two memes, one with fic excerpts
You paid attention during 100% of high school!
85-100% You must be an autodidact, because American high schools don't get scores that high! Good show, old chap!
Do you deserve your high school diploma?
Make a Quiz
Okay, so earlier this week I missed "quote your own fic day" because I was slaving away on that index. So here are a few favorite bits from some of my own fic.
From "Shame" part I -- Buffyverse - Xander/Oz, Xander/Spike
"Mind pulling the shades, luv? Don't fancy myself a pile of ash in your bed."
Xander wiped the sleep from his eyes as he came back from the bathroom. He hadn't even looked at the sleeping body beside him when he’d awakened to take a piss. Oz was the only one he'd ever brought here.
But this wasn't Oz.
Xander stared at the sliver of light grazing the end of the bed just inches from Spike's foot. Bits and pieces of the night before came back to him. He looked up to see Spike smiling at him. "All coming back now, eh?"
Xander ran back into the bathroom and threw up.
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From "Everything" - SPN - gen fic - Dean POV
Things are working themselves out and you look around the dinner table for the first time in weeks and smile because you see a family. You laugh at yourself because you feel like a parent -- telling Jesse to eat his green beans as you get up to get Sarah from her crib when you hear her cry. You know how he likes to force them on Johnny when no one's looking. Johnny's like you, he'll do anything for his brother -- even eat extra green beans.
You bring Sarah into the kitchen and fix her a bottle then carry her upstairs and knock on the door at the end of the hall. Silence. You knock again. And still silence.
"Come on, Sammy. Sarah needs you." You try the knob and the door opens. Sam's lying on the bed facing the far wall. He doesn't move, he doesn't answer. "Hey." You sit on the edge of the bed. "You need to hold her, Sam. Feed her. She needs you." He doesn't move and you sigh. It's been this way ever since they arrived. Sam walked through the front door and handed her off to you and hasn't held her since. You remember Dad reacted the same way all those years ago -- scared to hold Sam, worried that it was somehow all his fault.
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From "Make It a Footlong with Everything" - Due South - Fraser/Kowalski - bad fic challenge (I love this story, it always cracks me up)
But you're probably wondering about the whole serial killer thing, right? Well see, there were a series of hot-dog-vendors-by-day, hustlers-by-night (which sounds ludicrous, but they're everywhere in the big cities and Ray wondered if the pretzel guys were working nights too and if that was how Stell'as new man managed to be more financially solvent than Ray was) who'd turned up dead over the last couple months.
Anyway, the police had tried placing one of their own guys undercover, but it seemed that whoever the killer was, he knew a real vendor from a phony one. You just can't fake being a hot dog vendor -- there's a certain scent that you can only get from slinging dogs for years. The cop wasn't fooling anybody. So when Vecchio'd ended up with the case and mentioned it to Fraser, he'd suggested that they use Ray as bait for the killer. Well, Fraser didn't actually use the word "bait", but that was what he meant.
Vecchio got it approved, Fraser asked Ray, Ray said yes, and now there he was spending his days on the corner with his hot dog stand and his nights leaning against the wall, mustard and ketchup strategically placed to draw out the killer.
Ray could feel Fraser's eyes on him. He sighed and slouched back against the wall, one foot pulled up against the brick. He had his thumbs tucked into his pockets with his fingers framing his cock. He was hard in his pants, because who wouldn't be with a boyfriend like Fraser staring at him in the dark while he pretended to be selling himself? Ray was reaching up to muss his hair when a man in a dark trench coat came around the corner and stopped to stare at him.
"Hey," Ray said as he tipped his head to the side and eyed the man up. "Lookin' for a date?"
"Maybe," the man replied. He stepped closer and Ray could tell he was staring at the smudge of spicy brown mustard on his collarbone -- Fraser'd put it there and Ray couldn't wait to get home and have him lick it off of him. Scary trench coat man wanted him, Ray just had to close the deal and take the guy into the alley where the cops would arrest him. He reached his arms up over his head, stretching his back and letting his shirt slide up to reveal a sliver of his six-pack abs. Ray was slim, but toned -- he stuck to the turkey dogs himself.