Friday Free For All

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

And here we are again, another Friday and another Free For All - Any fandom, any characters, any theme and any prompts... the only limitation is your imagination!

I'm sure you all know the guidelines by now but just as a reminder:
No more than 5 prompts in a row and no more than 3 prompts per fandom. (Of course, if one of your prompts is answered, you can prompt again)
No spoiler prompts for a week after its aired - and, if your ficlet contains spoilers, put a warning in bold and leave three spaces. This is especially important since we've hit premiere season with tv shows.

Please remember our code monkeys and use the correct formatting of prompts, i.e.

Supernatural, John Winchester & Ellen Harvelle, that's just what kids do
RPS/Leverage, Steve Carlson/Alec Hardison, poptarts are not a decent breakfast

If nothing today is taking your fancy, don't forget our Lonely Prompts

That's all from me - have fun!

Comments

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, John Winchester & Ellen Harvelle, that's just what kids do

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

RPS/Leverage, Steve Carlson/Alec Hardison, poptarts are not a decent breakfast

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, bare back riding

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

"This isn't what I thought you had in mind," Steve stared up at the mare that Chris straddled. His ass rested on the horse's bare back.

"Never know," Chris smirked. He leaned down and pulled Steve up behind him. He pushed into Steve's groin. His grin widened as Steve's fingers clamped on his hips.

"Who knows, cowboy, you may just get to ride me next." Chris laughed and nudged his boots into the horse's sides.

"Cocktease," Steve growled, reaching down to cup Chris' cock.

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson/Jeffrey Dean Morgan, enough foreplay - get over here and lay your hands on me!

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

Bones, Angela/Hodgins, I just know

SPOILERS

[daria234.livejournal.com]

SPOILERS for 5.02






"Dude, he's totally into you."

"I do not believe that to be the case, Jimmy, but thank you for your concern."

"Give me a break, Cas, look at the way he looks at you!"

"Perhaps he likes your eyes, Jimmy."

"Yeah, trust me, when you went on vacay, Dean sure didn't look at me like that. Besides, why would he give you jewelry if he didn't love you?"

"That is not what happened, Jimmy."

"And boy does he love it when you take control."

"Jimmy... I am beginning to think you are a little too invested in the ... development of Dean and my relationship."

"Yeah, sorry, Cas, if you wanted privacy, you should have set up shop in a dead body."

"A dead body cannot give permission. Also... ew."

"Look, Cas, no offense, but your circles are not exactly filled with dating opportunites. Dean's pretty much your best option. I've been stabbed and blown up and strangled and shot and the least you could do is let my body have a little fun once in a while."

"Jimmy, when we first met, you were not so concerned with these things."

"Yeah, you know how humans eat regularly? We also take care of other needs regularly. So anyway, when you make your move, ask Dean if he would spend a little extra time on my nipples - "

"Jimmy. It's not happening."

"Cas. I'm not attracted to Dean. Which means that what I'm 'feeling' - it comes from you. So you can make us both happy and you can make Dean happy too. Win win win. Come on, Cas, you're thousands of years old, isn't it time for your first threesome?"

"Why would you think this would be my first?"

"....Seriously?"

Cas sighed. "Sometimes I really miss the others in my garrison. The things Anna could do with her tongue.... Hey, do you think she taught Dean anything?"

"Come on, Cas. You know you want to find out."

[smaragdbird.livejournal.com]

When Jensen comes back from getting breakfast, Misha opens his door only dressed in one of Jensen’s shirts. It’s a bit embarrasssing to admit how fast the sight arouses him since he’s seen Misha in all states of dressed from fully clothed to completely naked. Still, Misha has never before worn his clothes and it’s sexy as hell. Jensen puts the breakfast on a nearby table and grabs Misha by the lapels of his shirt.
"you look good in my clothes" He purrs.
‚I look good in everything.‘ Misha counters with a smug grin: ‚If you’ll get me a new coffee later I’ll let you fuck me in this.‘
Jensen already has him halfway in the bedroom before ‚Deal‘ even leves his lips.

[amathela.livejournal.com]

Wizards Of Waverly Place, Justin/Alex, the truth is out there

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

RPS, Chris/Steve, one of them has the flu

(which of course has nothing to with the fact that I've had the flu since Tuesday)

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

"I'm dying," Christian insisted, his lower lip sticking out in a pout.

Steve tried to hold back his laughter as he handed Christian a steaming bowl of chicken soup. "Dying?"

Christian nodded and pulled the blanket tighter around him. "Dying," he confirmed, sniffling sadly.

"Poor baby. Eat your soup, it'll make you feel better."

"Your sympathy knows no bounds." Christian rolled his eyes and sighed; groaning when the sigh triggered a coughing fit that left him doubled over.

Steve was next to him in an instant, taking the bowl from his hands and placing it on the floor before rubbing his back. "Breathe," he murmured, moving to sit behind Christian on the couch and pull him close; Christian's back to his chest.

Christian relaxed back against him, head resting on Steve's shoulder. He sighed, his eyes sliding closed as Steve wrapped an arm around him, brushing his hair from his face. "My head hurts."

"I know." Steve pressed a kiss to Christian's forehead. "You're burning up."

"Yeah." Christian yawned and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"C'mon, lets get you back to bed."

"If I wasn't so fuckin' tired, I'd take you up on that one."

Steve laughed as he pulled Christian up from the couch. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him into the bedroom, settling him in bed. Steve joined him, sitting with his back against the wall.

Christian wriggling around so his head was on Steve's lap. "Stay?" He whispered.

Steve nodded, his fingers stroking through Christian's hair. "Get some sleep," he murmured.

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

AtS, Lindsey/Spike, I smell her on you

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/author's choice, healthy food won't kill you

[shannonrita.livejournal.com]

Leverage/AU, Eliot/Bartender!Imari, Healthy food won't kill you!

Imari saw this and RAN. So of course I had to torment him

Imari eyed the plate in front of him and wrinkled his nose. He poked a piece of perfectly steamed carrot experimentally and then set his fork down, putting his hands in his lap.

Eliot just sighed. "Ya know, eatin' normal healthy food once in a blue moon isn't gonna send you to your grave."

"I'm full of preservatives and artificial colors though. My system would pro'ly go into shock."

"Imari...."

"I can make my own supper. You don't have to go through all this, really -"

"Dry stuffin' out of a box or a bag ain't supper."

"Well neither is carrots. An' what's....this?"

"It's asparagus. Try 'em, they're good."

"They're green..."

Eliot sighed and thumped his head on the kitchen counter repeatedly. "Ain't now way in hell you're 40 years old."

Imari just blinked at him.

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

Leverage/AtS, Eliot/Lindsey, please tell me you didn't do what I think you did

these are not the nights we deserve, Leverage/Angel the Series, Eliot/Lindsey, tell me you didn't

[pesha.livejournal.com]

Nights in the States seem longer than those they spent in Nepal. There is no kind of peace for him in this place. He dreams every night –nightmares, visions of death and Hell, excruciating episodes where Angel cuts him apart piece by piece- and his screams wake Eliot, frequently sending him into quiet rages that scare Lindsey as much as they flatter him.

Eliot offers nearly every night to enact some sort of violent revenge against Angel. Lindsey worries that the night will come when he can no longer refuse his offers. He hopes that the control he gained from his travels stays with him because he's already walked the road that Eliot wants to travel down. Lindsey knows there's no good to come from fighting with Angel; the vampire has already been damned by better souls than theirs.

He's shaking when he wakes up but at least he's not screaming. Eliot has never gotten used to the screaming. Lindsey wants to laugh it off, push the fear aside by sharing his tiny triumph with his lover, but Eliot isn't in the bed. The bathroom light is off and the bedroom door is open and Eliot is not in the room and Lindsey can't quite breathe because he has to still be dreaming except he isn't. He isn't dreaming and Eliot isn't there.

"Hey now, none of that," Eliot mutters, striding in with the most welcome scowl Lindsey has ever seen and Lindsey chokes on his laughter because he can breathe again to laugh again because he is not dreaming and Eliot is still with him.

He tries to fight back the shakes as Eliot strokes his back, hands broad and familiar on his tense muscles. Lindsey focuses on Eliot while his panic recedes. Once he would have found it odd to find such comfort from loving a man who shares his face, but once Lindsey was a poor boy from nowhere where no one had ever dreamed that vampires could be real or Nepal could be the most beautiful place on God's green Earth. He has learned to accept whatever comforts he's blessed with at face value: pun intended and appreciated as such.

"I'm sorry."

Eliot shushes him, rubs his neck, and leans in close so Lindsey can feel the warmth of his body. He knows Eliot is tired of his apologies, his endless promises that he will get better; Lindsey does not deserve him and this is something he knows too.

Lindsey allows himself to be petted, comforted, held until time has passed enough for him to realize that something about this situation is wrong, simply wrong, and when he does it takes him long moments more to realize what: Eliot is not angry. His lover seems calm, in fact. Lindsey considers all the reasons why this could be true and discards every option until he notices the case has moved.

The case with the amulet has been moved and Lindsey knows it wasn't him. He knows better. He's walked many a road in his life and he knows better than to walk the one that leads to another fight with Angel.

"Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did."

Eliot shrugs behind him, unaware of the danger they both may be in, "I figure the bastard has it coming. Why not mail him a little care package for old time's sake? He gives you nightmares. I say we give him some right back. See how he likes it."

He wants to laugh, to cry, possibly to throw up the wonderful meal Eliot had cooked the night before. Lindsey settles for sighing. Eliot is a man of action; Lindsey couldn't have expected less than this small rebellion from the Leave-Angel-Alone rule.

"I have a feeling we're both going to live to regret this."

Eliot presses closer to him, chest tight to Lindsey's back and Lindsey can feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating out a soothing distraction from this new worry.

"I'll never live to regret you," he promises.

Lindsey hopes he's right even as he fears he's wrong. He does not deserve Eliot; this is a fact Lindsey knows but that doesn't seem to change things and, for that, Lindsey can only be grateful.

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

RPS, Chris/Steve, come back to bed

*insert mpreg warning here*

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

"What are you doing?" Steve mumbled, blinking blearily. He leaned against the door frame, watching Christian, and yawning wide enough that his jaw cracked.

Christian looked over his shoulder and grinned fondly at Steve. ""What's it look like I'm doing?" He was barefoot, clad in a navy tanktop and a loose pair of pyjama pants hanging low across the gentle swell of his belly. His hair was loose, curling around his shoulders, held back from his face with a bandana. There was a smudge of cream paint across one cheek and he held a paintbrush in his hand. "Go back to bed, darlin'"

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. "Why're you painting the baby's room at four in the morning."

Christian dropped the brush back into the can of paint and turned to face Steve. "Dunno," he shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Worried about the scan tomorrow?"

"No," Christian scowled, then sighed and nodded. "Maybe. Yes?"

Steve sighed and stepped forward, pulling Christian into his arms. "You should rest," he whispered against Christian's lips. "Come back to bed."

"I don't need to rest," Christian complained. "I'm pregnant, not sick."

"I know," Steve kissed him deeply, one hand dropping to rest lightly on his belly. "And maybe I just want you in my bed..." He trailed off, taking Christian's hand in his own and tangling their fingers together. "Come back to bed baby," he repeated, leading Christian back to their bedroom.

[amathela.livejournal.com]

RPF, Demi Lovato/Selena Gomez, D.E.B.S.

[severus-falter.livejournal.com]

Selena is obviously Lucy, amirite?

Or maybe I'm just thinking that because of Alex :/ Selena irl seems like she might be a bit too perfectionist and fit Amy better. But Demi... Well Demi does seem to be the broken-winged bird-type like Lucy.

Is that how you pictured it?

[momma-66.livejournal.com]

Follows this comment_fic here (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/75615.html?thread=17504351#t17504351)

Dean laughed when Sam tossed his mountain of papers needing to be graded on Dean's desk. "Tell me again why I agreed to Freshmen History?"

"Cause you're a bleeding heart Sammy and Singer asked you and you..." Dean grinned spreading his arms out.

"Couldn't say no," Sam grumbled sitting down. "It's not their concept of History that makes me cringe. It's that they don't think proper grammar and spell check is necessary. Do you know how-"

"Don't care Sam. It's your Freshmen History, not mine." Dean smirked, "anyways you're on your own today. I've got two kids in detention and there aint no way I'm leaving them alone."

"Isn't," Sam automatically responded.

Dean chuckled and Sam yelled after him, "jerk!"

"Bitch," Dean threw over his shoulder with a wave of his hand.

Dean walked into the shop where he had his Impala parked. "First," he barked to the two students, "you're changing her oil. Then you're gonna wash her." They glared at each other. Castiel more glaring, Lilth more smirking.

"I really don't think it's appropriate for you to have students wash your car Dean." Lilth flashed him with her 'I'll humor you- for now' smile.

"It's inappropriate to call the professor by his first name," Cas muttered. "Doesn't stop you."

Dean was sure he heard, "stick up your ass," from Lilth but he couldn't be sure.

"Fine," Dean suppressed a sigh, "change her oil and get home. Do it together and do it quietly. I don't want any repeats from class." The students exchanged glances, Lilth shrugged and went for the jack.

"Get the oil and filter Cas." Castiel bristled and shot a death-glare to Dean. Dean shrugged, kid needed to suck it up. Though Dean didn't like hearing his nickname coming from someone else's mouth.

Dean went back to his classroom to gather supplies, he was still gonna wash the Impala while he had it in the shop. Whether the students helped or not.

"Seriously, how did Castiel get detention?" Sam was looking out the classroom window. Dean followed his gaze, Castiel was arguing, in that quiet not really arguing way he had, with Lilth about who should jack up the car.

"I am a girl Cas, not an invalid. Back off!" Lilth's voice floated through the open door.

"That is the reason right there. Got in a fight with Lilth. Had to give them both detention. Lilth did, I'm not really sure what but Cas told her to keep her hands to herself and then might have called her a whore. I don't know. Pretending to have selective hearing on that one."

Sam scoffed, "you know it's only your class he's like this in."

Dean waved it off, "whatever."

"Really Dean," Sam gave him a look. "Kid doesn't act out anyone else's class."

"What are you trying to say. I don't provoke the guy. Damn Sammy give me a break." Dean glared, "I've got the hots, I'm not out to get him."

Sam smirked, "not what I'm saying at all."

Dean's brow furrowed, "then wh- Oh," he smirked. "Gotcha."

[oteap.livejournal.com]

SPN, angel!Dean/author's choice, it sucks to be an angel

[ltec.livejournal.com]

'So all we have to do is sing and listen to prayers', Dean proclaims.

'WE praise Dean, we do not sing'.

'Cas, this sucks'.

'Dean, do not blaspheme'.

'We could you know praise together'.

'Dean angels do not have bodies to practice pleasures of the flesh'.

'Cas, I do not know how to explain to you how much this sucks'.

'Then be silent'.

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

DCU, Tim Drake/author's choice, "I never meant it to be like this"

[dixid.livejournal.com]

Tim rechecked the address that Oracle had provided and then quickly pushed the doorbell before he could change his mind. He’d been wavering on whether or not to answer the request for assistance. Oracle had provided any details of the mission. Just a brief note saying it required skills that only he possessed, and an address. On one hand, he didn’t want to be pulled away from his quest of finding Bruce. However he’d hit a dead end in his investigation, and didn’t particularly feel like wandering aimlessly around Europe any longer. He still had contacts that were going to get in touch with him if anything new turned up. His reluctance came from the fact that Roy was Dick’s best friend, and Tim wasn’t on the best terms with Dick right now.

“I never meant it to be like this” he thought to himself. Gotham needed Batman, and Tim knew that Dick was the best choice for the cowl. He just wished that what was good for Gotham wasn’t so painful for him. Dick wasn’t supposed to become Batman and then fire him. He was supposed to become Batman, and be Tim’s partner. Just until Bruce came back, he thought, still unwilling to even consider that his mentor might be gone for good.
Tim’s silent reflection was interrupted when he heard footsteps from within, coming towards the door. He resigned himself to disappointment that neither his investigation, nor his relationship with Dick was going the way he’d wanted. Once this mission was over he would start trying to reassemble what was left of his life. But until then he’d do what he could to help Red Arrow’s mission.

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

DCU, Booster Gold/Ted Kord, Superbuddies era shenanigans

No fic but...

[shiny-glor-chan.livejournal.com]

Eee, icon! <3

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

DCAU, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake, handstands

[oteap.livejournal.com]

Four Brothers/author's choice, Jack/author's choice, holding hands in public

[momma-66.livejournal.com]

author's choice, author's choice(/author's choice), "2319! We have a 2319!" (Monster's Inc)

[voksen.livejournal.com]

Cody zooms around the corner and slams into Dexter, practically bouncing off his legs. "23-19!" he yells, his eyes bugging out, and races in the other direction, disappearing into his room faster than Dexter would've thought he could move.

"23-19?" Dexter asks Rita, who trails in after him, picking up a trail of what looks like blue fuzz.

"Monsters," she says, and sighs. "It's what they say when a monster touches a human child."

It's a strange kind of coincidence, and once again he has no idea what to say.

"They've been watching Monsters Inc. every day for the last week with the substitute they have in for his teacher," she continues, and Dexter relaxes into the explanation with relief he hopes isn't noticeable. "I'm going to call and complain about it as soon as I can get Cody to settle down."

This is something Dexter knows how to handle. "I'll do it," he says promptly, and is rewarded with one of Rita's best smiles.

[oteap.livejournal.com]

Kings, Jack/David, There is something really wrong with you.

[besottedly.livejournal.com]

“There is something really wrong with you,” David hissed.

Jack simply shrugged and pushed him back against the bed. He had accepted that he was fucked up long ago. Once he had embraced it and stopped struggling against it, things had gotten better. Hiding it was difficult, but much less so than denying it.

Jack kicked off his shoes and climbed on top of the bed and Shepherd. This was not generally how he went about things, but the temptation was too great. There was something doubly satisfying about talking the great David Shepherd into his bed.

“What exactly is wrong with me?” Jack asked before putting his mouth to the other man’s neck to leave a mark he knew would peek out from beneath his uniform collar.

The captain’s breath caught in his throat. Jack couldn’t tell if it was arousal or anger which kept him from replying.

[oteap.livejournal.com]

True Blood, Eric/Lafayette, jealous?

"Phone call" True Blood, Eric/Lafayette, jealous?

[yoruichiyoshi12.livejournal.com]

"H-Hello?"

"Lafayette, it's Eric. It has been some time since we last spoke. Pam has told me that she delivered my gift to you. Are you being a good boy and sharing with others?"

"S-some...Bon Temps' been fuckin' crazy the last few days."

"Yes, I'm aware of the situation with Maryann. I expect you'll get back to sharing very soon then?"

"Yeah, I'll get on that real soon."

"Is something wrong, Lafayette? Your voice sounds a bit...off. You're not still fearful of me, are you?"

"You ain't on my list of favorite people..."

"What a shame. I did spare your life and fix your leg, does that not count for something?"

"That was for yo' own benefit."

"True."

"Speakin' of people I like; what's this I hear about you trickin' Sookie into drinkin' yo' blood?"

"...You're not the only human that I must keep track of. Does that make you jealous?"

"You fuckin' wish I was."

"For a human, you're quite amusing. Have you had any sexual dreams about me yet?"

"Anything else you needed to talk to me about? I'm about to go in to work."

"I do not know how Bill found out about our arrangement, but if anyone else learns of this knowledge, I'll drain you myself."

"Y-yeah... I know."

"Have a nice evening. I will see you soon."

[momma-66.livejournal.com]

author's choice, author's choice/author's choice, "I gotta warn ya, going into the belly of the beast - danger at every turn." "I eat danger for breakfast!" (Bolt)

[oteap.livejournal.com]

SPN/Brimstone, John/Ezekiel, welcome back, John.

Dealbreaker, John/Ezekiel, PG-13

[http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/]

By the time Ezekiel worked his way up to escaped convict number seventy-seven, the bounty’s reputation had preceded him.

The passing months had introduced Ezekiel to the world of hunters, their kin, their prey and their tragedies. But he’d met this particular hunter at an earlier opportunity.

In Hell, John Winchester was a name that drew the vengeful like moths to the brightest hearth in the pit.

On Earth, the same name scattered hunters faster than ash on the wind.

It made Ezekiel reconsider his available arsenal.

Facing down the father of the man who started the apocalypse was sounding more and more daunting every day.

When he eventually found John Winchester, he was surprised the man had been waiting for him, at hell’s gate of Wyoming, no less.

“Is it too early to say 'Welcome back, John'?” Ezekiel palmed the hilt of his service pistol, approaching the figure he knew was John Winchester, even though John was a much younger man than Ezekiel had expected.

That was his first hint that something was wrong.

The longer his gaze lingered, John seemed to shimmer around the edges and it made his eyes water.

“Zeke,” John’s voice was flat, hands loose at his sides and Zeke couldn’t spot a single weapon on him. “See you didn’t get the memo.”

Ezekiel frowned and stopped with one foot across the railroad tracks. “Is it ‘bring an imposter to work’ day?”

“Can’t take me in,” John gestured to his chest with an air of apology. “I’m no longer relevant to your hunt. They promoted me upstairs when my boys and I killed Azazel, right here. During the breakout.”

Ezekiel thinks he’s following, but that would mean…. He blinked in shock.

“John, are you trying to tell me you’re an angel?”

John shrugged tightly and shoved hands in the pockets of his jeans. He looked a bit... embarassed. Maybe he expected Ezekiel to demand proof with a show of his wings.

Ezekiel wouldn't have rushed to impersonate a live Sunday roast, either.

The look in John's eyes was wearied, old and somehow, Ezekiel believed him. Snorting under his breath, he bit back the curse, because, fuck. It was nice for some.

“Yeah, it's not so bad,” John dismissed and Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed at him.

Was John reading his mind?

John cleared his throat a bit too loudly, eyes averted, and Ezekiel was too stunned to be worried about all the thoughts that suddenly weren't private anymore. Mind reading, huh?

Ezekiel supposed that was odd.

“I’m here because I have an offer: you’re collecting bounties on the other demons. I want to help.”

Ezekiel knew well enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but the first thing that came to mind was how the boss’ would respond to Zeke allying with an angel. With Winchester, of all the possible angels that could have swooped on him.

“What do you want, John?”

“In exchange, you’d be my eyes and ears with the devil. I’m going to kill him.”

Ezekiel laughed abruptly. “You can’t kill the devil.”

John’s face was mocking with false sympathy, as though he knew better and Ezekiel was just a simple man with simple ideas, but John was good enough to indulge him.

“Wait… you’re serious?”

“He’s after my boys. He’s dead just as soon as I figure how.”

Ezekiel straightened and considered it for a long moment. He looked back into John’s face carefully. “What would it mean for me?”

“I’ve got the power to seize your contract, if you complete your end. I’ll put you back on Earth if it’s what you want.”

If it’s what he wanted?

“My wife –“

John shrugged, he seemed less interested in the details. “Hey. You want a hand?”

Ezekiel looked from the angel to the broken, charred gate to hell behind him. The answer seemed obvious.

“Well," Ezekiel shrugged, "Let’s go catch some bad guys.”