Meme

[jmtorres]

So we'll be combining a thing and trying something new.

There's the drabble meme, wherein you write a drabble, then leave a request for another drabble, and someone comes along and gives you another drabble in the comment, leaving her own request after...

Then there's the thousand comment meme.

So we're trying for A Thousand Drabbles.

Hey, PotC pulled off something very near it. Why not me?

Probably should make the entry public so it's more... possible.

Anyway, my (double) drabble:

(late s4 Farscape)

Some nostalgia possessed John to ask Scorpius if he still carried the image of Earth, sixty years' travel distant. "You mean, Sebacea?" Scorpius asked.

"What?" John was floored.

"They had to come from somewhere." Scorpius held out a crystal. "Didn't you suspect? You look too similar for it to be chance."

Examination of the image Scorpius had produced showed it wasn't John's Earth. There were geopolitical shifts--cities that shouldn't be there dotted polar coasts; cities that should have been present were nowhere to be found. L.A., New York, D.C., Paris, Rome, Cairo, Tehran, Hong Kong, Beijing, Sydney, Tokyo--all the places that John was used to seeing from space as a spiderweb of lights across the dark side of the Earth. Gone.

But it was an Earth.

There were two explanations, after ruling out manipulation by Scorpius--and Pilot confirmed the file was archival footage, hundreds of cycles old. Either John's first trip down the rabbit hole had been to the far, far future, or else it had been to an unrealized reality.

John couldn't decide whether he preferred this universe to be the inevitable result of his own world's evolution, or whether he preferred it to be unreal.

My request: Witchblade, from the point of view of the blade itself.

ETA: Feel free to answer any request, even if someone else has already answered it.

ETA2: If you get into a huge story instead of a single drabble, don't let that stop you from posting it! Little bites are tasty, but so are seventeen-course feasts.

ETA2.1: If you want to drabble and have an idea that's not on the request list, go ahead and start a new comment thread with it.

ETA2.2: Don't forget to attach a request to your drabble! Requests feed the process!

ETA3: I'm going to start two lists, list of stuff people have written and list of stuff people have requested
ETA3.1 which will now be kept on my site rather than here on lj, because I realized if this gets anywhere near a thousand drabbles, the links will be more than a single lj-post can contain.

ETA4: April 2010: No, I am not updating the links on a six-year-old list from LJ. If you are interested in reading the drabbles, they are all in the comments of this entry. Some people even put header info in their comment subjects. Have fun.

Comments

"Passion" Witchblade, POV - blade itself, 150 words

[cloudtrader.livejournal.com]

Passion. Passion in the blood, the reason for following the blood. Passion and power. Some have more, some less. Sara is passion personified. Driven. Without the proper fuel, Sara would burn herself out with her passion.

Her skin is warm and dry. She touches me more than she knows. And when she contemplates me, innocuous, resting on her arm, the intensity of her gaze burns. And I gaze back.

I am the coldest of metals, forged as a weapon to quench the flame of life. It is why I am drawn to Sara and her blood. Such fierce, all-consuming passion! She will last longer against my cold than anyone else, longer than any of my previous weilders, maybe. Certainly longer than any mere male could.

Her passion traps me, as I trap her. Her passion will keep her safe for awhile longer, but in the end, my coldness will win.

(Request Earth: Final Conflict drabble, Liam/Da'an pairing, heh.)

EFC drabble, Liam/Da'an

[jmtorres.livejournal.com]

"You are bound," Da'an murmured, stroking Liam's jacket, "by flesh, but you can become fluid." He was standing close, his long hand flat against Liam.

"How?" Liam whispered.

"The key," Da'an replied, "is here." He cradled Liam's hand in his own. His illusory skin slid away, cupping Liam's hand in circuits of pure energy.

Glowing without and within: Liam's palm shone eerily. He felt lightning streak his arm, flush his face, raise hairs on his neck. Startled, he clenched his fist, extinguishing the light.

Da'an dropped his hands and sheathed himself again. "Perhaps when you are," he said contemplatively, "older."

(Request, Andromeda, Harper history)

Harper history: "Inside"

[viridian5.livejournal.com]

SPOILERS: "Be All My Sins Remembered."

===================
"Inside"
By Viridian5
===================

With his eyes closed, Harper could better feel the Eureka Maru's engines pulse like a heart beating, as if he lived inside the body of a great beast, part of it. Part of Beka Valentine's crew. After all the dreaming and struggling, he'd made it off Earth and into space. It hadn't even taken much work, since Psycho Bobby had screwed himself and all Harper had had to do was bring it to Beka's attention.

He was a kludge with prospects now.

Beka had mentioned having a *Magog* on her crew that he hadn't met yet, but since it hadn't eaten her yet maybe it was a different kind of Magog. The thought of a Magog anywhere near him made his stomach roil, but he could bear it. He could. Because he'd made it out.

By spacer standards, the Eureka Maru wasn't much, Harper was sure. The Maru was a freighter, a salvage ship, obviously put together out of spare parts, but Harper admired it for that, for being scrappy. Given how he'd lived, all of *his* work had been made of spare parts. Beka obviously had an emotional attachment to this ship, and that made him like her and it even more.

She kept expecting the closed-in spaces and stale air to bother him, but he'd lived in tunnels since coming to Boston. Hell, the Maru's air smelled fresher than those tunnels. She kept expecting him to need sky. He missed sky--what little sky he'd been able to see through the smog--but he had space now, endless and open. Free. Besides, she said that they went to planets for jobs sometimes, though she shuddered a little at the thought of being on a planet.

When Harper put his hands against the wall he could feel the thrum of the Maru working through his body, and it made him horny. It would be his job and joy to maintain this scrappy lady. He still salivated with lust at the thought of the port on Psycho Bobby's neck. Something that would let him get *inside* machines was something he desperately wanted. Someday he'd have one. He swore it to himself. He wondered what it would feel like to have technology actually inside his body, a part of him, its power running through his nervous system and brain.

"You look orgasmic, you little freak," Beka said.

Harper opened his eyes to see her standing there, framed by the interior of her ship. *Their* ship. "I take my jollies where I can get them, boss." He was home.


***THE END***

Re: Harper history: "Inside"

[viridian5.livejournal.com]

Request: A Gabriel and Ian Witchblade story. Not necessarily slash but could be.

U-Pick Live drabble - Pick Boy/Antonio

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Jeff pulls the final name from the torch and "Pick Boy" is read aloud. He seems so happy and excited to be leaving, but you know it's an act. That's why this was all taped earlier. Candace hugs you as Pick Boy dances around like a dork and does his damnedest to act happy that he's been kicked off the show.

She holds your hand as you watch him dance out of the studio and you put your bravest face on for the cameras. Once the cameras and the audience is gone, the tears will come.

And so will he.

(Request - Naruto, Sasuke/Haku)

Naruto - Sasuke/Haku

[elekdragon.livejournal.com]

Spoilers for the bridge arc.

***

Haku moves like molten silver, observing, learning. Sasuke's skin is smooth, like fine linen paper, so easy to read. Haku's needles write long lines of poetry in fresh, red ink, the paper tearing perfectly under his careful aim. Haku can read the twitch of muscle, the hitch of breath that makes the boy's throat jump. He can follow Sasuke to his destination before Sasuke knows to turn. He is so beautiful in his pain, his fury.

In this moment, Haku can almost love him, as much as he can love another.

Haku feels Zabuza's eyes on him, feeding from his energy, reading the love story he writes across Sasuke's flesh. Words meant only for him.

/Finish it./

Haku composes the final verse. The needles sink deep into muscle, straight to the heart of energy bundled tight and explosive within the small body. The boy falls.

Haku revels in Zabuza's pleasure.

[gisho.livejournal.com]

(Orca spoilers, so hidden - highlight to read.)


It really was a coincidence, the first time I met him. The restaurant was just a convenient place to make sure someone was dead, with few enough customers to avoid witnesses.

I stopped to make sure the kid wasn't too scared - but still too scared to talk - and I looked into his eyes, and knew, saw two hundred thousand years of history, remembered things I shouldn't have remembered, that Kiera would never have known. But sometimes I can't help myself. Maybe Verra meant it that way.

"I'm Kiera," I told him, and he nodded as if he understood.



Request: More Dragaera. Any Dragarea.

Vladfic: With a Knife in One Hand and His Dick in the Other (triple drabble)

[jmtorres.livejournal.com]

The first time Kragar caught me at it was accidental. He came in, said, "Sorry, Vlad," and walked out.

Well, I think it was the first time. I mean, if he'd ever walked in and not said anything before leaving, I doubt I would've noticed him at all.

I was pretty embarrassed at first, too embarrassed to finish the job, actually, but then I got angry. Who's the boss around here? If the boss couldn't jerk off in his own office, who could?

Then I had a brilliant idea. I could use this to deter Kragar from sneaking in and startling me three minutes later. If he had to clap outside the door for fear of me sharpening the knife, he couldn't sneak up on me, could he?

"That's not a brilliant idea," Loiosh objected.

I solved this by making Loiosh stand guard.

The second time, it was fully planned. Kragar was due to give me a report in five minutes when I sat back and started up.

Kragar coughed before he turned to leave. Loiosh had alerted me to his presence only a moment before, but it was enough time to flash him a big grin instead of freezing in mortification.

In retrospect, the grin was probably also not a brilliant idea. Because the third time, Kragar asked, "Do you get off on having people walk in on you?"

I said, "Why, do you get off on watching people?"

Kragar said dryly, "Yes, Boss, it's a match made by the Gods." Then he shut the door, sat down across from me, and looked at me expectantly.

I fastened my clothes and sighed. "So. Business?"

Maybe I imagined it, but Kragar looked disappointed.

The Gods are real funny. I think I even know which one. Verra? I'm looking at you.

(Request: Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale)

Mutant X - Brennan/Eckhart

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

150 words.

Brennan strains against his bonds. He winces as he hears the snap of latex against skin, knowing that Eckhart is preparing. Preparing to examine *him*.

“You see, Mister Mulwray,” explains Eckhart as he leans over to ensure that Brennan is secure, “You are unique and must be studied thoroughly.”

“Go fuck yourself,” sneers Brennan.

“Such wit,” smirks Eckhart. “I can see why you’re Adam’s favorite.”

If this were any other situation, Brennan would ponder that. The gleam of the scalpel in Eckhart’s hand forces Brennan to bite his lip as the blade gets closer and closer to his skin. When Eckhart makes that first slice into Brennan’s caramel colored flesh and the blood wells up, it’s all Brennan can do to keep from screaming.

“Very interesting, wouldn’t you say, Mister Mulwray?” Eckhart comments. “Scream all you like. In fact, I hope you will,” Eckhart says as he makes another cut.

(Request: Count D/Leon, Pet Shop of Horrors)

"These Difficult Days:" Petshop of Horrors double drabble

[cadetdru.livejournal.com]

Some days, Leon wanted to know why the Count hadn't picked out a pet for him yet. These tended to be the days where Leon didn't have to buy some expensive and tiny pastry to butter up the Count to make him cough up some information on the latest weird murder.

On these days, Leon almost missed the Count. He wasn't falling for the guy, no matter how feminine he might be at times. The Count; not Leon. Leon was butch. Leon was not into the fruity guy with the weird incense, customers, and pets for sale. Leon wasn't jealous of the Count's customers.

Leon was lying to himself. The days when he wasn't interrogating Count D about mermaids or whatever the hell it was this time, he couldn't lie to himself. When the Count was standing between Leon and what should've been an open and shut case, then Leon could pretend that their relationship wasn't anything threatening to Leon's butch masculinity and heterosexuality.

In any case, he probably wasn't the Count's type. He didn't think the Count would go in for bestiality, but with the incense...

Leon slammed his head into his desk, trying to drive out the thoughts.



(Request: Zoolander fic; any pairing, including the orgy)

S.W.A.T. [2003] - Hondo/Street

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

There’s not much room in the back seat and the vinyl of the seats clings to their skin. There’s that ripping sound when either of them lift a body part up.

None of it matters, because there’s sweat and skin and licking and things hurt at times because of being pressed against a door in the wrong way, but fuck, then Street’s tongue finds a way to touch him in a way he hasn’t felt before and sweet Jesus, he’ll be damned if that doesn’t make it all better.

“Always wanted to make it in a cop car,” pants Street.

(Request: Nathan/Vince, Queer As Folk UK)

"Chicken" - Nathan/Vince (Queer As Folk UK)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

He called Nathan the chicken, but it’s really Vince. Vince will never tell anyone how he feels about Nathan. How he feels about those sparkling blue eyes and pouty lips.

How he thinks of Nathan’s tight young body and how it would feel under his hands and tongue.

The times he thinks of Nathan, Stuart and himself in bed. Then Vince would show the two of them who was really chicken. Vince enjoys the image of Stuart and Nathan, on their knees before him, a handful of Stuart’s curls in one hand, a fistful of Nathan’s locks in the other.

RPF - Ben Stiller/Christine Taylor/Vince Vaughn

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

(During the filming of Dodgeball)
151 words.

It’s hard for Ben to watch his wife kiss another man. He always covers his eyes when she does it in a movie, which she kids him about incessantly. He can’t help it. It’s just something he can’t watch.

Which makes this even harder. He has to watch his wife kiss another man in person and stay in character. He can’t ruin take after take because he doesn’t like it. He has to suck it up and deal.

Christine knows it’s hard on him. She doesn’t know how hard, though. Ben’s tongue is swollen from all the biting he’s done during the kiss scenes. At first the pain was intense, but he quickly grew accustomed.

Ben goes through hell for Christine and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

After the scene is done, Vince comes over and needles Ben. “How do you do it, man?”

Ben just shrugs and smiles.

(Request: Pegasus/Kaiba, Yu-Gi-Oh!)

Pegasus/Kaiba: "Playing With Dolls"

[mercuriazs.livejournal.com]

"Have you ever been in love, Kaiba-boy?"

Seto doesn't answer. He can't; he isn't here. His body lies prone on the davenport, emptied of the fierce animation that causes so many to call him a dragon. Pegasus smiles down at the body, running a hand through its thick brown hair.

"No, I didn't think so," he murmurs. He finds that he prefers these one-sided conversations; he can speak to Seto's sweet form without fearing the boy's trademark acrimony. He can play pretend, imagine for himself what he would like him to say back. A bit of a sham, he admits, but so much of what he does is a sham that it hardly matters now, does it?

"It's a pity," he tells him, feeling the smoothness of Seto's cheek beneath his palm, "that someone so lovely can be so cold."

And he pretends that a reply comes: Teach me not to be.


(Request: Giles/Angel or Giles/Angelus, from BtVS)

Sweet Dreams (due South, RK/BF)

[maryavatar.livejournal.com]

Exactly 500 words. What does that make it? A quin-drabble? A pentadrabble? O.o

Probably a vignette, huh?


Sometimes Ray wonders what it would be like if Fraser just... let go. He's glimpsed little hints of what it could be like; every now and again the wall slips and Ray sees the man hiding behind all the politeness. What would Fraser do if he weren't all wrapped up in morality like it was a straightjacket?

When Ray is awake he isn't sure if Fraser would be good at sex. He's good at most things, but sex is something you need to practice, and as far as Ray can tell Fraser doesn't do a lot of that. He can't image there was a lot to practice on out there in the great white nothing either. Of course, that train of thought leads to images of Fraser practising on himself, and Ray better not be at work when that happens.

When Ray's asleep, he's sure Fraser would be good. He dreams about waking up tied face down on the bed by leather straps, shoelaces and bits of string, the red jacket rolled up and tucked under his hips so his ass is raised up for Fraser's use. Fraser would lick him, not to turn Ray on, but just because Fraser likes to lick things.

A lot of the time Ray doesn't get as far as dreaming about the sex, just the thought of Fraser's tongue on his asshole is enough to wake him up with come on his sheets. If Ray's already had the dream this week, he usually can get past the licking, and the blunt thumbs opening him up, to the main event. Fraser is probably uncut, but Ray isn't sure if he'd be able to tell, even if Fraser didn't use a condom. Would it feel different? Hurt more? Less?

Ray dreams that Fraser opens him up just enough to get inside, but not enough that it doesn't hurt. It would have to hurt, burning away their friendship into something else. Hopefully something better, and could anything be better than the feel of Fraser inside him, riding him slowly and thoroughly?

Even when he's awake, Ray thinks sacrificing their friendship for a fuck like that would be worth it.

Dream-Fraser... Wild-Fraser whispers in Ray's ear. He says all those things Ray wants to hear. Things about love and sex and forever. He says them all without missing a stroke, a stream of sweet endearments mixed with dirty talk. Ray tries to pay attention, but Fraser's cock distracts him, and the rub of his own cock against the Serge distracts him more. At the end the words all blend into 'Ray Ray Ray', and Ray doesn't spare a thought about coming on Fraser's uniform.

Every time Ray has the dream he decides he should make a pass at Fraser. Not something obvious, just something to see if he can wriggle through the cracks in Fraser's wall. Some day Fraser will open up enough for Ray to see if something obvious would work, but until then Ray can wait.


Request: More dS, maybe some Ray/Ray, or Turnbull.

Re: Sweet Dreams (due South, RK/BF)

[cloudtrader.livejournal.com]

Ray and Ray were arguing again.

Fraser sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The night had started off well enough. They'd gotten together at the Consulate -- neutral ground, as it were -- to watch hockey. Fraser had invited Turnbull in the hope that his two friends would curb their vitriol in the face of a nominal outsider. Ray, however, was used to Turnbull now, having apparently decided that shared movie outings and such made him a fast (if weird) friend, and Ray seemed to think of him like family now that Turnbull was dating his sister.

Their argument was escalating. It had started over a disagreement in a call in the game and now seemed to be moving into a yelling match over the merrits of different species of monkeys. Fraser had no clue how one led to the other.

"They're sweet, aren't they, sir?" Turnbull said.

Fraser turned and looked at his fellow constable. Like usual, he had no idea what the man was talking about. "Sweet?"

"You don't think so? I just think that with all that passion in their relationship, they must love each other very much," Turnbull said, nodding to the arguing pair.

Fraser was speechless. Turnbull thought that Ray and Ray...? That was absurd! Although. Hmm. Ray really had been talking about Ray a lot lately. And Turnbull was spending an awful lot of time over at the Vecchio residence wooing Frannie, so maybe he knew something that Fraser didn't. And the two did tend to ignore other people in favor of each other when in the same room... It made sense. Fraser just wasn't sure that THEY knew about it yet.

He grinned. It was nice to see that his friends were getting along so famously. "Yes. Yes, they are sweet at that."

(request: Sentinel fic, Jim/Blair, crossover with fandom of choice)

"Cursed Springs (In more ways than one)" - Wildboyz

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Triple drabble.

Johnny regains conciousness. The first thing he notices is that he’s wet. The next thing he notices is that he feels odd. He’s regained conciousness before and felt different because a bone was broken or he’d had a concussion. This time he doesn’t feel like himself.

“The fuck?” he mutters as he tries to ease himself into a sitting position, only to realize that he can’t, because he has no arms. He starts to panic as he tries to look down and see where his arms have gone, but his eyes won’t go down that far.

Steve-O and Pontius walk in, and they tower over him.

“Jesus, you two, what the fuck happened to me?”

“Told you he was gonna wake up soon!” Pontius grins as he nudges Steve-O.

“Damn. We should’ve done it while he was knocked out. Now he’ll never let us.”

“What the fuck were you two gonna do to me? And don’t give me that ‘nothing’ line either, because I know you two and I know how your sick minds work.”

“Nothing,” Pontius and Steve-O chorus.

“Yeah, right,” snorts Johnny. “Will one of you give me a hand so I can get up? What the hell happened to me?”

Pontius giggles as he picks Johnny up. “You fell into one of those cursed springs here. The one where a snake drowned, I think.”

“Whoa, whoa, Pontius, watch where you’re putting me!”

Steve-O starts to giggle with Pontius. “I don’t have any pockets, so where else am I supposed to carry you?”

“In your goddamn hands, that’s where!” Johnny’s head hangs down. “Jesus, where’s Tremaine when I need him?”

Steve-O snickers. “You’ll see, dude. You’ll see.”

As they walked out of the tent, Pontius and Steve-O high-fived each other. Their plan was working just as they’d… planned.

(Request: Steve/Jeff, Coupling UK)

Re: "Cursed Springs (In more ways than one)" - Wildboyz

[lyssie.livejournal.com]

Susan once asked about the porn-buddies. Mocked them both for it. But it was all right, because she was closer to the truth then. And he couldn't tell her then. Didn't want to watch the light in her eyes turn to something worse than derision. Jeff thinks of himself as too nice for that. He likes women, he likes men. He likes Susan, she likes Steve. Steve likes him.

It's a crazy sort of snake-eat-snake dangly thing.

Except that it's rarely dangly, for him. It's generally hard. And he always ignores the guilt.

(and how the hell do I keep ending up writing slash?)

"Tasty" - Xander/Graham (BtVS)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Graham stood at attention, naked.

Xander picked up a large bar of milk chocolate, which was nice and soft. He smushed it onto Graham’s bare torso and licked his fingers as he stepped away.

Xander then scooped up a large handful of marshmallow crème and spread that on top of the chocolate bar.

After licking his fingers again, Xander picked up an exremely large graham cracker and placed it gently on top of the chocolate and marshmallow blend.

Xander stepped back and admired his work. “Nice,” he commented. “My own personal s’more.”

“And?”

“You definitely look good enough to eat.”

(Request: Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy, Batman:TAS)

"Attraction" - Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

It’s not her blond hair or her petite frame. It’s not the tinkling laugh that is her voice. It’s not the lame jokes she tells. Or the pranks that she attempts and fails.

It’s something undefinable, something Ivy can’t put her finger on. As a scientist, she believes in rational thinking and explanations for everything.

Which is why her feelings for Harley puzzle her so.

Ivy can’t figure out why she longs to do more than hold hands as they fall asleep at night, or why she wants to help Harley with her makeup before a job.

She’s in love.

(New request: Sam Raimi/Bruce Campbell RPS)

"With Experience..." - Kakashi/Iruka (Naruto)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

The sound of sheets flapping in the breeze could be heard in the distance.

Kakashi shook his head as he taped and bandaged Iruka’s wound. “You need to be careful,” Kakashi shook his head.

Iruka grinned ruefully as he looked around the practice field. “Reminds me of us when we were their age. Such promise.”

Kakashi nodded and got to his feet. He extended a hand to Iruka, who took it and got up as well.

Kakashi slung an arm around Iruka’s shoulders, and together, they headed back into town.

“Drinks?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka nodded.

“I’ll buy the first round.”

(Request: Banky/Holden, Askewniverse, smut)

"Here's To You..." - Tim Glomb/April Margera (Viva La Bam)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

(Probably part of immicolia's 80s High School AU. If not, then it's its own AU thing. In high school. Around 500 words, and it's probably the most roundabout route I've ever taken to get to a joke.)

“I’m sorry Timothy, he’s not home right now.”

“Sorry to have bothered you, Mrs. Margera.” Tim lowered his head and turned to walk away.

April felt bad for him as she saw him walk away in the pouring rain. “Wait!” she called. “Would you like to come in and get dry? I’d feel terrible knowing I sent you home in this kind of weather.”

Tim smiled and eagerly returned to the house. She led him to the kitchen, where she ordered him to get out of his wet clothes. “I’ll just put these in the dryer, and you can wear this old robe of Phil’s until they’re ready.”

Tim went into the nearest bathroom, where he shucked his wet clothes and started to put the robe on. April opened the bathroom door without knocking and caught a glimpse of Tim as he wrapped the robe around himself.

“Sorry!” she blurted out. “I’ll just… there’s hot chocolate in the kitchen, and bring your clothes with you.”

They were both blushing when he returned to the kitchen. April took the wet clothes from him and busied herself with putting them in the dryer. Once that was done, she sat down at the table with Tim.

“So, Timothy—“

“Please, call me Tim,” he interrupted.

“So Tim,” she said. “How is it that you know Bam?”

“From school,” was the reply as Tim studied his mug intently.

“Oh, school,” April sighed. “Bam doesn’t really tell us anything about school, so to be able to finally meet a friend of his…”

“I just uh, I just know him from shop class. We’re supposed to be doing a woodworking project together, but he wasn’t in class today.”

April frowned at this.

“I didn’t mean to get Bam in trouble, Mrs. Margera.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Bam and school are… well, there’s always the GED, isn’t there?”

Tim nodded and sipped his hot chocolate. April looked over at the clock. “Your clothes should be done soon.”

“Thanks again, Mrs. Margera.”

“Please,” she smiled, “Call me April. Tell me about this project the two of you are supposed to be working on.”

Tim shrugged. “It’s not much of anything, yet.” He grew animated as he explained his elaborate plans for what was supposed to be a simple project. He was interrupted by the sound of the dryer’s buzzer going off.

“Well, it certainly sounds interesting, Tim. I’ll just go get those clothes for you.”

Tim finished the last of his hot chocolate and got to his feet. He carried the empty mug over to the sink and put it in.

“Oh, thanks,” said April when she returned with his clothes.

“No problem, Mrs.- I mean, April,” Tim grinned. “My mom raised me to be polite.”

April set the clothes down on the table. As she sat down, she bumped the table and spilled her hot chocolate on her slacks. “Oh, darn it!” she swore. “I’d better get out of these before they stain.” April undid the top of her slacks and began to pull them down before she remembered that she had company.

“Mrs. Margera,” smiled a blushing Tim. “You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”

(Request: Jay/Silent Bob, Askewniverse)

"Golden God" - Jay/Silent Bob (Askewniverse)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

“I am a GOLDEN GOD!” roared Jay from his perch atop the food court.

Silent Bob shrugged in a way that said to shoppers who passed by, “What can you do when your partner tries drinking the new shampoo made with beer at Better Your Body To The Beyond?”

Bob had tried tugging Jay down. He’d tried reasoning. Nothing had worked. So he was standing guard in case there was trouble or Jay got the bright idea to try something stupid.

Bob’s eyes widened as a familiar, menacing face approached. Finally, a way to get Jay down. “LaFours!” called Bob.

(New request: Tony Hawk/Bam Margera, Skater RPS)

Forgotten: Barbossa POTC

[guanin.livejournal.com]

‘You must be hungry.’

The tension in her eyes breaks. The fork clatters on the table. He watches her bite through the chicken, tearing flesh from bone. The ache, the hunger that burns in the back of his consciousness flares to life. A vague memory slides across his tongue. For a second, something materializes, becomes concrete; before he can recognize it, it evaporates. It hits him, the knowledge that his senses, rotten and dusty from ten years of neglect, can remember nothing, not the taste of wine nor of the apple that he clutches, hard and cold, in his hand.

Request: Dracula/Van Helsing

Sense Memory: Dracula/Van Helsing double drabble

[ranalore.livejournal.com]

"Gabriel."

He should not hesitate or linger here. This is the enemy, the vampire even Rome finds irredeemable, and it is his duty to kill the creature.

He cannot kill it, though, until he learns what it knows about him. "How do you know my name?"

The thing looks at him with a human face and smiles gently.

"Don't you remember me, Gabriel?"

There are echoes and undertones in the way it says his name. Hints of memories and secrets he's not sure he wants to remember, and yet....

The creature moves faster than thought, stands only a breath away and touches his face with cold fingers. Van Helsing can move that fast. He can kill that fast, and he's not sure why his own instincts didn't have the creature impaled on the end of a stake when it got that close. Except the touch of its hand is like the sound of his name, and while he doesn't remember, precisely, he at least feels there is something to be remembered.

"Remind me," he says.

Neither the creature's smile nor the creature's touch are gentle anymore, but that's all right. Van Helsing does not think they ever used to be.

END

Request: Harry/Ron or Harry/Ron/Hermione, Harry Potter

A bit of original

[changedbythesea.livejournal.com]

Don't feel I can do justice to characters yet.

I can picture how I want to surprise you one day soon. It's hot late afternoon. Heat shimmers from the cars in the parking lot. I'm wearing something that I feel good in, but not obvious. No skirts this time.

And I'm waiting.

Waiting for you to pull up from the office. Waiting for you to get out of the car in your shirtsleeves, tie loose, jacket over one arm. You walk up to the door absently and I'm waiting quietly. Right there. I don't surprise you, although this isn't the fantasy where you carry a gun and oh, I've been living here too long when the thought of a suit with a gun is hot but it is. It is. But you are surprised to see me because I might have been on your mind, but the air conditioning was foremost, followed by something cold to drink.

Perhaps that's what still on your mind as you unlock the door without out a word and motion me inside. The air conditioning has been running all day and I am instantly aware of each nerve ending tingling in the chill. I don't move much past the foyer, just enough for you to close and lock the door behind us.

Now you turn to look at me, clearly about to ask why I'm there. I don't let you answer. I have on hand on your tie, pulling, the other pushing as we fall back into that empty space that didn't quite fit a new shelf. A collision, but we don't notice. My hand is still on your tie but the other is now tangled in your hair as I kiss you thoroughly. I'm savoring sweat and stubble and surprise, as tiptoed I almost even our heights. Your hands that once cushioned the fall are slowly rising to my hips to grasp and tighten as I slide down your body to my flat feet.

Breathless, I say hello.

Request: Firefly, Mal and Kaylee, not necessarily shippy.

Firefly: Kaylee and Mal. May contain spoilers for series

[lyssie.livejournal.com]

"Now, you're sure you can fix it."

Kaylee rolled her eyes in exasperation. "YES, Cap'n. I'm sure I can fix the danged thing."

"Good, good..." He shifted, then hooked his hands on his gunbelt. "I wouldn't want..."

And then she understood. "Jubel Early is dead, Mal." She reached out and touched his arm. "It wasn't your fault. Weren't anyone's."

"Yeah, well..." Movement from along the companion-way distracted him, and Mal half-smiled. "You fix that engine now, or I'm leavin' you at the next stopoff."

"Yes, sir."

Request: The bottom of the ocean. Any fandom.

"Scenes From a Home Depot" - Jason Cameron/Evan Farmer (WYWO)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

(WYWO = While You Were Out) It's just two words shy of 600. I tried.

Evan checked his watch. "Are we... done yet John Bruce? Because I have places to be."

John Bruce didn't answer Evan, as he was studying the different colors of paint and trying to get to know them. As colors.

"Yeah, okay then. I'll catch up with you later," said Evan as he walked away. "Whoa!" he said as he bumped into someone.

"Don't worry about it," they said by way of reply.

Evan blinked. "Mark?"

"Evan?" Mark grinned. "How are you? Give me a hug!"

"Uh, yeah," Evan said as he gave Mark one of those half-hearted one-armed hugs.

John Bruce became instantly aware and forgot about the paint as he sensed Evan getting attention from someone else. "Mark," John Bruce drawled as he strolled over. "Imagine meeting you here."

Evan stepped back, unsure of what would happen. The last time these two had gotten together was at the annual Christmas party and that? Had not ended well. The pictures were amusing, though. So was the black eye Mark had sported for a few weeks after that.

"John Bruce."

"As long as the two of you know each other, I see no reason for me to stick around." Evan started to walk back, glancing occaisionally to make sure he didn't knock over a pyramid of paint cans.

Two different arms reached out and grabbed onto Evan. "Stay," they chorused.

"Uh, yeah." Evan stopped with the walking and found a shelf to lean against. He knew better than to cross two designers, and this could take awhile.

Mark began by attempting to be catty, which John Bruce promptly ignored, as a display of drawer-pulls caught his eye. Soon enough, Mark’s attempts to get under John Bruce’s skin were nothing more than a minor buzzing in John Bruce’s ear.

Meanwhile, Evan yawned and studied the shelf of paintbrushes he was leaning against. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a finger tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned to find a familiar, smiling, handsome and angular face. "Jason!" whispered Evan.

Jason put a finger to his lips. He jerked his head in the direction of the bickering designers. Evan shrugged and made a "What can you do?" gesture.

Jason smiled as he scooped Evan up into his arms and proceeded to carry him away.

"I knew those muscles were good for more than just show," Evan said once they were a few aisles away from where John Bruce and Mark were.

"Watch it with the jokes or I might ‘accidentally’ drop you.”

Evan was quiet after that, and leaned his head against Jason's shoulder. "My hero," he sighed. As they passed the checkout counters, Evan couldn't resist one more joke. "Aren't you going to scan me to see how much I'm worth?"

"If you don't work, I can always return you."

"Oh-*ho*! Now you're the one with the jokes, eh? Maybe you'd like to host?"

Jason grunted as he set Evan down. "I like things the way they are." He walked towards his truck and beeped off the alarm.

"Your place or mine?"

Jason favored Evan with a look that caused Evan to reply, "Stupid question. We *are* in the same hotel after all."

"That's better," Jason said as he opened the doors on the truck. They climbed in and after closing his door, Jason leaned in for a kiss.

After the kiss, Evan smiled. "So, gonna take me back to the store?"

Jason snorted as he started the truck up. "You know me. I prefer to try the tool out multiple times before I make up my mind."

(Request: Bill/Ted, Bill & Ted's...)

Excellent to Each Other: Bill/Ted

[ranalore.livejournal.com]

There has to be a special level of hell for this.

****
"Dude," Ted says, and Bill likes how hushed it is, as though they're somewhere sacred. Like the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame or something. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and then grins up at his best bud, his bandmate, the most righteous dude he's ever seen. And that's saying a lot, because he's been way farther than LA, or even San Fran.

Ted answers his grin, and continues. "I am so glad we went back to the future, man. Otherwise we wouldn't be enlightened enough to handle each other's boners."

"Dude, that was eloquent."

END

Request: Hisoka slash, Yami no Matsuei

"Plans To Be Made" - Pegasus/Joey (Yu-Gi-Oh!)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Pegasus watches Joseph duel. It’s impressive, the way his jaw grits with determination and his eyes blaze with an inner fire. His instincts about this one were right. Of course they were. Pegasus’s instincts are never wrong.

Pegasus can read Joseph’s mind if he chooses, he chooses not to. He wants to read the body language of the young man instead and see what he can discern from that.

Every move, every card played by Joey has a brutal graciousness to it, a hidden beauty underneath the rough-hewn exterior. It’s fascinating, really.

Win or lose, Pegasus has plans for Joseph.

(Request: Rusty/Linus, Ocean's 11 [2001])

"Second thoughts," Ocean's Eleven, double drabble

[jmtorres.livejournal.com]

"I'm not doing this. I didn't want to do it in the first place."

"You signed on. You'll do what I tell you."

"It's impossible. You just found out Ocean's only trying because of his ex, and you still want to do it?"

"Yes. And you know why? It will make us all very rich."

"All eleven us."

"Twelve."

"See? Even if we can, it'll be like that movie, 'It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World,' with the big W, and trying to cut the cake into too many slices, and someone trying to sneak seconds."

"Danny still gets his. It's his plan."

"What, you're not going to keep his cut yourself and just tell us it's for him?"

"Linus. Would I do that to my buddy? Just because he's still hung up on his ex-wife doesn't mean I'd screw him out of thirteen mil to teach him a lesson. I might let him take the fall spend a few months in jail, but I'd give him his money when he got out."

"You might--that a new part of the plan?"

"Yep. Just thought of it. This is gonna work. And then we will all be very, very rich."


Request, Donnie Darko/Frank

"Oh My God!" - Bear/Bear (Clerks: TAS/Late Night With Conan O'Brien)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

(69 words because it feels right. hee.)

Oh my God! Who is driving? Bear is driving! Who is that in the backseat? It is another bear! Oh my God! He is masturbating! No bear driving! Do not look in the backseat at bear masturbating! Look out bear driving!

Oh the humanity! Who has crashed? Bear has crashed! What an accident!

What is this in the backseat? Who is masturbating still? Oh my God! Bear is masturbating!

(Request: Adam/Eckhart, Mutant X)

Mutant X, Adam/Eckhart

[jmtorres.livejournal.com]

If any of the children ask Adam where he gets money for Sanctuary, the Double Helix, and all his equipment, there are two replies of approximately equal veracity. The first, GenomeX, would surprise them, but Adam could truthfully explain that the money is embezzled from GenomeX--they doesn't know they're funding the resistance--and the children would accept that easily. The second answer, Mason Eckhart, is more problematic. Eckhart liberates GenomeX funds for Adam's use, an arrangement that has worked for years, but Adam doubts the children would be understanding about the why of it.

Adam considers the money alimony.

(Request, B5, Sinclair/Garibaldi)

"Secrets" - Jay/Silent Bob (Askewniverse)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Jay wakes before Bob. He lies there, comforted by Silent Bob’s presence, his bulk. His just being there.

There have been horrible times when Jay’s had a nightmare, or just woke up. And Bob’s not there. Jay hates this, because it means he has to get out of bed and search the apartment, cursing the entire time.

Usually he’ll find Silent Bob watching TV. So Jay will grab a blanket and drape it over Bob and then curl up with him on the couch.

There are times, though, when Jay can’t find Bob in the apartment. Those are the times that hurt Jay. His partner doesn’t think enough of him to tell him where he’s going.

So Jay sits up all night until he returns, mindlessly flipping through the channels, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He doesn’t let himself doze off. He’s too angry for that.

And when Silent Bob returns, he always ALWAYS chooses that time to live up to his goddamn name. Jay swears that next time, he’ll follow to see where he goes and why it’s such a big motherfucking secret.

There’s laughter in Bob’s eyes as he hears this. A man has to have his secrets.

(Request: Jonathan Kent/Lex Luthor, Smallville)

"Snowball Fight" - Jonathan/Lex (Smallville)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

(Double drabble)

Jonathan watched as Clark and his friends had a snowball fight on the farm. He reflected on the carefree days of youth as the snowballs flew through the air.

Jonathan frowned as he heard a “whump!” and then an annoyed moo from one of the cows. “Guys!” he called, “Leave the cows out of it, okay?”

“Gosh, Mister Kent,” said Lex, an innocent expression on his face, “I hit that cow accidentally.”

“Sure, Lex. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Oh, you can count on that, sir.”

Jonathan made a sort of, “Mmm-hmm” noise and decided he might need to get closer to the action. Strictly to protect the cows. Not to nail anyone with a snowball or two. He whistled as he strolled through the snow and casually bent down to scoop up snow in one hand. As he walked, he expertly packed the snow into a ball.

The gleam of Lex’s bald head peeking out from under a hand-knitted cap that had been a gift from Martha was just too tempting a target. “Oh Lex,” Jonathan called.

“Yes?” Lex said as he turned around.

SPLAT!

Clark glared at his father.

“What? I was protecting the cows.”

“Mom!”

(Request: swordfight, any fandom)

"A Mermaid's Tail" - Spence/Fish (Leeches!)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

"Spence, I think there's something seriously wrong with this water."

Spence adjusted his glasses, frowning, as Fish flapped his tail against the surface of the lake. "Hmm?" He looked over at Fish. His legs were gone, replaced by a mermaid's tail. The scales glinted in the sun.

"Aaaaah!" cried Spence as he woke up.

Fish gently grabbed Spence's shoulder. "What's wrong, man?"

Spence shook his head. "I had this nightmare where you turned into a mermaid."

Fish giggled. "You need to lay off the anchovy pizza."

Spence snorted. "Joke all you want, I'm stopping the experimenting on the fish tomorrow."

(Request: Dan/Chris, The Brotherhood)

"Trail" - Tony Hawk/Jason Lee (Skater RPS)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

They’re shirtless, and Jason rolls over. He lands on top of Tony, who smiles. Jason smiles back. There’s a crinkling sound in the silence of the room from Jason’s chest hair pressing against Tony’s torso. The hair scratches Tony. He likes it. Enjoys the sandpapery rasp as Jason slides down lower..

Jason’s hands and head are now face to face with the crotch of Tony’s shorts. He kisses there before undoing the top of the shorts and unzipping them. One hand follows the pale trail of hair from Tony’s navel to the slightly darker curls below. Tony’s smile becomes wolf-like.

(Request: Beck/Travis, The Rundown)

"On Assignment" - Robin/Xander (Batman/BtVS)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Log: Returning from Sunnydale, CA. Investigation of alleged hellmouth went smoothly. Encountered what could be considered demons and vampires, minor injuries incurred.

Had no problems with surveillance. Focused my attention on one resident in particular, Alexander “Xander” Harris. He seemed to be a magnet for “demonic” activity, as various creatures attacked him.

Followed resident home multiple times to see if attacks continued at home. No further attacks at resident’s home, though resident seemed to have female friend with superpowers who saved him repeatedly. Investigate “Slayer” further to see if this phenomenon is specific to Sunnydale.

Used binoculars to observe resident at home. Resident proved to be handsome and fond of singing none too well in the shower….

Tim sighed as he hit delete on the last two sentences. Batman always wanted a detailed report, but Tim figured that those sentences were a bit more than he wanted Batman to know.

(Request: Jack Sparrow/Norrington, Pirates of the Carribean)

Re: "On Assignment" - Robin/Xander (Batman/BtVS)

[hannahrorlove.livejournal.com]

Request: Jack Sparrow/Norrington, Pirates of the Carribean

“Jack.” The name was both a question and a statement. Its owner wiped some plum juice off his face before replying.

“Whatever is the trouble, Jamie-love?”

Norrington looked at the wall for a moment. “I don’t quite know.”

The bite wasn’t loud like an apple, but was distracting nonetheless. “If you don’t know what the trouble is, how can you know if there’s trouble at all?”

Norrington smiled faintly. “I can’t help but wonder if this is a wise course of action.”

Jack grinned, spitting the stone into a wastebasket across the room. “Of course it’s not wise.

“It’s fun.”

Request: Gabriel and Thomas, The Prophecy

"Free As A Bird" - Tony Hawk/Bam Margera (Skater RPS)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Bam’s seen it before. How this gangly, too tall, seven foot, dorky man who looks like he might trip while he walks becomes a different person on the board.

On the board, he’s majestic, soaring and well, like a… bird.

It’s impressive, for lack of a better term.

Bam’s crush on Tony soars when he watches the man skate. He understands why Tony’s nickname is “Birdman”.

Bam doesn’t make much secret of his crush. Most people write it off as “Hero worship”, and that’s okay. Sure, that’s part of it. It’s much more than that. Much more.

As Tony knows.

(Request: Obi-Wan/Anakin, Star Wars Episode II)

200 words of Star Wars

[nostalgia-lj.livejournal.com]

If Anakin was born evil, then Obi-Wan is not to blame. His fall was inevitable and, yes, tragic, but no one’s fault.

Anakin was raised by a loving mother – a slave, but no worse than what other have suffered without turning Dark. If there was failure, it was not on her part.

Anakin was loved by Amidala, who soothed away his nightmares and bore two perfect children. The failure could not have been hers.

Anakin was trained by the Jedi, surrounded by friends and surrogate family. If there was failure, it would have been with Obi-Wan, who taught the boy as well as he could and tried not to dwell on his own doubts.

But the Jedi rarely fail, and the Council hold Kenobi in high esteem. Clearly, this was all inevitable, that despite the best intentions of all concerned, Anakin Skywalker would turn to the Dark Side. Between the two sunrises of Tatooine, twenty standard years ago, evil was incarnated in blond form.

The blame lies nowhere, but with the Force itself. The boy was born evil. Obi-Wan Kenobi is above reproach.

If Anakin was born evil, all these things hold true.



Obi-Wan does not believe that anyone is born evil.


request - doctor who; dalek angst omg!

New thread; Femslash; Spoilers for Ginger Snaps 2

[cimadness.livejournal.com]

A double drabble with Spoilers for Ginger Snaps 2
Request TBA when I think of one.


Her fingers dance a strange dance, made of blood and fire, of death and lies. The wolf sighs, and for a moment is content, and then the fingers speed up and there, there, and it’s almost as good as killing, could be as good, could be better if only . . . The girl rises and pulls off her flimsy protection, letting the smell of blood fill the air. The wolf stands up, pads forward, and begins to lap at the source of the smell, drawing forth musk, but the taste of blood fades as she continues to lick and her entire being screams out to bite down, to draw forth not a trickle of blood but fountains, to hear such lovely screams, but a voice inside her head stops her, the same voice that urges caution when she comes upon men with steel in their hands or at their sides. Soon, it whispers, soon. The girl speaks softly, telling the wolf to lick higher, and her voice is strange. Then she shudders and grasps the wolf’s head and the taste grows stronger as she pants. Heavy drops roll off the wolf’s tongue and down the girl’s slit. Soon, the voice whispers, soon.

"Enjoy the Silence" - Silent Bob/Oz (Askew/BtVS)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

Despite the noise of the bar, it’s silent around them. The two of them are accustomed to silence, usually of their own volition.

“So.” Oz says.

Silent Bob nods and flicks some ash off of his cigarette.

Oz studies Silent Bob’s face and watches as he raises his eyebrows and gestures to tell a story about himself and Jay.

“Really,” is Oz’s reply.

Silent Bob nods.

There is more of this back and forth until Oz speaks the longest sentence of the night. “Your place or mine?”

Silent Bob shrugs and speaks for the first time since introducing himself. “Yours.”

(Request: Neo/Kid, Matrix Reloaded/Revolutions)

Neo/Kid, Matrix Revolutions

[elekdragon.livejournal.com]

As the kid lay in the wreckage of the dock, he dreamed.

He saw the sentinels falling, littering the ground with their monstrous metal corpses. He heard the shouts of victory. He felt blood pouring over his head as he blinked through red-hazed shadows and saw a face.

Neo reached down through the darkness, and the kid felt a hand close over his, pulling him up, free of the twisted metal. He was weak, but Neo's body was warm and safe and whole as he supported the kid, nearly carrying him through the wreckage.

He was brought to a bed, his wounds bathed, his torn clothes removed. When he moaned, a hand was there to press against his cheek as Neo lay down beside him. The kid turned his head, hiding his face in Neo's neck as arms wrapped around his shoulders.

It was the most real thing he had ever felt in his life.

Then bright lights strobed in his face, and he opened his eyes.

"Hey, we've got a survivor here!" Strong arms lifted him out of the metal, patted him on the back, and quickly dragged him to the tunnels before another wave of sentinels could advance.

***

Request: Dune-verse fic involving sand (Leto a plus).

"Warm From the Dryer" - Spider-Man/Nightwing (Marvel/DC)

[j-crew-guy.livejournal.com]

(356 words, I'm too lazy to trim.)

Peter leaned against the wall, humming a tune as he waited in his boxer briefs. Doing your laundry yourself was the worst part of being a superhero. At least the colors of his costume didn’t bleed any more.

His eyes widened behind his mask as he saw another costumed vigilante walk into the laundromat. This one was braver than most, he wore only a mask around his eyes. Peter nodded at the newcomer, who nodded back. They were the only two in the place.

“You new in town?” Peter asked once the other guy had loaded his washer.

“Yeah, visiting for a conference.”

“Ahhh.”

“You?”

“I’m local. Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” Peter held his hand out and then realized how stupid that seemed, so he pulled it back and rubbed his head.

The other guy nodded. “Nightwing.”

“Where you from?”

”Bludhaven.”

Peter nodded. “Kinda brave,” he said, indicating Nightwing’s mask.

“Oh, this? I just started that way when I was a kid and it stuck when I grew up.”

Peter whistled at this information.

“Yeah. Sometimes I can’t believe it either. How about you? How long?”

“Geez,” Peter said as he thought. “Since, oh… high school.”

Nightwing nodded and adjusted a strap on his tank top. “Got any powers?”

Peter shrugged. “Strength, agility and speed of a spider, along with this Spider-sense I have. I also came up with a way to shoot webs. You?”

Nightwing shook his head.

Peter was visibly impressed.

Nightwing shrugged and said, “My mentor, he… he showed me that you don’t need superpowers to be a hero.”

Peter nodded. “I’m not sure I would be a hero if it wasn’t for these abilities. But I learned a long time ago, with great power comes great responsibility.”

The buzzer on Peter’s dryer sounded, and they both looked visibly disappointed at the sound. “Listen,” Peter said. “I’ve got nowhere to be right now, want to go on patrol with me once your costume’s done in the wash? Maybe get some coffee afterward?” Nightwing smiled and nodded as Peter pulled his costume on. “Nothing quite like a costume warm from the dryer, is there?”

(Request: Cheesecake. Any fandom.)

Re: "Warm From the Dryer" - Spider-Man/Nightwing (Marvel/DC)

[iamari.livejournal.com]

Ooo...I like! Very much.