animeartistjo: (heh)
Title: (I'm thinking about one)
Author: [livejournal.com profile] animeartistjo
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Arthur's lost his memories and taking care of him fall to Merlin. Oh, and he's reverted back to his six-year-old self.
Spoilers: Read at your own risk. I've only watched the first two episodes of Merlin, but have read so much fanfiction, I might use things from later episodes too.
Warning: Unbeta'd and written on a whim.


Merlin's out in the stables, oiling Arthur's tack in preparation for tomorrow's hunt when Gwen finds him. He looks up at her abrupt entrance, blue eyes wide, "What--? Gwen, what's wrong?" The bottle of oil and saddle lies forgotten on the dusty floor as he rises to meet the sweaty, disheveled-looking girl.

Gwen clutches his upper arms and still panting harshly from her frantic run, but she manages to gasp the gist of her message, "Arthur... Great hall--"

Merlin takes off running. It's Arthur; there's nothing more he needs to know.



By the time Merlin's made his way to the large hall, only the chaotic aftermath of what's happened remains. Nobles and servants stand in class distinct huddles, whispering behind raised hands, eyes darting suspiciously and worriedly around the hall. Twice the number of knights are in attendance, most of them standing guard and facing out the various exits. The most senior ones, however, stand near the dias in the front of the room, conferring with the nobles that make up Uther's council. Uther Pendragon stands amongst them, but his stony gaze is fixed on Morgana.

Merlin freezes in place.

A little boy clutches Morgana's hand. A very familiar looking little boy with a head of golden hair and blue, blue eyes.

"Arthur," whispers Merlin. As if he heard him, the little boy lifts his solemn gaze from his small feet and fixes upon his manservant.


tbc, yes/no? Suggestions?
animeartistjo: (writing_pen)
I'm tired. It's a very familiar state and unfortunately, I'm only going to hit exhausted before the day is over. After carefully putting away my flashdrive, the 4 gig one with all my class files in it, I quickly change into my uniform, grab my apron from the closet, and am out the door and running to the bus stop just in time to catch the 4 pm 56 to downtown.

Tonight, I'm lucky--the bus driver's not a newbie and I'm walking through Jack's service entrance five minutes before my six-hour shift begins. Jack's there, of course, a toothpick being chewed to splinters where a cigarette would've been three weeks ago. He grunts at me from his stove as I sign in one the beat-up old clipboard. "Cheryl's sick. Called in three hours ago from the hospital--got some kind of food poisoning. You get overtime pay for dinner rush."

The beginnings of a headache tingle, but I manage a smile, "Thanks boss. I'll handle it."

Therese comes through the kitchen doors, sliding three order forms onto the service station, "Oh, good, you're here." She tosses me the form pad, signs out and is gone before I can greet her.

Chris, the short order cook, dumps food onto two plates and deposits them next to two of the order slips, crossing out some of the items, "Hey man, two starters for tables three and six."

Tucking the pad of green paper into my apron, I grab a tray and take the orders out to the dining room. It's mostly empty, thank God. Only four of the ten tables are in use and Kyle, the bus boy, is occupying himself with the front windows. I deliver the fries with a minimum of fuss and head towards the tall redhead, "Hey Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"Cheryl's not going to be here for dinner rush. Would you mind taking care of water requests?"

"Always do, don't I?"

I grin, "I know, but just to be sure."

"Yeah, don't sweat it. Just take the pitcher to my cart."

"Thanks."

The beginning of my shift passes with little trouble. One of the kids at table two spills his juice, but the mother's cool and tells me rather than wasting tons of paper towels trying to take care of what a quick swipe of a washcloth can clean up. Traffic starts to pick up around six and people waiting for sit down dining and to-go orders begin to build up in the waiting area. It's a good thing I'm good with my hands, for I often have bags on to-go hanging from my arms while trays full of appetizers are balanced on top.

Around eight, my worst nightmare shows up: Joseph Anderson and his demonic brood, ages eight to twelve.
animeartistjo: (Squee)
Eating Mom's curry with bread= Om nom nom nom <3

Also, got a spot of writing done:

For aggybird, in hopes of more Greg and Luce love. )

Finally saw the trailer of Slumdog Millionaire after finding out it won several Golden Globes (thanks, [livejournal.com profile] affectingly) and the pretty colors and artistic camera work has me penciling it in for my next free three hour spot.
animeartistjo: (kirara blinking)
HEY GAIS! I ALMOST WROTE PORN. OF OUR FAVORITE VARIETY. BUT. ONLY ALMOST. SHOULD I REALLY MAKE IT R?

Onwards, ho! )
Edit: Okay, I reread it and proofed it--so your eyes won't bleed anymore!

Guardian

Jul. 1st, 2008 07:04 pm
animeartistjo: (Default)
He had only come to be sure, "Natalia, are you certain you want to do this?" He glances at his shivering friend walking beside him. With an internal sigh, he shrugged out of his coat and settled it around her thin shoulders.

She gives him a sheepish smile, "I'm sorry Nick, I'm always so scatter-brained." He shrugs, long used to her tendency to forget the little, important things. "Still, I looked it up in every book and site that's good and true--they'll be here tonight, to take any worthy ones."

He remains silent for a while, the sound of snow crunching beneath their boots loud in the crisp, clear air. "Why do you want to leave so badly?"

"Aw, Nicky, don't take it that way!" She gives him a pleading look; it's an old argument, but one that never lies. "I don't want to leave, I just want to go there." She says "there" with the same reverence the devout say "God" and his worry increases.

"But all your research is all theoretical, yes? There is no guarantee!"

She stops and whirls to face him, his heavy coat shifting to drape around her small form from the motion, "Stop it Nicholas! You know how long, how badly I've wanted to go! We're here and I. Will. Go." Tears giver her blue eyes a metallic tint, and he sees that she's biting her lip, hard, to keep them from falling.

And the argument always ends the same, "Of course, 'Talia."

They are silent again as they walk through the trees, through bright sunlight and dark shadow, their breaths showing white with each exhale.
animeartistjo: (MWAHAHA)
To anyone who reads my babbles, and as a reminder to myself:

If I were to write something titled "Confessions of a Fangirl, Or How I Turned My Best Friend Gay," would anyone actually read it? I was a member of [livejournal.com profile] originalslash, but there were too few posters and those that did post were, unfortunately, not up to my standards. Essentially, I never read anything posted in that com. Would anyone read my original stuff if I'm a total unknown in the fanfiction world?

Idea: Written from third person with the occasional first person about a girl who, like my intended audience, is an avid yaoi/slash fangirl who happens to have a childhood friend who's a quiet, unassuming boy. After reading too much fanfiction featuring fag-hags, her new goal in life, since they'd all already gotten their acceptance letter to the college of their choice, is to set him up with a suitable "top". They arrive to college and the shenanigans begin.
animeartistjo: (Default)
Tom and Jerry anthropomorphied (is that even a word? XD)! One of my major kinks is love/hate relationships, so the classic cat versus mouse stereotype is right up my alley. Picture this, Tom and Jerry have been next-door neighbors since the dawn of time and have been enemies for about just as long. Tom's born of a privileged family while Jerry's not even upper middle class. Tom's a methodical person with set ways and Jerry's erratic thinking and sense of humor irritates him. Jerry, born in a large but happy family does not understand how Tom can be so satisfied with what he sees as an unfulfilling life. The story starts with the boys first year in college, in majors that are polar opposites of each other. Tom's slated for biochemical engineering and one of a legacy while Jerry's a fine arts and English double major and the first in his family to attend college. Tom's already in a frat (which means some research on my part since I've no clue about how frats or sororities work) but Jerry's stuck with his crowded dorm. Both boys are popular in their respective ways, but Tom, like the cat he's based on, is more aloof. I'm sure this is not even borderline Harlequin cliche, but it all fits so perfectly and it's slashed!

Like all great love/hate relationships something drastic has to happen for the boys to see each other as potential love interests. I'm thinking about the typical family emergency/death, holiday blues, tutoring, or just locking the boys up together in a deserted lab.

On a wholly different topic, I know one of my managers at McD's dislikes me, at worst, or thinks I'm some sort of clumsy buffoon at best. Whenever I'm not doing anything, she sends me on extraneous chores while the other two workers get to hang around talking with her. In Spanish. It feels like she's playing favorites and I've never felt like such an inadequate person with any of the other managers. I do know what I'm doing since I have been working at McD's for almost half a year! She's always telling me what to do, even when I'm already starting it or am obviously in the middle of working on something else. For example, I'm cleaning trays and she tells me to restock. If she'd let me finish, I would've done it without any reminding needed! Also, whenever I'm in the back fetching more supplies for the front and a customer shows up, rather than just handling them herself, she calls for me, even when it's apparent that she has nothing to do!

One of the other, kinder managers have quite since he plans to restart school after Christmas break, but he's the one who usually manages the single weekend morning shift I do when school's in session. I'm praying that W's not the one who'll replace him. N's cool, but he does Saturdays while I usually do Sundays. I'm hoping for C, at least, for even though she likes to keep me busy too, she's loads nicer about it. Yesterday, I fell into a sort of blue funk after W made me feel more insufficient than I already did. I sleep four hours right after work, woke for about another five hours, and then slept for another 5 hours. This morning, I still felt tired.

Moving onto another topic, (yes, this post makes up for the previous two days) remember that little writing request I put up last month? Maybe not, since it was so long ago, but [livejournal.com profile] lilian_cho and [livejournal.com profile] darkestnight12 voted for #2 and I've handwritten a few pages! I'll need to type it up and reviser it, but there's progress!
animeartistjo: (Default)
So I had intended to submit something for the Halloween SMP, but never really got further than a start. I'm thinking of continuing (and maybe even finishing!) one of the stories I started, but I'm not sure which one to choose. So flist, if any of you ever actually read my infrequent entries, how about a little help?

Warning for the rl people: It shall end in slash happiness.





Mucho gracias!



animeartistjo: (HPDM)
Draco panted, his breath coming in short, harsh spurts. It hurt. His knees hurt too, from falling hard on the stone floor when the pain had overcame his muscle control.

"Stand up."

The cold voice made him draw from hidden reserves, and the pale boy forced himself to his feet, weaving slightly as his vision became spotted with dark circles. Lucius nodded, and languidly twirled his dark wand around his long, elegant fingers. "Remember, son, that one does not show weakness. Not in front of anyone, even your own family. One exception makes room for more and that is unacceptable of the Malfoy heir."

"I understand, Father." Draco winced at the faintness of his voice.

The slight tightening of the skin around Lucius eyes was the only warning Draco saw before that dark wand swung around to point at him.

"Crucio, boy. Learn to better control yourself."

~*~

"Draco. You must wake. The train leaves in half an hour. Draco."

Draco forced his eyes open to gaze blearily at his mother's worried visage. "I'm awake, Mother." He moved off the bed, unsurprised to see his hands still trembling. Aftereffects of being under one of the Unforgiveables for too long. "Have the house elves finished packing my trunk yet?"

Sadness in her faded blue eyes, Narcissa inclined her head in acknowledgment. "It's waiting in the foyer. The butler will accompany you to the station."

Impulsively, Draco embraced his mother, feeling her fragile form relax slightly within his arms. Softly, so only she could hear the words, Draco whispered, "I'll be fine at Hogwarts, Mother. Please don't worry. I'll be safe there."

Narcissa wrapped her arms around her too-thin son, "I'm sorry Draco. I'm sorry."

"I don't blame you, Mother. I never have and I never will. Just... You be safe too." Draco tightened his grasp.

His mother drew back to plant a small kiss on his forehead. "I will. I wish I could come with you, Draco..."

"It's all right, Mother. I understand." Kissing his mother's soft, lotion-scented cheek, Draco left.

~*~

Note: Thinking of ways for HP and DM to meet on the train. Should one of them be Head Boy? Hermione's Head Girl. Ron's a prefect.

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animeartistjo

November 2011

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