If there was one thing Tyra was determined to do before Christmas, it was to set Landry free.

She'd never have that refined way of talkin' like Core girls did.

It was hard for her not to spend a little time agonising over the gift to get T, and the fact she signed the card with love was a habit she had yet to break.

Sometimes just walking through the hallway is like visiting another planet, one where he isn't welcome and doesn't belong.

A very traditional excuse.

Reid's cards the year when he finds those are easy, and usually contain only two words: not me.

Looking out through the window at his snow-covered driveway, Derek realized that he didn't just have a little bit of the pretty white blanket of snow to shovel, he had to push aside a whole mess of snowflakes on steroids.

As he sat in House's office chair while he waited, tossing the large red and grey tennis ball between his hands, Chase knew the holiday was over, and he wasn't just ready to return to work after Christmas... he wanted to return to House's team.

Being merry was like a male orgasm... impossible to fake without looking constipated or leaving some residual mess in your wake.

Fuck candy canes and chocolate, it was damn cold and Silas was using the big fluffy stocking for it's real purpose - his feet, and he was going to fit them both into it if it killed him.

If I was the paranoid sort, I would start thinking Christmas was designed to force people in wheelchairs to lose weight, because there is no way I can make it into that supermarket on wheels and come out alive.

Some people needed the reminder of a white embossed card and a single word inside.

Out of the things Sam managed to save from the fire, the goofy Christmas card Jess gave to him on their first Christmas together still brought a smile to his face as well as a tear to his eye, knowing that there would never be a Christmas like that one for him ever again.

Th-Th-This is...

{She looks terrified at first--it's the classic image of a scared heroine: hands clutched to the chest and mouth, large wibbling eyes...
But that doesn't last long at all. Instead, her eyes become filled with joy and admiration.}

...Wonderful!!! I'm on the Lysithea?! Oh, no, no, it's not quite Voices of a Distant Star. This is more Macross or Crest of the Stars, definitely! Oh, I could even make a Lafiel costume! Ohohoho, that would be a lovely costume, but the white dress would be so much prettier than the uniform...

{She rolls up the piece of paper she was holding, slapping it against her hand}

This is a perfect setting for a wonderful drama! Just think of it, the sight of brave battles as young men all compete in a heated love of their countries and ideals! Oh, there would be tragedy, drama, and perhaps even a love triangle! Yes, the main character is torn between his childhood friend, still residing on Earth (and who is actually a long lost princess!!) and the strong and independent female soldier that he works with! But nothing like Fllay, of course, since that really just is indecent for that kind of time slot. Yes, yes, it's a wonderful idea! I absolutely must tell Kyouya-sama about the appeal of war uniforms and elaborate mechs! Haruhi-kun would have to be the noble and kind-hearted protagonist, of course, but we'll see how everything could work out!

...

But wait, where is "home" anyways? That store was definitely sending off the dark and mysterious type of shop like Yuuko-sama's! But the door is gone too? Yuuko-sama, if this is your shop, I didn't mean to intrude!! I really must get home to Ouran right away, and I don't have a wish.

{But then, seeing you (yes, you) she points her rolled up magazine at you enthusiastically}

Ah, you'll do! You're no Yuuko-sama, but you know the way out, right? Ah, and have you ever considered cosplay...? I think I know a role that would be good for you! ♥

This was the first year he'd ever bothered with Christmas cards.

As he listened to Diana explain every detail of her snow day to him, he unfolded and refolded the cut-out snowflake she had made in art class, wishing more than ever that he were home.

Prompt: 41.9 – Automatic
Muse: Jean-Luc Picard
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Word Count: N/A


“Tea, earl grey, hot” was almost an automatic response when Jean-Luc longed for something familiar, warm and comforting.

Prompt: 314 – Write about a memorable family meal.
Muse: Jean-Luc Picard
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Word Count: 657


Fifteen years when viewed in retrospect could seem a lengthy amount of time to a human. And yet for Jean-Luc it felt as if the fifteen-year span had occurred in what seemed to him a mere blink of an eye. The day had been strangely quiet, routine posts as the Enterprise was in transition to the Neutral Zone to intercept a Klingon vessel for a transport of surviving Federation archeologists found at Verius 4, a star that had unexpectedly imploded and claimed the lives of researchers from several different species. And yet there had been survivors, four from the Federation.

Jean-Luc had never been a man who held a fondness for pomp and circumstance. The quiet of the day had been welcome and well-used. He had read quite a bit, practiced the Ressikan flute and caught up on the latest archeological studies undertaken by the Federation. All in all the day had been lovely by all accounts and purposes, ‘all’ being his.

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They're still a necessary evil.

Archie can hear his English diction clash with the German dialect, though, holding his hopes high, he figures the patrons would be much too drunk to notice.

Crop circles in the sand. The universe always starts with riddles. They’re her downfall, the mysteries. She’s like an object caught in their orbit, endlessly looping them in messy circles, inspecting, taking the pieces of the puzzles in her hands and searching for the shape of how they’re put together.

Sometimes the pieces are made of glass, and they cut her hands. Sometimes– sometimes. But she can’t put them down, because she has to know, and that’s the paradox of her mind, endlessly drawn to that which will hurt her.

This is old. This is ancient, written in hieroglyphs only men with ghosts in their minds and dust on their hands can translate.

( something blue. )


Muse: The Doctor (Eleventh)
Misc Fandom/Doctor Who OC
Word Count: 360
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