Wednesday - Tears
Jun. 22nd, 2011 03:34 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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jaune_chat and here’s wishing you a wonderful Wednesday!
Today the theme will be Tears. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of frustration, tears of release, holding back tears, shedding a single tear, and whatever else you can think of to fit the theme!
As always, please follow the rules:
• No more than one prompt per post, three prompts per fandom, and no more than five total. If one of your prompts is filled, you may post another.
• No spoilers in the prompts for new shows/seasons until at least one week after airing.
• If your fill contains spoilers, please label it clearly with the fandom/show and leave enough space for people to pass by.
• Feel free to fill a prompt even if it is already filled, the more fic the merrier!
Be kind to our codemonkeys and format your prompt properly:
• Heroes, Maya/ or + any, it was cruel to her that she could not shed a tear without someone dying.
• Supernatural, Dean and Sam (or Dean/Sam), for all Dean complained about no chick-flick moments, hearing from Chuck’s fangirls about how much he and Sam cried kind of threw him for a loop.
• Sherlock (BBC)/Dollhouse, Sherlock and Adele, The only day Adele saw “Sherlock” cry was the day he deduced who he really was.
If nothing today trips your trigger, go check out our Lonely Prompts for inspiration!
(Tag = tears)
jaune_chat and here’s wishing you a wonderful Wednesday!Today the theme will be Tears. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of frustration, tears of release, holding back tears, shedding a single tear, and whatever else you can think of to fit the theme!
As always, please follow the rules:
• No more than one prompt per post, three prompts per fandom, and no more than five total. If one of your prompts is filled, you may post another.
• No spoilers in the prompts for new shows/seasons until at least one week after airing.
• If your fill contains spoilers, please label it clearly with the fandom/show and leave enough space for people to pass by.
• Feel free to fill a prompt even if it is already filled, the more fic the merrier!
Be kind to our codemonkeys and format your prompt properly:
• Heroes, Maya/ or + any, it was cruel to her that she could not shed a tear without someone dying.
• Supernatural, Dean and Sam (or Dean/Sam), for all Dean complained about no chick-flick moments, hearing from Chuck’s fangirls about how much he and Sam cried kind of threw him for a loop.
• Sherlock (BBC)/Dollhouse, Sherlock and Adele, The only day Adele saw “Sherlock” cry was the day he deduced who he really was.
If nothing today trips your trigger, go check out our Lonely Prompts for inspiration!
(Tag = tears)
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no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 08:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 08:37 am (UTC)Fill - manly SPN tears
Date: 2011-06-22 11:45 am (UTC)“Yep,” Sam replies from where he's lying on his bed, scrolling down a rec site full of what the loonies call woobie!Dean or hurt!Sam, “you in particular.”
“Like, one manly tear that doesn’t fall though, right?” Dean growls menacingly.
“Not exactly.”
Dean grunts grimly and buries his mouth in a cheeseburger.
“Especially when we’re, um,” Sam coughs slightly, “together together.”
“Dude, I’m eating here!”
“Plus, most of the time you’re the bottom. There are even terms for it besides bottom!Dean, like--” Sam bites his lip and knits his brow, turning into full research mode, “cockslut!Dean or, listen to this, cockwarmer!Dean.”
The mushy content of Dean’s mouth splashes all over the cheap plastic table as he protests loudly, calling Sam a dirty liar and the fangirls… stuff that shall not by typed on this keyboard.
And maybe, maybe Dean feels like crying when Sam’s finally in the shower and Dean checks the website himself, seeing his worst fears confirmed. He sucks it up though. No way he’ll give the crazies the satisfaction.
Probably.
Re: Fill - manly SPN tears
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-06-22 09:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-23 01:27 am (UTC)When Same was a baby, he'd scrunch up his little face and mewl like a starving kitten, like he didn't have enough energy to really buck-up and howl, but he cried. Big wet honkers that made Dean stare in wonder, because how did that many tears come out of such a little thing? It was even more daunting that the dirty diapers, because at least Dean knew - after a long peppering of questions during a late-night diner dinner - how that happened. But tears were something different. Dean never did figure out where they came from, because the bigger Sam got, the bigger his tears. Sasquatch of the saline world.
When Sam was six, he pretended to be big, and big boys don't cry, except for when Dad left, or he skinned his knee, or he thought there was a monster under his bed, or Dean ate the last of the cookies - He had two cookies out of the whole box! Sam so did not get to make him feel guilty for that! - and, well. Just about anything, really. He cried when he got cranky. He cried when he got mad. He cried when he was scared or sad or sick, and every time he turned into a giant, wet, snotty mess, that Dean had to clean up with rough napkins left from the take-out. He'd tuck him in afterwards and pat him on the shoulder like John always did with him, but Sammy would reach out and snag his hand or his tee-shirt and Dean was sunk. He crawl in bed with him and promise to make Sammy tougher tomorrow.
By eleven, Sammy didn't cry anymore. He teared up when he cut himself and turned bright red when he yelled, but the bumps in the night made him reach for a gun instead.
Dean likes to think Sammy cried when he left for Stanford, because he sure as hell did.
The older Sammy got, the more he became the same. Sam went through that odd respectful stage - oh, who was Dean kidding, it was more of a passing fancy between ages seven and nine, promptly forgotten once he figured out normal kids talked smack about every authority figure, ever - but he grew out of it and left it behind, but that didn't change his inherent friendliness. Not that his friendliness needed to be confused with giving a damn. That was also a passing fancy, though it passed through most of Sam's life. Dean remembers Sam thinking absolutely nothing of anyone else but Dean, and it seems the infant had grown back into the man, because here was Sam, thinking absolutely nothing of anyone else but Dean. The moodiness, the impatience, the spoiled entitlement. Oh yeah, it was all coming back.
Worst of all, though, was the crying. Dean had gotten used to Sammy crying, back when it was about Jess and Mom and all the other things Sammy blamed himself for that he had nothing to do. He sobbed, then, or he sighed into his pillow, but maybe that's why Dean had never opened the door and let himself in. It wasn't real. That wasn't Sammy crying.
Fuck it, Dean was the master of the single manly tear, but if Sam kept this up, Cas was gonna start circling the animals two-by-two and building a god-damned ark.
But, like everything else about Sam, Dean knew how to deal with this. He sat down next to his little brother and pulled him close, because giant man-thing or not, Sam still needed a hug, but Dean was not letting him talk about it in the morning because big boys don't cry.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 10:49 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-06-22 12:09 pm (UTC)Fill: High on the Pain, TSN, Eduardo & Mark
Date: 2011-09-30 12:01 am (UTC)“I need to go to Summit Hopsital. I'm taking a taxi, take messages, cancel meetings. I'm sorry,” he said, breathing heavily and looking distraught.
(http://kaylynnkie.livejournal.com/26936.html#cutid1)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 12:10 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-06-22 01:02 pm (UTC)Fic!
Date: 2012-07-05 05:33 am (UTC)Stormy had been Steve's birthday present to Grace. She had been asking for a cat for ages, but at the time, Danny was in between homes and Rachel hated cats. But then Steve and Danny finally stopped dancing around each other and started dating, giving Danny a place to stay and taking away his excuse not to get Grace a cat. So he was touched when Steve asked Danny if he could get Grace the cat. He gave Danny a very thorough explanation as to why, to the point where he thought Steve was going to pull out a Power Point presentation. He laughed after Steve finished and gave him the go-ahead.
Danny let the two of them to go the shelter without him, so they could bond without Steve using Danny as a buffer. Two hours later, they came home with three shopping bags from Pet Smart and one tiny pet carrier. Stormy, Grace explained, was eleven weeks old and was abandoned on the side of the road with the rest of her brothers and sister. She was the only one left from the litter. She was grey with golden yellow eyes. Grace let her out of the carrier, and she climbed on a nearby bookshelf and curled up on the dusty tops. It warmed Danny's heart to see Steve and Grace getting along so well, debating where to put the food and water bowls and where the litter box would cause the least mess. Danny dug through the shopping bags and found a little fishing pole toy. On the end of the string, a little green mouse and tiny bell dangled. He tried to tempt the frightened kitten with it. She stared at him with an expression that said, “Are you crazy? Who the heck are you?” She played with Grace and Steve more willingly and later, let Danny pet her for a moment before running off.
Rachel allowed Grace to come over every weekend and Wednesdays, Grace begging her and saying that she was a new mommy and she had to be there for her baby. When Grace was there, Stormy trailed after her so much that Danny wondered if Steve got her some sort of hybrid puppy/kitten mix. It was amusing to see Grace call out when she first arrived at the house and watch Stormy tumble down the stairs and leap into Grace's eager arms. But what was more amusing to Danny was Stormy's behavior when Grace wasn't there. The kitten acted the same around Steve as she did Grace. She would get up with Steve in the mornings, so much so that she would sit outside the bathroom door when he showered and meow until he let her inside. Danny never would have pegged Steve as a cat person, but this fuzzy little cat would reduce his mighty Super SEAL into baby-talking goo.
Then one weekend, Steve went out for his morning swim then left to run errands. Danny and Grace got up later and began puttering around the kitchen in search of food. Grace called out for Stormy, but the kitten didn't come. By the time Steve got back, Grace was panicked and near tears. They found the sliding door cracked open just enough for the kitten to slip through, causing Steve to apologize profusely. They searched for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, with no luck. Grace cried herself to sleep, and Steve sat outside, still calling out for their lost pet. The morning came, but with no Stormy. Steve and Danny took Grace home, Steve promising not to stop searching.
On Monday morning, Steve took his truck and wasn't at work when Danny got there. An hour later, he arrived with a thick stack of fliers with the missing kitten's picture and their contact information. Rachel allowed Steve to pick Grace up after school, and the two of them drove around the neighborhood and posted the fliers. Danny aided in the search efforts by going to the neighbor's houses and asking if they had seen the kitten. No one had, and Danny gave them a flier, telling them to contact them anytime if they found her.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 01:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 01:04 pm (UTC)Fill: Until I Die
Date: 2011-10-08 05:02 pm (UTC)Pulling pigtails could get both creative and deadly when both participants were in a dream and thus all physical consequences could be avoided. The mental and emotional consequences stayed, though. Sometimes Eames wished that if he just took one more bullet to the brain that maybe he’d wake up in a world where he wasn’t so obsessed with Arthur.
Occasionally, he gets the unfortunate feeling that Arthur wishes the same.
But if Arthur truly disliked him, Eames knew that Arthur wouldn’t have any problem putting a real bullet in his real brain, intending his real death. Amanda, his teacher in immortality and criminal behavior both, teased him that one day he would fall in love with a delicate little thing who would take him away from his wild ways. Eames thinks of Arthur and laughs. Eames likes the dangerous ones, the ones as sharp and deadly as any blade. For all his mortality, Arthur makes shivers run up Eames’ spine more than any Immortal.
That Arthur doesn’t know that Eames will wake up from a bullet to the brain outside of dreams as well as inside them, allows Eames to make his advances without fearing a permanent death too much.
Eames doesn’t expect Arthur to actually kill him in reality. Which is why he is just as surprised as his captors when Arthur comes to rescue him. Instead of rescuing Eames, he uses a machine gun to kill them all. Presumably he’s planning on letting God sort them out, except that Eames knows that Arthur is agnostic.
Eames dies, somewhat in despair, because maybe Arthur truly doesn’t mind if Eames dies.
And then he wakes up and Arthur is waiting for him.
“I decided it was easier to simply take you all out than try to extract you individually. I hope it wasn’t too painful.”
Arthur doesn’t actually sound like he would mind if it had been painful. It had been, but Eames can’t bring himself to care about that at the moment.
“How did you know that I would wake up?”
Arthur looks annoyed in that way he does whenever Eames questions his competency. Eames thinks he looks adorable like that, but for once Eames isn’t simply poking, he’s genuinely bemused.
“I’m a point man. It’s my job to know.”
“Not about that.”
“About everything. Come on, make yourself presentable so that we can get out of here.” Arthur hands him a travel bag that contains Eames’ clean clothes. They are, in fact, Eames’ clean clothes: shirt, trousers, socks, shoes, all from one of Eames’ locked safe houses that he hadn’t know that Arthur knew about.
“I think you forgot something.”
Arthur smirks, but doesn’t respond.
“You do like me!”
Arthur snorts softly.
“I will love you until I die of old age.”
“You mean until I die of old age. I’m not immortal, Eames, or even a pre-immortal.”
“I know.” And Eames refuses to think of the pain that knowledge foretells. “But I will love you until I die of old age.”
“You’re immortal, Eames. Do I need to remind you again? You won’t ever die of old age.”
“I know.”
Re: Fill: Until I Die
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