Thursday: Mundane Problems
Dec. 29th, 2011 03:20 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficGreetings! I bring yet another prompt today: mundane problems! Everyone has them - a bad hair day, breakfast was burnt, one of your characters has a splinter. And if your character happens to be someone without any mundane problems - depower them and find out how they'd react to stubbed toe.
Here's your reminder about the rules:
> Post no more than five prompts in a row, and don't post more than three prompts for a single fandom. If someone fills a prompt of yours, you can then prompt again.
> There's to be no spoilers in prompts until a week from air/publication dates.
> If your fill contains spoilers, then please label it clearly and leave enough spaces for people to scroll on by.
Finally, please format your prompts like so, for our beloved code monkeys.
Examples:
> Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves/Bertie, Bertie discovers, much to Jeeves' dismay, that his valet isn't always perfect.
> Supernatural, Castiel/any, It's things like these that make him regret choosing humanity over Heaven.
> A Bit of Fry and Laurie, any, someone gets a papercut
Please enjoy yourselves!
(tag=theme!mundaneproblems)
Here's your reminder about the rules:
> Post no more than five prompts in a row, and don't post more than three prompts for a single fandom. If someone fills a prompt of yours, you can then prompt again.
> There's to be no spoilers in prompts until a week from air/publication dates.
> If your fill contains spoilers, then please label it clearly and leave enough spaces for people to scroll on by.
Finally, please format your prompts like so, for our beloved code monkeys.
Examples:
> Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves/Bertie, Bertie discovers, much to Jeeves' dismay, that his valet isn't always perfect.
> Supernatural, Castiel/any, It's things like these that make him regret choosing humanity over Heaven.
> A Bit of Fry and Laurie, any, someone gets a papercut
Please enjoy yourselves!
(tag=theme!mundaneproblems)
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no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:21 am (UTC)Fill - Cas/Dean
Date: 2012-01-03 10:25 am (UTC)"Morning, sunshine. You angels sure need your beauty sleep." Dean's been up for hours already, going through Revelations with a fine-toothed comb (again).
"Dean, I believe I am dying." Dean looks up in alarm. Cas' suit and hair are rumpled with sleep, but there are no visible wounds.
"You don't look like you're dying."
"My head hurts," Cas explains with a sniff, "and my throat itches, and I seem to have lost the ability to breathe through my nose."
Dean even chuckles. "You're not dying, Cas. You've got a cold."
"How do I fix it?"
"You don't. Here, make yourself useful and read through this." Dean slides another translation of the Bible across the table and nudges the empty chair with his foot. "Sit. Just don't sneeze on me."
no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-02 05:16 pm (UTC)Crowley surveys the living room. He'd hoped that it wouldn't be so noticeable that he'd have to renovate (again), but, well--
The arm of the sofa falls off. The thunk it makes as it hits the floor has Crowley closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath.
Sometimes, having a hellhound as a pet is the worst thing ever. Especially if you're a man of lavish furniture tastes.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:39 am (UTC)Fill: Of Grammar and Bob the Salesman
Date: 2012-01-10 10:09 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: Of Grammar and Bob the Salesman
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:40 am (UTC)Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, auto-correct is the bane of his existence
Date: 2011-12-29 09:45 am (UTC)"If you throw it and break it," Steve said calmly, wrapping his hand around Christian's wrist and stopping him from throwing the phone, "you'll be even more pissed off when it doesn't work." He took the phone from Christian's hand, snickering at the text. "Yeah, I'm not sure Tim's cock needs batteries..."
"Supposed to say 'clock'" Christian snapped back, tone half-way between a snarl and a huff as he snatched the phone back from Steve.
"Auto-correct?" Steve plucked the phone from Christian again, sitting down next to him. "You could always turn it off..." He pressed a few buttons then handed it back.
"Didn't know how. Thanks."
"It's ok, I love you even if you are a caveman who can't work an iphone."
Christian huffed out a laugh and kissed Steve, one hand tangling in his hair. "How 'bout this caveman drags you back to his cave?"
"Works for me," Steve grinned against Christian's lips.
Re: Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, auto-correct is the bane of his existence
From:Re: Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, auto-correct is the bane of his existence
From:Re: Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, auto-correct is the bane of his existence
From:Re: Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, auto-correct is the bane of his existence
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:41 am (UTC)Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, running out of hot water in the middle of a shower
Date: 2011-12-29 11:20 am (UTC)Christian had followed Steve into the shower a heartbeat after the water started running, pressing Steve up against the cool tiles, hot water cascading down on them. He dropped to his knees, wet hair plastered against his face, eyelashes dark smudges against his cheeks, and curled his hands around Steve's lips.
Steve groaned, his head falling back against the tiles and his hands cradling the back of Christian's head. His hips rolled forward as Christian's lips closed around the head of his cock, sucking and teasing the bundle of nerves with his tongue.
Christian moaned around Steve's cock, pushing his hips back against the wall; one hand curling around the base as he bobbed his head, stroking and sucking and licking.
Steve was panting and moanin constantly, hands opening and closing in Christian's hair. His hips bucked and rocked with Christian's rhythm and he was close, so close; fire racing through his veins, coiling low in his belly. His mouth fell open, lips red and bitten, but all that came out was a yelp as the water pouring down on him turned cold.
Christian yelled out too, falling backwards on his ass. They slipped and stumbled around each other, rushing to turn the water off and escape the stall. Elbows, knees and feet colliding, bruising, they wrapped warm towels around each other and fell, laughing, onto the bed; using the towels to rub each other off, before tumbling together in a tangle of limbs - hands around each others cocks.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 08:41 am (UTC)Fill
Date: 2011-12-29 09:11 am (UTC)However....
Elliot stares mournfully down at the cupcakes he's just pulled out of the oven. Flat and hard as rocks they are utterly unappealing.
Nate smiles and eats one anyways, just to see Elliot smile again.
Re: Fill
From:Re: Fill
From:Re: Fill
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:10 am (UTC)Fill
Date: 2011-12-29 09:59 am (UTC)At first Arthur thinks it might be a trap by the government to capture him and force him to reveal what he knows about the others in the dreaming underground, but no.
It turns out it really is just plain old jury duty. He goes because this name is the only one not associated with anything criminal and he'd rather keep it that way.
Arthur is relieved that he isn't chosen to actually be in the jury. He's much too busy with other things to take however long out of his life to decide wether someone is guilty or not.
Everyone is guilty of something, even if it's not what they're being accused of.
Re: Fill
From:Re: Fill
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:13 am (UTC)Fill: Supernatural, Dean, spoilers for season 7
Date: 2011-12-30 10:06 pm (UTC)Dean stares down. The blackened underside of his toast looks back at him from where it lies askew on the motel floor. Crumbs and butter seep into the worn brown carpet. He can’t move.
In his head, Bobby calls him an idjit and makes him eat it anyway. A little motel floor never hurt anyone. But Bobby’s not here anymore. Dean feels his throat tighten and his ears begin to hurt, like he’s in a plane as it climbs. His eyes prickle.
He thinks he sees Cas then, sitting in the corner in his trench coat, a faintly bemused expression on his face. Hears him say: “Is it meant to be that colour?” Dean turns, and Cas isn’t there anymore. This time he really does start to cry.
The tears stream down his face, warm and wet, as he stumbles back to bed. He can’t hold it in anymore. He pulls the covers over his head and tries to breathe.
The toast stays where it is, butter-side down on the threadbare motel carpet.
Re: Fill: Supernatural, Dean, spoilers for season 7
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:32 am (UTC)Leverage, Hardison+any, "Orange Squeeze & my pc r a lethal combo, man."
no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 10:46 am (UTC)dominationpeace plans or notno subject
Date: 2011-12-29 10:50 am (UTC)a speck of dust
Date: 2012-01-02 05:26 pm (UTC)There are advantages, of course. Fitting in with everyone isn't something Gabriel would naturally adhere to, but it's a necessity here, and it lets him lead a rather fulfilling, and above all, entertaining life.
Still, there are moments when Gabriel wishes he could stretch his wings. They ache and itch in his vessel, begging for release. Gabriel resists them, because temptation is his forte, not his weakness, but it isn't easy. It doesn't matter that he lords over humans like game, and that he's still powerful in his own right; in the physical, what was once so huge is now the size of a speck of dust.
Gabriel found one freedom, but he also lost another.
Re: a speck of dust
From:Re: a speck of dust
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 10:53 am (UTC)Thor. Loki&Thor: Prince of....
Date: 2011-12-31 07:25 am (UTC)About a full body-length above him, Thor laughs. "Come on, brother. If you dedicated more time to your exercise master instead of those wicked pranks, you'd have no trouble following me."
"If I had any untried wickedness in me," Loki answers, first making sure that there's no sign of tiredness in his voice, "I'd rather be doing that."
It takes so little to make his older brother burst into laughter. "Little love, do you mean you're out of tricks?"
Secure in his new position, Loki gives a one-shouldered shrug.
Thor glances down at him, a frank, confused expression on his face. The branches that supports them wobble with a strong gust of wind, but the danger doesn't bother his older brother. "How is that bad?"
Loki's face falls, his annoyance growing as he's forced to cling to his own branch with arms and legs wound tight around the wood. "It's boring!" he snaps. "And climbing some dead tree makes it worse!"
Thor's jaw tightens. "I thought we could have enjoy the afternoon together. Forgive my mistake."
"Oh no, you don't!" Loki yells when he sees Thor starting his way down. "You convinced me to try this, and I won't let it be said I gave up in the middle of it."
"Nobody would dare...."
Loki feels his lips twist into a grudging smile. An overbearing giant, his brother may be, but not a word against Loki can be spoken in his presence. "Not to your face," he allows.
After a moment of silence, Thor starts climbing up again. "Hurry up!" he calls. "If you manage to catch me at the top, maybe you'll be able to scurry behind my back and push me down."
It takes a moment for Loki to understand, and then he breaks into a smile. It's against his instincts to play part in requested mischief, but in truth, the last few days have been boring enough to consider it.
"The worst I can do," he mutters to himself as he makes his way up to the next branch, "is to try."
Fill
Date: 2011-12-29 10:41 pm (UTC)"Beat you here," he said cheerfully. Olivia glared. "Bad night," she said shortly. "Is there any coffee?" She headed toward the coffee maker, pulled out the pot, and stared at the brownish crust in the bottom. Her nose wrinkled at the burnt odor.
At once she was hit with a wave of vertigo. Suddenly, the thought rose strong and clear in her mind: "Peter hates burnt coffee." What? Who? She put out a hand to steady herself. Lincoln, noticing, moved to her side and grasped her by the shoulder. "Liv? You okay?"
Olivia shook her head to clear it, and looked at him. "Uh, yeah, sure, just...I need coffee."
As she moved to the sink, she tried to push the unwanted, unfamiliar thought from her mind, but it persisted, like a waking dream.
Re: Fill
From:no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 11:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-29 11:38 am (UTC)