Free For All
Sep. 7th, 2012 08:16 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficWhoops! I so thought I posted yesterday! My apologies!
Have a free for all day. You all know the rules! I'm still sorting out modding, but I'm almost there. I do need more codemonkeys, so please shoot me a PM if you'd like to help.
Have fun!
Have a free for all day. You all know the rules! I'm still sorting out modding, but I'm almost there. I do need more codemonkeys, so please shoot me a PM if you'd like to help.
Have fun!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:21 pm (UTC)Mass Effect 3, Jack, Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, "He's an Ass Man" 1/2
Date: 2012-09-08 12:16 am (UTC)-----
She tilted her toward one of the many writhing bodies in the crowd, dancing to the beat of the loud club music. “I would climb that like a tree.”
“Jack!” her companion sitting across from her at the table exclaimed with a frown.
Jack rolled her eyes and snatched Shepard's drink. “You are such a pussy,” she stated, knocked back his drink then placed it in front of him. “If you can't dance, won't drink, and you're against quick fucks, what the fuck are you doing in a club?”
“Meeting with you,” he replied, honestly.
“You are so damned soft,” Jack muttered, shaking her head. “C'mon, Shepard. The whole point of this shit was to get you to relax. If you're too keyed up fighting Reapers and Cerberus fuckers, they're gonna get an easy headshot in.”
Shepard's lips quirked into a little smile. “Aww, Jack, that sounds like you care.”
“Like fuck I do,” she retorted with a glare before standing up. “I'm going out there to dance, and I'm coming back for two lays. No threesomes for me tonight, so yes, one of them is gonna be for you, you pussy.”
Then as quickly as it came, Shepard's smile turned down into a frown. “Jack, don't-”
“Not listening,” Jack replied, jumping over the booth with ease. “Unless you've god a damn good excuse that has nothing to do with calculating war assets, there's fuck all you can say to stop me. That one has a nice ass, by the bar.”
Shepard instinctively looked up then quickly away, staring at his empty glass. “Uhh...” he mumbled looking flushed even under the bad lighting.
Jack raised an eyebrow before smirking. “Ooh, Commander fucking Shepard is an ass man,” Jack announced, garnering a some looks from people close enough to hear her. “Well, then I'll make sure to bring that hot piece of ass over here. Don't fuck it up.”
Then she was gone to the upper level of the club before Shepard could stop her. Jack weaved through the crowds easily, and she even bothered not to shove dumbasses out of her way. Once she reached the bar, Jack leaned against it, right next to the man with the nice ass.
“Hey, nice ass,” she said in lieu of a proper greeting.
The man in question turned to her with a bewildered look. “I'm sorry, I'm not interested in...”
“Not me,” Jack cut in, thumbing behind her and down the stairs where Shepard was sitting. “My friend over there likes your ass. He'd climb you like a fucking tree if you buy him a drink.”
The man looked at her table and Shepard. His expression changed quite quickly as a smile came to his lips. “Oh, does he?” he murmured quietly before turning to the bartender. “Two more of what I just had.”
Mass Effect 3, Jack, Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, "He's an Ass Man" 2/2
From:Re: Mass Effect 3, Jack, Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, "He's an Ass Man" 2/2
From:Re: Mass Effect 3, Jack, Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, "He's an Ass Man" 2/2
From:no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:36 pm (UTC)Stupid Question is Stupid
Date: 2012-09-07 01:37 pm (UTC)Re: Stupid Question is Stupid
From:Re: Stupid Question is Stupid
From:Re: Stupid Question is Stupid
From:no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:26 pm (UTC)On My Mind When I Arise (River/Mal, post-Serenity, PG)
Date: 2012-09-10 07:18 am (UTC)***
Wasn't that he fell asleep on the bridge, even if night watch is the most boring thing he can conjure. He'd just been resting his eyes, that was all – and his ears too, apparently, since he'd had no notion of River being in the room too until he opened his eyes to find her face right in front of his.
“Um, River, darlin', that's just a mite creepifing.”
“Why?” she asks, moving back just enough that he can take in her whole face at once, rather than just her great big brown eyes. “You do it all the time.”
“What? Don't do any such thing!” he protests.
“You do so,” she says, perfectly unruffled. “Every time someone's hurt. Kaylee, Zoe. Even Jayne. You sit, and wait, and watch. Try to hold them together with your will, make it so they won't dare slip away with you watching.”
It's downright uncomfortable, way that girl sees into things, gets into places a man didn't even know were there. Also the way she's standing so close he couldn't get up if he wanted to, but that's not quite so bad.
“That ain't the same,” he points out. “Folks are happy to see someone there for 'em when they're hurt, they expect it. Watching someone just plain sleeping is different. And creepy,” he emphasizes once more, hoping she'll take the hint and get them both out of this situation.
River being River, she doesn't, or more likely, chooses not to. “You watched me sleep, before,” she says, her voice soft in the dimness, swallowed up by all the black. “And I wasn't hurt then.”
Mal's not quite sure sleep is the word for what she was doing then, lying cuffed to Serenity's floor, caged up like a wild thing. “Weren't hurt on the outside, maybe. You were hurting plenty on the inside, way I recall it. And how do you know what I was doing while you were out, anyhow?”
She looks at him for a long moment, still so close he can catch the scent of her hair when she shifts. “I know everything,” she says finally, like she's stating the plainest of facts. “You watched, and you worried. Thought I was broken, that I'd break you too.”
Maybe it's that he's just woken up, but something compels him to go and be honest when he shouldn't. “Still ain't sure you won't, darlin'.” Moment it's out of his mouth, he knows it's the wrong thing to say, though he's less than certain which is worse, her thinking he still sees her as a threat or her taking it in regards to the lack of distance between them, the way he meant it.
Way she smiles, quick and subtle, he knows which way she took it. “You won't break,” she says firmly, and moves away, settling herself in the other chair, watching him from further away now. “I won't let you.”
Funny, how he's finding he misses the heat of her close by; still, there's too many things to say just now, and they're all jumbled up in his brain 'til he can't possibly make sense of what's real and what's just in his head, and the possibility of something breaking – his sense of decency, her fragile peace, the rules that keep them both bound inches apart – seems more likely by the minute.
“It's alright,” she says, smiling that secretive little smile again and shaking her head just a fraction, as if to say, I can wait, and so can you. “Go back to sleep. I'll watch.”
no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:26 pm (UTC)Fill
Date: 2013-01-21 05:29 am (UTC)-
When relationships end, they leave little fault lines along every aspect of your life.
But the physical reminders are worse. Like the black hairbrush with some of Grace's red hair still coiled in it.
He drops his phone behind his bed one day and that's when he finds it, his fingertips brushing against it in the dark. He grasps it and pulls it up into the light. And just stares.
He means to give it back, but it's been so long, surely she's replaced it by now? He does try to return it, anyway, picking it up every day for weeks to take back, but something always distracts him at the last minute and he makes it to work without it.
Finally, he just shoves it in a drawer. Easy to forget about it, just like that.
Sarah finds it, cleaning his apartment one day.
"Where did this come from?"
"I don't know," he lies, not meeting her eyes.
"You're such a slob," she laughs and drops it from her slender fingers unceremoniously into the trashcan.
And he wants to leave it there, he really does.
But he can't.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-08 08:05 am (UTC)Not just bruises, really, but all the little injuries that normal people accumulate over a normal day in their normal lives. Scrapes, papercuts, sore muscles. All gone by the next time you morph, never far away.
You had a bad day yesterday at gymnastics. Fell off the balance beam, skidded over the vault, banged your ankle on the uneven bars. Coach just shook her head; Melissa patted you on the back in the locker room and told you everyone has bad days sometime. Yes, you wanted to say, but what if my next bad day gets everyone killed? You nodded and smiled, as fake as the smiles her parents give her, and went home.
Now you strip and stand in front of your mirror, your fair hair falling across your bare shoulders. You push it away, and examine closely the spots of purple that have bloomed over your upper arm and over your thigh. You crouch to prod at the swelling on your ankle, brush your fingers over the stinging raw patch on your hip. You reach across yourself to cover the bruise on your shoulder with a hand, hiding it from the world, and press down with the heel of your palm. You don't even wince; the pain is nothing.
You check that the door is locked, padding barefoot across the room, and then return to the mirror and begin to morph. You keep your eyes open, watching your palms lengthen, your skin sprout fur. You see every second of girl to cat, and do it again the other way. You reach across yourself and press down on your shoulder with the heel of your palm. You feel nothing.
You don't even wince; the pain is nothing.
From:Re: You don't even wince; the pain is nothing.
From:Re: You don't even wince; the pain is nothing.
From:no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-04-15 04:44 am (UTC)* Labeling anything as CapChow is rude
* Yes that goes for anyone else
* Clint's snack cupboard should not be filled with birdseed
* Please remember to mark your takeout leftovers by level of heat using the Scoville scale. Bruce is the only one who can tolerate your "oh it's mildly spicy."
* Decaf is nobody's friend. (note from Tony: THIS WAS NOT ME DO YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD DRINK DECAF ANYTHING??)
* If you forget Pepper is allergic to strawberries again there will be consequences
* The kitchen. Is not. Your lab.
* Let me reiterate. No Experiments in the Kitchen.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 02:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 03:28 pm (UTC)(Bonus points if fem!Loki)
no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 03:34 pm (UTC)