WIP Snippets Post
Because I have the worst case of writer's block ever and maybe sharing some of these will motivate me to get them done...
Untitled - Glee, Mike/Sam, PG-13ish. For crackedaglet , who wanted to see Mike/Sam anything, basically. Spoilers through BIOTA.
Mike didn't tend to waste words, and saw no reason to start now. "Tina wants to see me make out with a guy."
Silence descended awkwardly on the two of them; Sam cast his eyes around to make sure no one had heard, but the hallway was full of students trying to get to their next class, most of whom couldn't care less about Mike's startling revelation. Sam scratched behind his ear as he finally said, "Well, um. Good for you?"
"So I thought I should ask you," Mike continued brightly.
Sam's eyes darted back and forth like a caged animal's, searching for a way out. "Um. Why was that? Couldn't you talk to Kurt instead?"
Mike sighed. "I thought about it, but he's over at Dalton, so. I asked Quinn instead, and she said you'd be our best bet. Not," Mike added hastily as Sam got a murderous look in his eyes, "because she wanted to get revenge on you after you dumped her or something like that, but because she said you were the best kisser out of all her boyfriends."
Sam blinked, feeling an odd surge of pride despite himself. "Yeah?"
Mike nodded. "Yeah. Plus, she has a theory that you're a little bi-curious, which Santana would be totally cool with. I've already cleared it with her, too."
Sam bit his lip; had he really been that obvious? Okay, so yes, he might have been checking Kurt out a little bit when the guy came to talk to him in the shower, but in all fairness, it had totally been mutual. And maybe he'd given more thought to Puck's constant jokes about his mouth than he should have, but…
In front of him, Mike arched an eyebrow. "So was Quinn right? Not that it's any of my business."
Sam scratched behind his ear again. "Well, what about you? You're just totally fine with, you know. Kissing a dude just because your girlfriend wants you to?"
Mike shrugged. "I've just done whatever felt right. Labels don't really matter to me." A bit of pink tinged his cheeks as he looked down and said, more quietly, "And I'd want it to be you."
The two of them were quiet for another moment; then Sam held out a hand. "All right. I'm in."
Mike looked surprised as he grasped Sam's hand and shook it. "Just like that? Tina thought I'd have to bribe you with, like, tickets to the Avatar re-release or something."
"That already came out on DVD in November," Sam said with a laugh as he let go. "Get Fox to release the 3D Blu-Ray version and then we'll talk."
Mike blinked. "I have no idea what that means."
"I figured," Sam sighed. "So, what, should we meet in the choir room after glee?"
Mike nodded. "Sounds good. I'll let Tina know." He turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. "Sam… thanks."
Sam laughed again. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you in glee."
(LATER)
Sam made a big show of putting his guitar away and messing with the straps on the case as the rest of the club filed out of rehearsal, which had been nothing short of a disaster. Rachel and Finn had spent all of their time arguing, so much so that Rachel had eventually dragged Mercedes up out of her seat for an impromptu rendition of "What is This Feeling?" from Wicked, with Rachel glaring daggers at Finn the entire time she sang. Mr. Schuester had tried unsuccessfully to reign things back in, which only prompted more arguing until he'd dismissed everyone with a kind of "Resistance is futile" gesture.
It got to the point where Sam was seriously looking forward to "getting his mack on", as Santana would say, just so he could get his mind off rehearsal.
Then he wondered when exactly he'd become so okay with kissing Mike that thoughts like that were normal.
Santana was the last to leave, smirking devilishly at Sam; she held up her phone and gestured to it, mouthing, "Take pictures," and Sam did his best not to react to it. He apparently failed, though, because Santana's smirk grew wider as she closed the door shut behind her, waving airily through the window before she waltzed off.
Now Tina, Mike and Sam were the only ones left in the room.
Mike clasped his hands together, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. "Well, um. Let's get to it, I guess."
He hopped out of his seat and picked it up, depositing the chair in the center of the choir room, before he went back and grabbed two more, placing them in front of the first so that they were facing each other. He then went and held out his hand to Tina, bowing theatrically. "Your throne awaits, m'lady."
Tina giggled as she was pulled out of her seat and Mike walked her over to the first chair. She sat primly, but the anticipatory gleam in her eyes gave her away. "Why thank you, Mike. Now, Sam, if you could?"
---
Muahaha, cut it off right as things were about to get juicy! It's not intentional, I swear. That's literally all I have.
Archetypes - Glee, gen, PGish. For a fluff meme prompt that wanted to see Finn's drunk guy archetypes in addition to the girls. Also spoilery for BIOTA.
"Ugh," is Kurt's oh-so-eloquent thought as he sits down beside Finn after Blaine and Rachel's second run-through of "Don't You Want Me, Baby." The two of them have been exchanging flirty looks all evening, and Kurt Does Not Like It. Why couldn't it have been one of the straight boys who decided to have a little sexuality crisis?
"Something wrong, little bro?" Finn asks, elbowing him gently.
Kurt covers his face with his hand. "I've told you to stop calling me that. For God's sake, I'm older than you are."
"Yeah," says Finn, before thumping his chest self-importantly, "but I am much more mature."
Kurt stares at him for a full five seconds before replying, "I'm going to just pretend I never heard that and move the conversation along. Why are you just sitting here?"
"Dude, watching drunk people is the best part of being sober at a party," Finn explains, gesturing to the wide expanse of Rachel's basement, where alcohol-infused chaos continues to reign. "You missed it, I was totally explaining the drunk-girl archetypes to Rachel earlier. I'm not sure she heard much of it, though. She's pretty far gone."
"Tell me about it," Kurt says, eyeing Rachel, who's currently sitting in a corner with Blaine and harmonizing with him (badly) on Enrique Inglesias' "Tonight". "I had no idea you even knew what 'archetypes' meant, let alone how it could be applied to the situation."
"Picked it up from you a few weeks ago," Finn says, giving him a wink. "She left before I could get to the best part, though: The drunk-guy archetypes."
Kurt eyes Finn, who's staring at him hopefully, as if he's begging Kurt to ask the question; finally he sighs, and says, "Tell me, Finn. What are the drunk guy archetypes?"
Finn bounces in his seat happily as he points. "Well, you've already seen Blaine. He's what's known as the spastic drunk. He's all over the place, all the time."
Blaine underscores this perfectly by getting to his feet and promptly falling over; Rachel guffaws and helps him up, whereupon he makes a large sweeping gesture with his hand and smacks Tina in the face. Far from getting angry, Tina simply collapses into giggles and falls on the floor, where Mercedes joins her, and the two of them laugh it out.
Kurt arches an eyebrow. "I've noticed."
"And then you get to Artie," Finn says, pointing again, "the pimpin' drunk."
---
There was more, but all of Artie's pimp dialogue is laughably bad so I don't think I'll be sharing that.
In a Coat He Borrowed from James Dean - Glee, Finn/Kurt, PG-13. There was a meme prompt somewhere that wanted to see Sue setting up Kurt, her head cheerio, and Finn, the football captain. Because of course they must date. It is The Rules.
Finn Hudson was feeling good about today.
Okay, so maybe it was partway through junior year and he still hadn’t made any headway whatsoever on any of the college stuff. And maybe he and Rachel were off-again after just being on-again after last week. And maybe he’d had to dodge a slushie or two from Karofsky and Azimio on the way to first period.
But, hey. Football season was about to wrap and they surprisingly had not been that terrible this year; the partition at Kurt’s house was finished and he’d moved into his own room at last; and he hadn’t gotten any shaved ice on his shirt, so.
So far, Finn was counting this day as a win.
Of course, when he’d finished digging his textbook out of his locker only to have it slammed shut like the fist of an angry god, revealing one certain Sue Sylvester standing right next to him, the day’s prospects were suddenly looking a lot less promising.
(Finn knew hanging out with Kurt would have one advantage, though: he’d radically improved his vocabulary.)
“H-hi, Miss Sylvester,” he gulped, trying not to look away as her gaze bore into him. He was the only one she could look properly in the eye; everyone else, she glared down on, rather terrifyingly. In fact, even though they were the same height, it somehow seemed like she was glaring down at him, too.
“Hello there, monkeyface,” Sue eventually spat, which, hey. Unfair. Finn liked his face. “I am in mid-pursuit of my annual attempt to ensure that my Cheerios rule over this school like Medusa ruled over Greece until that insolent Perseus had to go and cut her down, and I require some assistance from you in that regard. Of course, you understand that according to the school hierarchy, cheerleaders must date football players. It is in the rules. And so far, every single one of my Cheerios has at least one of you meaty jock types wrapped around their little finger. Except for one, and that is the recently appointed cheer captain, Kurt Hummel.”
Finn blinked. “So... so you want me to help you find Kurt a date?”
Sue smirked, and that was somehow even more terrifying than her glare. “A worthy attempt at equalization, Donkey Kong, but no. I am far, far, more adequate than yourself to judge what does and does not meet the standards of our resident piece of fruit.” (That meant Kurt, Finn supposed.) “In fact, some might say that I’m even more fit to judge than he is. It is not opinion, it is fact.”
“So... you don’t want my help?”
“I didn’t say that either. Walk with me, [nickname]. I have a proposition for you.”
Finn, not taking his eyes off of Sue for fear she might sprout fangs or something when his back was turned (hey, Sue could be a vampire. It’d explain a lot), eventually fell into step beside her.
“Given that Kurt Hummel is the captain of the Cheerios, naturally his dating prospects must be held to a higher standard than the rest of the team,” Sue remarked, conversationally, before looking over at Finn. “He is the star of our squad. And what is the equivalent of that amongst you jocks? Why, the quarterback, of course.”
Finn stopped in his tracks. “Wait. What?”
“Oh yes, [nickname],” Sue said, stepping in front of him. “You are the best match by default. And this means that you are going to date Kurt Hummel, and you will make him the happiest glitterface on the planet so that his performance is subsequently enhanced. And if this does not happen, then you must face the wrath of one Sue Sylvester. Did you ever wonder why they found Saddam Hussein in such a despicable hellhole when they finally tracked him down, and not in a more luxurious location befitting a merciless dictator such as he?” Sue leaned in very, very close to Finn and said, lowly, “It’s because I put him there.”
“You... you want me to date Kurt?” Finn asked, panicked, trying to keep his voice down (because if word got out about this, he’d never hear the end of it). “Miss Sylvester, I can’t do that. Kurt’s, like, almost my stepbrother, it’d be weird. Plus, I kinda have a thing going on with Rachel, and I’m... well, I’m not...”
Sue crossed her arms and waited, unusually patient. When Finn trailed off, she smirked again. “The fact that you could not complete that sentence tells me volumes about your hangups on your sexuality. You needn’t worry, Mr. Hudson. Ladyface, for whatever torturous, insane reason that I can’t be bothered to deduce, already has some measure of affection for you. This, among other things - your social status being prime among them - ensures that you are clearly boyfriend material for our captain; although you are slightly dull in the head. And by ‘slightly’, I mean, ‘significantly almost to the point of de-evolution.’ ”
Finn frowned. He was pretty sure he’d just been insulted. Like, a lot.
“These flaws notwithstanding, this arrangement will work. I am Sue Othello Sylvester, and I am never wrong. And, perhaps most important of all, I get what I want.”
She clapped him on the shoulder and brushed past him. “You’ll be hearing from me shortly, James Dean.”
Finn watched her go, deeply unsettled.
---
I liked this one well enough, but ended up abandoning it because it was way too similar to fakeplasticsnow's "Sue Sylvester, Matchmaker". Sue's dialogue is incomplete because that's how I write her - I come up with the basic idea of what she's trying to say, then go back in and re-work it to include elaborate pop culture references, devastating nicknames, and an all-around tone of superiority.
...Writing Sue is a lot harder than I thought it'd be.
Untitled - Twilight, Jacob/Seth, PG-13. Originally for twilightbigbang, but abandoned after I got too busy with school and couldn't finish it. Also, I've never read a Twilight book barring random excerpts from cleolinda's recaps, so... there's that.
Well, this isn’t good, Jacob thought.
He was in his wolf form, crouched low, ready to spring. Surrounded on all sides by palefaces, teeth glinting in the midafternoon sun as they smirked at him. The effect would have been intimidating, but the sunlight was also causing them to glitter, which was not nearly as threatening, and Jacob huffed out a laugh. One of them caught the thought and, emboldened, he lunged forward, arms outstretched.
Going purely on instinct, Jacob dodged the leech and headbutted it, and the vampire flew back, propelled into a nearby tree. The action, though, had set off the rest of the leeches, and as a group, they enclosed on him. Jacob crouched low, curled within himself - and shifted back to his human form.
In an instant, he stood up and threw both of his arms out. The sudden movement caught two of the leeches and they both went down. Four left. Jacob spun, lashing out with a kick, hitting one square in the chest. She let out an oof and fell to the ground as well.
Three left. One lunged, wrapping his arms around Jacob’s chest, trapping him. Jacob snarled and shifted back to his wolf form; the leech scrabbled for a grip and Jacob thrust his hind leg backward, kicking the vampire off of him.
Jacob spun to face the last two. They were both smiling, eyes sparkling with mirth as they circled around him. Jacob let out another growl. This would be hard; the girl could sense what was coming, and her mate felt what she felt. They would always be one step ahead.
Jacob! came a shout in his head, and both of the leeches’ eyes whipped to above Jacob.
Too late, though: Another wolf came bearing down on them, snarling, and before the leeches could blink they were both pinned, each trapped under one of Seth’s heavy paws.
Gotcha, he thought mischievously.
Underneath him, Alice and Jasper started to laugh. “All right, you got us, now get off,” Alice said, swatting at Seth’s massive paw playfully, and Seth obliged, stepping to the side and shifting back into his human form.
From where he had hit the tree, Edward straightened up and dusted himself off before reaching behind it and pulling out a couple of faded pairs of shorts, tossing them to Seth and Jacob, who had shifted back as well. “That was very good,” Edward said, as Jacob pulled them on.
Jacob smirked. “Really, did you expect anything less?”
“No, but if you want to be technical, you sort of cheated,” Emmett remarked offhandedly, helping Rosalie to her feet; she huffed and stormed away, back towards the house. “This was supposed to be your fight, Jacob.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask Seth to join in,” Jacob said, hands raised. “He beat Alice and Jasper all on his own.”
“Regardless.” Despite himself, Emmett grinned and pulled Seth into a one-armed hug, mussing his short hair despite the other boy’s protests. “Not like we’re unhappy to see him, though.”
“Stop that!” Seth shouted, but he was smiling as he wrestled free from Emmett’s grasp. (Jacob was pretty sure that Emmett let him go, because as strong as Seth was, Emmett had a good number of years on him.) “You can’t treat me like that anymore, you know. I’m an adult.”
“You’re eighteen,” Edward pointed out. “That hardly qualifies.”
“Yeah, and since we don’t age unless we stop wolfing, technically you’re still fourteen,” Jacob said, smirking, and Seth stuck his tongue out in response.
---
Yes, I wrote Twilight fanfic. Sue me. (Sue Sylvester me? BAZING.)
Also, while digging through my hard drive for all this stuff, I found an old Chronicles of Narnia story I hadn't touched since... 2006, I think. And I was like "Oh, cool, I'll include it," but then I read through it and it was downright embarrassing, so I nixed that idea. :P
Here's hoping I get at least some of this stuff done someday!
Untitled - Glee, Mike/Sam, PG-13ish. For crackedaglet , who wanted to see Mike/Sam anything, basically. Spoilers through BIOTA.
Mike didn't tend to waste words, and saw no reason to start now. "Tina wants to see me make out with a guy."
Silence descended awkwardly on the two of them; Sam cast his eyes around to make sure no one had heard, but the hallway was full of students trying to get to their next class, most of whom couldn't care less about Mike's startling revelation. Sam scratched behind his ear as he finally said, "Well, um. Good for you?"
"So I thought I should ask you," Mike continued brightly.
Sam's eyes darted back and forth like a caged animal's, searching for a way out. "Um. Why was that? Couldn't you talk to Kurt instead?"
Mike sighed. "I thought about it, but he's over at Dalton, so. I asked Quinn instead, and she said you'd be our best bet. Not," Mike added hastily as Sam got a murderous look in his eyes, "because she wanted to get revenge on you after you dumped her or something like that, but because she said you were the best kisser out of all her boyfriends."
Sam blinked, feeling an odd surge of pride despite himself. "Yeah?"
Mike nodded. "Yeah. Plus, she has a theory that you're a little bi-curious, which Santana would be totally cool with. I've already cleared it with her, too."
Sam bit his lip; had he really been that obvious? Okay, so yes, he might have been checking Kurt out a little bit when the guy came to talk to him in the shower, but in all fairness, it had totally been mutual. And maybe he'd given more thought to Puck's constant jokes about his mouth than he should have, but…
In front of him, Mike arched an eyebrow. "So was Quinn right? Not that it's any of my business."
Sam scratched behind his ear again. "Well, what about you? You're just totally fine with, you know. Kissing a dude just because your girlfriend wants you to?"
Mike shrugged. "I've just done whatever felt right. Labels don't really matter to me." A bit of pink tinged his cheeks as he looked down and said, more quietly, "And I'd want it to be you."
The two of them were quiet for another moment; then Sam held out a hand. "All right. I'm in."
Mike looked surprised as he grasped Sam's hand and shook it. "Just like that? Tina thought I'd have to bribe you with, like, tickets to the Avatar re-release or something."
"That already came out on DVD in November," Sam said with a laugh as he let go. "Get Fox to release the 3D Blu-Ray version and then we'll talk."
Mike blinked. "I have no idea what that means."
"I figured," Sam sighed. "So, what, should we meet in the choir room after glee?"
Mike nodded. "Sounds good. I'll let Tina know." He turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. "Sam… thanks."
Sam laughed again. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you in glee."
(LATER)
Sam made a big show of putting his guitar away and messing with the straps on the case as the rest of the club filed out of rehearsal, which had been nothing short of a disaster. Rachel and Finn had spent all of their time arguing, so much so that Rachel had eventually dragged Mercedes up out of her seat for an impromptu rendition of "What is This Feeling?" from Wicked, with Rachel glaring daggers at Finn the entire time she sang. Mr. Schuester had tried unsuccessfully to reign things back in, which only prompted more arguing until he'd dismissed everyone with a kind of "Resistance is futile" gesture.
It got to the point where Sam was seriously looking forward to "getting his mack on", as Santana would say, just so he could get his mind off rehearsal.
Then he wondered when exactly he'd become so okay with kissing Mike that thoughts like that were normal.
Santana was the last to leave, smirking devilishly at Sam; she held up her phone and gestured to it, mouthing, "Take pictures," and Sam did his best not to react to it. He apparently failed, though, because Santana's smirk grew wider as she closed the door shut behind her, waving airily through the window before she waltzed off.
Now Tina, Mike and Sam were the only ones left in the room.
Mike clasped his hands together, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. "Well, um. Let's get to it, I guess."
He hopped out of his seat and picked it up, depositing the chair in the center of the choir room, before he went back and grabbed two more, placing them in front of the first so that they were facing each other. He then went and held out his hand to Tina, bowing theatrically. "Your throne awaits, m'lady."
Tina giggled as she was pulled out of her seat and Mike walked her over to the first chair. She sat primly, but the anticipatory gleam in her eyes gave her away. "Why thank you, Mike. Now, Sam, if you could?"
---
Muahaha, cut it off right as things were about to get juicy! It's not intentional, I swear. That's literally all I have.
Archetypes - Glee, gen, PGish. For a fluff meme prompt that wanted to see Finn's drunk guy archetypes in addition to the girls. Also spoilery for BIOTA.
"Ugh," is Kurt's oh-so-eloquent thought as he sits down beside Finn after Blaine and Rachel's second run-through of "Don't You Want Me, Baby." The two of them have been exchanging flirty looks all evening, and Kurt Does Not Like It. Why couldn't it have been one of the straight boys who decided to have a little sexuality crisis?
"Something wrong, little bro?" Finn asks, elbowing him gently.
Kurt covers his face with his hand. "I've told you to stop calling me that. For God's sake, I'm older than you are."
"Yeah," says Finn, before thumping his chest self-importantly, "but I am much more mature."
Kurt stares at him for a full five seconds before replying, "I'm going to just pretend I never heard that and move the conversation along. Why are you just sitting here?"
"Dude, watching drunk people is the best part of being sober at a party," Finn explains, gesturing to the wide expanse of Rachel's basement, where alcohol-infused chaos continues to reign. "You missed it, I was totally explaining the drunk-girl archetypes to Rachel earlier. I'm not sure she heard much of it, though. She's pretty far gone."
"Tell me about it," Kurt says, eyeing Rachel, who's currently sitting in a corner with Blaine and harmonizing with him (badly) on Enrique Inglesias' "Tonight". "I had no idea you even knew what 'archetypes' meant, let alone how it could be applied to the situation."
"Picked it up from you a few weeks ago," Finn says, giving him a wink. "She left before I could get to the best part, though: The drunk-guy archetypes."
Kurt eyes Finn, who's staring at him hopefully, as if he's begging Kurt to ask the question; finally he sighs, and says, "Tell me, Finn. What are the drunk guy archetypes?"
Finn bounces in his seat happily as he points. "Well, you've already seen Blaine. He's what's known as the spastic drunk. He's all over the place, all the time."
Blaine underscores this perfectly by getting to his feet and promptly falling over; Rachel guffaws and helps him up, whereupon he makes a large sweeping gesture with his hand and smacks Tina in the face. Far from getting angry, Tina simply collapses into giggles and falls on the floor, where Mercedes joins her, and the two of them laugh it out.
Kurt arches an eyebrow. "I've noticed."
"And then you get to Artie," Finn says, pointing again, "the pimpin' drunk."
---
There was more, but all of Artie's pimp dialogue is laughably bad so I don't think I'll be sharing that.
In a Coat He Borrowed from James Dean - Glee, Finn/Kurt, PG-13. There was a meme prompt somewhere that wanted to see Sue setting up Kurt, her head cheerio, and Finn, the football captain. Because of course they must date. It is The Rules.
Finn Hudson was feeling good about today.
Okay, so maybe it was partway through junior year and he still hadn’t made any headway whatsoever on any of the college stuff. And maybe he and Rachel were off-again after just being on-again after last week. And maybe he’d had to dodge a slushie or two from Karofsky and Azimio on the way to first period.
But, hey. Football season was about to wrap and they surprisingly had not been that terrible this year; the partition at Kurt’s house was finished and he’d moved into his own room at last; and he hadn’t gotten any shaved ice on his shirt, so.
So far, Finn was counting this day as a win.
Of course, when he’d finished digging his textbook out of his locker only to have it slammed shut like the fist of an angry god, revealing one certain Sue Sylvester standing right next to him, the day’s prospects were suddenly looking a lot less promising.
(Finn knew hanging out with Kurt would have one advantage, though: he’d radically improved his vocabulary.)
“H-hi, Miss Sylvester,” he gulped, trying not to look away as her gaze bore into him. He was the only one she could look properly in the eye; everyone else, she glared down on, rather terrifyingly. In fact, even though they were the same height, it somehow seemed like she was glaring down at him, too.
“Hello there, monkeyface,” Sue eventually spat, which, hey. Unfair. Finn liked his face. “I am in mid-pursuit of my annual attempt to ensure that my Cheerios rule over this school like Medusa ruled over Greece until that insolent Perseus had to go and cut her down, and I require some assistance from you in that regard. Of course, you understand that according to the school hierarchy, cheerleaders must date football players. It is in the rules. And so far, every single one of my Cheerios has at least one of you meaty jock types wrapped around their little finger. Except for one, and that is the recently appointed cheer captain, Kurt Hummel.”
Finn blinked. “So... so you want me to help you find Kurt a date?”
Sue smirked, and that was somehow even more terrifying than her glare. “A worthy attempt at equalization, Donkey Kong, but no. I am far, far, more adequate than yourself to judge what does and does not meet the standards of our resident piece of fruit.” (That meant Kurt, Finn supposed.) “In fact, some might say that I’m even more fit to judge than he is. It is not opinion, it is fact.”
“So... you don’t want my help?”
“I didn’t say that either. Walk with me, [nickname]. I have a proposition for you.”
Finn, not taking his eyes off of Sue for fear she might sprout fangs or something when his back was turned (hey, Sue could be a vampire. It’d explain a lot), eventually fell into step beside her.
“Given that Kurt Hummel is the captain of the Cheerios, naturally his dating prospects must be held to a higher standard than the rest of the team,” Sue remarked, conversationally, before looking over at Finn. “He is the star of our squad. And what is the equivalent of that amongst you jocks? Why, the quarterback, of course.”
Finn stopped in his tracks. “Wait. What?”
“Oh yes, [nickname],” Sue said, stepping in front of him. “You are the best match by default. And this means that you are going to date Kurt Hummel, and you will make him the happiest glitterface on the planet so that his performance is subsequently enhanced. And if this does not happen, then you must face the wrath of one Sue Sylvester. Did you ever wonder why they found Saddam Hussein in such a despicable hellhole when they finally tracked him down, and not in a more luxurious location befitting a merciless dictator such as he?” Sue leaned in very, very close to Finn and said, lowly, “It’s because I put him there.”
“You... you want me to date Kurt?” Finn asked, panicked, trying to keep his voice down (because if word got out about this, he’d never hear the end of it). “Miss Sylvester, I can’t do that. Kurt’s, like, almost my stepbrother, it’d be weird. Plus, I kinda have a thing going on with Rachel, and I’m... well, I’m not...”
Sue crossed her arms and waited, unusually patient. When Finn trailed off, she smirked again. “The fact that you could not complete that sentence tells me volumes about your hangups on your sexuality. You needn’t worry, Mr. Hudson. Ladyface, for whatever torturous, insane reason that I can’t be bothered to deduce, already has some measure of affection for you. This, among other things - your social status being prime among them - ensures that you are clearly boyfriend material for our captain; although you are slightly dull in the head. And by ‘slightly’, I mean, ‘significantly almost to the point of de-evolution.’ ”
Finn frowned. He was pretty sure he’d just been insulted. Like, a lot.
“These flaws notwithstanding, this arrangement will work. I am Sue Othello Sylvester, and I am never wrong. And, perhaps most important of all, I get what I want.”
She clapped him on the shoulder and brushed past him. “You’ll be hearing from me shortly, James Dean.”
Finn watched her go, deeply unsettled.
---
I liked this one well enough, but ended up abandoning it because it was way too similar to fakeplasticsnow's "Sue Sylvester, Matchmaker". Sue's dialogue is incomplete because that's how I write her - I come up with the basic idea of what she's trying to say, then go back in and re-work it to include elaborate pop culture references, devastating nicknames, and an all-around tone of superiority.
...Writing Sue is a lot harder than I thought it'd be.
Untitled - Twilight, Jacob/Seth, PG-13. Originally for twilightbigbang, but abandoned after I got too busy with school and couldn't finish it. Also, I've never read a Twilight book barring random excerpts from cleolinda's recaps, so... there's that.
Well, this isn’t good, Jacob thought.
He was in his wolf form, crouched low, ready to spring. Surrounded on all sides by palefaces, teeth glinting in the midafternoon sun as they smirked at him. The effect would have been intimidating, but the sunlight was also causing them to glitter, which was not nearly as threatening, and Jacob huffed out a laugh. One of them caught the thought and, emboldened, he lunged forward, arms outstretched.
Going purely on instinct, Jacob dodged the leech and headbutted it, and the vampire flew back, propelled into a nearby tree. The action, though, had set off the rest of the leeches, and as a group, they enclosed on him. Jacob crouched low, curled within himself - and shifted back to his human form.
In an instant, he stood up and threw both of his arms out. The sudden movement caught two of the leeches and they both went down. Four left. Jacob spun, lashing out with a kick, hitting one square in the chest. She let out an oof and fell to the ground as well.
Three left. One lunged, wrapping his arms around Jacob’s chest, trapping him. Jacob snarled and shifted back to his wolf form; the leech scrabbled for a grip and Jacob thrust his hind leg backward, kicking the vampire off of him.
Jacob spun to face the last two. They were both smiling, eyes sparkling with mirth as they circled around him. Jacob let out another growl. This would be hard; the girl could sense what was coming, and her mate felt what she felt. They would always be one step ahead.
Jacob! came a shout in his head, and both of the leeches’ eyes whipped to above Jacob.
Too late, though: Another wolf came bearing down on them, snarling, and before the leeches could blink they were both pinned, each trapped under one of Seth’s heavy paws.
Gotcha, he thought mischievously.
Underneath him, Alice and Jasper started to laugh. “All right, you got us, now get off,” Alice said, swatting at Seth’s massive paw playfully, and Seth obliged, stepping to the side and shifting back into his human form.
From where he had hit the tree, Edward straightened up and dusted himself off before reaching behind it and pulling out a couple of faded pairs of shorts, tossing them to Seth and Jacob, who had shifted back as well. “That was very good,” Edward said, as Jacob pulled them on.
Jacob smirked. “Really, did you expect anything less?”
“No, but if you want to be technical, you sort of cheated,” Emmett remarked offhandedly, helping Rosalie to her feet; she huffed and stormed away, back towards the house. “This was supposed to be your fight, Jacob.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask Seth to join in,” Jacob said, hands raised. “He beat Alice and Jasper all on his own.”
“Regardless.” Despite himself, Emmett grinned and pulled Seth into a one-armed hug, mussing his short hair despite the other boy’s protests. “Not like we’re unhappy to see him, though.”
“Stop that!” Seth shouted, but he was smiling as he wrestled free from Emmett’s grasp. (Jacob was pretty sure that Emmett let him go, because as strong as Seth was, Emmett had a good number of years on him.) “You can’t treat me like that anymore, you know. I’m an adult.”
“You’re eighteen,” Edward pointed out. “That hardly qualifies.”
“Yeah, and since we don’t age unless we stop wolfing, technically you’re still fourteen,” Jacob said, smirking, and Seth stuck his tongue out in response.
---
Yes, I wrote Twilight fanfic. Sue me. (Sue Sylvester me? BAZING.)
Also, while digging through my hard drive for all this stuff, I found an old Chronicles of Narnia story I hadn't touched since... 2006, I think. And I was like "Oh, cool, I'll include it," but then I read through it and it was downright embarrassing, so I nixed that idea. :P
Here's hoping I get at least some of this stuff done someday!