322.
From hajhaj:
Icon meme time!
• reply to this post with ヽ(゜ ∀。）ノ and I will pick six of your icons.
• make a post (including this info) and talk about the icons I chose.
• other people can then comment to you and make their own posts.
• this will create a never ending cycle of icon glee.
• feel free to ask about my other icons. The post will be edited to add them in!
BTW, hajhahj, I'm about to start episode 9 of Angel Beats! and loving every second of it. :D
:: 75% of my life is spent in pajamas. This is not an exaggeration. I'm a homebody and it takes a lot to blast me out of the house. I don't party much anymore or do anything wilder than make dinner and movie plans with friends. I'm content just chillin' in my room.
:: There's not much of a story behind this one other than I love pin-up girls and it's my obligatory school icon. So why not mix the two? :)
:: Kinda represents my thought process. Just a bunch of random things floating around my head, nice to consider but not all that important to comment on extensively. Even though I do, much to the chagrin of zombifiers and tyrantvirus.
:: One of the funniest moments in FFVIII. Irvine tries to act all cool and lackadaisical after springing everyone from prison and Rinoa kicks him down the stairs. 8) It's basically my "WHEE I'M DUMB" icon.
:: To me, this is the most beautiful portrait of Marilyn Monroe ever. It perfectly captures who she was: glamorous, sensuous and womanly, but in many ways a little girl who had big dreams for herself.
:: Eee, this is from one of my favorite movies, Breakfast on Pluto. ♥ That line isn't spoken in the same scene as the icon, but they go together so perfectly.
I covered a square for schmoop_bingo just now! It's been a very, very long time since I've seen a fic through to the end and felt satisfied with how it came out. So, without further ado, I share it here with you all.
Title: “Smile for the Camera” (736 words)
Author: pianotheme, beta'd by the fruit flavored zombifiers
Prompt: kidfic - birthday
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Henry is recruited to photograph Eileen’s less-than-cooperative niece on her birthday. Takes place a few years after the events of the game.
“Look into the camera, Stephy!” Eileen instructed the young girl in her arms who merely stared up at Henry through the lens, brown eyes wide and mouth smeared with frosting.
It was her seventh birthday party, but she was remarkably shy and didn’t like all the attention she was getting that day, least of all from Henry and the big black contraption in his hands, though he had promised her parents and Eileen that he’d get as many shots in as he could before she’d spot him and start wailing. Then he’d stow the camera behind his back and wait while her mother and Eileen’s sister, Kate, calmed her down.
Eventually, Eileen had to drag her out from beneath a picnic table and talked to her quietly until the tears stopped. She gingerly wiped the girl’s freckled face clean, helped her to a stand and spun her around to face Henry. He crouched a few feet away from them, giving a small wave to show he came in peace. Eileen pinched her niece’s cheek to try and coax a smile out of her, but it was no use.
“It won’t hurt you, sweetie, I swear; but your mama’s gonna kill Aunt Eileen and Mr. Henry if we don’t get a nice picture of you.” Her voice lowered to an anxious whisper in the same moment she started tickling Stephanie under her ribs. “She’ll chase us around the backyard with that big ugly teapot shaped like a rooster, and you know how much I hate that thing.”
Stephanie started squirming and making little squeaks of delight once Eileen found her most ticklish spot. Ever the seasoned photographer, Henry held still with his finger poised over the shutter button, but he couldn’t fight the smile on his face. Eileen adored kids, and it showed. She was quick to comfort them when they were upset or play when the other adults were too tired to indulge them.
It was one of the many things he loved about her.
Stephanie’s squeaks soon turned into full-blown laughter as her aunt went on tickling her and wove a tale about how Stephanie’s father, Aaron, would run them out of the neighborhood on his new motorcycle if they didn’t get her to smile. At last, that did the trick as a beautiful smile broke out on her face, and Henry captured the portrait of a lifetime.
“Got it!” he declared, not without a sigh of relief.
“Okay, kiddo, you’re home free!” Eileen gave her niece a noisy kiss and set her loose. Stephanie raced for her mother and leapt onto her lap, burying her face in her blouse. Kate looked up from the paper plate she’d been dining on and Eileen gave a triumphant thumbs-up, to which her sister grinned and snuggled her daughter. Eileen then led Henry to an unoccupied table, but not before plucking a couple of beers from the cooler, setting one before him. “That was an ordeal.”
“No kidding,” he said, taking the camera from around his neck and enjoying the feel of the frosty bottle in his hand. Eileen touched his arm and regarded Henry with that soft, affectionate look reserved solely for him.
“Thank you for coming. It means a lot to Kate and Aaron, and me.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek, but Henry tilted his head toward her in the last second and their lips met instead. Eileen hummed and drew him in closer, flattening a palm to his chest when the unmistakable ’click’ of a shutter wrenched them apart.
Kate stood over them with Henry’s camera held up to her eye, body shaking with laughter at catching the two of them in a moment that was obviously not intended to be put on display. Eileen slumped in her seat and groaned, and Henry bent his head so his fringe covered his pained expression.
She crowed, “You left yourselves wide open for that one.” Then, putting the camera down, blithely strolled over to the kids’ table and stacked dirty plates and utensils for the garbage. They didn’t dare risk another kiss, but Eileen pointedly squeezed Henry’s knee. In response, he quickly dismantled and tucked his camera in his bag before anyone else had the chance to snap a picture of his deeply flushed face.
Icon meme time!
• reply to this post with ヽ(゜ ∀。）ノ and I will pick six of your icons.
• make a post (including this info) and talk about the icons I chose.
• other people can then comment to you and make their own posts.
• this will create a never ending cycle of icon glee.
• feel free to ask about my other icons. The post will be edited to add them in!
BTW, hajhahj, I'm about to start episode 9 of Angel Beats! and loving every second of it. :D
:: 75% of my life is spent in pajamas. This is not an exaggeration. I'm a homebody and it takes a lot to blast me out of the house. I don't party much anymore or do anything wilder than make dinner and movie plans with friends. I'm content just chillin' in my room.
:: There's not much of a story behind this one other than I love pin-up girls and it's my obligatory school icon. So why not mix the two? :)
:: Kinda represents my thought process. Just a bunch of random things floating around my head, nice to consider but not all that important to comment on extensively. Even though I do, much to the chagrin of zombifiers and tyrantvirus.
:: One of the funniest moments in FFVIII. Irvine tries to act all cool and lackadaisical after springing everyone from prison and Rinoa kicks him down the stairs. 8) It's basically my "WHEE I'M DUMB" icon.
:: To me, this is the most beautiful portrait of Marilyn Monroe ever. It perfectly captures who she was: glamorous, sensuous and womanly, but in many ways a little girl who had big dreams for herself.
:: Eee, this is from one of my favorite movies, Breakfast on Pluto. ♥ That line isn't spoken in the same scene as the icon, but they go together so perfectly.
I covered a square for schmoop_bingo just now! It's been a very, very long time since I've seen a fic through to the end and felt satisfied with how it came out. So, without further ado, I share it here with you all.
Title: “Smile for the Camera” (736 words)
Author: pianotheme, beta'd by the fruit flavored zombifiers
Prompt: kidfic - birthday
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Henry is recruited to photograph Eileen’s less-than-cooperative niece on her birthday. Takes place a few years after the events of the game.
“Look into the camera, Stephy!” Eileen instructed the young girl in her arms who merely stared up at Henry through the lens, brown eyes wide and mouth smeared with frosting.
It was her seventh birthday party, but she was remarkably shy and didn’t like all the attention she was getting that day, least of all from Henry and the big black contraption in his hands, though he had promised her parents and Eileen that he’d get as many shots in as he could before she’d spot him and start wailing. Then he’d stow the camera behind his back and wait while her mother and Eileen’s sister, Kate, calmed her down.
Eventually, Eileen had to drag her out from beneath a picnic table and talked to her quietly until the tears stopped. She gingerly wiped the girl’s freckled face clean, helped her to a stand and spun her around to face Henry. He crouched a few feet away from them, giving a small wave to show he came in peace. Eileen pinched her niece’s cheek to try and coax a smile out of her, but it was no use.
“It won’t hurt you, sweetie, I swear; but your mama’s gonna kill Aunt Eileen and Mr. Henry if we don’t get a nice picture of you.” Her voice lowered to an anxious whisper in the same moment she started tickling Stephanie under her ribs. “She’ll chase us around the backyard with that big ugly teapot shaped like a rooster, and you know how much I hate that thing.”
Stephanie started squirming and making little squeaks of delight once Eileen found her most ticklish spot. Ever the seasoned photographer, Henry held still with his finger poised over the shutter button, but he couldn’t fight the smile on his face. Eileen adored kids, and it showed. She was quick to comfort them when they were upset or play when the other adults were too tired to indulge them.
It was one of the many things he loved about her.
Stephanie’s squeaks soon turned into full-blown laughter as her aunt went on tickling her and wove a tale about how Stephanie’s father, Aaron, would run them out of the neighborhood on his new motorcycle if they didn’t get her to smile. At last, that did the trick as a beautiful smile broke out on her face, and Henry captured the portrait of a lifetime.
“Got it!” he declared, not without a sigh of relief.
“Okay, kiddo, you’re home free!” Eileen gave her niece a noisy kiss and set her loose. Stephanie raced for her mother and leapt onto her lap, burying her face in her blouse. Kate looked up from the paper plate she’d been dining on and Eileen gave a triumphant thumbs-up, to which her sister grinned and snuggled her daughter. Eileen then led Henry to an unoccupied table, but not before plucking a couple of beers from the cooler, setting one before him. “That was an ordeal.”
“No kidding,” he said, taking the camera from around his neck and enjoying the feel of the frosty bottle in his hand. Eileen touched his arm and regarded Henry with that soft, affectionate look reserved solely for him.
“Thank you for coming. It means a lot to Kate and Aaron, and me.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek, but Henry tilted his head toward her in the last second and their lips met instead. Eileen hummed and drew him in closer, flattening a palm to his chest when the unmistakable ’click’ of a shutter wrenched them apart.
Kate stood over them with Henry’s camera held up to her eye, body shaking with laughter at catching the two of them in a moment that was obviously not intended to be put on display. Eileen slumped in her seat and groaned, and Henry bent his head so his fringe covered his pained expression.
She crowed, “You left yourselves wide open for that one.” Then, putting the camera down, blithely strolled over to the kids’ table and stacked dirty plates and utensils for the garbage. They didn’t dare risk another kiss, but Eileen pointedly squeezed Henry’s knee. In response, he quickly dismantled and tucked his camera in his bag before anyone else had the chance to snap a picture of his deeply flushed face.