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Now it's time for the free for all!

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

cozy-coffee.livejournal.com

Any, any/any, (I think we deserve) A happy ending

From:

tigriswolf

Filled here.

Warnings for canon-typical references to violence and cannibalism.

From:

cozy-coffee.livejournal.com

This was awesome! I miss the series, fantastic fic! Thank you s, s much!!!

From:

cozy-coffee.livejournal.com

Supernatural, Sam & Dean, The sins of our father

From:

tigriswolf

In hindsight, when he's older than his father ever lived to be, Dean still won't badmouth the man, but he listens to Sam, allows Sam the space to rant and rave about all the ways Dad failed. He doesn't say a word to defend or excuse anything John Winchester did.

John Winchester did his best. Dean can acknowledge that. It's just that Dad's best wasn't enough

From:

cozy-coffee.livejournal.com

This makes me miss my boys so much. A wonderfull fic! Thank you!

From:

cozy-coffee.livejournal.com

Any, any, Pink, Pretty, Perfect

From:

turnerwolf.livejournal.com

Line of Duty, Ted Hastings, Steve Arnott
Ted Hastings/Steve Arnott It's okay to rest- Inspired not only by this prompt but the video of Adrian Dunbar singing "Castle of Dromore" To hell with the fourth wall and all :P

It had been a harrowing week. Saying goodbye to an old boss and trying to find footing under a new one, one Steve did not respect...not in the way he had Ted. He found himself mouthing off more than usual and blatantly challenging Patricia Carmichael. It had been so bad that there was talk and his old partner called him up to tell him he needed to reign it in. It hadn't done much good though. Carmichael had called him into her office at the close of shop that Friday night. She asked him if he wanted to stay under her command, held up her hand to forestall any answer, and told him to think about it and give her his answer, his warrant card, or both on Monday morning.

Nearly ten pints into what was turning into a pity party as Steve decided he was done and he would tell that bitch to shove his warrant card where the sun didn’t shine because she wasn’t worthy of the office she had assumed at Ted Hastings forced retirement, there was a knock at his door.
He contemplated ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of him and he staggered to the door.

“Yeah, whatdoyawant?” he mumbled as he opened the door, eyes going wide as he took in the figure standing on his steps.

Hastings. He shook his head, not quite believing his eyes. Maybe he had too much to drink. Definitely. That was it. Too much to drink. He took a staggering step backward, pulling the door open, swinging his other arm in a wide gesture for the man who couldn’t, wouldn’t possibly be gracing his doorstep.
“Come in, come in,” nearly falling flat on his arse, arm countering course to keep upright, reaching out for something to steady himself with, which just happened to be a handful of that man who he was certain really wasn’t there. But he was.

“Easy son” Hastings stepped in, walking Steve back to the sofa, settling him down so he wouldn’t fall and hurt himself. He rummaged around in the kitchen for a few minutes, returning to the sofa with two cups of steaming coffee.

“What are you doing here?” Steve still wasn’t completely sure this was some grand drunken hallucination.

“My sources say you have been having a rough go of it the past week, thought I would come around for a visit. I told you I would be keeping my eye on you…” Ted sipped at his coffee.

Steve looked down, to try to hide the pleased blush that spread across his face. “You did.”

“And my sources are telling me that you have walked yourself into a corner. I know you son. I am not going to allow you to quit.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Didn’t think it was going to be, now did you?”

“No…but…this…it isn’t gonna work. She isn’t you. I don’t want…”

“Want? This is not about want son. You have a duty to fulfill. I need you there. Play the game. It will work in the end…Trust me. You do trust me, yes?” Hastings set his coffee cup down and leaned forward, letting his hands rest on Steve’s knees, gripping them slightly. Not enough pressure to hurt, but enough to keep Steve’s focus. The boy was beyond pissed. One cup of coffee wasn’t going to bring him around enough to really talk. Talk and remember what was said anyway.

“You are really here, aren’t you?”

Ted smiled slightly. Yeah, coffee wasn’t going to do the trick. In addition to being more than just three sheets to the wind, the boy looked utterly drained and exhausted. Warning bells started going off in his head… he should bid Steve goodnight and go, but… memories of holding Steve on this couch, not all that long ago refused to go away “Come’ere” he said a little gruffly as he took a seat on the couch, pulling Steve into his lap, wanting to offer that comfort again. After a few moments, he began to hum softly. After a few bars, he started singing softly,
"The October winds lament
Around the castle of Dromore
Yet peace is in her lofty halls
My loving treasure store

Though Autumn leaves may droop and die
A bud of spring are you sing hush-a-by
Loo,la-lo,la lan
Sing hush-a-by loo la lo"