Dydd Mawrth: Query Me

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Good morning and welcome to Tuesday!. I’m evil_little_dog and today's theme is Query Me. All prompts should be in the form of a question.

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above mentioned spoiler cut.

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ MCU, Pepper Potts+/Tony Stark, "What do you think you're doing?!"
+ Supergirl, Kara Danvers+Any, "How fast can you run?"
+ Doctor Who, Any Doctor+Any Companion, "What do you mean, that's ridiculous?"

We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.


tag=Questions

Comments

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

MCU, Pepper Potts+/Tony Stark, "What do you think you're doing?!"

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Supergirl, Kara Danvers+Any, "How fast can you run?"

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Any Doctor+Any Companion, "What do you mean, that's ridiculous?"

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

The X-Files, Dana Scully+Fox Mulder, "Is that porn?"

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric+Any (or /Winry Rockbell), The decision lay before him/them - which way to go next?

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

Kingsman, Merlin/Eggsy, "Is it weird to call me Galahad?"

Fill: Kingsman: The Secret Service, Merlin/Eggsy Unwin - Codenames

[megan-moonlight.livejournal.com]

Surprise!fic? XD
_____

Merlin was watching all the screens, sipping his tea calmly as he followed the movement of agents they had sent on a mission to Rome two days back. It was an easy one, just getting information, but in this job, you could never be sure of anything. As soon as the message was acquired and both agents could get back, Merlin looked at the screen that was following Eggsy’s camera. The lad was... about to jump off of a bloody building again, and it looked like he was running from something or someone.

“Galahad, what is going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just gettin’ away from unwanted observers,” he heard Eggsy say, his breathing heavy and quick as he turned his head to make sure if he was still followed. “Seemed like they were too interested in what we’re doin’. I’ll be in the car in... a bit?”

“You have fifteen minutes.”

“Got it, Merlin.”

Merlin sighed as he leaned back in his chair, briefly looking at the other cameras to make sure everything was going well, before he focused on Eggsy’s camera once again. The lad was going to be the death of him. He reached for his cup again and only then noticed he was out of tea. Because of course he was.

Eggsy managed to get to the agents’ car in time, more importantly without any additional problems, and he seemed to be rather proud of that. Everything was secured and ready, and a few hours later both agents were back in the headquarters, talking to Arthur about what they had found out, and discussing the proceedings of the mission.

Merlin made another cup of tea before he got back to his office to finish his report and prepare all files to send them. It didn’t take long and just when he was finishing coding, he heard the door open quietly. He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Eggsy, because the lad walked up to his desk right away and settled on top of it, managing not to knock anything over.

“He’s takin’ the job seriously, ain’t he?” He asked, taking Merlin’s cup and drinking about half of its contents. Then he just braced one foot on Merlin’s chair and propped his chin on his bent knee.

“Who? Arthur?”

“Yeah. It’s still weird calling ‘im that, you know? He’s... Percy. I mean, I was talkin’ to Rox just now and she thinks so, too. Yesterday I called ‘im Percival during the meeting.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Merlin answered, saving the files before leaning back in the chair and turning to look at Eggsy. He took the cup Eggsy handed him, their fingers brushing together briefly, and looked at the still warm tea. “It can be difficult, yes, but this is our job.”

The silence that fell between them was not uncomfortable, however, it was emotional. He didn’t expect Eggsy’s next question at all.

"Is it weird to call me Galahad?"

Merlin looked up and saw the thoughtful look on Eggsy’s face. His expression seemed neutral, but Merlin recognized an important question when he heard one. Taking a sip of the tea he considered what to say, before sighing quietly. “I’m not sure. I know this is not what you wanted to hear, but it’s the only answer I have. Me and Harry... we had been working together for a long time and I was used to him being Galahad. We witnessed quite a few new agents joining the agency, but some things take time. If it makes you feel any better, Harry also doesn’t take being a consultant well. He keeps forgetting he’s not Galahad anymore as well.”

Eggsy smirked at that, but there were still traces of sadness in his eyes. Merlin understood. Thinking about it was still difficult for him as well. He moved his chair closer to Eggsy and took hold of one the lad’s hands, squeezing it gently before pressing a kiss to the palm.

“I’ll be done shortly,” he said, not letting go of Eggsy’s hand. “I just need to send Arthur the files and we’ll go home.”

“Sure.”

Eggsy squeezed his hand in reply and Merlin turned to the computer, sending the files quickly. They both could use an evening off.

[marlex.livejournal.com]

The Walking Dead, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene, "Is this a dream?"

[marlex.livejournal.com]

MCU, Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, "Why me?"

[marlex.livejournal.com]

Wreck-It Ralph, Ralph + Vanellope, "Where to next?"

Fill

[dreammaidenn.livejournal.com]

In the blink of an eye she's in first place. Vanellope was made to race through the candy colored tracks and be the winner. Be number one. Ralph is cheering her on, back in Sugar Rush where he sticks up like a sore. After their first meeting they've made time to get back together. To spend a day in each other's world. Each keeping up with their coded roles.

Even when Ralph is the designated bad guy, Vanellope has made him feel like there is something inherently good inside him unaccountable times. Ralph is sure they'l always by the side of their greatest friend. Vanellope is named the winner of the race, and she smiles brightening everything up. Ralph pumps his fist up in the air in victory.

[marlex.livejournal.com]

A Song of Ice and Fire, Jon Snow/Arya Stark, "Who do we kill first?"

[marlex.livejournal.com]

any, any, "What just happened?"

Fill: SGA/Dollhouse

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

What just happened?

John rose up from the control chair, dazed. One moment he'd been listening to Rodney and Zelenka squabbling about the chair and individual aptitude for interfacing with the chair, the next he'd been.

Deep.

Somewhere in his own head.

He wasn't alone. Atlantis was talking to him. Warm. Soothing. But there was someone else in there with him. Multiple someones. They had just awakened, like the Wraith. And they were hungry. For touch. For interaction. For life. John waded into battle.

Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner.

He was alone. He was outnumbered. He was crazy. He had double sets of memories. Not just the lie about the burn scar on his wrist, hidden by his wristband (which he knew he could never ever ever take off.) He was going to lose this fight.

Sometimes I feel like my only friend is the city I live in.

Then Atlantis was beside him, crooning in his ear, whispering promises. She could see the foreign architecture in his brain, see the hardware and the software. There were viruses in the software. She would quarantine them and delete them if he wanted.

The city of angels.

She would save him.

But he needed to understand them, to comprehend what was going on. So Atlantis explored, and she explained. He was many people. He was a shattered reflection of himself, broken and rearranged and patched over so he would be perfect, be exactly what Patrick Sheppard had paid for.

He was a doll.

Lonely as I am, together we cry.

Atlantis picked up the pieces, fitted them back together as best as she could. But she couldn't do it all at once. She could work on it, if he let her stay with him. So he rose out of the chair, and the display shut off. Rodney squawked indignantly, but there were other things John had to get done.

"You can't just cut me off like that," Rodney called after him.

John wasn't cut off from the city. When he flew in the puddle jumpers, she was with him, murmuring about flight controls, heads up displays.

I drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion.

When John roamed the corridors on night patrols, ostensibly alone but with mistrustful marines trailing behind him (because he'd killed the man they looked up to, their natural leader), Atlantis let him know he was safe.

I walk through her hills 'cause she knows who I am.

When John sat on the balcony outside his quarters and gazed up at the stars and imagined them winking out one by one as the Wraith spread across galaxies, the Wraith he'd awoken even after Elizabeth told him not to go, Atlantis hummed beneath him and promised him she'd help him defeat them. He had it in him to save them all.

She sees my good deeds and she kisses me windy.

While John went about his duties, Atlantis whispered in the back of his head, brushed and caressed, made sure that the imprints inside of him stayed still and quiet so he could function. Nothing was amiss. He was just fine as the expedition's military commander.

I never worry.

If one of the imprints cried out in the dark, in the middle of the night, John didn't mind. He was himself, and the imprints were a distant memory. Whatever the Dollhouse had tried to do to him, he had overcome it. He was fine.

Now that is a lie.

Every time John sat down in the control chair, he knew Atlantis was there to fully merge with him, help him and protect him.

Under the bridge downtown is where I drew some blood.

If he clenched his hands into fists so hard he drew blood, no one knew but him.

Under the bridge downtown I could not get enough.

But he had to visit Atlantis in the chair. He couldn't do this without her.

Under the bridge downtown forgot about my love.

After the disaster with Chaya, he knew he needed to make sure that the imprints stayed buried deep, because they could overwhelm him, break him, ruin whatever it was he had left (and some days it didn't feel like a lot.)

Under the bridge downtown I gave my life away.

Every time John sat down in that chair, he knew Atlantis would be there to build him up, help him, but he could never quite get rid of the lingering fear that when he sat down in that chair, he would be wiped away.

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

any Whedonverse. any. You are helping us?

Fill: Dollhouse/Stargate Atlantis

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

John turned a corner, Ceccoli trotting along behind him. Apparently he'd imprinted Sierra, Echo, and Kilo with skills desirable to the SGC and left them under the mountain for their own safety while he was off in Pegasus trying to make a new chair. Now that Atlantis was back on Earth, Ceccoli thought it would a great idea to have a Dollhouse reunion and see about all of them maybe relocating to Pegasus permanently. If the IOA would let the city go (which, after only two weeks, John was seriously doubting would happen).

"I contacted Harriman at the SGC," Ceccoli said. "He agreed to have the Daedalus beam them down here as soon as possible."

John nodded. "Excellent. Take a squadron of marines and –"

"John."

He froze at the sound of his first handler's voice. Then he turned slowly. "Nancy?"

She stood in the doorway to the control tower, beautiful as he remembered, pristine and professional in a perfectly-tailored dress suit.

Ceccoli fell into parade rest behind him.

"What are you doing here?" John asked. The incredulity in his voice was genuine; the wannabe actor was there to make sure none of his terror bubbled to the surface.

"I'm here to help you," she said.

"You are helping us?" John eased a hand toward his sidearm as subtly as he could.

Nancy didn't notice. "The IOA has plans to completely strip Atlantis of all its technology except for the bare minimum it needs to defend Earth."

John narrowed his eyes. "Since when do you have security clearance to know about the IOA or Atlantis?"

"Since the Navy set up a quarantine in San Francisco Bay," Nancy said. "Homeworld Sec is looking to come public with the program, and I work at the Pentagon. They enlisted help from my division."

"And they sent you?"

"Because I know you," she said. "I really am here to help."

"Help how?"

"Help you escape with the city."

John glanced at Ceccoli, who looked genuinely confused. Right. He didn't know about John's past handlers. John looked back at Nancy. "How do you plan to help with that?"

"We don't have time, John. I need you to come with me." She offered him a hand, and the gesture resonated deep inside of him. She was trying to trigger his handler responses.

What she meant was Rossum wanted the city, and they thought they had the key to the city in their complete and utter control.

John shook his head. "I don't have time for that. Woolsey has assigned me to oversee as many repairs to the city as possible, and since I have the highest CIA score, I have to run the deep diagnostic."

A spasm of impatience crossed Nancy's face, but it was gone so quickly John almost thought he'd imagined it. She kept her hand outstretched and said, "Do you trust me?"

With my life, was poised on the tip of his tongue. But he said, "I barely trust anyone these days. We've been divorced a long time. I have work to do." He tapped his radio. "Security, get a security escort for Ms. - what's your new name, Nancy?"

Confusion crossed her face. "John," she said sharply, "do you trust me?"

"No," he said, "but I try to be my best."

Nancy's confusion turned to fear as the boot steps of marines echoed in the corridors.

"Search her for communication devices and stick her in a holding cell," John said. "I'll deal with her later."

The marines nodded and dragged Nancy away. John turned to Ceccoli. "Change of plans. I'll meet your team from the SGC. Fire up your Topher imprint and get to a computer. Download the images of everyone you've ever seen at the Dollhouse or a Rossum function into the security system and upload that facial recognition software Rodney was working on. She won't be the last one they send."

Ceccoli nodded and peeled away from him.

John straightened his shoulders and stepped into the control tower just as a beam from the Daedalus lit the room. When the light dissolved, three women coalesced. John recognized them immediately.

Sierra turned toward him, face lit, but her expression turned to disappointment when Ceccoli - Victor - wasn't there to greet her.

Echo's eyes narrowed. "Foxtrot?"

"Call me John," he said. "Welcome to Atlantis."

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

any book. any. Why are you doing this?

Fill: Shadowhunters, Simon Lovelace, Alec Lightwood

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

"Why are you doing this?" Simon backed away rapidly.

Alec advanced, menacing, the baby in his arms. "You can't avoid it forever. You have to hold your nephew sometime."

"Almost-nephew," Simon said. "Isabelle and I aren't married yet."

Alec shrugged one shoulder. "It's only a matter of time. Now come on, get used to it. Shadowhunters are expected to have many children to carry on our bloodlines."

"With the Academy re-opened and the Mortal Cup back in circulation, surely smaller families are the natural social evolutionary next step." Simon backed up.

"You're a Shadowhunter. You have the reflexes of a cat. A baby will not defeat you." Alec advanced.

"A magical baby might," Simon protested, and backed up. He hit the wall.

Alec smiled, smug, and he'd planned this, hadn't he? Literally backed Simon into a corner. "Still just a baby."

And then Simon's arms were full of squirming blue infant. Who promptly spat up on him.

Casting a long-suffering look at the ceiling, Simon said, "Why is it always me?"

Alec brightened. "I know that one. Harry Potter reference, right?"

Simon would have banged his head against the wall, but that would have resulted in him dropping the baby and his future brother-in-law kicking his ass. Instead, he resigned himself to rocking the baby and singing the closing theme to Cowboy Bebop as a lullaby.

The baby fell asleep, and Simon thought that maybe one day he could do this after all.

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

Veronica Mars. Veronica/Logan. Do you believe me?

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

Buffyverse. Buffy/Angel. Is this forever?

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

any. any. Where do we go from here?

Fill 1/2: SGA/Dollhouse, John Sheppard, OCs

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

(Some dialogue straight from SGA Ep 5x20)

When John saw the smoke rising from what used to be Area 51, he knew the truth before Carter said it. The chair had been destroyed. Immediately the physicist began plotting. There was still a way to destroy the ship. The others broke into squabbles about the condition of his 302, how much fuel he had left, what he'd have to do to make sure the hive ship wouldn't detect him. If he fired up too early, they'd send darts, and he'd die. If he fired up too late, Earth would be slaughtered, and then he would die. Either way, he was going to die. He might as well die usefully.

So he told Carter his plan - their plan.

"John, I can't ask you to do that." Carter sounded like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Well, you're not asking, I'm volunteering." John could only feel the weight of a hundred imprints at the edges of his mind. They were all saying goodbye to each other. "Look, without that chair, Earth is basically defenseless, right?"

Carter's silence was all the answer he needed.

"Commencing radio silence. Sheppard out."

*

The imprints were quiet while they hovered in space, waiting for the hive ship to come into range. Usually when he flew, most of them tagged along just behind his consciousness, thrilled with the speed and the force and the fact that they got to be fighter pilots (Topher had had a thing for "Top Gun", and most of the imprints loved flying).

But they fell silent when he fired up the engines once more. "It's time to get moving." He said it for them as much as for Carter.

Once inside the dart bay, John started arming the warhead, setting a timer. "Stargate Command, this is Sheppard. Come in."

Carter's voice was welcome. "Sheppard, where are you?"

"I made it inside. Look, I don't have much time before this place is swarming with Wraith, so I'm arming the nuke."

"John -"

"Do me a favor. That thing I asked you to do. Send it." He'd given her a journal, one Joe had filled over his three and a half years in Pegasus. It was addressed to his mother. It was the last goodbye John could offer under the circumstances.

Carter murmured an order to a marine, and then she said, "It's done."

"And when Atlantis shows up," he added, "tell them I said goodbye."

Carter was silent. One by one, the imprints started saying goodbye to him. Joe said, Thank you.

And then Rodney's voice burst over his radio, and the imprints cheered.

*

Amelia Flanigan was terribly confused when a man in a fancy blue Air Force uniform knocked on her door and gave her a package. He admitted he didn't know what was in it, just that he'd been ordered to deliver it. He wished her a good day and departed from her doorstep.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard + any, how could things get any worse?

Fill 1/2: SGA/Dollhouse, John Sheppard + Rodney McKay

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

John made it back to his quarters without breaking his fragile composure. As soon as he was inside and the door was closed, he sank down on his bed and buried his face in his hands. Short of a Wraith attack, how could things get any worse? Ceccoli had built an imprint chair. He had even more advanced, dangerous imprint tech lying around. What if the Genii got ahold of it? Or worse, what if the IOA did? John knew he was safe only because he was so far from Earth. He would be very surprised if Rossum hadn't infiltrated the IOA. Ceccoli's little side project had brought John so close to being discovered. John realized he was breathing hard, his entire body was shaking. He was having a panic attack. He sat up straight and closed his eyes, summoned the English teacher imprint. He needed to calm down, to meditate.

He shouldn't have left Ceccoli alone. He should have sent some marines to watch him. Maybe even should have had Ceccoli dismissed and had the marines destroy everything instead.

John reached for his radio, asked Amelia to patch him through to security. He ordered a team of marines back to Ceccoli's location to make sure the chair was destroyed, and also the remote wipe/imprint device with it. Once Stackhouse confirmed the orders were received and promised to give him a status update once destruction of the devices was achieved, John switched off his radio and set it aside.

And tried to calm down.

He was just settling into his breathing cycle when his door hissed open.

John opened his eyes and reached for his weapon without thinking.

"Whoa, easy!" It was Rodney. "I'm not your enemy."

John forced himself to leave his sidearm where it was. "Now's not a really good time."

"You weren't answering your radio. I was worried." Rodney edged closer.

John sighed and reached down to take off his boots. "Aren't you supposed to be resting up for your big Sunday with Keller?"

"I needed to talk to you. About Sergeant Ceccoli's project," Rodney said.

John shook his head. "I handled it." He needed Rodney to leave him alone. He stripped off his socks and laid his boots at the foot of his bed, like he did before going to sleep every night.

Of course, Rodney was oblivious to social cues at the worst moments. "I know about Rossum."

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, any, can you forgive me?

Fill: MCU, Lady Sif/Darcy Lewis - A Date

[megan-moonlight.livejournal.com]

Darcy put her bag on the floor and sat down on the couch. Well, it looked like she had the place for herself after all. She could watch films or listen to music, order pizza and just enjoy herself, but that was not how the day was supposed to go. She should have probably gotten used to it by then. Nothing was easy when you were dating an Asgardian.

She wasn’t blaming Sif or anything. Why would she, when Sif was helping Hogun, Volstagg and Frandral with... whatever they needed her help with? Sif was an awesome friend and an awesome person in general. They had met and Sif had told her she would be back as soon as she’d be able to, and Darcy had said she would be waiting. After they had kissed, Sif caressing Darcy’s cheek and ear gently, Darcy had mentioned that Sif would owe her. The half-smile had appeared on the warrior’s face right then and she had pressed her lips against Darcy’s once again, full of promise. So Darcy had left and was now sitting by herself, wondering what to do. She already told everyone not to bother her because she and Sif had a date so... maybe pizza and DVR it was, after all.

Ordering the biggest pizza she could find, as well as fries and cheese sticks, was a great idea. She was also pleasantly surprised to find a few awful horror films to watch, which she assumed was Jane’s work. Sometimes bad films and pizza were the best option ever.

About two hours later she was about to start a film about a giant shark-monster when she heard someone knocking. After putting a plate on the table she went to check what was going on.

What she was not expecting to see was Sif, who still had her weapon with her, holding two strawberry milk shakes from her favourite place and a bag of what she assumed were muffins. She looked a bit lost, as if she wasn’t sure what to do with everything she was holding, and Darcy leaned against the doorframe.

“I have settled Volstagg’s and Fandral’s quarrel,” Sif said. “I hope I am not late for this... date? Lady Jane suggested I bring these for you.” She seemed to be wondering if she chose the right words and Darcy bit her lower lip.

She let Sif inside, taking the bag from her, and led her to the living room. After she put everything on the table, and Sif put her sword and shield aside, they both settled on the couch. Darcy stretched her legs, propping her feet on the coffee table as she leaned back comfortably, and Sif was just sitting there looking at Darcy.

“Is something wrong?” Darcy asked.

“I am sorry I interrupted our plans.”

Darcy caught the other woman’s hand and pulled her in a quick kiss. “I told you it’s fine. You never know when the world would need you, right?”

“Can you forgive me?”

"Nothing to forgive,” Darcy said and moved to snag one muffin from the table, taking a bite. “But we’re spending this weekend together. And I’m choosing what we’re doing. How does that sound?”

Sif wrapped one arm around Darcy’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Wonderful.”

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, are you kidding me right now?

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Brooklyn Nine-Nine, any +/any, "Wait - what?"

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any (except Supernatural, any +/ any, "Oh, I am, am I?"

Fill 1/2: SGA/Dollhouse, John and the Sheppards

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

The Sheppards had tried to raise their sons to be the perfect white-collar boys. Each was supposed to have a talent outside the home - sports, academics - and a talent inside the home - music. First son the heir, second son the spare. First son the businessman, second son the soldier. (John was glad there hadn't been a third one. Couldn't imagine anyone in the family as a man of the cloth.) John's athletic talent was golf - he'd started playing at six. As for his talent inside the home, his mother had attempted to teach him all the traditional things - art, poetry, even ballroom dancing. Music. The only thing that had stuck was the guitar, and decidedly not classical guitar at that.

But there had always been a grand piano in the home, because during dinner parties it was appropriate to have soothing accompaniment, and the Sheppards had to have the best.

After Patrick Sheppard's funeral, after talking with Dave about the will, after Rossum minions took John back to the Dollhouse for a diagnostic (which he passed with flying colors; thank you, Atlantis), John was back at the house where Dave's family was gathered, still mourning the loss of their patriarch. He'd been called to DC for a briefing, was the cover story. But he still had a few days with his family before he shipped out again. Couldn't stay long. He was mission-critical. But he did want to spend time with them.

(As far as the Dollhouse was concerned, he was stationed under Cheyenne Mountain doing something more militarily significant than deep-space telemetry with his - Joe's - math skills, and while they hadn't been able to get a handler in with him, his continued safety meant the Sheppards were still paying for him, and if everyone was happy, this one breach in protocol would continue unprotested.)

So he wandered into one of the formal sitting rooms where the piano was, and he sat down, and he began to play. One of his nieces wandered up, and he switched from a Mozart sonata to Billy Joel's "Always a Woman". His niece, Clara, sat on the piano bench beside him and watched him play, fascinated, and because she was an innocent kid in all this, John wanted to be nice to her, so he sang to her. She smiled and swayed with the music.

The song drew others into the room slowly. Dave stood in the doorway, looking perplexed, but his wife smiled fondly at the sight of her daughter bonding with her generally estranged uncle.

John shouldn't have been surprised when Nancy slipped into the room and watched him with wary eyes. The Dollhouse had sent her to make sure nothing went awry with him before he shipped out.

Dave said, "I didn't know you could play piano."

John deliberately furrowed his brow. "Mom was always after me to cultivate an appropriate talent for the home. All those years of piano lessons finally stuck, I guess."

Dave looked confused.

Nancy said, "John, you're so impossible."

"Oh I am, am I?" He grinned and sang, She is frequently kind and suddenly cruel.

Nancy cast Dave a pointed look and then said to John, "It's really unfair, how many talents you do have. Especially when you keep them a secret."

John chuckled. "I'd hardly call my piano-playing a secret. One of my friends at Stanford - kid named Joe, dropped out after first year, came from a sad family situation - he loved to play. Convinced me it was the way to woo women." He met Nancy's gaze. "Helped me woo you."

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any (except Supernatural), any +/ any, "Did someone say 'selfie'?"

Fill, Marvel, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Say Cheese!

[dreammaidenn.livejournal.com]

"You're absolutely insane," Peter says, struggling against Wade's grip.

"Oh, come on, Spidey, this is the perfect selfie opportunity. The Internet will go nuts."

Peter rolls his eyes underneath his mask, hoping Wade feels his annoyance. Being caught in his own web, several feet above ground at Wade's mercy is scary. Even more when one of his cameras is glued to the wall in front of them and Wade plans on taking full advantage of it.

"You know you want to," Wade tells him, cornering him, breath warm against his cheek.

"No, you're wrong."

"You sure?"

Peter nods defiantly. And that was a foolish move because then his mask is being pulled up until his lips are uncovered, and then Wade's own lips are upon his. So fucking warm and perfect and it's so annoying how right Wade was.

Peter can hear the flash distinctly on the background, but he's too busy being kissed by Wade to do anything else. He melts into it, holding onto both of Wade's arms to keep upright. Their chests pressed together. He can totally feel Wade's pleased grin, and if it wasn't because he's being kissed senseless then he'd fight him on it. But no, he keeps kissing him, and kissing him until his knees feel weak.

When Wade pulls away, Peter falls into Wade. He blinks, and stares. Holy fuck.

"Yay, we did it, babe!" Wade exclaims, checking back the pictures on the camera a bit later. "These are perfect for Instagram."

Peter is too dazed to protest.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Star Trek (any tv), any doctor + any, "I'm a doctor not an illusionist! How am I supposed to treat a non-corporeal life form?"

Fill: (Drabble): McCoy + Spock

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

“It is clearly unwell, Doctor, and therefore comes within your remit.”

“And how do you propose I do that? Can’t we call Scotty in and let him run some of his diagnostics and wave one of his electrical thingies around?”

“Thingies, Doctor? Is that a medical term?”

“Of course. I can ask any competent nurse for a thingy and she instantly produces the instrument I need.”

Spock merely raised his eyebrows.

McCoy finished what could loosely be termed an examination. “I believe it is just tired. I prescribe whatever its equivalent of bed rest is. Which is your problem, Spock.”

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any (except Supernatural), any +/ any, "H-how? Why? What?"

[tigriswolf]

Marvel movies, ex-Winter Soldier, have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?

Fill: (Double Drabble) MCU, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

He was used to being touched: clinically, roughly. His Hydra handlers pushed him into the chair, pushed him into the cryo chamber, struck him when he spoke out of turn. The doctors patched him up after missions, if the serum hadn’t already healed him.

He was used to being touched: intimately, possessively. As an assassin a lot of his work happened from a distance, which was preferable, but sometimes he had to play a part to get close to his target. Seducing men, women…some touched him like they owned him, others with physical appreciation.

Steve was the first person who touched him: softly, reverently, knowingly. Steve knew him in a way he didn’t even know himself. Steve cared for him in a way no-one else ever had, even if there was no reason for him to do so.

It was just a hand, clasping his own, but he had to close his eyes against the sudden sting of tears. Had to curl his other arm around his stomach to try and keep from coming apart. He wasn’t used to feeling so much. Didn’t know how to express anything but anger.

“It’s okay, Buck. I’ve got you. I’ve got you now.”