Friday Free-For-All
Jan. 8th, 2010 07:26 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
monica-catch22.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficHey, everyone! Welcome to the first full weekend of 2010! As you all know, today is Friday so we have a free-for-all where you can let your imaginations and pairings go wild.
First, brief reminder of the rules:
You may only post 3 prompts per genre
You are free to prompt up to 5 at a time and add more once your prompts start being answered. Just be kind for our codemonkeys and don't go too crazy!
No spoilers in prompts for at least seven days after the original airdate or publication date. If you have spoilers in your fic, please warn in bold and leave at least three spaces.
Please also follow the format as stated below:
Criminal Minds, Morgan/Reid, Lazy Fest
Numb3rs/Stargate: Atlantis, Don/Sheppard, "That thing you do."
If none of the posted prompts catch your eye, feel free to look through our Lonely Prompts archive at delicious.
Happy Friday, people!
tag="freeforall"
First, brief reminder of the rules:
You may only post 3 prompts per genre
You are free to prompt up to 5 at a time and add more once your prompts start being answered. Just be kind for our codemonkeys and don't go too crazy!
No spoilers in prompts for at least seven days after the original airdate or publication date. If you have spoilers in your fic, please warn in bold and leave at least three spaces.
Please also follow the format as stated below:
Criminal Minds, Morgan/Reid, Lazy Fest
Numb3rs/Stargate: Atlantis, Don/Sheppard, "That thing you do."
If none of the posted prompts catch your eye, feel free to look through our Lonely Prompts archive at delicious.
Happy Friday, people!
tag="freeforall"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-04 05:32 am (UTC)At first, it was just whimpering noise. It moved from one side of the bed to the other. Spencer, knowing the source of the noise, sleepily nudged Derek with hit foot, whose only reply was to nudge back with a soft grumble. The whimpering ceased for a moment before a great scratching sounded at the door, compounded with louder whimpering. Derek let out a loud groan and shouted, "Clooney! Knock it off!"
"He wants out, Derek," Spencer yawned, rolling on his back and stretching out his limbs. "He needs to take care of his business."
He looked over at his lover just in time to see him childishly bury his head under his pillow, his words "You let him out!" slightly muffled. Spencer snorted and reached over to hit Derek's pillow, groaning, "It's your dog, not mine!"
Spencer smirked as he felt the bed shift as Derek dragged himself out from under the covers. He heard Clooney scrambling around Derek, who grumbled, "Get down, Clooney! No jumping!"
Spencer reburied himself under the warm covers and tried to block out Derek and Clooney's noisy activities. Then, just as he was about to drift back into full REM sleep, the covers were yanked away from his body. He whined, sitting up and glaring at the end of the bed. Derek stood there, clad in only his boxers, and grumbled, "Get up."
Spencer laid back down and curled into a ball, mumbling, "I will do no such thing. Not put the covers back on the bed."
"No, Spence," Derek yawned. "This is the first time we've been home on a weekend in three weeks. We have to do spring cleaning!"
"No-oo-oo-o!" Spencer yawned, "we need to be lazy and self-indulgent."
It took a moment before Derek asked halfheartedly, "But what about the house work?"
Spencer smirked a little as he sat up and crawled his way down to the edge of the bed. Placing his hands on Derek's shoulders, he licked a stripe up the dark neck, ending it with a small bite underneath Derek's ear, something he knew drove the older man wild. He then brushed his lips against the outer shell of Derek's ear, murmuring, "It can wait."
As if on cue, Derek's hands moved to grip his narrow hips and drag him closer. Spencer gave him another playful nip and Derek growled, "Ahh...hate it when you do that. Makes me feel like I'm agreeing to anything."
Spencer didn't reply, too busy pulling Derek back in the bed for a couple rounds of morning sex.
*Again, hope you enjoyed it!*
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:32 pm (UTC)No Tighter Bond
Date: 2010-01-08 05:28 pm (UTC)"I don't understand why I can't tell you to 'talk about it' when you always want me to talk about it. To accept it, to say it out loud." George says. They're sharing the sofa, George's feet in Mitchell's lap but Mitchell won't look him in the eyes. He stares defiantly at the wall, their postures hiding their anger.
"I didn't rip Herrick apart George." He snaps and tries to move out from under George's feet and stand up. George grabs his wrist.
"Maybe not Herrick. But you've killed before Mitchell. Don't pull that shit." George grounds out the swear through his teeth and Mitchell stops. George tugs at his wrist, pulling him back down onto the sofa.
Annie stands in the kitchen doorway, her hands wrapped around her mug, her shoulders hunched inwards as she tries to be smaller than she is.
"He was your friend Mitchell. Just because he was a bastard doesn't mean you can't grieve." Annie murmurs, just loud enough to be heard. Mitchell covers his face with his hands. He wants to be someone, anywhere but here, with the people he loves asking him questions he doesn't want to answer.
"I don't want to talk about Herrick." He says and shakes off George's hold on his wrist. "Herrick is dead. I never want to talk about him again." In one movement, too fast for George to stop, he stands and heads for the door. Annie sees something in George's eyes and flickers away. Mitchell grabs the door handle. He knows it's cold outside, he doesn't care.
George's hand slams the door shut before Mitchell can even move.
"Has it ever, even occurred to you, that maybe, maybe, you owe this to us! To me! That after I killed a man for you, maybe I deserve to know what he was to you?!" George shouts, uncharacteristically angry this far from the full moon. He's crowding Mitchell, his wolf/man smell burning inside Mitchell's nostrils, Mitchell's eyes flicking black in anticipation of a fight. It would be so easy, in this moment, just to let go. To let all the strength inside him boil over. It would be so easy to shove George back and start a fight. Maybe Mitchell's learning self control or maybe he's just never been one to take the easy path. He surrenders, lowers his head, feels his eyes flick back to human. He doesn't meet George's eyes, because if George wants the truth he must have it now, knowing that Mitchell is ashamed to say this in the presence of a good man.
"Herrick was everything." Mitchell murmurs. George leans back from Mitchell's personal space but Mitchell's hand snakes out, over George's outstretched arm, to his shoulder, holding George there. He cannot say these words with space between them, he cannot let these words pollute the air between them. George doesn't move and Mitchell lets his hand drop. "Herrick was..a father, brother, friend...lover." Mitchell can't, won't, see George's face but he hears the intake of breath. Mitchell spreads his hands in front of him in an almost-apology. "There is no bond tighter than that of creator and created. Herrick made me. Herrick owned me. I am what I am because of Herrick." Mitchell stares at his wide-spread hands and feels, rather than see, George remove his palms from the door.
"Mitchell, I'm sorry..I" George stutters, falling back on old habits and stilted speech.
"I'm glad Herrick's dead. He can't hurt you anymore." Mitchell manages before he turns and flees out the door. Herrick is dead but Mitchell will never be free.
Re: No Tighter Bond
From:Re: No Tighter Bond
From:Re: No Tighter Bond
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 12:37 pm (UTC)Torchwood/White Collar, Jack & Neal, being pretty
Date: 2010-04-26 03:04 am (UTC)If Neal were anyone but himself he would have rolled his eyes. He had been hearing similar lines all night, and not from anyone that he would deem attractive in any physical or intellectual way. Being the actor (con man) that he was, Neal fixed his face into a pleasantly relaxed and interested look before turning towards the speaker. What he saw took him by surprise.
A pair of blue eyes several shades lighter than his own looked down at Neal with a pleasurable twinkle of unmasked mischief. The man's face was strong and square, with perfect lips that curled into a charming smile. Neal returned the smile.
"Well, I could say the same to you," Neal replied, no longer having to fake interest in the handsome stranger.
The man laughed, a deep rumble in his broad chest as he took the bar stool next to Neal. "Name's Captain Jack Harkness. Can I buy you a drink?"
"Neal Caffrey. You can buy me whatever you like, pretty," Neal said with a wink. And Jack gave him another of his pleasant laughs and Neal wondered if this was how women felt when he tried to seduce them.
Re: Torchwood/White Collar, Jack & Neal, being pretty
From:Re: Torchwood/White Collar, Jack & Neal, being pretty
From:Glee; Finn/Kurt; Daydreaming
Date: 2010-05-22 06:56 pm (UTC)Kurt's sitting in the music room before Glee, because he and Mercedes and Quinn were the first to get there. The girls are sitting together, talking about Quinn's pregnancy cravings and their homework assignments. Kurt half-listens while he leafs through a book of sheet music and wonders when the others are going to show up, and what Finn's doing, and comes to the bitter conclusion that Finn's probably still following Rachel around, trying to make her like him.
He scowls to himself just as the door swings open and Finn bursts in and heads straight to where Kurt is standing, next to the piano. Kurt looks up and says in a pleasantly neutral tone, “Yes?”
“Uh, Kurt, can I, um, talk to you for a moment...”
Kurt frowns for a moment. “What about?”
“Uh, it's kinda... private...” Finn says with a glance at the girls.
Curious, Kurt nods. “Sure. Why not,” he says as he walks out into the empty corridor. “What did you want to say?”
Finn looked at him for a moment. “Um. I was thinking... maybe you wanted to... go somewhere. Um. With me. If you want.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Did my dad put you up to this?”
“What? No...”
Kurt sees the way Finn is acting, nervous and twitchy, and he keeps looking around to see if there are any other people nearby. Kurt puts two and two together. “Finn, is this your idea of asking me out?”
“Um. I guess...”
“Anything planned?”
“I was thinking a movie....”
“All right.” Kurt kept it out of his expression, but a small, secret part of his heart burst into song when Finn grinned at his response.
Just then, he heard Mr Schuester greeting everyone, and was jolted out of his daydream. He sat down and looked over at Finn. Finn who was following every movement Rachel made, even though she was sitting with Jesse and not even paying any attention to Finn.
Kurt sighed, and went back to the daydream world where Finn acted like he knew he existed.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 03:20 pm (UTC)* * *
"What do you mean, 'we don't need one'?" Tim said, pulling away from Jason and narrowing his eyes.
Jay only shrugged. "All out."
"How could we be out? We just got a new pack last week!"
Holding up a hand, Jason ticked off his fingers. "Twice on Thursday, thee times on Friday, three on Saturday, and twice on Sunday. Whole pack. And whatever, we're both clean anyway."
Tim's jaw dropped open at that. "Are you nuts? I know where you've been."
And Jason couldn't exactly deny that. Who knew what Talia had been rocking back when she'd had him. "Point," he murmured, before straightening and making room for Tim to get out of bed. "Guess you'd better get moving, then."
"What!? I went for condoms the last time! Your turn, Jay."
Grumbling and scowling, Jason couldn't deny that, either. "Fine, fine," he said, getting up to find a shirt, a pair of pants, and his boots. Quickly dressed, he grabbed the keys to his bike and headed for the door. Over his shoulder he called out, "Anything else while I'm out, dear?"
"Get the fifty-count pack this time," Tim shot back from the bed, before smirking, "and a new bottle of lube. You're gonna need it."
* * *
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:lol
From:Re: lol
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:12 pm (UTC)RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, where else would i be?
Date: 2011-11-13 12:54 pm (UTC)A steady beeping noise woke Christian. His eyes flickered open and he groaned, licking dry lips. Hospital. And everywhere ached. He could feel the IV in the back of one hand, and the other felt tightly gripped. Gingerly he turned his head to the side, wincing at the painful pull of muscles across his shoulder.
Steve was slumped down in the chair, boots kicked off and one arm thrown across his face.
Confusion clouded Christian; how long had he been out of it for? Steve had been in Europe, was gonna be there for a couple of weeks. He squeezed Steve's hand gently, a flash of guilt hitting him as Steve jolted awake with a snort.
Steve's face lit up as his eyes landed on Christian's, relief easing the lines around his mouth. "Hey, you're awake."
"Feels like," Christian croaked.
"Hold on..." Steve frowned and, letting go of Christian's hand, reached over and poured him a glass of water. Christian drank gratefully, slumping back against the pillows with a sigh. "Better?" Steve asked.
"Mmmm. What happened?"
"Drunk driver hit your truck a couple days ago. You hit your head pretty bad. Um.. your mom and dad are just downstairs gettin' some coffee - you want me to go get them?
Christian shook his head, then swore as pain crashed through his skull. "Fuck. No, no." He tightened his grip on Steve's hand, his eyes closed and his jaw clenched as he breathed through the pain. "I'm fine," he insisted when Steve wanted to get a nurse, waves of worry radiating from him. He relaxed long minutes later with a long exhalation and opened his eyes, forcing a smile as he looked at Steve. "What are you doin' here anyway?"
Steve huffed out a laugh and ran his thumb over the back of Christian's hand. "Where else would I be?"
"Um.. you're s'posed to be in Europe. Album launch."
"Why would I be in Europe when you're in hospital in Portland?" Steve leaned over and cupped Christian's cheek in his hand, kissing him softly on the lips. "You must've hit your head harder than I thought," he teased, smiling when Christian pressed a light kiss to the inside of his wrist.
Christian laughed, his eyes sliding closed. "Dork."
"Go back to sleep, Chris." Steve settled back in the chair, propping his head up in one hand, fingers of the others tangled with Christian's as Christian slept.
Re: RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, where else would i be?
From:Re: RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, where else would i be?
From:Re: RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, where else would i be?
From:Re: RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, where else would i be?
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 03:33 pm (UTC)It doesn't take much to get both men in the same place at the same time, they are more or less joined at the hip anyway, and this is why she thinks this will work. Why it has to work. She feeds them, a dinner designed to make them relaxed and at ease and when the dessert is on the table, a decadent chocolate creation with whipped cream she licks off her lips with calculated intent. She feels their eyes on her and doesn't bother to hide the pleased little smile.
When she shivers between them, delighting in the hands and mouths on her skin and the muscles under her lips, she decides that dreams really are meant to be realized.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:14 pm (UTC)FILLED: while you're here [spn- dean/cas]
Date: 2010-01-08 03:21 pm (UTC)When Dean finally gathers the courage to press himself further into Castiel's awareness, to draw closer to the angel-cloaked-in-man, he thinks something like so much time wasted while I quietly girled out over you. Castiel only turns his gaze, almost smiling fondly, and says to him, it was not so long for me. I was prepared to wait longer.
Years, months, days... For Castiel these measurements are indistinct, only a brief flutter in his personal sense of time.
Re: FILLED: while you're here [spn- dean/cas]
From:Re: FILLED: while you're here [spn- dean/cas]
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:23 pm (UTC)Cats and Books and, Dick/Tim, PG
Date: 2010-01-12 04:55 pm (UTC)He jumps at a loud, violent sound and wonders if an animal got in the house. But it was just Tim. An angry Tim at that.
"What are you doing?!" Dick was reminded very much of cats. The really prissy kind. Or maybe one of the sleeker ones. "Have you no respect for books?"
He wants very badly to make a joke but he's only partially certain Tim won't kill him where he lay, books or no.
"Oops?" He offers helpfully and hopefully but Tim is getting a little tic that says 'no, I really will castrate you'. He therefore does what any good Robin would do. Distract and then run.
Unfortunately, kissing Tim traps him and Tim has an evil look on his face. He foresees this not ending well.
Re: Cats and Books and, Dick/Tim, PG
From:Re: Cats and Books and, Dick/Tim, PG
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:30 pm (UTC)breathe in, breathe out, move on - PG, Bobby, mentions of het
Date: 2010-01-09 05:03 am (UTC)He couldn't have saved her then. He can admit that now, with all the years between. He couldn't have saved her as that foolish, blind, arrogant boy.
That doesn’t make living with it any easier.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:31 pm (UTC)exaction - Eliot/Alec, PG
Date: 2010-01-09 05:18 am (UTC)Eliot's body is covered in scars. Alec likes to take his time, whenever they (far to infrequently) have a chance, likes to lick and kiss his way along each, trying to erase whatever horror caused them with a better memory.
Eliot tells him where they came from, if he asks. Quietly, calmly, without emotion, he details exactly what he suffered. What he survived.
Alec has far fewer scars. Eliot’s asked, looking to see if he needed to hunt someone down. Alec assured him that there was no point.
There’s one, though, that made Alec flinch when Eliot’s finger traced it. Eliot moved on, with barely a glance to show he’d noticed and filed away Alec’s reaction.
Eliot never asks.
A month later, Alec finds an obituary taped on his laptop.
Alec never thanks him.
Re: exaction - Eliot/Alec, PG
From:Re: exaction - Eliot/Alec, PG
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:33 pm (UTC)