Saturday: Special Free For All
Dec. 19th, 2009 02:05 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
havenward.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficHey guys! Thanks so much for participating in our contest this week. We'll get back to you with results as soon as we can.
In the meantime, to celebrate our quarterly contest, and with the holidays going on and still to come, today will be a special free for all. That means all fandoms, pairings, and prompts are welcome today.
Please remember to follow the rules though.
-No spoilers in your prompts until at least one week after airing/publication date. If there's spoilers in your story, please warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.
-No more than 5 prompts in a row, no more than 3 prompts per fandom. Once one of your prompts has been answered, you can prompt again.
-Please remember to thank whoever fills your prompts!
-And please format your prompts properly. For example:
If you don't see anything you like, feel free to head here and check out the Lonely Prompts.
Ready? Let's rock!
In the meantime, to celebrate our quarterly contest, and with the holidays going on and still to come, today will be a special free for all. That means all fandoms, pairings, and prompts are welcome today.
Please remember to follow the rules though.
-No spoilers in your prompts until at least one week after airing/publication date. If there's spoilers in your story, please warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.
-No more than 5 prompts in a row, no more than 3 prompts per fandom. Once one of your prompts has been answered, you can prompt again.
-Please remember to thank whoever fills your prompts!
-And please format your prompts properly. For example:
White Collar, Peter/Elizabeth/Neal, pinstripe and silk
Glee/Castle, Alexis/author's choice, all the world's a stage
If you don't see anything you like, feel free to head here and check out the Lonely Prompts.
Ready? Let's rock!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 04:15 pm (UTC)He knows he shouldn't keep going back to see her, but he does anyways.
He still remembers the way she was on the TARDIS, all warm curves and forceful hugs and teasing smiles, and while he wasn't interested then, there's something about the unattainable that he can't shake.
So he keeps going back, just to watch her and make sure she's doing okay, because he knows the Doctor won't.
The only time she ever caught him out, she gave him a very blatant once over and a coy smile that would normally be enough incentive for him. But it's the blank look in her eyes, the lack of the spark that was there the first time they met, that makes him hold back.
So when she comes up to him and asks him for his name and a drink, it nearly kills him that the best he can offer is a sad smile. "Don't," he says regretfully, unable to resist touching her cheek lightly before backing away. "Just.... don't."
He knows he shouldn't keep going back, but he can't help himself. Someone once taught him that nothing is impossible, and if anyone is going to blindside him and do what is highly unlikely, it's going to be the unsuspecting woman who saved the world and doesn't know it.
And when that day comes, he wants to be there.
After all, the third time's the charm, and who is he to argue with superstition?
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-17 07:38 am (UTC)After his last punch is thrown he hears another one, but all his marks are down. The punch turns into a shuffle of noise in his ear and he quickly disengages from his stance and starts running toward where he last knew where Parker was.
Where she should be.
He hears her grunt then nothing.
“Parker, I’m on my way. Just run away. Find a place to hide,” he huffs out while running.
“Already trying to do the last part,” she breaths out, “but he keeps-,” Spencer hears a rather girly scream. It pushes his feet faster. He doesn’t bother talking any more.
He turns another corner just as the familiar sound of a dessert eagle being cocked resonates through his head.
“Parker, just run!” He yells, directing attention to himself.
The goon with the gun is standing over Parker, gun aimed at her center of mass, and Spencer does the stupid thing of making sure the focus of attention is on him.
She kicks up into the man’s groin, and he topples over her.
Three more steps and Spencer has the man in a choke hold, quickly modifying it to take the man into unconsciousness, not to Death’s door.
“You okay, Parker?”
“Shiny.” She tilts her head, “you okay?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“I mean, you look…angry.” She gets up with a hand from Spencer, “you always look all stoney face when you fight, but here you look…mean.”
“I just don’t like hearing you in trouble,” he says motioning to his ear.
“Me either.”
He nods.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-20 12:25 am (UTC)He waits until everyone has gone before approaching the freshly distrusted dirt. Walking feet behind with eyes still stained red and for once silent Donna carries a single flower. This, saying goodbye and the human custom of grieve wasn't something the Doctor did. For him death was sad, sometimes it was emotionally devastating, but he accepted it. Often by moving on to a new adventure to vain attempt to make the death worth something. Thanks to Donna there wasn't any running this time, he knew she needed this moment.
"He was so young. I mean couldn't you make an exception?" This conversation had already taken place, moments after the incident occurred. With Donna cradling the child, Billy he'd later learn in her arms.
"I'm sorry, I can't."
"Can't or won't!? What's the point in traveling in TIME if you can't stop something like that?!"
"It's not that simple. Everything is aligned in the universe and going back to save him would effect that." He isn't surprised when she quickly spins on her heels and walks away, searching the gravestones.
"What if it was me?"
"But it wasn't."
"It could have been! If that creature had a hold of me, choking me until I died, would you go back and correct it? Would you!?"
"No." He barely whispers it and finds himself tearing up.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:29 am (UTC)Birthday Surprises
Date: 2010-08-05 01:14 pm (UTC)"So, Dex, what's in the package- something from your girlfriend" Vince said while Angel-no-relation walked up behind him.
"Who's it from, Dexter?" Angel-no-relation asks. Dexter blinks down at the bow, he actually doesn't know who it's from, the officer never gave him a name and there seems to be no card on the package anywhere.
"I wanna see what you got bro!", Deb calls from her desk "Open it over here" He really doesn't want to open it out in the open, but he if refuses he'll look suspicious. He walks over to Deb's desk and sits the package down before delicately pulling the blood-red bow to open his gift.
"Holy shit" Deb says as he pulls a head and a hand out of the box. Angel-no-relation yells for forensic and Vince tells him that they were right here, but neither of them attempt to take the body parts out of his hand. He sees a note at the bottom. He reads it before the Dark Passenger laughs lowly in his head for the both of them.
Happy Birthday! I hope you find your gifts handy.
Love,
Ken
Re: Birthday Surprises
From:Re: Birthday Surprises
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:29 am (UTC)Things overheard in a 7Eleven
Date: 2009-12-19 01:22 pm (UTC)"I am giving Thanks to the Lord for this bounty we are about too recieve"
"Dude, this is a 7Eleven. I seriously doubt God gives a damn about burritos."
"God is omnipotent, Dean, he very much cares about everything, even the Burritos."
"Yeah, well, if God's so concerned about snacks maybe he could summon up some Coke Zero, 'cause it looks like they're out"
"Don't blasphem, Dean. And there's some of your beverage right there" The trenchcoat wearing one said as he gestured to a display.
"Hey! how did I not see this!" He said as he loaded up on several bottles.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways" Trench coat said as the moved to the cash to pay.
After they had gone, the cashier turned to her co-worker and said "Why do we always get the freaks?"
"At least they were cute" said the other one and shrugged.
Re: Things overheard in a 7Eleven
From:Re: Things overheard in a 7Eleven
From:Re: Things overheard in a 7Eleven
From:Re: Things overheard in a 7Eleven
From:Re: Things overheard in a 7Eleven
From:Re: Things overheard in a 7Eleven
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 04:53 pm (UTC)"Nothin' but m'bones," He says to Jim the first time they meet, plucking at the lapels of his worn jacket, and it's true. He can remember the slam of the door, made particularly musical by the shattering crash of the empty bottle it dislodged. He can remember the twisted lips of his ex-wife, the serious, sorrowful eyes of his little girl staring up at him from behind glass, venetian blinds more like iron bars.
"For God's sake, Nancy!" He burst out. "Y'break m'heart, least you could do is give me back the broken pieces!"
The communicator at his side beeped. He cast a last glare at the door and answered it.
"I want you off my stoop and off my planet, Leonard H. McCoy," she snarled. "Leave the comm. I never want to hear your voice again." And with a click, she was gone.
The click was the worst, worse than the slam and the crash and the snarl, subdued and everyday and final. He ran a shaky hand over his face and dropped the comm, stepping off the stoop and kneeling at the window.
His daughter looked up at him with wet eyes. He crooked his mouth in a sad smile and pressed his forehead to the glass. "G'bye, sweetheart," he murmured to her, his breath fogging against the window. Cold as Delta Vega, Nancy kept it, an overreaction to the Georgian heat of Epsilon VII. "G'bye, honey. I'll see you soon, okay? I'll see you soon."
And he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled off into the evening, a sort of weary sadness taking hold in his very bones.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-04-25 09:41 pm (UTC)“Raise,” the angel echoed, not bothering to check his cards. Dean scowled at him over the tops of his own cards, then tossed a single candy into the pile.
“Match,” he sighed. Cas didn’t raise again, so he tossed down his cards, face up, onto the bed they were playing on.
Castiel nodded at Dean’s hand. Two tens, two kings and an ace. Not the worst hand he’d had all day, but not the best, either. Flipping over his own cards, the angel spread them out. Four twos and an eight.
“Dammit, Cas!” the hunter muttered, his voice muffled as he pulled his undershirt off, leaving him in his boxers and one sock. “I only taught you how to play poker two days ago! Why am I almost naked when you’re only missing your shoes and your tie?!”
Admiring the view subtly as Dean’s toned chest was revealed, Castiel shrugged. “I had good incentive,” he explained, scooping the jelly beans over to his side of the bed and returning the cards to the deck to be shuffled again.
Dean gaped for a moment, then grinned, tossing his shirt aside. “You’d think you’d have incentive to lose a bit more often, too, wouldn’t you?”
The angel raised an eyebrow, considering Dean’s words. “I suppose I would. Would you like to shuffle this time?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dean said, accepting the deck. “You going to lose this round?”
“Only if you let me win the next time,” the angel replied.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-21 05:09 am (UTC)“W-w-what are you doing?” Dean manages to ask through chattering teeth.
“Your body temperature is dangerously low. I am warming you up,” Castiel explains, brisk in tone and action.
Dean feels like a hunched up old man, quivering and weak, but he can’t seem to help himself. He didn’t counted on the rain being quite so cold and the angry spirit taking quite so long to go down, and then getting lost on the way back to the Impala hadn’t helped matters any either. Honestly, he was starting to worry a little when he slipped and skid into the mud puddle and getting up wasn’t as easy as he thought it should be. Since he and Sam separated things are different. He has to be more careful hunting on his own.
When Castiel reaches for his belt and begins unbuckling it, Dean draws back with a, “Whoa, pardner! No one gets near the goods unless he’s a she. Or, you know, me.” He plucks at his sodden jeans with his jerking fingers, but he can’t make them work the buttons for the life of him.
“Your virtue is safe with me,” Castiel says dryly and smacks Dean’s hands away. Deftly, he unbuttons Dean’s jeans and slides them and his briefs down his thighs in one rough motion.
When he bends to untie Dean’s muddy boots, Dean finds himself looking down at the angel’s head, hair glistening with silver raindrops from the brief time he spent in the elements.
“How did you know I was in trouble?” Dean asks, genuinely curious.
Castiel looks up, seeming to gauge whether to tell him the truth or not.
“What?” Dean demands. “Tell me!”
“I was able to feel your distress. When it seemed apparent that you were in trouble, I came to you.”
“You were able to feel my distress? Does that mean you read my mind all the time?” The thought has never occurred to Dean, and he happens to find it quite alarming. Because, dude, he’s pretty sure he thinks about a lot of stuff that angels shouldn’t even know about.
“More or less,” Castiel says, looking a bit sheepish at the admission.
“But there have been plenty of times when I’ve gotten beat up and thrown into walls and stabbed with pens and shit and you haven’t shown up. What happened then? Were you just too busy to help me out?”
Castiel finishes undoing Dean’s boots then, takes them off, and pulls Dean’s pants off completely. Dean is finding it rather difficult to be outraged while standing pale and naked under Castiel’s stony eye. It’s even more difficult when Castiel grabs a fluffy comforter from one of the beds and drapes it around Dean’s shoulders, bundling him up nice and toasty. Like a three-year-old.
“Yes, sometimes I was too busy battling the legions of darkness, if you must know. Other times I was not aware of the gravity of your situation. This time was different.”
Dean sits on the bed, grateful that the shivering is starting to subside. And even more grateful that his twig and berries are no longer exposed for any old angel to cast a gander at. “How so?”
“This time my focus was on you very clearly. That happens when someone is being prayed for as Sam has been praying for your safety.”
Dean is stunned. He sits for a moment, feeling a blush creep up his neck. “Sam’s been praying for me?”
Castiel sits on the bed opposite Dean. “Yes, most diligently. Ever since the two of you parted ways.”
“I … wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t know he still does that. Prays.”
“He does. Frequently, these days. Though I am cut off from heaven I can still hear him when he calls on me.”
“Oh,” Dean says, then falls silent. After a moment, he clears his throat and says, “Thanks for saving me and bringing me here and … stuff.”
Castiel smiles. “You’re welcome for saving you and … stuff.”
Then, in a swirl of wings he’s gone. Dean is left with the silence and stillness of his room. Now, though, he feels something unusual. It takes him a moment to puzzle out what that is. He feels well-cared for.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 08:53 am (UTC)"Like the sweet apple that reddens
At end of the bough--
Far end of the bough--
Left by the gatherer's swaying,
Forgotten, so thou.
Nay, not forgotten, ungotten,
Ungathered (till now)." - Sappho
no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 09:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 09:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 09:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 10:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 10:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 10:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-19 10:45 am (UTC)