comment_fic 1127 - 1131: SN, RPF, Leverage, Charmed
Title: fair ground
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: pre-series
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, weechesters, cotton candy
"C'mon, Sammy," Dean says, pulling the pillow off of his head. "We're goin' to the fair."
Sam's been pouting since Thursday, when Dad said they'd be moving on at the end of the month. Like always, Sam had made friends, made a place for himself even though he'd showed up a month late. Dean no longer bothers.
"The fair?" Sam mumbles, blinking at the light. "What?"
"You know, that place with rigged games, rickety rides, and awesome food?" Dean says. "You've been talkin' about it for weeks. Wanna go or not?"
Sam still thinks they'll settle down somewhere and stay forever. He still thinks Dad's crusade will end sometime. He's twelve years old and thinks what's wrong can always be fixed.
Dean knows better. Has since he was younger than Sammy is now.
"Yeah!" Sam shouts, bouncing off the bed.
.
Dean spends money at the fair that he can't afford, but that's his problem, not Sam's. They both win stupid prizes but it makes Sam smile, and that's what's important. Sam gets a piece of pizza from one of the carts and Dean gets a corndog, and they watch one of the shows.
There's cotton candy at one of the stalls, and Dean's stomach is already rebelling because eating that greasy corndog after going without for two days was clearly a mistake. But Sam bounds up to the stall and chooses the unnaturally blue stick of cotton candy, and Dean can't say no.
Sam still believes in happy endings. Dean'll keep it that way as long as he can.
Title: freedom
Fandom: One Direction RPF
Disclaimer: they’re real people who belong to themselves
Warning: none
Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 145
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, to thine self be true.
"I wanna grow my hair out," Harry says one day, after another interview where he got asked about girls. "D'ya think they'll tell me I can't?"
"How long?" Louis asks, leaning back against the sofa as Harry leans over it, so that he can see Harry's face.
"I don't know yet," Harry says. "But long." He's nibbling on his lip. "What if someone says it's stupid?"
Louis reaches out to tangle his fingers in the curls that have called to him as long as he's known Harry, since before they actually met. It's what he first noticed, after all, stomach all fluttery with nerves while stood in line.
"The only person whose opinion matters is yours, Harold," he says. "But I'll grow my hair out, too, how about?"
Harry nods, exhaling sharply, and then lets himself flop over the sofa, nearly elbowing Louis in the face.
Title: of thieves and hoards
Fandom: Leverage
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 290
Point of view: third
Prompt: Leverage, author's choice, fantasy realm AU
Prequel to this
"Dubenich knows our plays, and our faces," Nate says, scowling down at the files Dubenich had given him. He scans them now like he should've done before, negating the listening charm cast on the paper. Damnit. Thankfully, he can tell it's passive and has to be activated before transmitting, which means Dubenich will think it was destroyed in the explosion along with them.
"I can just pop in and shoot him," Parker offers. She's perched on the wall, legs folded, shuffling the wind in the room Nate's found for them to lay low. "No blockers work on me."
"That's terrifyin'," Hardison says. He's already set all his equipment up and is back in Dubenich's system. “And, also,” Hardison adds, “he’s already left a trail that’ll lead him dyin’ straight to us, even though we’re supposed to be dead.”
“That’s cheating,” Parker complains, kicking off the wall and floating to peer over Hardison’s shoulder.
He turns his head slightly. “Do you mind?”
Nate sighs. “You have any ideas?” he asks Eliot. Eliot’s been pacing around the room the entire time they’ve been here, and something about him has always tripped Nate’s instincts.
But Eliot looks at him. “You said he knows our plays, our faces. I have some forms that aren’t on file, but if we’ll be blamed for his death, it’s useless.” He shrugs. “You’re the mastermind, Ford. Give us a play he doesn’t know.”
A play Dubenich wouldn’t know…
“He’ll have wards against illusions, which means all of us except Eliot can’t go after him directly,” Nate muses aloud. He asks Eliot, “Any of your forms human-shaped?”
Eliot nods. “I can shift into anything that bleeds.”
At that, all three of them look at him. “And I thought you were terrifyin’,” Hardison mutters at Parker.
“We need Sophie,” Nate says with a grin.
“And who’s Sophie?” Eliot asks.
Nate laughs. “Dubenich will not see her coming.”
Title: nickname
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: canon character death
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 120
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, Sam & Dean, Sammy
"He's the only one who gets to call me that," Sam said once, nodding towards Dean.
Dad called him that, up until the day he died, and he knows that Mom did, too, though he of course doesn't remember. Bobby, Pastor Jim, Caleb, most of Dad's connections, they all called him that, until he grew taller than them.
Only one person at Stanford ever called him that, and after the way he reacted, they didn’t but the once.
It's an admonishment and a comfort and a reminder. It's love in two syllables. It's so many things that can't be said.
It's a plea, while Sam is dying in the mud, wrapped in Dean's arms, and it follows him into the darkness.
Title: birthday gifts
Fandom: Charmed
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: unchanged future
Pairings: Bianca/Chris
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 195
Point of view: third
Prompt: Charmed, gen, spells cast on your birthday are more potent
He never tells them, but the first time he steps back in time, he left the future on his birthday. In that first life, he'd barely had time for a magical education and learned everything fly-by-night, cobbled together from books he could find and his memories of the good times.
It's so much worse than he ever lets on, even to Grandpa.
There are many things he's never taught, never realizes he knows, and so much of his magic is instinct. He knows his magic in a way his aunts and mom never did because they didn't grow up with it. They never knew it was locked inside them.
He and Wyatt and their cousins-their magic is a part of them, another limb, another sense.
He knows so much more than he'll ever realize.
Chris can't explain it to Bianca, but he knows he has to cast the spell on his birthday as close to the moment of his birth as he can.
The last thing he hears before he steps into the portal is, Chris? in a mind-to-mind touch he hasn't felt in years. He doesn't hesitate to send back, Goodbye.
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: pre-series
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, weechesters, cotton candy
"C'mon, Sammy," Dean says, pulling the pillow off of his head. "We're goin' to the fair."
Sam's been pouting since Thursday, when Dad said they'd be moving on at the end of the month. Like always, Sam had made friends, made a place for himself even though he'd showed up a month late. Dean no longer bothers.
"The fair?" Sam mumbles, blinking at the light. "What?"
"You know, that place with rigged games, rickety rides, and awesome food?" Dean says. "You've been talkin' about it for weeks. Wanna go or not?"
Sam still thinks they'll settle down somewhere and stay forever. He still thinks Dad's crusade will end sometime. He's twelve years old and thinks what's wrong can always be fixed.
Dean knows better. Has since he was younger than Sammy is now.
"Yeah!" Sam shouts, bouncing off the bed.
.
Dean spends money at the fair that he can't afford, but that's his problem, not Sam's. They both win stupid prizes but it makes Sam smile, and that's what's important. Sam gets a piece of pizza from one of the carts and Dean gets a corndog, and they watch one of the shows.
There's cotton candy at one of the stalls, and Dean's stomach is already rebelling because eating that greasy corndog after going without for two days was clearly a mistake. But Sam bounds up to the stall and chooses the unnaturally blue stick of cotton candy, and Dean can't say no.
Sam still believes in happy endings. Dean'll keep it that way as long as he can.
Title: freedom
Fandom: One Direction RPF
Disclaimer: they’re real people who belong to themselves
Warning: none
Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 145
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, to thine self be true.
"I wanna grow my hair out," Harry says one day, after another interview where he got asked about girls. "D'ya think they'll tell me I can't?"
"How long?" Louis asks, leaning back against the sofa as Harry leans over it, so that he can see Harry's face.
"I don't know yet," Harry says. "But long." He's nibbling on his lip. "What if someone says it's stupid?"
Louis reaches out to tangle his fingers in the curls that have called to him as long as he's known Harry, since before they actually met. It's what he first noticed, after all, stomach all fluttery with nerves while stood in line.
"The only person whose opinion matters is yours, Harold," he says. "But I'll grow my hair out, too, how about?"
Harry nods, exhaling sharply, and then lets himself flop over the sofa, nearly elbowing Louis in the face.
Title: of thieves and hoards
Fandom: Leverage
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 290
Point of view: third
Prompt: Leverage, author's choice, fantasy realm AU
Prequel to this
"Dubenich knows our plays, and our faces," Nate says, scowling down at the files Dubenich had given him. He scans them now like he should've done before, negating the listening charm cast on the paper. Damnit. Thankfully, he can tell it's passive and has to be activated before transmitting, which means Dubenich will think it was destroyed in the explosion along with them.
"I can just pop in and shoot him," Parker offers. She's perched on the wall, legs folded, shuffling the wind in the room Nate's found for them to lay low. "No blockers work on me."
"That's terrifyin'," Hardison says. He's already set all his equipment up and is back in Dubenich's system. “And, also,” Hardison adds, “he’s already left a trail that’ll lead him dyin’ straight to us, even though we’re supposed to be dead.”
“That’s cheating,” Parker complains, kicking off the wall and floating to peer over Hardison’s shoulder.
He turns his head slightly. “Do you mind?”
Nate sighs. “You have any ideas?” he asks Eliot. Eliot’s been pacing around the room the entire time they’ve been here, and something about him has always tripped Nate’s instincts.
But Eliot looks at him. “You said he knows our plays, our faces. I have some forms that aren’t on file, but if we’ll be blamed for his death, it’s useless.” He shrugs. “You’re the mastermind, Ford. Give us a play he doesn’t know.”
A play Dubenich wouldn’t know…
“He’ll have wards against illusions, which means all of us except Eliot can’t go after him directly,” Nate muses aloud. He asks Eliot, “Any of your forms human-shaped?”
Eliot nods. “I can shift into anything that bleeds.”
At that, all three of them look at him. “And I thought you were terrifyin’,” Hardison mutters at Parker.
“We need Sophie,” Nate says with a grin.
“And who’s Sophie?” Eliot asks.
Nate laughs. “Dubenich will not see her coming.”
Title: nickname
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: canon character death
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 120
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, Sam & Dean, Sammy
"He's the only one who gets to call me that," Sam said once, nodding towards Dean.
Dad called him that, up until the day he died, and he knows that Mom did, too, though he of course doesn't remember. Bobby, Pastor Jim, Caleb, most of Dad's connections, they all called him that, until he grew taller than them.
Only one person at Stanford ever called him that, and after the way he reacted, they didn’t but the once.
It's an admonishment and a comfort and a reminder. It's love in two syllables. It's so many things that can't be said.
It's a plea, while Sam is dying in the mud, wrapped in Dean's arms, and it follows him into the darkness.
Title: birthday gifts
Fandom: Charmed
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: unchanged future
Pairings: Bianca/Chris
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 195
Point of view: third
Prompt: Charmed, gen, spells cast on your birthday are more potent
He never tells them, but the first time he steps back in time, he left the future on his birthday. In that first life, he'd barely had time for a magical education and learned everything fly-by-night, cobbled together from books he could find and his memories of the good times.
It's so much worse than he ever lets on, even to Grandpa.
There are many things he's never taught, never realizes he knows, and so much of his magic is instinct. He knows his magic in a way his aunts and mom never did because they didn't grow up with it. They never knew it was locked inside them.
He and Wyatt and their cousins-their magic is a part of them, another limb, another sense.
He knows so much more than he'll ever realize.
Chris can't explain it to Bianca, but he knows he has to cast the spell on his birthday as close to the moment of his birth as he can.
The last thing he hears before he steps into the portal is, Chris? in a mind-to-mind touch he hasn't felt in years. He doesn't hesitate to send back, Goodbye.