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Continuing the happy week - Ficlets by Request
Okay - I've probably stretched the week thing a little because I procrastinate terribly!
But for Valentine's Day (bleah!! :) ) how about some ficlets by request while I noodle around before I start my next Big Bangs.
Let me take advantage of the small window of time I have LJ access at work (they take it away, then give it back, then take it away again, playing with my emotions!).
But for Valentine's Day (bleah!! :) ) how about some ficlets by request while I noodle around before I start my next Big Bangs.
Give me a pairing, any I've ever written (or any you think I'd be willing to write/know who they are/maybe have heard of them) and a word prompt.
Let me take advantage of the small window of time I have LJ access at work (they take it away, then give it back, then take it away again, playing with my emotions!).
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Arthur/Eames, date gone wrong.
(the prompt is more than one word long. I hope you will forgive me!)
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"Should I ask?" Ariadne whispers, leaning down so she can speak directly into Eames' ear. Despite this, Arthur still turns to shoot them a glare that Eames is surprised doesn't immediately make their hearts explode in their chests and their brains melt out their ears.
"I would say not, hmm?" Eames responds when Arthur finally stops trying to kill them with thought alone.
"What happened to-?" Yusuf makes an undignified squawk of protest when Eames clamps a hand over his mouth and drags him into the bathroom.
"Do you want to die?" Eames hisses desperately and watches Yusuf's eyes get wide before he shakes his head, as much as he can while still being held in a deathgrip.
Eames only lets Yusuf go when he communicates at length just what Arthur is capable of doing to their intestines with a spoon and a lot of time at his disposal.
It's always bloody Cobb.
"What happened to your head?" Cobb asks, managing to bypass Eames easily when he's distracted trying to figure out a way to be completely still and silent while still working.
Eames watches Arthur's shoulders tense as Cobb drops a butt cheek on Arthur's desk, knocking a carefully teetering stack of paperwork sideways. Eames slowly slides down in his chair until only his eyes and the top of his head are visible over his own desk when Cobb reaches out a hand and rubs it over Arthur's head, plucking at the strip of longer hair that runs from the nape of his neck to his forehead.
Arthur currently has a mohawk.
Arthur slowly slides himself backwards and Cobb snorts. "Wow, I didn't even see the skinny jeans," Cobb says with his eyebrows shooting upwards.
"It was a bet," Arthur says slowly and Eames can feel Yusuf and Ariadne's attention divert from Arthur to him. Ariadne rolls herself over.
"What did you do?"
"I bet him that if he was asked for ID even once last night when we went out that he would have to wear whatever he was wearing when he actually turned twenty one," Eames says and can't fight the grin starting on his face. "How was I to know it would involve... that?"
"I can't believe he didn't just shoot you instead," Cobb says as he wanders by, flicking Eames in the ear.
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Luff. :)
*wants picture*
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I'm picturing him in skinny black jeans and a red and black stripey shirt with a studded belt and boots. The mohawk is the messy almost-faux kind. :D
HE WAS GOING THROUGH A PHASE!!
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I have this vision of Arthur actually wearing this stuff on his days off and Eames HAS NO IDEA and catches him and Arthur's like, what? I wear the suits to work but this is ME TIME.
... and then there's porn... or something. :D
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Eames is having fun ogling to lovely slip of a thing in front of him in the queue at his favourite cafe when the aforementioned lovely thing turns his face sideways. He's saying something to a girl he's with who has far too many facial piercings but that isn't what nearly gives Eames a coronary.
"Arthur?" Eames wheezes, taking in the mohawk, red and black striped shirt and skinny black jeans.
"Ye- oh, hey," Arthur says, looking a little surprised but not otherwise ruffled which is barmy when Eames' whole world has tipped sideways.
"Arthur?" Eames tries again, his usually expansive vocabulary reduced to a single word.
"Yes?" Arthur says slowly, probably watching the way Eames is going a disturbing shade of puce. "Eames, are you alright?"
"Did you hit your head?" Eames finally blurts and Arthur's companion raises a drawn-on eyebrow at him.
"Is he having a stroke?" the girl asks, starting to look concerned and Arthur frowns and shuffles her sideways so he can put hands on Eames' shoulders and shake him gently, back and forth.
"Hey, you with us?" Arthur asks and his tone is gentle and he looks like Arthur, but not at the same time like he's some parallel version of the uptight, stuffy Arthur Eames is used to. Worry creeps into Arthur's features and he asks, "Are you having a stroke?"
"No... just..." Eames can't manage anything more coherent and he can't reach for his poker chip with Arthur holding his arms by his sides like he wants to. He does the second-best thing, recounting his journey to the cafe, walking it backwards in his head to make sure there's no blank spots. "What on earth are you wearing?"
Success is forming a complete sentence.
Arthur looks down at himself, back up at Eames and then rolls his eyes like it's just occurred to him what Eames' problem is. He shrugs, the movement making the bottom of his shirt and the top of his jeans part company and Eames nearly chokes on his tongue at the flash of flat, fascinating belly it reveals all too briefly.
"I'm off the clock," Arthur says.
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*flails about*
Yesssssssss.
:)
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thank you so much. This is amazing. <3
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He tells Dean he just needs to try to train himself out of it, fight the urge and go longer without getting up.
He brings home goddamned pamphlets.
Dean will never tell him that he goes into the bathroom as a ruse, that he runs the water, splashes some on his face but he's always fine until morning draining-the-lizard wise.
He can't train himself out of having to check Sam is there when it's dark.
The need to touch him.
Just to make sure.
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amazingly sweet in that moment-without-breath way. I loved this :) and the pamphlets, god the pamphlets. THANK YOU!!
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*pets*
Oh, Sammy. Pamphlets.
*snickers*
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Sam just stares at him, painted in ice cream from forehead to chin, his cone that he didn't even want but Dean insisted with a pointed why can you never eat sugar or anything bad for you goddamn it Sam you're boring, a smushed mess in his hand.
"I really need to learn how to kill you with my brain," Sam grumbles.
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Nosy. :)
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--
"No seriously, try it," Dean implores, opens his eyes wide and blinks in a way he probably thinks is attractive. Sam just thinks he looks like he's just bitten into an onion.
"I don't exist just to amuse you," Sam grumbles, hunkering further down in his seat and trying to ignore the way Dean is flicking his knee every few seconds. "Can you leave me alone, just for once?"
"Driving's boring," Dean grunts and then grimaces. He puts out a hand and Sam darts out his own and grabs it.
"If you apologise to the car I'm going to throw you out of it."
"I'd let you if you did the thing," Dean says, sounding way too cheerful.
"I'm not doing it."
"C'mon, Sammy. Live a little."
"No."
"You're so boring."
"Fine."
"Fine you'll do it?"
"No, fine I'm boring."
"You suck."
"Not if you keep this up."
That, above all else manages to derail Dean. He kind of opens his mouth, lets a half-formed squeak emerge and then clamps his lips closed. Sam actually admires the way he lasts all of ten minutes before he can't actually keep it in anymore.
"It would just be so cool," he explodes finally, turning almost all the way around in his seat, letting go of the steering wheel with one hand so he can pound the roof of the car in frustration.
"Okay, just keep your eyes on the road," Sam exclaims as they start to drift over into oncoming traffic. Dean does, wrenching the wheel hard enough that Sam is slammed into the door, knocking his forehead on the window. "Ow!"
"Hey, crap, sorry!" Dean says.
"Just... pull over first so we don't die," Sam says and Dean does immediately. When they're stopped, Sam turns to him and holds up a finger. "Just so we're clear, I'm doing this once. I do not want to hear about it ever again."
"Yep, absolutely," Dean agrees far too readily which means Sam might actually get a whole week before Dean will start bugging him again.
Sam sighs. "Tabitha or Samantha?" he asks.
"Tabitha, totally," Dean says, folds his hands in his lap and waits, looking completely jazzed.
"Fine," Sam huffs again, puts a finger to the end of his nose and moves it from side to side. Dean's tape box floats from underneath the passenger seat over to Dean's lap and plonks down into it. "There, happy?" he asks.
"More than you know," Dean says, rummaging happily through the tapes and coming up with a battered Metallica.
"I don't actually have to do the nose thing for that to work," Sam points out, probably for the eight hundred and ninety second time.
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EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
*dies*
:)
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I'm writing you angsty pants powers!Sam for SPN Gen so I needed something fluffy.
... however this might make it into the Big Bang... har har? :D
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Today, you and your lj are MADE OF AWESOME.
That is all.
:)
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He has the appropriately squishy nose!
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Steve/Danny impact
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Dc0_qsY5og
And this.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIQDCbLzzUg
Oh, and maybe this. :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOXsL8pZBc4
*twirls you*
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Here's some info:
http://pentapus.dreamwidth.org/23538.html
Lamardeuse screencaps every episode, as here:
http://lamardeuse.dreamwidth.org/849631.html
http://lamardeuse.dreamwidth.org/tag/hawaii+five-o:+ep+recaps
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1: "Cut a hole in a box"
2: "Put your junk in that box"
3: "Make her open the box... and that's the way you do it!"
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Sam nudges the box with her foot closer to Jack. It's been painted and has sparkles but it still doesn't change one very important fact. "Just until we can get to Ikea," Sam says, blinking and standing protectively in front of her chest of draws.
"Are you going to make me sleep in a basket at the end of your bed?" Jack asks with a raised eyebrow, and tackles Sam to the bed when she actually looks like she's thinking about it.
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Prompt: staring contest
Or, if not, just something with Castiel and Dean (gen). Prompt: puppy
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--
"Did you not think that dogs went to heaven?" Castiel asks and Dean just stares at the angel with a leash in his hands.
And stares.
Mostly because the dog sitting at Castiel's feet is supposed to be dead.
Dean saw him hit by a car himself. Had to hold Sam until he cried himself to sleep for three weeks afterwards. "This isn't funny," Dean says slowly.
"I'm not trying to be amusing," Castiel says, brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm trying to do something nice for your brother. He has seemed a little out of sorts lately."
Dean snorts indelicately at the very idea that you could describe Sam as a little out of sorts.
"Bringing a dog back from the dead is just a little... weird," Dean finally manages past the uncomfortable lump in his throat.
"Ah," Castiel grunts, looks down at Buster who looks back up at him, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth and tail thumping. He grimaces. "Heaven isn't really like a pet store. I can't take him back."
"I didn't say you had to, did I?" Dean says quickly when Buster ambles over to Dean and leans against his leg. "Let's just tell Sam he's a stray. Just happens to look exactly like the dog he had when he was eight." Dean rubs at his face uncertainly. "Probably won't even remember. We only had Buster for six weeks. We were going to have to get rid of him when we moved on anyway."
"I don't do this very well, do I?" Castiel asks and even though Dean's not entirely sure what he means, he shakes his head.
"Nah. You're fine," he says. "Let's go freak Sam out with the zombie dog."
"He's not actually a-"
"Don't spoil my fun," Dean says with a grin.
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Also, thank you so much for the adorable gopher surprise present! xx