comment_fic | Friday: Free For All

Friday: Free For All

Happy Friday everyone! I hope the week has treated you well, and the weekend is almost here. Which makes the Free For All perfect right? As usual, all fandoms, pairings, and prompts are welcome today.

Just remember to follow our normal rules:

No more than 5 prompts in a row, 3 prompts per fandom. If someone answers your prompt, you can prompt again.

No spoilers in your prompts for at least 1 week following the original air/publication date. If your response includes spoilers, warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.

Please remember to format your prompts correctly. For example:

Invisibles, King Mob, releasing the sigil (well, it could be as dirty as you think)

Dresden Files/Supernatural, Harry/Dean/Sam, the vessel for who??

Nothing striking your interest today? Slide on over to our lonely prompts and see if something there can strike your interest!

Happy writing. :D

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The postcards arrive from exotic places that Laverne couldn’t find in an atlas; the Sudan, the Ukraine, the North Pole. Postcards line the interior of her scrapbook, the big golden one Lenny bought her for their fiftieth wedding anniversary.

Shirley had her own collection of postcards and letters, pressed with scented corsages between old gray leather scrapbooks. The baby-powder scent wafted from their pages, enlivening the world of staid and expensive belongings losing their meaning with the absence of the children.

They’d taught their girls to write, not email, to call, not text, so there were physical evidence of their progress, the prize.

Laverne thinks it’s odd that she made it all the way to LA, but never to Europe. Walter and Shirley saw the Pacific theatre, the wild world outside the door. But these children of theirs saw more than either of them had seen in their forty years.

Shirley grins when Laverne shows her the invitation she’s just received; an invitation to her daughter’s graduation, for a doctorate in linguistics.

Before they hug, Laverne share sthe praise. “We did good, Shirl.”

Hee, I imagine that's exactly what happened <3. So what I'm going to write now...

I genuinely teared up reading this. Bravo, and I am reccing everywhere.

Suzanne was flat-out stunned. She might have been the one who took care of Julia at the end, but somehow the ultimate finality of it left her somewhat numb.

Mary Jo had been forced to take charge of the planning, which she did with her own forthright strength. “Standards, good food, and liberal preachers,” she had decided, and when they found a firebrand of a man from the Unitarian Universalist church whose fiery orations from the pulpit made their skin turn to goosepimples. He was booked immediately. Anthony had taken care of the larger practicalities, and somehow they gathered together, Julia’s nearest and dearest.

Everyone who was anyone in Atlanta had shown up; Suzanne had used her political influence to make sure of it. There were wreathes from the Clintons and Obamas, and a tasteful casket spray from a Murphy Brown, an old friend of Julia’s. Payne turned up, hale but balding, to shoulder the casket and blubber over his mother’s grave. He was a mamma’s boy; Suzanne noted that, even now, trying to keep Clayton from double-dipping his Frito into the godawful chili Carlene had brought, shifting by the buffet table while Charlene showed her pictures of Olivia’s daughter.

Well, they were all getting up there – not Suzanne, of course. Charlene and Mary Jo were grandmothers; Allison too, and even B.J. had found another husband. Well, after five marriages Suzanne was done; it was time for her to relax and bask in the attention of Desi’s kids, all of whom called her ‘Blossom’ instead of grandmother.

She watched the dignified proceeding and rolled her eyes. Julia would have loved the order but yearned for a little chaos. If Bernice had been there…

…But Bernice had been gone for years now. Suzanne sat behind a pair of mirrored Jackie O sunglasses, her hands in her lap, scowling at the casket.

“Do you need something, Suzanne?”

Anthony squeezed her shoulder. She flung him a look over her shoulder. “A bottle of Sea Witch and a box of Krispy Kreme donuts.”

He knew she was grieving, and sat down beside her. Of all of them Anthony seemed to be aging the slowest, and being with him was a strange pause in time that took Suzanne back twenty-four years, to pet pigs and maids named Consuela and bundling in her princess pink bed.

“She was a fine woman,” Anthony said.

“Julia was the best of us,” she said. “I couldn’t tell her that while she was alive.”

Anthony squeezed her hand. “I have a feeling she knows.”

“Julia would,” Suzanne cracked. “She always had her nose out of joint about something.”

“’Cause she wanted the best for the world. And I think she got it. Do you?”

Suzanne hadn’t ever thought of it that way. “Yes.”

That really was Julia – a striver who wanted the world to be a better place. Suzanne knew she would never be able to replace Julia in the world, but she was glad for having had her in her life; her stubborn, brilliant, strong-willed, opinionated Julia.

And that was how she’d remember her big sister.

Bravo! This was the first DW fic I've ever read and you were spot on with it.

That blubbering sound you're hearing from your computer? Yeah, that's me. It's exactly how I'd imagine the funeral. I can't believe all that time's gone by since this show was in its heyday and all the characters were, if not young, middle-aged. I grew up watching them settle down in life and, now, I've watched a couple of them die. It's strange.

You made it a little less strange, even if I still want to cry. Suzanne is exactly how I imagine she'd be. Beautiful and stoic and little bit stunned that so much time has passed. Anthony is still her constant. I wonder what kind of madness they could get up to after all these years?

I love it. Absolutely love it. Despite her being fictional, I really miss Julia. By extension, I miss Dixie even more. Thank you!

This makes me sad and happy at the same time. I'm so glad to see these characters again and, yet, I'm a little sad the actresses are really, gone. Yeah, I'm blubbering a little.

I love it! Thank you. It's go to see that death hasn't changed them. Sophia is still a card. Dorothy is still trying to win over her mother. Blanche still thinks about sex like she breathes. They're still them. And, on Earth, you know Rose is still Rose.

It's perfect. You'd never know you hadn't written them before.

I adore it. They seem exactly like the kind of moms that would preserve every bit of memorabilia from their children's lives. It makes me the happiest that they're still friends. To have a friend for that long is an amazing thing. To know you've both raised your children that well is even better.

This gives me warm, nostalgic, fuzzy feelings. It's exactly what I wanted. Thank you. :-)

Guilt crashes through Eliot at the sight of the person laying in bed next to him. He exhaled a shaky breath and pushed his hands through his hair. This was the part he hated, the reason he never slept where he lived, the reason he never fucked anyone he knew or cared about because it made leaving afterwards all the harder. Especially knowing he would have to face them again.

He needed it though. Last night. Both of them did. And it was good. Was preceisely what he needed. What both of them needed.
But waking up together was... not what he needed. Not at all. So he had to get out of here. And now.

A hand on his thigh had him looking over, meeting sleepy eyes and a lazy smile. "Stay?"

And he did.

Three is a Crowd

"I thought you didn't have to sleep." Jack complains.

"You wore me out." Ten sulks.

"I thought you didn't sleep, Jack." Ianto points out.

"I can do without the nightmares, thank you very much." Jack shudders. "I just figured, if there was one place I could sleep peacefully, it would be in the TARDIS, with my boys."

"We are not your boys!" The Doctor argues.

"Yes we are." Ianto relents.

"Yeah, we are." Ten agrees. Jack smiles, and starts drifting off to sleep when...

"Sir, you're like a furnace. You're giving off way too much body heat." Ianto tells the Captain.

"I'm an alien," The Doctor states. "I can survive alien temperatures, don't let this fragile humanoid exterior fool you. But he does have a point Jack."

"Sorry, I'll just fall asleep in a bath of ice." Jack replies sarcastically, too tired to even come up with a 'hot and good-looking' quip. "I don't want to sleep alone." Jack admits.

"I'm sorry sir." Ianto empathizes. "I just do not see how it is possible. The bed is too small for three grown men to sleep in."

"I don't understand. The TARDIS loves me!" Jack claims. "What have I done to annoy her so much? Why is she being so cruel?"

"Perhaps she's jealous." The Doctor suggests. A pillow falls from the ceiling onto his head. The bed grows even smaller and Ten is pushed onto the floor.

"Perhaps she's feeling left out." Ianto offers. "She's a beautiful machine and we've been neglecting her." The bed grows a little, enough so Ten can lie on it again. Not comfortably, but at least he doesn't fall off.

"Have we been ignoring you?" Ten asks. The TARDIS stutters. "Come on, it can't have been that long-" Ten breaks off as the TARDIS supplies him with Jack, Ianto and Ten's activities for the past 69 hours. It involves a lack of no clothing, lots of sex and Ianto taking a brief nap whilst Ten and Jack spent some one on one time. All whilst the TARDIS was forced to watch and unable to participate. No wonder she's frustrated. "I'm sorry." Ten apologizes.

"Honey," Jack says. "I promise as soon as I've had a nap I am ditching these guys to work on your internal communication stabilizers and vocalization array." Ianto raises an eyebrow, trying to determine if he should be offended. Then the Doctor looks at him, and he realizes that four is an even number and has even more possibilities for their relationship.

The bed grows and whilst Ten, Jack and Ianto sleep, the TARDIS purrs happily

Yay for Legion! Good to see it here. I am tempted to write but it would all turn out so angsty. The reason Michael loves Jeep is because he's so pure and loves Charlie so much and unconditionally. If Jeep cheated on her with Michael, Michael would feel so torn, torn between love and fidelity. I guess I could ignore Charlie for the sake of keeping this a ficlet. Maybe. I may return with fic. Let me think it over, please.

I love the TARDIS. And I love Rory. And I love you for writing this. Adorable and perfect and SO TRUE!

*chuckle* Jack is so smooth, he seduces the TARDIS. Nice!

This is awesome, thank you. :D

Glad you liked it. I had fun writing this so thank you for prompting XD

I Must Have Did Somebody Some Good.

{In my time of dying, want nobody to mourn
All I want for you to do is take my body home}

.

Patience is not a trait Lucifer lacks. It is one that Sam has forgotten. But in that moment of memory, of watching himself trap little plastic men like the celestial fodder he would himself become, Sam learned forbearance. Lucifer is his destiny, the Morningstar casting light on every niche of his black-bloodied soul.

There could be no Heaven for this prodigal child, always fleeing from family and duty (only Lucifer, fellow vagrant, would share his fate). A humming starts in the back of Sam's mind, and he surges forward, following the tune through the labyrinth, back to the open sky. Lucifer fights him, but Sam is quicker, more used to navigating the swirling terror of no no please don't let me lose and the immediacy of reaction.

The rings glint harshly when he flings them, cold despite the Michigan sun. He whispers the words as though he's known them forever (maybe i have, maybe we were always meant to be like this, you and me together, don't you see?) and follows the pit home.

He'd always felt a little charred around the edges.

Total fluff. Sorry.

“This is fucking embarrassing,” Dean groaned. He didn’t dare look down at the blue boiler suit he was wearing. If he did, then case or no case, money or no money, he’d tear it off and run screaming.

“I fail to see how,” Castiel said. He was dressed the same as Dean, but might still have been wearing his holy tax accountant get-up for all that it seemed to be bothering him. “We can watch the diner from here all day. You and Sam also said you needed money; would you prefer to earn it honestly by working for it, or dishonestly by cheating at games of chance?”

“Hey,” Dean protested. “I don’t cheat. I just have a talent for winning. And it is hard work. This...I have no words, Cas.”

They went out onto the forecourt, and worked steadily throughout the morning. Dean loved cars, but there was only one car he loved and it felt like he was having some kind of seedy affair lavishing his attention on other vehicles. He even ignored the cute girls that tried flirting with him while he soaped and rinsed their rides.

He didn’t ignore the ones that tried (and failed) to flirt with Cas, even though he knew the angel was totally oblivious. He did, though, ‘accidentally’ tip his bucket of dirty water over the expensive Italian shoes of the guy who tried to touch Cas up.

Cas glared at him. Then he glared at the driver, who suddenly got very nervous and peeled out of the car wash like something...angelic and scary was maybe thinking of smiting him.

Dean laughed until once again he was the subject of the angel’s scowl. “What?” he managed.

Cas shook his head and went on to the next car.

Dean shrugged. He was absolutely not going to apologise for protecting his angel. Hell, he could have done a lot worse.

By the time the wash was shutting up, Dean had his suspicions that whatever was going on at the diner would probably be of interest to nobody but public health inspectors. He felt his stomach roil at some of the things he’d seen there – not demonic, but worth shooting somebody over all the same.

He and Castiel drew their pay. The angel looked at the money he’d been given and passed it to Dean with a look of disinterest. Dean shoved it back in Castiel’s pocket.

“In case you need it,” he said. “Cas, you never know.”

They got back in the Impala and drove to the motel where they were staying. Dean cooed a little over his car, assuring her she was the only one for him while Castiel stared at him like he really was in need of exorcising or psychiatric help.

Inside, Sam got up as they came in. Dean realised how much he loved his brother. Sam had somehow got pizza and beer, and put the slices out on three paper plates.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dean said, as he felt Cas start to spread his wings. He snagged the angel’s wrist.

Castiel glanced at him. “To continue my search. I’m not needed here just now.”

Sam grinned. “Cas, I think you might as well accept you’re staying put tonight. Come on, eat with us.”

Castiel sat down with a sigh. “Are we going back to the car wash tomorrow?”

Dean almost choked on his pizza. “Hell, no. The only car we wash from now on is ours.”

:) Looooved it

They are so adorable in this and yet still their badass selves. Love that Dean made Cas keep his money (those little tips for being human make me squee).

And LMAO at this:
" Dean cooed a little over his car, assuring her she was the only one for him while Castiel stared at him like he really was in need of exorcising or psychiatric help."

You could always do it as onesided Michael/Jeep.

What is that icon from?

They will battle across creation, from one side of the sky to the other, from the beginning to the end and beyond. But not to the death.

Never to the death.

Because Michael and Lucifer can erase continents from existence, can call down the mountains and summon the seas, can destroy worlds. But not each other.

Never each other.

They could, and they both know it. To kill one is to kill the other, and that might end this entire war. Heaven will succeed without Lucifer on the other side, most powerful of all angels save his elder brother, the first and the best, God’s Bright Sword, Father’s Thundering Fist. The demons are not an army without a king to follow, without a leader capable of planning.

It will end with them, as it began with them, and they will battle forever because it will never be to the death.

(Uriel, and Raphael, and Azazel, and Zachariah, and Alistair—none of them understand. Joshua does, though. Once upon a time, when he walked the earth he had a brother named John, and John stood at the foot of his cross, and Joshua loved him so very much.)

It's from Burn Notice Season 2 Episode 6.

This is perfect!

Oh, thanks <3.
I love this, especially the last part &hearts.

Oh thank you so much, this is perfect!

It is easier than he expected. To find the darkness that has been slowly leeching into his soul since he connected so fully to Dean Winchester. To sink down into that darkness, that desolation, that all-consuming need and want, and the utter pain of being gone from Heaven.

He is no longer Castiel, the scholarly angel, the Righteous Man’s savior. He is now a demon, a damned soul that long since forgot its name. So, to make things simple, he chooses a new name for this guise, of his long-gone brother, Cassiel. The last king he killed was before any language now spoken existed, but maybe Moloch will remember.

The seductive nature of this task whispers to him, and Dean looks beautiful at the end of his chain, bound to Moloch by blood and hellfire and his willing sacrifice to save Sam.

“Cassiel,” Moloch booms, pulling Dean closer and running a possessive talon down his flank. “I remember you, angel. You’ve come a long way.”

Castiel gazes long at Dean, eyes downcast and breaths shallow, and then turns to Moloch.

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Page 17 of 23

Friday: Free For All

Postcards

Re: No Fic (YET AGAIN)

Re: Golden Girls, Sophia and Dorothy and Blanche, filling the time until Rose shows up (they hope it

What you've learned

no subject

Re: What you've learned

Re: Golden Girls, Sophia and Dorothy and Blanche, filling the time until Rose shows up (they hope it

Re: Postcards

no subject

Three is a crowd, Doctor Who, Ten/Jack/Ianto, no bed in the TARDIS big enough

No Fic but...

Re: It Really Isn't That Odd, All Things Considered

Re: Three is a crowd, Doctor Who, Ten/Jack/Ianto, no bed in the TARDIS big enough

Re: Three is a crowd, Doctor Who, Ten/Jack/Ianto, no bed in the TARDIS big enough

filled; spoilers for season five finale

FILLED: SPN, Dean/Cas, At the Car Wash

Re: FILLED: SPN, Dean/Cas, At the Car Wash

Re: No Fic but...

Re: Crazy Like Ophelia, Gen, PG, Set Season 1

from the beginning to the end - gennish, Biblical allusions, PG

Re: Crazy Like Ophelia, Gen, PG, Set Season 1

Re: Leverage/The Losers, Both crews, The day all of them first meet.

Re: from the beginning to the end - gennish, Biblical allusions, PG

Re: filled; spoilers for season five finale

besmear'd with blood - implied Castiel/Dean, PGish, xover with Paradise Lost