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bored bored bored. have some end of the year memes
first line of fic and lj posts. Conclusion: I write lots of BSG fic. (also, at this rate, the get Sam Anders Laid Promptathon is going to amount to me writing a "ten people Sam never frakked" fic)
Jan: 1. Alive. Yay. Had lots of fun and watched crack!TV, and, um... Gabrielle in Indiana Jones wear? Can I have one?
Feb: Will contain spoilers through Taking a Break, read at own risk, etc.
Mar: Our file drawers are not loose enough, apparently. Despite the fact that you can comfortably get into the files without a problem, I have been ordered to do the stupidest thing EVER. It's going to be a complete waste of my time, AND make filing take TWICE AS LONG afterwards.
Apr: I'll probably update this more, but...
May: I have an evil, yet hot, robot now. She will have to torture Scott and Carter with her blade later. Or maybe stick her fingers in their foreheads.
Jun: 1. I have mopped the frakking kitchen floor. omg.
Jul: ...I did not think it was that late. Although. It means this banner just took me something like five hours.
Aug: So is having SG-1 season ten. However. A couple of quibbles.
Sep: Stupid people need to get off this network so I can read my flist, DAMMIT.
Oct: 1. qwirky stop sending your skwirrl minions to run in front of my car! I like my brakes, but not that much!
Nov: And this place is fucking gorgeous,. OMG. Just. GORGEOUS.
Dec: 1. Collect prompts! Sam needs to get laid. A lot. So, they should go something like... Person to pair him with, and a word/phrase/object for the prompt. example: Kendra Shaw, cookies; And to make it easier for me, if you have more than one prompt for that character, separate it by a comma or a ;, instead of creating a new line. Crossovers are allowed and encouraged, and should go: Crossover: Red Dwarf, Kristine Kochanski, superiority.
Jan: "This is not justice."
Feb: "I don't love you," she says. (Six/Anders, hey, Cujoy, y'know that speculation for season four? http://lyssie.livejournal.com/991893.html though, not so much with the season fourness.)
Mar: Anastasia Dualla had always thought of herself as a good girl. But right at the moment, she wasn't so sure about that.
Apr: There is blood everywhere. So much of it, it stains her pants from blue to black, the material soaking it up as she kneels in it, leaning over him.
May: In a little-known town, in a little-known place (well, once, it was well-known. Now it's less well-known, but that's a condescending rant for another time), there is a building. It can be anything, to anyone, but in general it looks like your generic English Pub from Ye Olde Britain, complete with neatly, ornately-lettered sign which proclaimed 'Subreality Cafe'.
Jun: If it were just sex that Sam wants, you think you could handle that.
Jul: It's a dream.
Sam knows that, but it doesn't help.
Aug: "You're not my wife." (you know, I suppose I should title, disclaimer and make sure this fic is over 1000 words)
Sep: Sam was drunk. Hell, he was more than drunk, he was wasted and knew it. He was walking into tents and ropes and falling into the dirt every couple of steps--he would have been falling into mud, but the rain had been holding off for days, leaving some to worry that the crops they'd planted would wilt. Sam didn't care about crops, right then, he was more worried about being slightly clean by the time he got back home.
Oct: Robert Goren is nervous. From where she's standing, Alex Eames can feel the emotion spilling over--she thinks it might be a leftover piece of broken Bobby from the death of his mother, but it's not something she's prepared to speculate about. Not here and now, at least.
Nov: Watching Kara and Lee as she hugged him and joked with him, Sam realized he and Kara would never
have that sort of connection. Pretty soon, he'd be moving down to New Caprica, to join the other civilians, and Kara... Kara would stay where she belonged, on Galactica, where she could fly with Apollo. She might have come back for Sam, but it hadn't been for love.
Dec: It was mid-afternoon on New Caprica, and somewhere, someone was probably marking them as absent and derelict of duty, or something like that. Maybe they'd even be fined for not getting out of bed to come haul piles of rock and supplies around. Sam Anders didn't really care. He was stretched out next to Kara Thrace, trailing his fingers absently over her abdomen and sometimes brushing her hair back from her face.
Jan: 1. Alive. Yay. Had lots of fun and watched crack!TV, and, um... Gabrielle in Indiana Jones wear? Can I have one?
Feb: Will contain spoilers through Taking a Break, read at own risk, etc.
Mar: Our file drawers are not loose enough, apparently. Despite the fact that you can comfortably get into the files without a problem, I have been ordered to do the stupidest thing EVER. It's going to be a complete waste of my time, AND make filing take TWICE AS LONG afterwards.
Apr: I'll probably update this more, but...
May: I have an evil, yet hot, robot now. She will have to torture Scott and Carter with her blade later. Or maybe stick her fingers in their foreheads.
Jun: 1. I have mopped the frakking kitchen floor. omg.
Jul: ...I did not think it was that late. Although. It means this banner just took me something like five hours.
Aug: So is having SG-1 season ten. However. A couple of quibbles.
Sep: Stupid people need to get off this network so I can read my flist, DAMMIT.
Oct: 1. qwirky stop sending your skwirrl minions to run in front of my car! I like my brakes, but not that much!
Nov: And this place is fucking gorgeous,. OMG. Just. GORGEOUS.
Dec: 1. Collect prompts! Sam needs to get laid. A lot. So, they should go something like... Person to pair him with, and a word/phrase/object for the prompt. example: Kendra Shaw, cookies; And to make it easier for me, if you have more than one prompt for that character, separate it by a comma or a ;, instead of creating a new line. Crossovers are allowed and encouraged, and should go: Crossover: Red Dwarf, Kristine Kochanski, superiority.
Jan: "This is not justice."
Feb: "I don't love you," she says. (Six/Anders, hey, Cujoy, y'know that speculation for season four? http://lyssie.livejournal.com/991893.html though, not so much with the season fourness.)
Mar: Anastasia Dualla had always thought of herself as a good girl. But right at the moment, she wasn't so sure about that.
Apr: There is blood everywhere. So much of it, it stains her pants from blue to black, the material soaking it up as she kneels in it, leaning over him.
May: In a little-known town, in a little-known place (well, once, it was well-known. Now it's less well-known, but that's a condescending rant for another time), there is a building. It can be anything, to anyone, but in general it looks like your generic English Pub from Ye Olde Britain, complete with neatly, ornately-lettered sign which proclaimed 'Subreality Cafe'.
Jun: If it were just sex that Sam wants, you think you could handle that.
Jul: It's a dream.
Sam knows that, but it doesn't help.
Aug: "You're not my wife." (you know, I suppose I should title, disclaimer and make sure this fic is over 1000 words)
Sep: Sam was drunk. Hell, he was more than drunk, he was wasted and knew it. He was walking into tents and ropes and falling into the dirt every couple of steps--he would have been falling into mud, but the rain had been holding off for days, leaving some to worry that the crops they'd planted would wilt. Sam didn't care about crops, right then, he was more worried about being slightly clean by the time he got back home.
Oct: Robert Goren is nervous. From where she's standing, Alex Eames can feel the emotion spilling over--she thinks it might be a leftover piece of broken Bobby from the death of his mother, but it's not something she's prepared to speculate about. Not here and now, at least.
Nov: Watching Kara and Lee as she hugged him and joked with him, Sam realized he and Kara would never
have that sort of connection. Pretty soon, he'd be moving down to New Caprica, to join the other civilians, and Kara... Kara would stay where she belonged, on Galactica, where she could fly with Apollo. She might have come back for Sam, but it hadn't been for love.
Dec: It was mid-afternoon on New Caprica, and somewhere, someone was probably marking them as absent and derelict of duty, or something like that. Maybe they'd even be fined for not getting out of bed to come haul piles of rock and supplies around. Sam Anders didn't really care. He was stretched out next to Kara Thrace, trailing his fingers absently over her abdomen and sometimes brushing her hair back from her face.