Alcatraz Rules & Regs Playing Cards Prompting Meme
Hey!
So I won qwertyfaced's drabble challenge at the WC Fandom Meetup today, and my prize was a souvenir pack of playing cards from Alcatraz which have the rules and regulations from the prison printed on each one. Here's a sample, from one of the two jokers:
( Read more... )
So I won qwertyfaced's drabble challenge at the WC Fandom Meetup today, and my prize was a souvenir pack of playing cards from Alcatraz which have the rules and regulations from the prison printed on each one. Here's a sample, from one of the two jokers:
( Read more... )
Comments 49
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(P.S. brain surgery fic? :( )
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“Mozzie,” Jeffries said to the small boy, who turned in his seat and blinked up at him through the ridiculous glasses that were all Jeffries could afford for him. Not for the first time, Jeffries was struck by his resemblance to an owl.
“Yeth, Mr. Jeffrieth?” Moz’s attempts to eradicate his lisp were still futile.
“I was wondering where all the comic books I saw in the rec room came from. Amy Lynn said you bought them.”
“Brought, Mr. Jeffrieth. I found them next to a dumpthter behind the drug thtore.”
“Really? Including Justice Lad Issue 11?” Jeffries knew that issue - the one that introduced Justice Lad’s ultimate nemesis (and sometime girlfriend), Feline Fatale; he’d had it as a child himself, and knew it would be worth way more than its 25-cent price tag ( ... )
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This is wonderful :D I now have an image of little Moz with those huge glasses and missing a front tooth :P
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“Well, we’re good and stuck here, Neal,” Moz regretfully informed his friend and protégé as he returned to their hiding place in the museum’s storeroom. Dammit, he was going to kill Heshie for the bad intel - the security system of the place had clearly been recently upgraded, and he and Neal were stuck there until morning. He hoped the tight space behind the back wall here would remain undetected by the guards.
“Shit,” Neal muttered, and shivered, and for the first time Moz noticed he was sweating - really sweating. He sat hugging ( ... )
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Not just sick fic, but singing sick fic!!!
Of course we do know that Neal is quite adept at creating a disturbance when he's not himself.
Thank you RC!
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May I have the king Jack of Hearts, please? WC, obviously. :)
(changed to Jack because, well, that's Neal to me...*g*)
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Uhm, I'll go with the first that comes to mind, seven of spades, WC of course ♥
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(Or: the obligatory Peter/Neal rough sex fill \o/)
How it devolves so quickly, Peter can’t really say. All he knows is that when he finally has the time to think, he’s wiping cum off his tie and Neal is looking up at him with a smirk on his face that’s so debauched and triumphant that Peter can only blink at him stupidly.
“I want to know what the hell you thought you were doing out there?” Peter practically screams, grabbing Neal’s arm and spinning him around. It’s late - very late, and while Neal's exposing his undercover status to their latest perp ultimately had led to an arrest, it didn’t make it (or the guns that had been drawn any less dangerous.
“Solving this unsolvable case for you,” he says, full of cocky swagger. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“You know that’s not my point - you know -“ Peter can’t say the words, you might have been killed. But Neal isn’t hearing Peter, or noticing the fact he’s upset. His face is alight with an inner energy and he clearly just doesn’t ( ... )
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Thank you so much! \o/ *happy dance*
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