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02 September 2011 @ 08:35 pm
Give to Receive Ficathon  

Give to Receive Ficathon - there's nothing more frustrating (in a ficathon) that wading through thousands of prompts only to discover hardly any are filled, amirite?? This ficathon (based on the wonderful DWP one hosted by [info]chainofclovers) aims to overcome that.  There's one simple difference:


That means posting anything at all - a drabble, an excerpt, that story idea you weren't sure what to do with, or maybe a story
that you missed the deadline for.  It can be 100 words or 10,000 - anything goes.  Once you've posted something you have
written, you can then make prompts for other people to fill.
  Even as the prompts coming rolling in, you can still post any
story you want at any time.  Or you can write something to fill the prompts.


Prompts - please leave the subject line blank. One prompt per comment. Format: Fandom, Character/Pairing, prompt, e.g.:

                  Devil Wears Prada, Miranda/Andy, bitter
                  Harry Potter, Harry/Hermione, canvas                       

Fills/stories - please fill the subject line as follows: Fandom, TITLE, Character/Pairing, Rating, (any warnings)


1. You have to post before you can prompt. If you ignore this, sorry, but your prompts will be deleted.
2. All fandoms and all pairings (including RPF) are permitted. No sex between minors though - that's the only restriction.
3. If your story is to long for a comment, complete the subject line and then provide a link in the body of the comment.
Make sure it is a link to a public entry.
4. No flaming, no hating, no bitching. Don't like something? Move past it.
5. Please put all questions in the questions thread provided.
6. PIMP! PIMP! PIMP! Ficathons work better when more people participate.
7. Ficathon open from now until 11.59pm BST, Tuesday 6th September.

Current Mood: busybusy
Lola: [damages] patty ellen dockdamelola on September 2nd, 2011 07:50 pm (UTC)
If anything isn't clear, please ask here :)
hear me roarmagisterequitum on September 2nd, 2011 09:01 pm (UTC)
Not a question but this is AWESOME!!!!
Lola: [tww] amy joshdamelola on September 2nd, 2011 07:59 pm (UTC)
TGW/TWW, our mother has been absent (ever since we founded rome), Will and Amy Gardner, G
*the beginning of a story in which Will and Amy Gardner are brother and sister*

Amy is six and a half when Mom takes her to the doctor's office. Amy isn't really very happy about the unplanned outing, because Stacy's parents have finally taken the cover off the pool and it's just about hot enough to swim for the first time all year.

Maybe she's sulking, just a little bit, and doesn't notice that this isn't Dr. Edelstein's office until they're all the way inside. The toys in the waiting room are boring, just blocks of wood, but Amy does as she's told and plays with them anyway. She's just knocking down her fifth (or sixth) wobbling tower when Mom comes back out to get her. Mom has that smile on her face that Amy likes really the best of all: the one Amy sees after her dance recital, or when Daddy brings home surprise gifts.

But Amy isn't going to see the doctor, which is fine by her, because she doesn't really like this boring place with wood on the walls. It's the doctor, not a treehouse. Mom is fixing Amy's seatbelt when she leans in to whisper. Whispers are the best thing of all, because that means a secret between Amy and Mom that nobody else ever gets to hear, ever.

You're going to have a little brother. Or sister Mom whispers, and her breath tickles against Amy's ear.

Amy doesn't think she'll like that, but Mom looks so happy. She'll tell her after dinner, not to go and get a new baby. And that will be that.


By the time Christmas comes around, Mom is really round, like she put a basketball in her tummy. Daddy is home more, not so many trips, which means not so many little gifts for Amy. She doesn’t mind though, she likes when they sit on the sofa together and read books more than she likes postcards or dolls from other states.

On Christmas Eve, Amy is so excited she can’t sit still. Finally it’s time for Mass, and it’s the only night she’s allowed to stay up so late. She likes the trips to Holy Name, though she doesn’t know all the words to the prayers and hymns yet.

They’re driving home in the snow (Amy can’t wait to go out and make snow angels tomorrow. She makes the best snow angels on the whole block, her Mom always says so) when Mom suddenly cries out like Amy does when she falls down and hurts herself. Daddy just smiles and takes Mom’s hand, like this is a good thing.

Instead of going home, Amy finds herself being left with a sleepy Aunt Sarah, who still has curlers in her hair. Mom and Daddy drive away, promising her the best Christmas present ever in the morning.

Amy really hopes it’ll be a pony.


If a baby brother is supposed to be a Christmas present, then Amy doesn’t like Christmas as much as she thought. Nobody explains anything to her, just talking about ‘surprises’ and ‘being a good girl’ until eventually Aunt Sarah drives her to the hospital.

The hospital is kind of scary, but there’s a nice nurse who actually tells Amy things, like how Mom had the baby at breakfast time, and that Mom is really tired now. She asks Amy if she’ll be picking a name for her little brother, and suddenly Amy wonders if this might be fun after all.

Daddy scoops her up in a big hug when the nurse brings Amy to him. It’s a really good hug too, the kind where Amy can snuggle into his neck and he swings her legs around like there’s a big breeze.

Mom is sleeping, but she opens her eyes at Amy’s happy squealing. She kisses Amy on the head, once Daddy puts her down, and whispers to her again.

You’ll always be our special girl, Amelia.

Well, Mom must really mean it, because she never uses Amy’s proper name unless Grandma is in town (Amy is named after Grandma, but she lives on a farm and doesn’t like Chicago) or Amy has done something really naughty.

And from that day forward, nothing is ever quite the same.
well well wellahkna on September 2nd, 2011 08:21 pm (UTC)
Re: TGW/TWW, our mother has been absent (ever since we founded rome), Will and Amy Gardner, G
Lola: [tv] castle beckett blindsdamelola on September 2nd, 2011 08:08 pm (UTC)
Castle, Castle/Beckett, what if Castle were the sniper's target?
lovely surprise: {Dana} BAMFgirlie_girl_23 on September 3rd, 2011 11:51 pm (UTC)
Castle, Falling Through The Ropes, Castle/Beckett, PG
If a boxer is knocked out of the ring through the ropes, he or she is given a 20 count to get back into the ring on their feet. They can't be assisted or it will be considered a knockout.


He sees the glint moments before she does. Her name tears from his lips, even as she shakes her head.



The gunshot echoes and people scatter, hitting the ground. He attempts to push her out of the way, but the bullet hits its mark and the world tilts on its axis.


No. It's a whisper as the blood covers her hands.


"Stay with me. Stay with me."





She can't look at anyone in the waiting room. Can't see the way Alexis and Martha are hunched over, clinging to each other as their whole world falls around them. And you can't charm your way out of a bullet. Can't see Ryan and Esposito finally allow their professional masks to slip. This is my partner, Ryan. And this is my other partner, Castle. Can't see the look of worry and pity she knows is on Lanie's face, even as she holds on to Esposito. Honey, just because you can't see what's going on doesn't mean everyone else doesn't see what's going on. Can't see the haunted look in her father's eyes, as he sits and watches her without really seeing. I had nightmares where it swallowed you whole.

None of them see. None of them realize what has happened. Because they all think that that bullet was meant for her, that Castle just jumped in front of her, took it for her.

But she knows the truth. The bullet was never meant for her.

It was always meant for Castle.


The surgery takes over six hours, and by the time Josh comes out, covered in blood, Kate feels like she's going insane. It was supposed to be her on that table, her with the bullet lodged in her chest, and Castle out here, being the strong one, keeping everyone together like he's always kept her together. Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration for Nikki Heat? Because you're tall.

Josh asks for Castle's family and everyone in the room moves forward except for her father. No one outside this immediate family ever needs to know about this. She takes one step before she stops herself. She is not his family and this is all her fault.

She hears the words, disjointed as they are to her ears, and allows it to finally register in her brain that he's still alive. Plucky sidekick always gets killed. He's her partner (Partner, then.) and partners aren't supposed to die, but a lot of things have been happening lately that aren't supposed to happen.

Everyone visibly relaxes at this pronouncement and soon Josh is leading Martha and Alexis to Castle's room. Ryan walks Jenny to her car, sending her home with a kiss and a promise that he'll be there as soon as he sees Castle for himself. Esposito and Lanie go for a coffee run, promising to be back quickly. She's left with only her father and she doesn't know what to say to him.

"Katie." He reaches out to her, but she can't do this, not today.

"You should go home, Dad. Everything's fine here, so…"

"No, it's not." Jim sighs and runs a hand over his face. "I asked him to stop you. I told him he was the only one who could. And now he's been shot…"

She can't handle this, can't hear this, so she shakes her head. "Go home, Daddy. Please."

He hugs her tight, even as she fights against the comfort, and kisses her forehead before he leaves. "I love you, Katie."

And when she's finally alone, she allows herself to cry.
Lola: [parks] leslie rooseveltdamelola on September 2nd, 2011 08:37 pm (UTC)
The Good Wife, Alicia/Kalinda (or Alicia/Peter), ways to apologise
hear me roar: CM --> JJmagisterequitum on September 2nd, 2011 09:02 pm (UTC)
Criminal Minds, JJ gen
This is for my FemGen prompt.

Secrets, secrets are no fun unless they’re shared with everyone.

This sing-song rhyme of children haunts her. It’s what she sees when she looks in the mirror in the morning, eyeing the distasteful dark circles that will need to be covered up - she never gets enough sleep. It follows her during the day, like a shadow that creeps along at her heels, silent steps that she cannot shake. It is with her when she eats, when she answers the phone, when she sits in on briefings at her new job with unfamiliar faces that she has no jokes or fond memories or feelings with, when she goes to bed at night after putting her son to bed and wrapping her arm around her husband.

It’s a hated thing, this nagging rhyme, and it refuses to leave, a most unwanted guest.
Lola: [fringe] peed gene pooldamelola on September 2nd, 2011 09:18 pm (UTC)
Re: Criminal Minds, JJ gen
Ooh, I'm massively behind on Criminal Minds, but since I'm spoiled as all hell I kind of know what this is about and *guh*. Nicely done, it really feels like someone's actual thought process.
Re: Criminal Minds, JJ gen - damelola on September 2nd, 2011 10:27 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Lola: [bway] 2ndary charactersdamelola on September 2nd, 2011 09:47 pm (UTC)

Edited at 2011-09-02 09:51 pm (UTC)
Lola: [dwp] miranda meeting jacqdamelola on September 2nd, 2011 10:25 pm (UTC)
Devil Wears Prada, Miranda/Andy, pole-dancing
Lola: [got] catelyndamelola on September 2nd, 2011 10:29 pm (UTC)
Game of Thrones, Ned/Catelyn, it's not so hard to be married.
well well wellahkna on September 3rd, 2011 02:51 am (UTC)
The West Wing, Friendship Bracelet, Amy Gardner/Liz Bartlet, PG
3607 words, located here
Lola: [damages] patty B&wdamelola on September 3rd, 2011 03:37 am (UTC)
Re: The West Wing, Friendship Bracelet, Amy Gardner/Liz Bartlet, PG
And now you get to prompt! Yay!
Lola: [damages] patty ellen at workdamelola on September 3rd, 2011 03:38 am (UTC)
Damages, Patty/Ellen, protection
well well wellahkna on September 3rd, 2011 04:21 am (UTC)
The West Wing, Toby/Andy, paper
senseless things: [OTP] joint checking // warmbonessoaked_in_stars on September 5th, 2011 11:34 pm (UTC)
The West Wing, Folded In This Scrap of Paper, Andy/Toby, g
When the justice of the peace took them aside to sign their marriage license, Toby stood just behind Andrea, and off to the side, letting his bride scrawl her name first. They were on the porch of her parents’ house on the Chesapeake, and a breeze picked up as she leaned over to sign the paper under the watchful eye of her sister and his brother.

The breeze sent a loose strand of hair sweeping across her face as she signed, and she pushed it back behind her ear before straightening up and turning to him. She held the pen out, smile just barely on her lips but so clear in his eyes that he absolutely had to kiss her before he turned to official business.


Andrea liked filling out forms, liked that feeling of thoroughness that came with making sure each and every box was filled out fully and properly. She had a small sheaf of papers eating away at her mind as she headed out of the office, handed back to her having been quadruple checked the day before by a longtime assistant just as diligent as she was.

Now, at home, a glass of Shiraz sitting on the large wood desk she and Toby shared in their one-step-up-from-cramped apartment, she saw an orange post-it stuck to the top of her papers, Toby’s round scribble in dark, dark pen.

Sign the papers, Andrea. We’ve got a campaign to run.

She did.


The divorce papers came from her lawyer on a Tuesday, and she immediately rejected the attorney’s suggestion that Andrea sign them there before they sent them – cold and official – to Toby’s lawyer. Human layers and manila envelopes between them, the opposite of how they ever wanted to behave.

The office wasn’t right either, so she caught him at home late that night, and handed him a whisky bottle along with the envelope that would dissolve their marriage.

He looked down at both items in his hands – so similar to the old days, when she’d show up late, more often than not with a bottle, and the darkness would protect their secret fears. But now, he simply stepped back to open the door a little wider and let her in. They would do this together.


He signed away his soul for the pretty white house, and as he was scrawling his name – dark strokes and slashes on so many pages of so many documents that he was starting to feel like Zorro – what came over him was peace rather than nervousness.

This was right. This was both unexpected and what she’d expected of him all along, what he’d never really realized. This would be where she’d finally say yes – maybe on the back porch, looking out at the yard she loved; or maybe upstairs, in the master bedroom with the window seat; she could sit there and he’d even maybe do the terrible one knee thing that he hadn’t ever done before, but maybe this would be it. He bought her a house, after all. This would be where their kids would grow up; the girl in the room with the sweet yellow walls, and the boy in the one across the hall that overlooked the street.

This would be where his family lived.


Toby knew Andy was ecstatic that the kids were there and safe and currently ensconced in bassinets across the room where a nurse tended to them with murmured words he couldn’t hear. And yet, every time she looked at him for more than a second, really looked, there was just a truly exhaustive sadness in her eyes. They’d hurt each other plenty of times before, but he knew that it was haunting her that this, arguably their biggest blowup, came within an hour of their children’s birth.

So he distracted and cajoled in his subtle, quiet way, anything to lift it from hanging between them for another single moment. When they came in with the birth certificate forms, Toby pulled his chair up next to Andy’s bed as they wheeled over a rolling table to spread the papers on. Names – yet another thing they’d argued about incessantly and hadn’t really come to a conclusion about, but he knew what would make her happy.

He curved a hand over her forearm, ignoring the pang in his chest when she twitched, but he squeezed her arm gently. “You know I hate to be the one to concede, but…he looks like a Huck to me,” he said quietly, eyes lifting to hers. It took an extra minute, but her lips finally curved into a smile.
well well wellahkna on September 3rd, 2011 04:46 am (UTC)
Rookie Blue, Dov/Gail, pizza and beer
Lola: [tww] cj close upsetdamelola on September 3rd, 2011 05:04 pm (UTC)
West Wing, CJ/Toby, AU - Goodnight and Good Luck
Tall drink: cjpretty--nextjulyciachick711 on September 5th, 2011 02:41 pm (UTC)
West Wing, CJ/Toby, Goodnight and Good Luck, Pt 1 - ciachick711 on September 6th, 2011 07:22 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: West Wing, CJ/Toby, Goodnight and Good Luck, Pt 2 - damelola on September 7th, 2011 01:58 am (UTC) (Expand)
Alexander's terrible, no good, very bad day: [the good wife] A + K: awkwardthreeguesses on September 3rd, 2011 07:08 pm (UTC)
The Good Wife, Look But Don't, Alicia/Kalinda, R
[From the AU where Alicia is the cheating State's Attorney. (She doesn't sleep with hookers, though; just Kalinda.) There's some blackmail and intrigue and Blake being a douche. I don't even know.]

It happens exactly once.

There aren’t any of the normal excuses. Alicia isn’t drunk, isn’t angry or sad or maudlin. She isn’t much of anything. She’s tired. They lost the case, a long line of sleepless nights for nothing, and she is just so fucking tired.

Kalinda has a clever mouth and neat, quick teeth. Her kisses are sharp and shallow, all lip and tug and almost no tongue. Alicia is stunned by the smell of her perfume, by how light she is to hold. When she tries to speak Kalinda nudges her chin to the side, licks at her ear. Says, “if we stop now it’ll be just as awkward as if we saw it through.”

So they don’t stop. They don’t slow down, don’t even take off their clothes. Kalinda presses Alicia back against the wall and fingers her, so slowly and thoroughly Alicia whines about it, arches her back. When she comes she bites at Kalinda’s palm.

Afterwards, they tidy themselves in silence, tug their skirts straight. Alicia smooths her hair, her blouse, searching for something to say. Kalinda smiles her inscrutable half-smile, its edges smudged and swollen from their kissing. Her eyes are mirrors and Alicia can’t read her expression.

It happens exactly once—

More than enough.

Edited at 2011-09-03 07:09 pm (UTC)
Lola: [tgw] alicia press confdamelola on September 3rd, 2011 07:44 pm (UTC)
Re: The Good Wife, Look But Don't, Alicia/Kalinda, R
Consider me officially in LOVE with this particular AU. Oh, Alicia.
Alexander's terrible, no good, very bad daythreeguesses on September 3rd, 2011 07:27 pm (UTC)
TGW/World War Z, [Untitled], Everyone/Everyone, PG
[From the one with the zombie apocalypse. I don't even know, you guys.]

It’s Kalinda who finally says it.

The news reports are getting more and more confused, noticeable gaps and things that don’t add up. Alicia’s been throwing herself into work (and there’s a lot of work nowadays; a lot of crime), keeping her head down. Congress is in session; the El is still running. Yesterday was Grace’s fourteenth birthday. Her friends took her out to dinner at a cheap Mexican chain, loud and colourful, slow service – somewhere that doesn’t mind when teenagers split appetizers. There are pictures of her in a giant foam sombrero.

Alicia flips through them on her phone. Looks at Grace’s flushed face and hunched shoulders, staid clothes. Looks at the girl on the left with the nose ring; the wide, laughing mouth. She hopes Grace and that girl are friends.

She thinks: it can’t be serious. The night janitor still comes in on time, there is laughter and fourteenth birthdays. She thinks: the restaurant wouldn’t still be using that stupid hat if—

Kalinda knocks on the doorframe.

And Alicia knows.

“It isn’t rabies,” Kalinda says.

“It’s a cover up,” Kalinda says.

And worst, worst of all: “I have a contact in the FBI.”

Alicia stops trying to rationalize then.

Outside the glass, Courtney is taking lunch orders from the other assistants. It’s a Tuesday. They’ll argue over sandwiches or salad, the redhead whose name Alicia can never remember advocating for pizza. Probably they’ll settle on sushi.


Their best bet is to go north, Kalinda is telling her. Like it’s normal, like it’s a case; here is the offshore bank account, the hole in her alibi. This is where they buried the body. North, where it’s cold, because that does something to—

Alicia shakes her head. (She’s been shaking it this whole time, like she could make it stop; stop hearing, stop it from being true.) “Kalinda, it’s the middle of summer.”

Kalinda lifts her chin. Says, “It won’t be when we get there.”

Alicia finally notices she’s saying ‘we’.

(Later, she’ll ask: “What made you think of me?”

They hadn’t been talking, weren’t friends. Alicia has never been camping in her life, can’t drive stick, can’t shoot a gun. Has kids. Alicia knows why she went – Grace’s picture blurring on her phone, Kalinda’s steady hands and eyes and insider knowledge. It was their best chance.

It wasn’t Kalinda’s.

When she asks, Kalinda’s face will smooth out into the blank stare Alicia remembers from personal conversations, questions that cut too close. I plead the fifth on the grounds that it may incriminate me.

“Needed someone to drive the RV.”)

Right now, though, Alicia doesn’t really care about Kalinda’s motivations. She walks out of work, abandons her three o’clock hearing in appeals court (they’ll manage, she isn’t the first; empty offices and abandoned chairs in the bullpen). She gets in her car. It takes her three tries to make it start.

Zack’s at a pool party. She interrupts, refusing Mrs. Such-and-such’s nervous offer of lemonade. Says that no, actually, Zach has to go right now. (She wonders how many other kids have been pulled out of swimming pools like this over the past few weeks, how many Mrs. Such-and-suches have been rebuffed.) There is a tiny boy with Grace’s childhood curls riding a blow-up dolphin. Alicia squints through the sun as he waves.

Zach is furious with her, sullen and silent the whole way home. She lectures him on autopilot about sunscreen, the flush across his shoulders. Halfway through the bit about skin cancer (well-worn now, the same every time: “your grandmother had it, it runs in the family, so don’t even think about—”), Alicia starts to cry. Zack – tucked away in the back, dripping onto his towel – doesn’t notice.

Grace is at home waiting for them, still in pyjamas. She gets up, surprised, when Alicia hustles Zack through the door. A popsicle drips down her arm.

Alicia corrals them like that, side by side on the couch and half-dressed. Zach shakes his wet head and Grace squeals, shoves at him with bare feet. They grow quiet and solemn when Alicia pulls up the ottoman. Takes their hands.

“It’s a divorce,” Grace says, and Alicia feels a moment of perverse relief in telling her no.
Lola: [tgw] kalicia phonedamelola on September 3rd, 2011 07:46 pm (UTC)
Re: TGW/World War Z, [Untitled], Everyone/Everyone, PG
This is already better than any zombie thing I've ever watched. And trust Kalinda to be in the loop. Wonderful.
Re: TGW/World War Z, [Untitled], Everyone/Everyone, PG - ahkna on September 6th, 2011 12:55 am (UTC) (Expand)