... in which I think this line's mostly filler
I figured I'd post the ficletty things I did in the comments of my last ficlets post. This is more for reference/ease of categorisation, so, feel free to move right along. Or, if you like, you can ask for some inspiration words, or you can give me some prompt words and I'll write you something. I can't promise it'll be immediately, but there will be something.
Strangers with Candy for insanekht:
shoes
Claire has a most unfair habit of coming home early, so Chuck's used to having to detangle and then shove Geoffrey out of the window as fast as possible, and knows how it means that things have a habit of getting left behind. So explaining the pair of shoes in the bedroom (one on the mantlepiece, the other on top of the wardrobe) is not so unusual. The fact the shoes are red and sparkly, however, poses more of a problem.
wish
Most people wish upon stars. Geoffrey wishes on lots of things (his mirror, his hair, his amazing leather trousers) but lately, he wishes on fire engines. He's just not sure whether he wants them to be heading for Flatpoint High or Chuck's house.
best
"This cheesecake is the best!" says Chuck, and is pretty sure Geoffrey knows that isn't what he means. Probably.
translate
"Okay, class - shut up! Now we are moving on to direct translation, by which I mean that I'm going to sit here and you're going to tell me what the hell this illegible scrawl means. Hmm... Jerri! You have a vague understanding of... something, you can go first."
"Phhhft, I knew I should never have let that albino midget talk me into learning any of his monkey-language."
"There are less than 90,000 seconds in a day, Jerri!"
"Huh, let me see... something something lubricant something something ass-candy? What is this?"
"... thankyou, Jerri! Class dismissed!"
seek
It was finals week, and also Claire had been complaining that Chuck had better get Seamus a better birthday present than the long weekend at a male-only spa he'd bought last year, so Chuck and Geoffrey unanimously decided the students would be best served if the two of them ran off to check out various toyshops for a gift.
They didn't find one. Instead, they found two Super-Soaker 3000s and spent the afternoon in the park making babies cry and having sex in the bushes. And when he got home and his wife, as always, asked how his day had been, Chuck was surprised to find that when he said "good", he actually kind of meant it.
for rachel2005:
fish
Geoffrey had been looking forward to it all week. Everything had been bought and paid for and carefully set up, and now here he was, almost life-long ambition, finally about to be realised! He couldn't wait to show Chuck.
Two screaming fits, three fire engines and six dead sapphire-blue Japanese puffer fish later, he reflected that he should probably have found out that Chuck had a phobia of fish before sprining that particular fantasy on him.
cheesecake
For most people, sitting up at three in the morning eating cheesecake is their time of greatest doubt and fear. For Chuck, it's just the oppposite.
poetry
Chuck's poetry is bad. Very, very bad. Geoffrey is pretty sure the world is agreed on this. Unfortunately, Chuck is not, and worse, has the temerity to drag Geoffrey's poetry into it.
"Yours makes children cry, Chuck!"
"That's... at least it doesn't make them throw up! And puppies don't dance!"
"Yes they do!" Geoffrey picked up Mr Snuffles and petted him consolingly, trying to keep the hurt and pain and all-around tragedy he felt out of his voice. "Come on, Mr Snuffles, we won't let this... ogre talk about you like that! He's just mean!" He stormed out, Mr Snuffles in his arms.
Chuck yelled after him down the corridor. "Fine, Geoffrey, I get enough of that from my SON!"
He turned back to his class. "Oh, right, where was I. The Civil War..."
for tangleofthorns, neighbour
Claire really enjoyed taking Seamus to Disneyland and had a great time showing everybody the pictures afterwards, but she did think it was odd that the neighbours on both sides should have gotten soundproofing in her absence.
---
mask
It takes quite a lot to scare Severus, but some days the mask feels more comfortable than others, and that does it every time.
----
fever
Keith forgets stuff, with the exception of songs and the location of each and every one of his guitars. Everybody knows that. Most people figure, that much junk in his system, it's a miracle he remembers anything. But Mick's always known that Keith's some kind of superman, so it's kind of ironic that it takes seeing Keith truly fucking out of it with fever to make him wonder how much of that forgetfulness is deliberate.
----
CSI for scoobygang63:
sticks
"Dude."
Nick tried not to laugh at the expression of disbelief on Greg's face. "You OK there, G?"
"It's a stick." Greg paused. "A stick."
"Yeah, a very important stick, and the plant specialist isn't back til Tuesday, so it's a stick I need you to run some tests on."
"Fine. But-"
Nick raised a hand to defend himself from the truly horrendous puns he knew were coming. "Nonono, no stick jokes. Just you and the nice machine, okay?"
Greg sighed and started prepping. "Okay." He flashed a grin over his shoulder. "Later, though?"
Nick grinned back. "Later, there can be stick jokes."
He patted Greg's shoulder and left, but Greg's parting "all right!" lingered all day.
----
The Sentinel, cones, for jekesta
"Blair!"
Blair obligingly stuck his head out of his room and said "What's up?" Jim blinked, and wondered again how he'd ended up sharing his house with a man who would keep his curls out of his face with a headscarf, let alone a headscarf with what had to be one of the least Sentinel-friendly patterns he'd ever seen in his life. It was like somebody had given an Impressionist a whole load of LSD.
"There's these tiny cone things all over the floor in the bathroom, Chief. They wouldn't be anything to do with you, would they?" He was pretty sure at this point that the hard-ass cop routine didn't actually work with Blair any more, if it ever really had, but hey, a man could try.
"Cone things?... Oh! Yeah, sorry, man, I was trying out this really wild piece of ritual cleansing I was reading about - it's kind of like smudging but anyway, it uses these crystals, and I know it bugs you that I still think it's cool, but man, you can see those? I cleaned up as well as I could and I didn't see anything left. If we've got any cleaner I can have another go."
Jim, who had been planning on very firmly telling him to do exactly that, put a dishtowel back in its drawer instead. "Nah, it's all right. What do you want for dinner?"
----
Now I should go and do stuff, cause I am currently being paid to do some transcription work for a friend of mine and who knew, it's actual, y'know, work. (I suddenly have a whole load of respect for all the researchers I know who deal with such things a lot. Why must people insist on talking quietly and mumbling and repeating things weirdly and coughing into the microphone? Whhhyyyyy?)
Strangers with Candy for insanekht:
shoes
Claire has a most unfair habit of coming home early, so Chuck's used to having to detangle and then shove Geoffrey out of the window as fast as possible, and knows how it means that things have a habit of getting left behind. So explaining the pair of shoes in the bedroom (one on the mantlepiece, the other on top of the wardrobe) is not so unusual. The fact the shoes are red and sparkly, however, poses more of a problem.
wish
Most people wish upon stars. Geoffrey wishes on lots of things (his mirror, his hair, his amazing leather trousers) but lately, he wishes on fire engines. He's just not sure whether he wants them to be heading for Flatpoint High or Chuck's house.
best
"This cheesecake is the best!" says Chuck, and is pretty sure Geoffrey knows that isn't what he means. Probably.
translate
"Okay, class - shut up! Now we are moving on to direct translation, by which I mean that I'm going to sit here and you're going to tell me what the hell this illegible scrawl means. Hmm... Jerri! You have a vague understanding of... something, you can go first."
"Phhhft, I knew I should never have let that albino midget talk me into learning any of his monkey-language."
"There are less than 90,000 seconds in a day, Jerri!"
"Huh, let me see... something something lubricant something something ass-candy? What is this?"
"... thankyou, Jerri! Class dismissed!"
seek
It was finals week, and also Claire had been complaining that Chuck had better get Seamus a better birthday present than the long weekend at a male-only spa he'd bought last year, so Chuck and Geoffrey unanimously decided the students would be best served if the two of them ran off to check out various toyshops for a gift.
They didn't find one. Instead, they found two Super-Soaker 3000s and spent the afternoon in the park making babies cry and having sex in the bushes. And when he got home and his wife, as always, asked how his day had been, Chuck was surprised to find that when he said "good", he actually kind of meant it.
for rachel2005:
fish
Geoffrey had been looking forward to it all week. Everything had been bought and paid for and carefully set up, and now here he was, almost life-long ambition, finally about to be realised! He couldn't wait to show Chuck.
Two screaming fits, three fire engines and six dead sapphire-blue Japanese puffer fish later, he reflected that he should probably have found out that Chuck had a phobia of fish before sprining that particular fantasy on him.
cheesecake
For most people, sitting up at three in the morning eating cheesecake is their time of greatest doubt and fear. For Chuck, it's just the oppposite.
poetry
Chuck's poetry is bad. Very, very bad. Geoffrey is pretty sure the world is agreed on this. Unfortunately, Chuck is not, and worse, has the temerity to drag Geoffrey's poetry into it.
"Yours makes children cry, Chuck!"
"That's... at least it doesn't make them throw up! And puppies don't dance!"
"Yes they do!" Geoffrey picked up Mr Snuffles and petted him consolingly, trying to keep the hurt and pain and all-around tragedy he felt out of his voice. "Come on, Mr Snuffles, we won't let this... ogre talk about you like that! He's just mean!" He stormed out, Mr Snuffles in his arms.
Chuck yelled after him down the corridor. "Fine, Geoffrey, I get enough of that from my SON!"
He turned back to his class. "Oh, right, where was I. The Civil War..."
for tangleofthorns, neighbour
Claire really enjoyed taking Seamus to Disneyland and had a great time showing everybody the pictures afterwards, but she did think it was odd that the neighbours on both sides should have gotten soundproofing in her absence.
---
mask
It takes quite a lot to scare Severus, but some days the mask feels more comfortable than others, and that does it every time.
----
fever
Keith forgets stuff, with the exception of songs and the location of each and every one of his guitars. Everybody knows that. Most people figure, that much junk in his system, it's a miracle he remembers anything. But Mick's always known that Keith's some kind of superman, so it's kind of ironic that it takes seeing Keith truly fucking out of it with fever to make him wonder how much of that forgetfulness is deliberate.
----
CSI for scoobygang63:
sticks
"Dude."
Nick tried not to laugh at the expression of disbelief on Greg's face. "You OK there, G?"
"It's a stick." Greg paused. "A stick."
"Yeah, a very important stick, and the plant specialist isn't back til Tuesday, so it's a stick I need you to run some tests on."
"Fine. But-"
Nick raised a hand to defend himself from the truly horrendous puns he knew were coming. "Nonono, no stick jokes. Just you and the nice machine, okay?"
Greg sighed and started prepping. "Okay." He flashed a grin over his shoulder. "Later, though?"
Nick grinned back. "Later, there can be stick jokes."
He patted Greg's shoulder and left, but Greg's parting "all right!" lingered all day.
----
The Sentinel, cones, for jekesta
"Blair!"
Blair obligingly stuck his head out of his room and said "What's up?" Jim blinked, and wondered again how he'd ended up sharing his house with a man who would keep his curls out of his face with a headscarf, let alone a headscarf with what had to be one of the least Sentinel-friendly patterns he'd ever seen in his life. It was like somebody had given an Impressionist a whole load of LSD.
"There's these tiny cone things all over the floor in the bathroom, Chief. They wouldn't be anything to do with you, would they?" He was pretty sure at this point that the hard-ass cop routine didn't actually work with Blair any more, if it ever really had, but hey, a man could try.
"Cone things?... Oh! Yeah, sorry, man, I was trying out this really wild piece of ritual cleansing I was reading about - it's kind of like smudging but anyway, it uses these crystals, and I know it bugs you that I still think it's cool, but man, you can see those? I cleaned up as well as I could and I didn't see anything left. If we've got any cleaner I can have another go."
Jim, who had been planning on very firmly telling him to do exactly that, put a dishtowel back in its drawer instead. "Nah, it's all right. What do you want for dinner?"
----
Now I should go and do stuff, cause I am currently being paid to do some transcription work for a friend of mine and who knew, it's actual, y'know, work. (I suddenly have a whole load of respect for all the researchers I know who deal with such things a lot. Why must people insist on talking quietly and mumbling and repeating things weirdly and coughing into the microphone? Whhhyyyyy?)