That new post feel

[likeabulldozer]

1. Pick someone from here

2. Leave me a comment with the muse you want in the subject (or let me pick). Add a prompt of some sort (pictures, quotes, song lyrics or scenarios). Unless you tell me otherwise, there is an excellent chance it'll end up shippy. Let me know if assumed CR isn't okay.

3. Profit! I'll do the rest.

Comments

Have a Lana Lang... Your pick, assumed cr is fine!

[nomoreinnocence]

… you keep me warm, you keep me warm... what's your middle name, do you hate your job, do you fall in love too easily...

[oneguyinaunitard]

Back before Uncle Ben died, before Spider-man, Peter's plan had been to go to MIT. However, once Uncle Ben had died, leaving his aunt wasn't an option. NYU was a good school. They had a good science program and he could stay at home with Aunt May. He'd met Lana at NYU, a girl from Kansas with eyes that kept him awake in the middle of the night and distracted him in the middle of the day.

It'd taken him weeks to work up the courage to ask her out, but once he had, they'd worked so well together. He hasn't told her he was Spider-man, and he isn't sure he's going to. That had gotten Gwen killed, a wound that is still raw. He wants to protect Lana from Spider-man, and if he has to lie a little to do that then so be it. It's all going to plan. She thinks he works too much for a job that pays too little, but then so does Aunt May.

He's hurrying to a lab, already late when the text messages light up his phone. Campus security is warning everyone to stay inside, turn off the lights, cover their windows and lock their doors. Peter ducks into a bathroom, strips off his clothes and crams them in a backpack, leaving the backpack under the sink in the bathroom before moving into action.

What Campus Security didn't tell the students is that the shooter already has a hostage, one of their own and he's making demands. Peter's heart nearly chokes him when he catches sight of Lana, a gun to her head, the shooter's arm wrapped around her neck, yelling at the top of his lungs that he will shoot if he doesn't get what he wants. He needs someone to get into the grade database.

Spider-man steps out into the open, hands up. "Hey, I get it. You've got a C or a D. Gotta keep those grades up, stay on the Dean's list, keep your parents happy, but man....there's gotta be a better way. You know, study groups, tutoring..."

For Gansey

[adamparrish]

QUOTE : "Do you have any idea how much the things you say affect me?"

[therealgansey]

It was one of those idyllic spring days in Henrietta. The air is warm, but not stifling yet. They've a blanket spread out in the field and a lunch that the ladies at 300 Fox Way packed. Blue is off with Noah, Ronan is futzing with Chainsaw and Gansey is lying on his back, sunglasses in place, mint leaf in his mouth. His hands are behind his head and Adam is beside him. There's a conversation of sorts going on between them that consists of words, but also dips and lulls in the conversation. The latter because Gansey guards every word he says, terrified they will become blunt weapons that will ruin this moment.

"I had hoped, today would be a chance or everyone to relax. We've earned this, I believe."

For Gracie!

[movingthechains]

[dorkify]

The yacht had been amazing. Honestly, there isn't much about this holiday that hasn't been amazing. Peter had rented (or let's be real, bought) a yacht, surprised Gracie upon graduation and flown her to florida to get on the yacht. The following days had been spent sunning, scuba diving, wind surfing and island hopping. The evening had consisted of an amazing dinner cooked by the resident chef (because of course the yacht had a chef as well as a captain) and a sunset that could have been on a postcard. Perfection is the only possible way to describe the entire trip, so of course, Gracie is about to make it better or make it a whole lot worse.

She's sitting between Peter's legs, his arms wrapped around her, her head tilted back to rest against his chest. The sunset is so pretty it practically hurts, but she can't enjoy it completely because what happens next is weighing heavily on her mind. With a deep breath and a hurried exhaltion she asks

"Can we talk about something?"

For Angel

[thesight]

[epiphanyed]

Angel smells the blood and feels her trickling in his veins before he sees her splayed on her back on the merry-go-round. Her head tips just off the end of it as it goes round and round. At first he thinks she's dead but that tickle under his skin wouldn't be a tickle if she were. He approaches carefully, aware of how dangerous Dru can be. She's got her arms out wide, blood from her wrists dripping thick and dark on the metal of the playground equipment.

"Drusilla, perhaps it's time to go in," he suggests as he approaches the merr-go-round, sitting on the edge of it. He picks up her wrist, tugging his shirt out of his waistband and pressing the hem of it to the wound.

For Sawyer

[tipjar]

[johnnystorm]

Sawyer didn't cry very often. She really, really didn't cry very often, but the last couple of days had been rotten. School was over for the summer. They'd moved all the students out of the dorms, which meant Sawyer was back at the house she'd once shared with her mother and her aunt. However, said aunt was in China managing an account and wouldn't get back for several days. Ava was off to see her father for a few weeks and that left Sawyer alone at the condo. Once upon a time, solitude had been something she'd done well. However, since her power had manifested, solitude wasn't something she wanted. That had only gotten worse when her mother died. Yes, she could have found a party to go to, but getting smashed and puking everywhere wasn't really Sawyer's idea of fun. It never had been. So, on Friday she'd been cleared out of her dorm room. On Saturday she'd overflowed the washing machine. On Sunday she'd broken a vase that her mother had loved and that had been far too much. Anger, fire and heat had rushed up her throat , stretching her skin and exploding candles in their glass jars. Her bare feet had scorched the wooden floors and she'd passed out. She'd woken up later severely dehydrated, drank as much water as she could stand and slept for the rest of the afternoon only to be woken late evening by a fire dream.

That was when she'd given up on sleep and coping like an adult. She'd gone on line, waiting until he'd shown up. She sort of pounced on him as soon as his named had flashed up.

[johnnystorm: no good, bad weekend. tell me something to make me smile?]

You pick!

[sempreadagio]

[callmesir]

Most of the time when John exorcised a demon, the body the demon had possessed was just that, a body. The demon had abused the person so thoroughly that they didn't survive. Jill had been different. She'd still been alive, though severely injured, when John had exorcised the demon. He'd scooped her up, dropped her off at the hospital and hit the road again. His profession, his lifestyle, didn't allow him to think about what became of the people he saved. When he'd gotten the call months later from a girl named Jill, a girl that he'd saved, he hadn't know what to make of it. I'm being haunted she'd said in a voice whisper soft and stretched thin. She'd gone onto to explain that it wasn't a literal haunting (she hadn't even known those were possible, but hadn't been surprise). She was simply having a difficult time dealing with the possession, with the things she'd done while possessed.

The South, for whatever reason, was a hotbed for supernatural activity, which meant John wasn't that far away. He'd driven down to Birmingham, sat in a piano bar and listened to the girl he'd saved play piano and chain smoke. A bottle of scotch later, she'd ended up in his bed. Several more stops in Birmingham that very closely resembled that night and she'd ended up in his heart, but it wasn't until she'd helped him with an actual haunting on the campus of UA that anything more had come of it.

Now, for reasons he didn't want to stare too directly at, they were in a deserted cabin in the middle of an Alabama forest trying to catch something that was killing campers. John didn't have a clue what it was though, not yet. He's sitting in front of a fireplace with a glass of scotch cleaning his guns and occasionally jotting something down in his journal, trying to figure out what the hell they were chasing. It's Jill's first real hunting trip and he's not entirely sure how that happened or if this is even a good idea.

For Hellboy

[becausegreen]

[howbigcanitbe]

It had been karaoke with a mission. The BRPD couldn't keep him away once he'd found out about Lorne's bar and the demon's powers. Hellboy had questions. He'd always had questions. There was so much about his future that was up in the air. Lorne could give him answers, or at least reassure him.

Somehow, singing had led to drinking and drinking had led to talking far past closing time. Hellboy is the only one left in the bar, a can of PBR in one hand and a pyramid of cans at his elbow.

"I dunno. You'd think I'd get used to the starin'. Been goin' on for decades now. Still bugs me though, people lookin' like I'm the devil come up from hell to get 'em." He takes a swig of beer. "Alright, so two outta three is right, but I ain't out to get 'em."

ᴛғʟɴ sᴛʏʟᴇ: ᴇʀɪᴄ ɴᴏʀᴛʜᴍᴀɴ

[waitress]

This is me reassuring you that I'm still alive and making sure you still are

[vikingly]

Not for several hundred years. However, I appreciate the reassurance and I'm well enough.

Paging Dean Winchester

[callszombiebullshit]

[ Zoey's raring to go, so as soon as Dean parks the Impala she's hopping out from the passenger seat and circling the car to the trunk. Once there, she cracks her knuckles before lifting the trunk lid and looking in at what they've got available for their next job. ]

Ready for this?

sorry this is so late

[dudeimbatman]

[ Dean gets his favorite handgun from the glovebox and tucks it into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back before walking around to the trunk. He gets a machete out and hands it over to Zoey. ]

This ought to help.

[ He hesitates at the flame thrower before moving to a knife that's only slightly smaller than the machete. ]

guess for whooooo

[choicemade]

Sorry this is so late

[oneguyinaunitard]

[ It isn't a date. It isn't a date. It isn't a date. He has to keep reminding himself of that as he walks toward her. He's been stalking her for a while, but being this close to her makes his head swim. He can't breathe and wow this is ridiculous.

It isn't a date. ]

So-so-so how-how are you? I mean...how have you been? You look--look fantastic.

[ He's so tied up in knots over how this isn't a date that he can hardly breathe. Yeah. This is going to go well.]

inara serra let's au this shit right up just after inara leaves serenity?

[dynameis]

In the world after Earth That Was, history had been lost, and facts twisted. A civilization long-gone: there were no true Amazons left alive to tell tales of the glory of battle.

These days, Amazon has taken on new meaning: Women who live together, work together, form bonds of trust and love beyond those of their clients. Their trade is the same though each individual's skillset differs. Among them, Inara Serra is a known name that carries with it respect, awe, and sometimes rumor.

Admiration, too, depending on the factions of the Guild a person frequented. Diana, herself, tended to travel among them all to teach the women self defense and fighting techniques that would set them apart and tailor their services to a specific clientele. In those circles of women who were adventurous and curious, Inara Serra was most certainly admired.

"You should hear what they say of you," Diana says with a teasing smile. Inara's fencing technique had rivaled her own as they grew up through training together. There was no one else of any gender that Diana liked to spar with more. Watching Inara with an epee was akin to watching her dance.

A helpful setting, given the large expanse and emptiness of the training room this early in the day.

[theambassador]

Inara has yet to understand the fascination that the Guild at large has with her. Honestly, she was simply there. Mal and the rest of the crew of Serenity had been far more adventurous. Yet, regardless of her protesting, the fascination continues.

Diana has become on of Inara's favorite people to spend time with. Even if she weren't as charming, interesting and kind as she is, she would garner Inara's respect for what she's trying to do. More and more companions are venturing outside the core (because of Inara) and it's a dangerous place out there. A companion that can protect herself is becoming more a necessity than a novelty.

Inara rolls her eyes, dismissing Diana's words with a flick of her wrist. "They exaggerate. Mal's no more a pirate than I am. There was no temple and I assure you, we irritated each other far too much to make love in it had there been one."

The flush of her cheeks and overly defense tilt of her chin, as well as the arch of her brows might out her as being a dirty liar. Her words were all true, but only because the reality of 'Mal and Inara' had been far more complicated than anything they could say.

you know.

[haelaeh]

i hate cats. they're so curious, it's not their damn business.

[littlebummed]

Wait. Do cats even like you? They don't like me. At all.

[heran]

i went around and congratulated every guy that had a beard for having one

[keepingwatch]

And the award for thoroughly trashed goes too...wait, are you home? Are you okay? You didn't drive, did you? You need a designated driver, don't you? And Allison isn't answering her phone. Or Aidan. I was your last resort, wasn't I?

isaac or jacob! whoever strikes your fancy.

[pmuch]

He's new so bear with me but I want to play with him

[littlebummed]

[ The beach is a new experience for Isaac; one he approaches with a good deal of trepidation. However, once he's there, he's a bit like a little kid. He's far too easy to coerce into goofing off and it's not long before he's cajoling her into goofing off as well. ]

There's no way. [ he warns her, chuckling and shaking his head. ] I'm too heavy and taller. [ But that doesn't stop Kate from wanting to try and flip him, nor does it stop him from letting her try. The end result is them in a puppy pile on the sand, laughter echoing in the growing dusk. He stops laughing abruptly, leaning back on his elbows. ]

Look. [ He's nodding at the sunset, at the way the sky is turning red, orange and yellow, tinged around the edges with purple and blue.]

( CW suicide ) YOU KNOW WHO DON'T DENY ME

[tweedlestupid]

Nobody will miss me.

People talk about being in control like it's just a pair of pants you slip on and voila that's it: you're in. They don't mention that you have to spin the thread, make the needle, shear the sheep-- oh, whatever. You get it.

At least Jack thinks she does, now. Her toes slide over the edge of the building that was terribly easy for her to infiltrate given she's practically invisible (though climbing onto the opposite side of the railing on the roof wasn't cake) and she wonders for a second if there is even a single person out there wondering where she is.

Maybe. But they aren't looking for her. She's never been important enough to look after. Always just independent enough to know that she'd get by. A little too awkward to try to get close too. Moved too fast through life, like it's a race. The words echo in her head, the voice of the only good social worker she ever had a distant memory now. Life isn't a race, Jack. We'll all get to the end eventually.

The ground is pretty far down.

But it is a race. To see who can achieve the most, do the best, be the richest. Jack's pretty sure she could be the fastest, if she could only stop hurting people when it decided to kick into gear for her whenever it felt like. And what good would that do her? She'd wind up dissected on a table in some egghead's lab. She'd rather just feed some worms, thanks.

At least then she'd feel like she matters.

[vikingly]

Is it trite to say that if control were that easy, it wouldn't be worth as much? Yeah, probably.

Maybe they aren't looking for her, but Eric is watching her. He has been watching her for weeks. At this point, he's introduced himself to her, befriended her a little, done his charming, fatherly thing. He even told her a pretty story about his 'daughter', Pam.

Of course it's a race. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.

The ground is very far down.

There are other ways to feel useful, to win the race (outlive everyone else) and Eric is lurking in the shadows of the rooftop watching. He's suspected that Jack is suicidal for some time, but this is the turning point. This is where he finds out just how far this fragile, amazing human girl is willing to go.

It's not until she jumps that he steps forward, faster than the eye can see, faster than she can fall. He steps off the ledge after her, but doesn't fall, hand reaching out to snatch her wrist. Yeah, the impact probably snaps her hard enough to nearly (if not completely) dislocate her shoulder, but then hitting the ground would have hurt as well so Eric doesn't feel too terrible.

"Easy, Hummingbird. There's a much better way."

gimme stiles!

[gopy]

We'll make it fun. If I can make wii bowling into a drinking game, I can make studying US History II into a sex game.

As you wish

[keepingwatch]

[One moment. Brain short circuiting. Okay so Lydia Martin and him aren't anything new (sort of new. still. kind of new. always surprising) but Lydia, sex and him will never be something that doesn't momentarily short circuit his brain. Okay. He can type coherently. Maybe. Hopefully. He's going to try anyway. ]

I--uhm--I can not express how forward I am looking to US History right now. Civil War. Let's go. My dad is at work for the rest of the night. My house?

For gus:

[that_cost]

Re: For gus:

[itsametaphor]

[ rainy days are actually some of gus' favorite days. they're an excuse to stay inside, play video games, read books and watch movies. on rainy days, he doesn't feel as if he has to go find something to do.

today is the perfect sort of day for staying inside. it's rainy and just cool enough for a blanket. charlie is over and she and gus are sprawled on the couch, blanket pulled up over them, bowl of popcorn on the floor, sharing a pair of earbuds and an ipod.]

Oh. You have to hear this one. [ he picks up the ipod between them and starts scrolling through the music until he finds the song he wants Charlie to hear. ]

for whomever! told you he'd happen tonight

[scire]

[also I'm fine in his universe or au-ing him into anyone else's, just say the word!]

His world is totally fine

[johnnystorm]

[ It's kind of a funny thing, accidentally set your entire village on fire and they set up the lynch mob. It's not as if she'd meant to burn down the mess hall and it's not as if anyone had gotten hurt. If that had happened, she probably would have banished herself.

The thing about being banished is that two people can survive easier than one, which is why Sawyer and the insufferable, arrogant, rude boy (as if she weren't all of those things in girl form) and Sawyer are sticking together. She's on one side of the fire, glaring at him through the flames and he's on the other, pretending she doesn't exist. ]

Look, it's not as if I want to be here either, but if we're going to survive together, we could at least bicker out loud. I can only insult you so much with glares and eye rolls.

[ And she kind of misses the closeness of her village, the people and the lack of solitude. Don't get her wrong, she still hates him even if he is pretty but she can talk and hate him at the same time, perhaps more.]

Rose Tyler

[im_the_doctor]

Afraid to lose control
And caught up in this world
I've wasted time, I've wasted breath
I think I've thought myself to death

Let me know if you want me to change anything

[iwasherefirst]

Single minded focus is something that Rose Tyler has in spades, particularly when it comes to one Doctor. Undeniable fact #1 Rose can be very persuasive when she wants to be. Undeniable fact #2: Jack Harkness has little to no willpower in the face of Rose Tyler's pout.

It hadn't been easy, far from it in fact. When they'd started, Jack had told her it would be nigh impossible.

But impossible is nothing when it comes to the Doctor and Rose.

Nothing.

Nothing except more time than Rose cares to document, more tears born of frustration and fear then she will ever admit.

The evening it finally works, she's not prepared. She's got no expectations of anything except failure because they don't seem to be any closer to a solution. She can't even place when it hits her that something is different, that something is working. One moment she's in Torchwood's Hub and the next...

Oh God.

It's the TARDIS.

It's the TARDIS.

It's the TARDIS.

And it's the Doctor, soaking wet wearing his long brown coat, standing at the console looking like he's lost his last friend. Rose's brow furrows and she takes a couple of steps toward him, pulling up short by something in his eyes that she can't place.

"Doctor?"

[ooc: I thought maybe just post The Waters of Mars? But I'm good with any canon point you like.]