Monday: Cold Turkey Sandwich
Nov. 22nd, 2010 02:04 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
deanlives.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_fic
Happy Monday to Everyone. Our lucky theme for the day is Cold Turkey Sandwich. Where someone eats or makes turkey sandwich.
As always, please remember our rules:
~Please don’t prompt more than 5 prompts in a row or over 3 prompts per fandom in a row. Once someone has answered your prompt, you may prompt again.
~Don't include spoilers in your prompt until at the very least one week after the original airing date or publication date. If there are spoilers in your fic, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces before your story begins.
~Thank your writers, it's only kind and we all thrive on feedback.
Please lets keep our code monkeys happy by making sure your codes are right.
Fandom, Pairing, Prompt
Supernatural, Sam/Dean, Sam makes Dean a cold turkey sandwich out of leftovers.
OR
Fandom1/ Fandom 2, Character 1/ Character 2, Prompt
Supernatural/White Collar, Dean/Neal, Plays pool and the winner gets the turkey sandwich.
[theme tag=cold turkey sandwich]
Happy Prompting Everyone!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:08 am (UTC)Filled: Calvin and Hobbes
Date: 2010-12-20 07:17 am (UTC)“Calvin, we told you NEVER to touch the stove!”
“But Hobbes said to turn the heat on! That’s what burns them.”
Calvin’s mother rubbed her temples. “Let your father and I take care of the Zortans, all right?”
Calvin watched his mother with suspicious eyes. Finally, he said ‘That’s just what a Zortan would say!”
Re: Filled: Calvin and Hobbes
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:09 am (UTC)early morning shenanigans
Date: 2010-11-22 10:04 am (UTC)He slides across Anna's empty side of the bed, and snorts at the fact that as soon as he relinquishes his hold on the comforter, Uriel is pulling at it, adding to his blanket-hogging cocoon. The kitchen noises have died down by the time he's reached the stairs, replaced instead by Anna cursing softly.
"Anna, what's going-" he starts as he stumbles his way into the kitchen, but stops himself at the sight in front of him. "Uh... Why are you cutting bread with your sword?"
Anna looks up from the cutting board, sword in hand and her eyes narrowed. "Because I need to fix Claire's lunch-bag, but someone dipped the good bread-knife in dead man's blood last week."
"But I washed it!" Dean protests.
"That doesn't matter, Dean!" Anna says, eyes wide and pissed off. "I know where that knife has been, and I am not putting it anywhere near Claire's food."
"Like your sword's any better!"
"This sword," Anna says, brandishing it, "has never been used for anything before. This sword manifested from my Grace just now, because I was in need. Just like every damn sword you've ever seen me or Uriel use." She punctuates her sentence by stabbing the sword into the cutting board, leaving it standing up, and really, that should not be as sexy as she makes it.
"That's so hot." And that was probably not what he meant to say. He thinks. Maybe.
Anna blanches, confused for about two seconds, then she's laughing, strangling giggles as she throws some turkey ham at him. "I'm still mad at you," she insists as he makes his way over, slips arms around her waist. "That was a good knife."
"I'll buy a new one," he promises.
"What's going on down here?" Claire says, stepping into the kitchen, pink and green hair standing every which way as she blinks sleep from her eyes. "I heard yelling," she adds, suspiciously.
"Dean was being stupid," Anna says, smiling as she spreads butter on the bread slices.
"Anna was totally overreacting," Dean says, resting his head on Anna's shoulder.
Claire looks between them a few times, eyes narrowed like she's calculating whether it would be worth pressing them for more information, then she just makes a tired noise and turns around. "Yeah, whatever. Just keep it down, I don't need to be awake for an entire hour," she grumbles as she leaves. "And don't have sex on the kitchen table! I eat there!" she shouts from the stairs, five seconds before they hear her bedroom door close.
"I noticed she didn't say anything about the counter," Dean murmurs, grinning against Anna's neck.
"Down boy," Anna says primly as she starts putting together the single most healthy sandwich Dean has ever seen. "You know the rules; no kitchen-sex."
"What about shower-sex, then?"
She pauses for a few seconds, contemplating. "Just let me finish Claire's lunch. And you have to pick up a new bread knife on your back home from work."
Dean smiles. "Awesome."
Re: early morning shenanigans
From:Re: early morning shenanigans
From:Re: early morning shenanigans
From:Re: early morning shenanigans
From:Re: early morning shenanigans
From:Re: early morning shenanigans
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:46 am (UTC)"Oh. Hi Dean," Sam says.
"Hello, Dean. We are occupied," Cas says impatiently.
"Dean," Sam says, "I can see you're upset. Maybe Cas can heal your sandwich."
Dean closes his eyes. He isn't sure which one of them he's about to ream out for taking advantage of the other, but he's pretty sure it's going to happen.
"Okay, first of all, we are supposed to be researching why those people went missing. Which means we are NOT using Cas' mojo for a sandwich," Dean growls. "I mean seriously, Sam? A sandwich?"
"You like sandwiches," Sam shrugs, "I was being empathetic."
"That is NOT how empathy works!" Dean says.
"If I recall," Cas informs Sam, "Empathy is about telling people their trivial concerns are indeed very significant, and that there is nothing ridiculous about their bloated sense of self-importance."
"See, I always thought it was more like making people feel like you're really interested in what they have to say," Sam notes.
"But why would anyone think I am interested in what they have to say?" Cas wonders.
"Good point," Sam says, eyebrows furrowed.
"That is NOT a good point - it -- both of you --- okay, new rule! No getting tips on acting human from someone who's not any good at it!" Dean yells.
"Are you talking to me or him?" Sam asks.
"Both of you!"
"I see what you mean," Cas tells Sam, "Now that the apocalypse is done, it's just tedious how bossy he is."
"Tedious! I'm sorry that I'm not taking advantage of someone without a soul!"
"Actually, we started this before the whole soulless thing," Sam said, "I was just terrified you would freak if you found out, so I broke it off. Sorry about that, by the way, Cas," Sam says.
Cas replies, "That is not necessary. I assumed that a relationship with a human would be mostly about shame and repression. And even more so with a Winchester."
"Hey!" Dean yells, "That's not how -- okay, you know what, that's not the point! And Sam, how could you corrupt a -"
"Dude, I don't care what you think. I would think you would have caught on to that by now. But if it makes you feel better to yell, go ahead. Actually, you know what? If you want to watch us finish as you yell, that would be pretty hot."
"What?!!"
"I fail to see why that would be hot," Cas replies, "Though it is only fair that we should continue despite Dean's objections, since he is the one who interrupted us."
Dean glares at them both, but when all he receives are amused and annoyed stares, from Sam and Cas respectively, he picks up his sandwich and throws it at them, then slams the door on his way out.
He walks to his car to drive back into town to replace his lunch, grumbling the whole way. He definitely isn't going to get another turkey sub; he's sticking to burgers from now on. He doesn't know why he thought it'd be good to try something new. That's never a good idea.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:27 am (UTC)Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [1/2]
Date: 2011-05-17 09:30 am (UTC)"No," Dean says clearly. "Get the hell out of my dream."
Lucifer only smiles and cups Dean's cheek, looking indulgent and feeling all too tangible for Dean's comfort.
"Who's to say this is a dream?" Lucifer asks, and slides a cold finger down Dean's front. "There's no reason why you can't be here now."
It's a chilling thought, colder than Lucifer's finger as it touches Dean's stomach, and it makes Dean rear up and try to pull back, even as Lucifer reaches out and grips his waist, pulling him in close.
"You aren't dreaming, Dean," Lucifer murmurs as he nips at Dean's lip. "You're here," and oh hell, Dean thinks, he can feel Lucifer's fingers on his hips.
Lucifer kisses him, and Dean swears into his mouth, pushing at his shoulders, but Lucifer's strong, immovable, and Dean has to accept it when Lucifer pulls Dean to his chest and holds him there.
"What do you want?" Dean spits, unwilling to give up the fight, even if he knows he can't get far.
"I've brought you here for breakfast," and Dean must be forgiven for thinking the wrong thing, for trying to punch Lucifer.
Dean shows fear, but Lucifer just blinks at it and pulls Dean close again, understanding what he's thinking with a sigh.
"I won't eat you," Lucifer says. "Or your blood, or your soul, I have no taste for humans."
Dean makes a soft sound and tries to pull away.
Lucifer wraps an arm over Dean's shoulders and holds him close as a tray appears on the bed, loaded with pancakes and toast and oatmeal and bacon and two cups of coffee.
"Before I consign your species to extinction," Lucifer says. "I thought I would try some of its luxuries."
Dean says nothing and eyes the maple syrup, and the knives, and tries to think of ways to get himself out of this situation.
Then he's flipped over, onto his back, pressed up to Lucifer's chest, and Lucifer picks up a pancake with his fingers, and Dean watches as Lucifer eats it. He's dainty, doesn't let a crumb tumble off onto Dean, and for a moment it's almost okay, Dean can work like this if Lucifer keeps eating, but then -
Lucifer lowers half of the pancake, and offers it to Dean.
Dean doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he swears and in swearing Lucifer takes the opportunity to put the pancake in his mouth.
Dean chokes for a moment, then chews and swallows and thinks that this is so screwed up, he can't even begin to list the problems here.
He meets Lucifer's eyes and tries inching a hand out to the knife he knows is next to one of the plates.
Lucifer puts a cold hand around Dean's throat and says in a pleasant tone, "If you're going to be difficult, Dean, I can make this much worse for you. I am being a gracious host now, am I not?"
Dean lets his hand drop, and pulls it back to his side, swallowing, and even if he won't admit it, he's terrified.
Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [2/2]
From:Re: Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [2/2]
From:Re: Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [2/2]
From:Re: Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [2/2]
From:Re: Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [2/2]
From:Re: Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [2/2]
From:Re: Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [1/2]
From:Re: Cold breakfast, R, S5 AU [1/2]
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:36 am (UTC)Quick fill - Doctor Who Ten/Donna
Date: 2010-11-22 08:52 am (UTC)"Doctor, I think we need to talk about your eating habits."
"Huh? Why, there's nothing wrong with how I eat."
"Seriously? A honey-turkey-banana sandwitch? It's digusting."
"Come on, Donna, bananas are good!"
"You're not coming near my mouth with banana breath. The anchovies were bad enough, Spaceman."
Re: Quick fill - Doctor Who Ten/Donna
From:Re: Quick fill - Doctor Who Ten/Donna
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:41 am (UTC)Filled: My Name Is Bruce
Date: 2010-12-20 07:09 am (UTC)Bruce tilted his head. “Are you high?” then he whispered confidentially in his friend’s ear, “if you have any on you, gimmie some.”
“I’m high on thrills! Chills! And the ultimate battle of man versus meal!!” He held out the script. “They start filming in New Zeland in January.”
“But I’ve gotta…”
“I cleared your schedule!”
Bruce stared at his agent in disbelief. “Do I get to kill things with sharp knives?”
“Yep.”
Bruce tilted his head and pretended to think. “Get me a flight to New Zealand.”
no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:55 am (UTC)fill. (Book verse Dresden files)
Date: 2010-11-22 12:54 pm (UTC)"There's your comforters" he pointed to the cheddar and turkey.
"The ones who nag you about your health." The lettuce.
"Your fruits." The slice of tomato.
"And the ones who spice up your life. The ones who make it interesting." And he licked the bit of yellow mustard from where it had dripped on his hand.
"Then they're all held together by love. " A tiny piece of the bread was ripped off.
"So you see Mister, we're all a family here. You, Bob, Mouse and me. There's no need to go somewhere else for food."
The cat looked distinctly unimpressed, even when Harry dropped some mustard-free turkey on the floor for him.
Re: fill. (Book verse Dresden files)
From:Re: fill. (Book verse Dresden files)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 08:59 am (UTC)Re: My One Angel is Better Than Your Two[Cas/Gabe/Sam + Dean/Luce PG-13]
From:Re: My One Angel is Better Than Your Two[Cas/Gabe/Sam + Dean/Luce PG-13]
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 09:41 am (UTC)Fill <3
Date: 2010-11-22 06:38 pm (UTC)“You aren’t even going to try it first?” Misha asks, quirking an eyebrow. He’s amused more than anything, hands on his hips and smirking. “You might even like it.”
“No,” Jensen scowls. “I don’t understand why we can’t have a turkey. Besides, the last time you wanted me to try something new, I got food poisoning.”
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault,” Misha frowns. “I got food poisoning from the sushi as well, and I still eat it.”
“That’s because you’re a freak.”
Misha lets out a heavy sigh, sliding across the kitchen tile easily to wrap his arms around Jensen’s waist and tugging him close. “So you don’t like trying new things?”
“No.” Jensen wraps his arms around Misha in turn, brushing his lips against Misha’s forehead. “It’s not too late to buy a turkey. There’s gotta be somewhere in town still open.”
“We’re not buying a turkey, Jensen, and stop changing the subject,” Misha grins.
“I wasn’t – “
“You don’t like new things.” A statement this time, followed by Misha nibbling at Jensen’s jaw then down his neck, sucking at his throat. “So, when I do that thing with my tongue...” His hands slip down Jensen’s front to hook into his belt loops, tugging lightly. “…you don’t enjoy it?”
“Just because I made one exception…”
“If you don’t eat any of the tofurkey, I won’t do it again.” Misha wiggles away from Jensen’s grasp, slipping back to the other side of the kitchen to organize dinner ingredients again.
“That’s cheating,” Jensen scowls.
Misha rolls his eyes, before grinning at Jensen. “What are you going to do about it?”
There are a lot of things Jensen can do about it, and he doesn’t bother to drag Misha to the bedroom before he starts. Misha shoves cans and boxes off of the countertop to make room for Jensen’s wicked plans, grinning mischievously.
“You know,” he groans into Misha’s ear, fingers scrambling over sweat slickened skin. “This means no turkey sandwiches.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Misha promises, nuzzling into Jensen’s cheek.
Jensen scoffs, grinning, but this is something Jensen can trust Misha on.
Re: Fill <3
From:Re: Fill <3
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 09:44 am (UTC)The Study of a Fridge
Date: 2010-11-23 06:09 pm (UTC)But even his patience wasn’t infinite. And this thing? This was the proverbial last straw.
“Sherlock.”
Silence.
“Sherlock.”
Sherlock was still under the table, apparently looking for something. John couldn’t know for sure, of course; Sherlock refused to tell him what exactly he was doing under that table. John was just about to open his mouth and call him again, when Sherlock cut in, his voice indicating that he was mildly irritated. “Really, John, I have heard you the first two times. No need to call me again. I will get back to you when I have the time.”
John counted to ten. Then to twenty. Still didn’t help.
“Sherlock,” he said, trying to keep his tone level. “What was this sandwich you asked me for? Turkey?”
“Oh, yes, turkey,” Sherlock muttered from under the table. “Do we have turkey? I thought I remembered you saying we ran out of it.”
“That was last week. I re-stocked on Saturday.”
“Oh. So we can have turkey sandwiches. Great. I’ll have mine without the mayo; that new brand you’re buying is simply disgusting.”
“Well, you can make it however you want. I’d like the mayo, though. And some garlic, while you’ll at it.”
That got Sherlock’s attention. “Make it?” he asked, frowning, his head sticking from under the table. “Garlic? What do you mean?”
“I told you before. You want a sandwich? No problem, I can make you one, if only I could get at the ingredients in the fridge without reaching around a severed head.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Really, John, I’d never peg you for such a petty man.”
“Well, this petty man thinks keeping a severed head in one’s fridge is highly unhygienic and is going to have his sandwich at the local sandwich store. If you want a sandwich too, you have to make it yourself. If anything happens – and I mean a real emergency – I have my phone on me,” John said calmly. Turning around, he shrugged his jacket on and left the room.
“John!”
“I warned you, Sherlock,” John called, closing the door behind him.
____________
He came back some two hours later, bringing Sherlock’s favorite sandwich and tea with him. Their apartment was empty. There was, however, a note waiting for him on his laptop.
I moved the head.
SH
P.S. There’s no lettuce left
John smiled, heading for the fridge. Opening it, he looked inside, checking what else needed to be bought, and relishing in the severed-head-free space. He briefly wondered what Sherlock did with the head. Did he go to leave it at Molly’s morgue?
When he reached to the freezer to check if they still had those ice-cream Sherlock liked to have with his evening tea, he discovered that no, Sherlock didn’t take the head to Molly. It was in the freezer, right next to his vanilla ice-cream.
Well. It was time good as any to start including Sherlock in the grocery shopping.
Re: The Study of a Fridge
From:Re: The Study of a Fridge
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 09:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 09:48 am (UTC)Fill :)
Date: 2010-11-23 01:34 pm (UTC)Castiel frowned, tilting his head. “I am not young. And I don’t know what a Padawan is, but I am sure I’m not one. I am an angel.”
Dean sighed. “Semantics, Cas, semantics. So listen. Everything starts with the bread. It has to be good – the taste of the whole sandwich depends on the type of bread you used. Let’s look what we have here,” he murmured, opening the container with bread. “Hmm… looks like we run out of bread. Mostly. Gotta pick some up on my way to Ben’s school… But hey, we still have a few slices left, see?” with a blinding grin on his face, he showed Cas two pieces of bread that, in Cas’ opinion, didn’t look good. Or fresh.
“Now – we gotta toast it, Cas. There’s nothing better than a turkey sandwich on a slightly toasted bread. Where’s that damn toaster… oh, here it is. So you see, we put the bread in the toaster, set the temperature – okay, that should be enough – and turn it on. And while it’s toasting, we can take out the rest of the ingredients,” Dean continued, opening the fridge. “We’ll need mayo – mayo, Cas! That’s almost as important as the bread! Some mustard will be good too… and some lettuce. And tomato. Those are not strictly speaking indispensable, of course, but they get Lisa off my back about the vitamins, so. Hmm…Looks like we run out the veggies too… Well, ‘s okay, I’m not a big fan of greens anyway. So. we have mayo, we have mustard… o! A pickle!” Dean took his head out of the fridge. “A pickle, Cas! Remember! Turkey sandwich has to have pickles!”
Castiel nodded solemnly. “Pickles. Noted.”
“Good,” Dean murmured, turning back to the fridge. “What else do we have here… Cheese! We need cheese, Cas. Everything tastes better with some Jalapeño Jack. So…” he stepped back, his hands full. “We have cheese, mayo , pickles and mustard,” he said, laying the ingredients on the table. “And now…”
“Bread, Dean,” Cas cut in. “Hmm?” Dean muttered absentmindedly, looking up at him. “You were saying?”
“The bread,” Castiel repeated solemnly. “I believe it is now more than lightly toasted.”
“What…? Fuck! I forgot I was supposed to repair that damn toaster! Well, okay, it’s still edible,” Dean sighed with relief, holding in his hands pieces of bread that were now mostly black. “So. We only need the turkey now, right?” he murmured, going back to the fridge. “Damn… Lisa must have used all of it for Ben’s sandwiches. I swear, that kid is even a bigger fan of turkey sandwiches than I am. Well, whatever, there’s still ham, right?”
Five minutes later Dean sat back in his chair, satisfied. “That was the best turkey sandwich ever!”
Castiel tilted his head, frowning. He will never understand humans.
Re: Fill :)
From:Re: Fill :)
From:Re: Fill :)
From:filled 1/2
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-11-24 12:25 am (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
From:filled 2/2
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-11-24 12:27 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: filled 2/2
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 09:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 10:31 am (UTC)fill, (sorry for the edit, the last two paragraphs didn't post.)
Date: 2010-11-22 01:10 pm (UTC)He often becomes the chef in engineering when the emergency has passed and it's only the little problems that need to be done right now that are left.
They don't line up but his underlings have learned how to catch the sandwhich as it goes flying past and how to keep it from floating away when they have to set it aside to use both hands.
He's proud of how far they've come since he made them sandwhiches the first times.
He might even start teaching some of them the trick to making zero-g sandwhiches so he can get his hands back into his lovely ladies wires and pipes all the faster.
But not Lt. Jeremy. The man didn't appreciate a good turkey sandwhich.
Scotty's thinking about transfering him to another ship the way he keeps complaining about the food and banging around in Enterprises engines like he's in a scrapyard instead of the inner sanctum of a great lady.
Re: fill, (sorry for the edit, the last two paragraphs didn't post.)
From:Re: fill, (sorry for the edit, the last two paragraphs didn't post.)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-11-22 10:54 am (UTC)