths, and on the night before her wedding, she wakes and stares out of her bedroom window. Waiting for something, but she doesn't know what, and when she falls back asleep her dreams are filled with blue and boxes and the sun glinting off of gold hair.
In the morning, she searches through the faces in the pews as she walks down the aisle, looking for something or someone. Maybe, she thinks, slightly hysterically, she has always been like this; always searching for something impossible. She peers into every corner she passes, checks under tablecloths. Rory laughs and she snaps at him; and then she is handed a book, a blue book, and she touches her hand to her cheek and pulls it away, wet with tears, and everything seems to slot into place.
She has already found an impossible thing.
Title: Fairytales From the Far Past
Fandoms/Warnings: Doctor Who/Torchwood. Canon-compliant character death. Poetry.
Notes: I scribbled this over a couple of days (on the cover of one of the notebooks-apparently the paper inside wasn't good enough for it). I wish I could say it took me five minutes.
Rose, Doctor, Satellites, Daleks, Rose,
These are the things that haunt him.
Emily and Alice, Cardiff and death,
These are the things that are left.
Death to capture, research to aid,
This is the house that Jack built.
Owen and Tosh, Ianto and Gwen,
These are the ones he stole.
Rose, Doctor, pain and death,
Ianto, Steven, martyr and saviour,
These are the stories Jack takes.
Untitled
Fandom/Pairings; Secret Diary of a Call Girl. Unrequited: Belle/Bambi, Ben/Belle, suggested Ben/Bambi/Belle
Notes: I've wanted to write this for ages, but thought that I had to have an introduction, and set a scene, and add plot. And then I watched the season 2 finale, and thought, no. It's Bambi. Bambi has no introduction, Bambi needs no introduction.
That said, this is set during the season 2 finale.
“I think about fucking her, sometimes,” Bambi says, out of the blue, as usual. Ben hums in agreement, and then stops and looks up. “Who?”
“Belle,” Bambi says, with a roll of her eyes and flick of her wrist. “I think about fucking her, like, for real, sometimes.”
“Um...” says Ben, and looks back down at the book in his hand. “Okay.”
“Not seriously, or anything,” Bambi continues, “because it's like 'two whores in a relationship' yeah, that's going to work.” She glances over at Ben, attempts to smile seductively. Mostly unwillingly, he finds his eyes drawn back up to that smile. “I think about fucking you with her,” she says, and Ben chokes on nothing and sits up straighter, eyes wide.
Bambi smiles again, a real one this time. “The way I figure it,” she says, “is that you could arrange to pay her for sex, and then I could show up, and you could be like 'Hey, surprise threesome!' and we could both get what we want.”
Ben shakes his head slowly and then tilts it to one side. “Which is what, exactly?” he asks.
“Well, I'd get a chance to fuck her, and you,” Bambi says, “would get one more night during which she's not fucking some nameless bloke.”
Ben tilts his head back until it's upright once more, and very carefully closes his book before standing up. “I...I don't care that she's a prostitute,” he says, and it's almost true.
“Nah, I know that,” Bambi says, with a shake of her head. “You just care that she doesn't come home to you.”
Ben splutters, but stops when he notes Bambi's look of exasperated patience. “It's not like you're not totally obvious,” she says. She leans forward on the sofa. “It's okay, Ben.”
Ben scratches the back of his head and looks around, desperate to find an appropriate reason to leave.
“I think it's sweet,” Bambi says with a decisive nod, which just makes everything ten times worse. “Belle needs someone who could accept her.”
“We're not...actually together, or anything,” Ben says (Bambi nodding along in agreement). “We're just friends. Now. We're just friends.”
'Yeah, I know,” Bambi says. “It's not like that's not obvious, too.” She shrugs. “It's probably why I'm not jealous and actually root for you, sometimes.” She frowns at him as though he were a child, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 'You're just so hopeless.”
“Gee, erm, thanks,” Ben says. “Look, I've just remembered...stuff I have to do.”
Bambi smiles condescendingly. “Of course you have,” she says, and stands as well. She grabs her bag and walks with him to the door. Before they part, she says, with a hand on his shoulder, “You know, talking to her probably couldn't make it any worse than it already is.”
She smiles again and walks down the hall. She's almost reached the corner when she looks back and calls, “But, if you need any comfort, I'm always available,” she winks and turns left.
Ben stands in the middle of the hallway, avoiding the gaze of passersby and scratching his neck for several seconds before he remembers himself, and starts to walk again.
Title: Mother's Day
Fandom: Saturday Night Live (oops). Does it count as RPF if I'm basing Seth's portrayal on his portrayal of scripted words?
Pairing; Seth Meyers/Alexi Ashe, pre-slash Seth Meyers/Stefon, Alexi Ashe/Kristen Wiig
Disclaimer: I don't even know what to say as a disclaimer--the real people in this are wildly OOC, none of this ever happened (because Stefon isn't real...) Blame the evil muse and the shirt Stefon's always wearing.
Notes: How was a I supposed to resist?
This feels an awful lot like crack.
Stefon accompanies Seth to his mother's, bouncing in the seat and playing music that makes Seth fervently wish that Alexi had not been working late and suggested that she drive her own car to Seth's mother's house and that Stefon accompany Seth so that he “doesn't get lonely.” The one bright part of the whole drive is finding out that Seth does, in fact, own more than one shirt. True, the one he decides to wear is exactly the same style as the one he wears on SNL, but this one is, at least, a different colour. Hot pink with a swirls and circles of a pinkish, reddish orange colour than makes Seth eyes hurt, but at least it lets Seth decide, once and for all, that Stefon does occasionally do normal human things like sleep. Or at least change (and hopefully wash) clothes.
Mrs. Meyers loves Stefon right from the moment he twirls up the sidewalk, expounding upon some club's walls that are covered with paintings of penises and flowers. Apparently, Mrs. Meyers has the same flowers as the ones on the walls growing in her window plant boxes. Seth pretends not to hear his mother hum in consideration when Stefon tells her about this, and then ask him whether the colours of the flowers are the same.
Seth makes an aborted attempt to introduce them, but his mother stops him by exclaiming “Oh, I know all about you! I see you with my Seth on T.V. all the time!” She leans towards him earnestly. “Don't listen to him when he says you're not good at it. I would absolutely love to visit the places you describe.”
Seth rolls his eyes and Stefon makes a happy excited...squeal (there's no other word for it) and grabs Mrs. Meyers arm and starts making plans as they walk into the house.
Alexi shows up just before dinner and kisses Seth swiftly before moving past him and hugging both Mrs. Meyers and Stefon before she starts to rant about her day (to which Stefon makes commiserating noises annoyingly frequently). Seth stands in the corner of the kitchen and watches them all and shifts from foot to foot before deciding to stir a pot of something that is bubbling on the stove. He hears a slap and turns back around to find Alexi's hand on Stefon's arm, both of them laughing hysterically (though Stefon has a hint of a pout and is rubbing his arm below Alexi's hand) while blatantly ogling Seth's ass. Seth blushes and ignores his mother's smile and tries to figure out what he's stirring.
Dinner is something that tastes like stew but is, apparently, pasta sauce, and Stefon spends the meal sucking the macaroni off his fork with lewd slurping sounds and needlessly hollowed cheeks, while Alexi snorts into her own meal whenever he does it (both of them staring straight at Seth from across the table). Mrs. Meyers smiles delightedly at the two, and Seth stares at his own plate for the whole meal and doesn't really eat (whenever he tries to take a bite, Stefon makes a particularly loud slurp or groan, and Seth blushes and sets his fork down).
Seth retires to bed early, saying goodnight to his mother and Alexi and ignoring Stefon's giggles as he heads up the stairs. He lays down, and then just stares at the ceiling. He's never been very good at falling asleep surrounded by the remnants of his childhood.
Alexi comes up eventually, smiling at Seth and changing into pyjamas. She slips under the covers silently, curling into Seth's side and starting to trace her index finger up and down his chest.
“Stefon's fun,” she says softly.
Seth snorts.
Alexi rests her chin on his chest, smiling up at him. “He is,” she insists.
“Sure,” Seth says. “You can drive him back.”
She leans up to kiss his nose, and then she stares deep into his eyes, and says, very seriously “I would be totally okay if you had sex with him.”
Seth sputters and sits up. “What?” he asks, loudly.
Alexi smiles and kisses his nose. “I think it's time we talked about this.” she takes Seth's left hand between each of her own. “I would not be jealous if you had sex with Seth, if...” she trails off, looks away, and then looks determinedly back into Seth's eyes before continuing. “If you're okay with me having sex with Kristen, next time she offers.”
“What?” Seth asks again.
“Don't pretend you don't want to have him,” Alexi chides. “You were blushing throughout dinner.”
“Because-because he was moaning! And hollowing his cheeks!”
Alexi smiles at him kindly. “And you immediately starting thinking of him blowing you.”
“What?” Seth repeats.
“It's okay to want him, Seth,” Alexi assures him.
Seth stares at her for several seconds, before something occurs to him. “Wait, wait,” he says. “Was my driving with him...and dinner...some elaborate set-up so I'd agree to let you have sex with Kristen, because you didn't have to do that. I'm fine with it.”
Alexi smiles widely. “That's absolutely fantastic to hear,” she says. “But there's still the matter of you and Stefon. It's fine with me that you want to have sex with him.” she kisses his cheek. “Have fun.”
Seth sputters again. 'I'm not having sex with him at my mother's house!” he exclaims, and knows immediately that he said the wrong thing, because Alexi claps her hands delightedly.
“Alright,” she says, excitedly. “Next Friday-I'll go over to Kristen's, and you can have Stefon over!”
She kisses Seth, and pushes him back onto the bed, and curls up to his side again.
Seth is too shocked to say anything immediately, and by the time he manages to open his mouth, Alexi is snoring softly at his side.
Unsurprisingly, Seth stares at the ceiling for hours before he manages to fall asleep.