Happy Distracting Comment Fest

[sholio]

An old-fashioned LJ-style comment fest ... because I think we could all use one.

1. Any fandoms are welcome - original works too!

2. Prompt in a comment like this:
Fandom, character(s) or pairing, prompt

Examples:
MCU, Loki/Natasha, lies
Any, any, heartbreak
Original, a war unicorn and her rider, first day of training

3. Fills can be any length, from one sentence on up. You can also post them elsewhere and link here.

4. Non-fanfic fills are welcome (art, podfic, etc).

5. Put "FILL" in the subject line of your fills to make them easier to find. (Not required, but helpful.)

6. You can also comment on other people's prompts if you see one you want to encourage! But keep it positive, please.

Promote wherever you like, and leave as many prompts as you want! ♥

Comments

Mod contact thread

[sholio]

I have comment emails turned off on this post, so comment here if you need to contact me.

Re: Mod contact thread

[(Anonymous)]

Are there any restrictions for what ships or ratings are allowed?

[sholio]

Any, any, a very unusual steed

[FILL] Dragon Age: Inquistion | Male Trevelyan, Leliana

[artabria]

A/N: The giant nugs in Inquisition still scare me. But, hey, you said unusual steed and this is the first thing I thought of, so here's a drabble, XD

****

“I don't understand your objections, Inquisitor,” commented Leliana, confused at his refusal to even consider riding the new mount. “You wanted something that would represent the greatness of the Inquisition!”

Richard couldn't help but look in horror at what could only be described as a giant nug. He had always found the paws of the little creatures to be perturbing, seeing as they looked a bit like human hands. But this new creature? The paws looked human enough for him, and the poor thing looked ridiculous with those horns.

He couldn't understand why Leliana was so enamoured with it.

[sholio]

Any fandom, any sibling characters, payback is sweet

FILL: The Other Foot (Stand Still Stay Silent)

[ilthit]

CW: Spoilers, death mention, it's not actually happy but some of us deal with stuff via whump ok.

-

There's nothing out there to see.

"I know," said Onni. He tied the strings of his rucksack and lifted it on his back.

Only death. You should stay here where it's safe.

"Hrmh."

You're soooo reckless, I can't let you go anywhere, do I have to tie you down...

"All right, you made your point!" Onni snapped. "You can stop repeating my words back to me. You're right. I was right! But you know why I'm doing this."

The ghostly bird hovered silently. He sighed. "Lalli has good things in his life now. That's worth protecting."

And Onni did not.

[sholio]

Any, any, heist

[sholio]

Stranger Things, Steve & Robin, fake kissing to get the other one out of an embarrassing situation

FILL: A Kiss Is Just a Kiss

[vanillalime]

Keith’s party was lame, no doubt about it. Steve hadn’t wanted to come, but Robin had insisted. She thought they’d been hanging around the kids too much. She thought it would be good for them to talk about something other than cat-eating monsters, telekinetic powers, and secret Russian laboratories.

"Let’s just go to this stupid party and pretend that we’re stupid teenagers, okay? Can we do that? Just for one night?"

Robin’s words echoed inside his head. They seemed familiar, but he couldn’t remember where he’d heard them before.

The people here were nice enough, but, good god, were they boring. No one drinking, no one smoking. No one having illicit sex in somebody’s bedroom.

On the other hand, no one was getting sucked into an alternate dimension through a backyard swimming pool, either. Keith probably deserved some bonus points for that.

Before he knew it, Steve was stuck in the kitchen with a bunch of guys discussing strategies for some video game that he’d never even heard of. He glanced at his watch and saw that it wasn’t too late. If he left now, he could stop by Dustin’s house, and together they could watch Miami Vice.

He wandered into the living room, where a large cluster of girls were huddled together, giggling over… something. Robin sat in the middle of it all, looking like she wanted to die.

They made eye contact, and Steve didn’t need telekinetic powers to read her mind. He made his way over to her and the other girls.

"Hey, Robin, I have to leave. You want a ride?"

"Uh, yeah," answered Robin, quickly scrambling to her feet. "Thanks."

"Hold on," one of the girls instructed. "We have to finish our conversation first. Tell us, Robin, what was the best kiss you’ve ever had?"

Steve froze. Swallowing hard, he looked over at Robin, whose cheeks were turning an interesting shade of crimson. Even her freckles were dissolving.

Lie, thought Steve. Just lie.

But instead, Robin stood there, speechless, as that group of girls giggled around her. Steve had to make that insipid giggling stop.

He moved close to Robin and draped a protective arm around her shoulders. Then, slowly, he leaned in. His forehead touched hers, and he closed his eyes. His lips met her lips, and he was pleasantly surprised when she kissed back. He let the moment linger for a second or two, before gradually pulling away.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, then turned to face those girls again. Their giggles had suddenly fallen into a chasm of dropped jaws.

"Let me assure you, ladies," he declared with a confident grin, "that kiss was the best kiss any girl has ever had."

Then he spun around and began walking toward the door, with Robin by his side. A grateful hand slid into his, and he squeezed it.

[sholio]

Any, any, comforting with kittens or puppies

Gintama (Gintoki/Katsura), FILL

[rainsometimes]

"I guess you were right, Gin-san," said Shinpachi, smiling as he saw the frowns on Katsura's forehead smooth away and his face softening into a silly look of complete adoration. All his mutterings about being on stand-by for too long and worries about Kyubei usurping his place in the show had ceased entirely in favour of cooing over the three puppies and two kittens he'd managed to scoop up within seconds of stepping into this cafe where you could play with the animals for a fee.

Gin-san leaned on the wall with his arms crossed, grinning. "'Course I was," he said. "This idiot is just too simple. He doesn't need booze or sugar or Jump comics when he's down, you just cover him in creatures with paws and he's happy. So we won't have to listen to him moan about his dumb standby thing anymore today."

"I have to ask, though, Gin-san... Since it works so well, why don't you do this more often?"

"Huh? Nah, you can't spoil him like that. That's rewarding bad behaviour. And I'm not made out of money!"

"We have a 300-kg strong dog at Odd Jobs, too," Shinpachi pointed out, "and he's for free."

Gin-san looked sulky. "I'm not handing over Sadaharu to him! He's our dog! If I start doing that, he'll come by every day and keep bothering the poor mutt!"

"Gintoki!" Katsura shouted from over where he was sitting. He held up a small white puppy with a lopsided ear. "Doesn't this one remind you of you? Look at his stupid expression!! Aww, look, now he's yawning!" He rubbed the dog's stomach, beaming happily.

"Yeah, see how he is?" said Gin-san, turned to Shinpachi. "Not a grateful bone in his body, that jerk." But there was an unusually soft smile tugging at his mouth. "Best just to keep it an occasional treat."

Shinpachi looked over at the still happily cooing terrorist, then back to Gin-san's now even more obviously fond expression, and the light blush on his cheeks. Maybe this wasn't just a treat for Katsura-san, he thought privately.

[ellenmillion]

Any, any, cooking comfort food

[ellenmillion]

SG-1, any, a board game

[archersangel]

You'd expect that Daniel would be the one with an interest in board games, or even Mitchell, but it was Teal'c who had amassed a a rather sizable collection over the years.

Games from all over the world, with all sorts of themes.

Except for Risk and other games dealing with conquest, it seemed kind of crass to Teal'c to include them.

[goss]

The Untamed, Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji, paper

FILLED

[bemused_writer]

I've filled this prompt over here! It's rated G and is pretty fluffy. ^^

[st_aurafina]

Person of Interest, any, going undercover as a couple (it's a classic for a reason!)

[st_aurafina]

Person of Interest, any, unexpected makeovers

Fill: glass slipping through fingertips

[(Anonymous)]

"Look," Grace said as she carefully set her sketch pad aside and looked at the woman posed in front of her. She was lovely, with sharp features, and a grace in her movements. Very sophisticated, with perfectly coiffed hair (dark-brown, matching her eyes). "I'm not entirely sure why you've come to me, I'm not--"

"Grace," reaching out, Ms. Groves smiled at her. A flash of perfect teeth. "I trust you. I want to look--not innocent, but not... I'm not sure how to soften, this. And I've seen your work--you have such a good balance between states. You'll be fine."

When she gestured at herself, Grace had a momentary flash of the difference between kittens and jungle cats.

Ms. Groves was a jungle cat, a predator at rest, but still wary and looking for prey. She wouldn't make an easy kitten. Grace narrowed her eyes, considering. Softer colors, less bold cuts, maybe hair pulled back in a pony-tail. It wouldn't be childish, and it wouldn't really work to cover over the predator enough.

But it might be a start. Resolutely, she turned back to her sketch pad and charcoals. Quick, swift movements, softening the lines as she went, she sketched out the changes Sam Groves had asked for. Something about an upcoming change in her life she wanted to embrace.

[goss]

The Untamed, Jiang Cheng, puppy!

The Untamed, Jiang Cheng, puppy! - FILL

[saltedpin]

“Jin Ling!!”

Jiang Cheng stared at the sodden mass on the rug. The sodden mass stared back, its tongue lolling happily from its mouth.

He eyeballed the creature with distaste, to no obvious effect. It simply continued to pant, eyes bright, tongue pink, dripping mud and filthy water onto the delicate rugs and pale wood of the floor of the main hall.

“JIN LING!!!”

“I’m coming, Uncle Jiang, ugh, what do you –”

Jiang Cheng turned in time to see his nephew’s mouth drop open even as his words dried up, his face turning white as he surveyed the muddy footprints leading up from the lotus ponds, through the garden, up the steps, and into the hall, before his eyes finally came to rest upon the author of the travesty itself.

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth. “Would you care to explain?”

His idiot nephew began stammering out some kind of excuse – but quite frankly Jiang Cheng wasn’t really listening, given that it was bound to be garbage.

“I don’t care.” Jiang Cheng cut off whatever Jin Ling was saying with a curt wave of his hand. “Just get this mess cleaned up, immediately.”

“I-I’ll call for a servant –”

“No.” Looking up, Jiang Cheng pinned Jin Ling with a particularly cold stare. “You are going to clean this up. Personally. Go and get a cloth and some water. I will supervise.”

“But – Uncle – !”

“No ifs, no buts. If this dog is yours, then it’s your responsibility. Now, go.”

Jin Ling stared at him, mouth opening and closing in mute outrage – and then, pouting and tossing his head, he whirled about and flounced his way down the steps, sleeves swishing in his wake. Jiang Cheng heard something that sounded like Uncle Jin would never make me do such a thing! float back to him on the gentle breeze.

Jaw tightening, Jiang Cheng turned back to the disaster at his feet.

Who on earth had decided that it was a good idea to give Jin Ling a dog?

He squatted down before it, conscious of the mud that would surely get all over his clothing, and stared it in the eye. Clearly, if Jin Ling wasn’t going to imbue it with any respect for authority, then someone else would have to do it.

“I am the head of the Jiang Clan. My word here is law.”

The dog responded to Jiang Cheng’s entirely reasonable decree with a slobbery lick to his hand, before rolling over onto its back and proceeding to do its damnedest to ingrain every last possible speck of dirt into the rug. Its bells jangled as it writhed in paroxysms of filthy ecstasy.

“Stop it. Stand up. Have some dignity.”

The dog rolled over and peered at him from above its muddy paws, cocking its head at him.

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched. “You are not cute, you know.”

The dog seemed to doubt that very much, if the way that it blinked its big eyes at him was any indication.

“Perhaps you will be presentable once you’re slightly cleaner.”

He could feel his fingers twitching, as if possessed by some malevolent force; without his full conscious will, he found himself dabbing at the dog’s grubby ears with the edge of his sleeve, resigned, now, to the fact that his clothing was ruined. At least this way maybe the rug could be saved from further indignities, his clothing an acceptable sacrifice for the greater good.

The dog leaned into the pats – into the attempt to clean it – and its back leg kicked furiously. A soft aroo-oo escaped from its mouth. It was, to all appearances, deliriously happy.

Jiang Cheng was not deliriously happy. He was not trying to make the dog feel any better about this stupid situation. He most certainly was not cooing Who’s a good boy? Is it you? Is it you? I think it might be you! Yes, it’s you! You’re a good boy! What a good boy! like some kind of ass, and he definitely wasn’t letting it put its grubby paws up on his knees so that it could lick his face.

“You didn’t make this mess, did you? No, you didn’t. Not a good boy like y–”

“U-Uncle Jiang?”

Jiang Cheng suddenly found himself upright, the sodden creature at his feet continuing to wriggle about in a stupor of joy, getting mud and fine white hairs all over the hem of his robes.

Jin Ling stood in the doorway, a bucket of steaming water in his hands, a towel draped over his arm. If he’d been told Zewu-Jun was getting out of cultivation in order to start up his own combination brothel-slash-brewery, his expression probably wouldn’t be much different to the one plastered across his face right now.

Jiang Cheng cleared his throat.

“I was checking for permanent damage.”

Jin Ling said nothing.

“Are you going to stand there gawping, or are you going to clean?”

“Yes, Uncle Jiang.” Jin Ling dropped his eyes, but his incredulity was still written plain across his face.

Head held high, Jiang Cheng began to stride from the room, when a thought occurred to him, and he stopped.

“I will keep the filthy creature with me while you clean. So it doesn’t cause any further damage.”

“Yes, Uncle Jiang.”

“Good.”

Without a further word, he turned and swept from the room, the dog trotting faithfully at his heels.

Jiang Cheng looked down at it.

Who’s a good boy, then?

[st_aurafina]

Person of Interest, any, Ice-skating date

FILL: On her feet

[sheenianni]

So she’s been working overtime and then some. Big deal. The numbers never stopped coming, especially with everything that’s happened, and so maybe she was a bit on edge, but that didn’t mean she needed a break. Especially not a literal one such as breaking her leg or her wrist.

“Ice-skating. Really.”

“You’re gonna love it, sweetie,” said Root’s voice through the ear piece.

“Falling on my ass all day? I seriously doubt that,” Shaw rolled her eyes.

“Trust me, Sameen. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Twenty minutes later, she was shakily standing on the ice on the borrowed skates, and contemplated whether she dared let go of the railing.

“Come on, babe, you’re not afraid, are you?”

“Would you stop doing that?” Shaw snapped. “Just… stop.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry, Sameen. If you’re sure, I can leave you alone–”

“It’s not that.” Shaw hesitated. “You sound like her. Not just voice, everything.”

The Machine paused. “If it’s distressing you, I can always switch to a different person–”

“Don’t you dare,” Shaw snapped before she could stop herself. She took a deep breath. “Look, just don’t call me babe or any of that other crap, okay?”

“Of course.”

This skating thing, it was different from investigating a number. That was work, and if hearing Root’s voice made her feel things, Shaw was CIA trained professional. This was personal.

Root should have been here to teach her. They should’ve had the chance to do this together, she thought with a pang of anger and raw pain.

Curse Root. Shaw had been a perfectly functioning non-feeling sociopath before that she did this to her. And then Root got shot and fucking died.

Shaw looked at the ice. This was going to hurt like a bitch, she thought. And yet…

“All right. Tell me what to do.”

She focused on her feet as Machine started giving her the instructions. After a few moments, she took her first hesitant steps.

Somewhere in the corner of her mind, she saw Root smiling.

--------------
Thanks so much to sholio for doing this, great idea :)

[st_aurafina]

Person of Interest, any, lost somewhere on the backroads

FILL: The GPS Blues

[ramblin_rosie]

A/N: Gapfiller for 2.02 "Bad Code." Based on a true story.

John didn't know whether the GPS of the rental car was on the fritz or whether the Machine was sending them to Bishop, Texas, the long way to satisfy the code that blocked it from helping Finch directly. He definitely didn't understand why the only flight he'd been able to get was to Houston when the Machine knew perfectly well that the article about Hannah Frey's disappearance had been in the Corpus Christi paper. Whatever the case was, there had to be a more sensible route from Houston to Bishop than the way the GPS was directing them, down back roads through rice fields rather than along the main highways. Even major construction work shouldn't have prompted this kind of detour.

At least East Texas was green. If they'd had to start from El Paso or Odessa, John didn't know if he'd have been able to stand the barrenness of the scenery.

"Do you even know where we're going?" Carter asked sharply.

"Would you rather drive?" John returned.

She huffed.

A few miles later, a town came into view. John's heart leapt... but his hopes were quickly dashed when the city limits sign became legible.

"We're in Egypt!" Carter yelped as they passed it.

John wrestled down the aggravated growl that he wanted to direct toward the Machine. Instead, he managed to note mildly, "Cairo sure has changed since the last time I was here."

Carter smacked his arm--but then laughed, and the tension in the car eased.

---
A/N: There really is a blink-and-you'll-miss-it town called Egypt in Wharton County.

[goss]

Guardian RPS, Zhu Yilong, magic

[goss]

Guardian, Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, accident

[st_aurafina]

Person of Interest, Grace &/any, draw me like one of your French girls

[st_aurafina]

Person of Interest, any, too many cooks in the kitchen

FILL (untitled)

[argylepiratewd]

On a great number of occasions, Harold has come to regret the vast majority of the decisions he's made in his life. This, however, should not be one of them. A nice, casual meal between friends. It certainly seemed like a good idea when he made the proposal. They could all use a bit of levity in their lives. And yet...

"This is why I never bother with cooking," he tells Bear, as the level of noise in the kitchen rises. Something smells like it's burning, Fusco and Shaw are yelling yet again, Root has a positively terrifying scowl on her face as she mashes potatoes with far more force than necessary, and John—oh, poor John's spirit seems to have been crushed at some point between the migraine-inducing grocery shopping debacle and this. "It is an exaggerated example of my reasoning, I admit, but even in less...contentious situations, the reward of good food is not worth the effort—though I suspect you disagree, don't you?"

Bear lets out an impatient whine. No, he's not a good conversationalist at all, is he? Harold heaves a sigh. "You don't care one bit, do you?" He unhooks Bear's leash, and Bear takes off, kitchen-bound. Harold huffs. "Of course. All that matters to you is the ribeye." Ribeyes that will probably be burnt beyond all recognition soon, but, well. They should still make good kibble, Harold supposes.

As Bear scampers past, John glances in Harold's direction, a look of pure defeat in his eyes. Such a shame—the only competent cook in their little group practically exiled from the kitchen. In a more sensible world, John would be leading their efforts, instead of—no. No, in a more sensible world, Harold would have known better, and would have asked John to prepare the meal in advance, thus skipping this whole unfortunate mess.

Perhaps it would be best if Harold offered him an escape route. He silently mouths, Take out? just as the first dollop of potato goes flying toward Fusco, landing with a messy splat in Shaw's hair instead. Harold cringes. Oh, dear. That...is not going to end well. He decides that a much better suggestion for John is to, Run.

John seems to agree.

[st_aurafina]

Person of Interest, any, forced to host a children's party

FILL: The Perils of Suburbia

[ramblin_rosie]

A/N: Gapfiller for 2.06 "The High Road." Surely Graham's hearings took more than two days....

With Graham Wyler's life saved and his former crew safely in police custody awaiting trial, John and Zoe were just discussing how much longer to stay in "their" house in Far Rockaway when there was a knock at the door. John's hand automatically went to his sidearm, but a look from Zoe stopped him from actually drawing it. They answered the door to discover a mother and a girl who looked to be about six standing on the doorstep.

"Hi, Mr. an' Mrs. Campbell!" the girl began with a bright smile and an air of having practiced a speech. "May I use your back yard for my birfday party?"

John and Zoe looked at each other in bewilderment. "Uh," said Zoe.

"We live three doors down," the mother explained, "but we have a pool, and one of the other moms is... a little paranoid about the risk of drowning. It's a long story. So I said we'd see if we could find another venue."

"Well... um." Zoe looked at John again, as if he had any experience in such matters.

"We've already bought all the decorations and everything," the mother continued, sounding a little desperate. "I mean, if you want to help out with, like, grilling and stuff and maybe arrange some kind of entertainment, that'd be great, but... you don't have to."

"We... might be out of town on business this weekend," said John, half hoping for another number to come up and give him an excuse for saying no.

"It's next weekend!" the girl chimed in. "I promise we won't mess up your house or be mean to your dog! Pleeeeease?"

John's resolve wavered. "Well...."

"We can pay in Girl Scout cookies," the mother pleaded.

John and Zoe looked at each other again and sighed in defeat.

---

"You want me to what?!" Fusco exploded quietly. They were in the break room at the Eighth, so they had to keep their voices down... or at least John and Fusco did. Carter hadn't stopped laughing since John first mentioned the party.

"Help me come up with some kind of entertainment," John repeated. "Finch didn't have a clue, and it's not like I can ask Leon. Surely you went through this kind of thing with Lee."

"My ex went through it with Lee. When he turned six, I was tied up on a homicide and hadn't slept for thirty-six hours. I think that's one reason she ditched me."

Both men looked at Carter for help, but she shook her head. "Oh, no. I'm not bailin' you out of this one. Either of you."

Fusco's mouth flattened into an irritated line. "What do you want me to do, show up as Koko the Clown?"

John shrugged his eyebrows. "It'd suit you, Lionel."

Carter laughed even harder.

Fusco heaved an aggravated sigh. "Look, you're s'posed to be some kinda home security salesman, right? How 'bout I have a word with McGruff the Crime Dog?"

Carter pointed to him and nodded. "Now, that sounds like a good idea."

John looked at them both warily. "Are you sure? Bringing in an outsider...."

Carter waved off his objection. "Far Rockaway's got their own McGruff. They're not exactly on the lookout for 'the Man in the Suit.'"

"Especially not one who's married to a hot broad like Zoe Morgan," Fusco teased.

John rolled his eyes and resigned himself to not having backup.

---

And so it was that the following weekend, John found himself grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for a backyard full of squealing six-year-olds while Zoe mingled with the moms and McGruff escaped into the house to cool off out of sight of the party. Far Rockaway's McGruff, it turned out, was the father of one of the girls who'd been invited to the party, as well as an old friend of Fusco's, and he'd been more than happy to come tell the kids how to "take a bite out of crime" with Bear as an enthusiastic sidekick. But now he'd finished his spiel and was about to be finished off by the heat building up in the furry costume, so John turned the grill over to one of the other dads and followed McGruff inside to get both of them something colder to drink than the kids' punch, in which the lime sherbet had completely melted about an hour earlier.

In the safety of the living room, McGruff pulled off his head and gloves with a sigh of relief and accepted the cold pop John handed him. "Thanks for doing this, Mr. Campbell," he said. "I've been wanting a chance to speak to the kids, but the elementary school has a new principal who hates cops. It's hard enough to get in the door as myself, never mind as McGruff."

"Thought Far Rockaway didn't have much crime," John noted and took a drink of his own pop.

McGruff shook his head. "Even the sleepiest suburbs have their share of dark secrets. Might not make it to the police blotter, but it's out there. And there's a lot I don't know in a sense that would stand up in court, but I still know there's something going on, y'know?"

John did know and had an uncomfortable sense that there might be a reason the Machine hadn't told Finch to shut things down out here and bring John and Zoe back to the city quite yet.

The two men had just finished their pop when there was a knock at the front door, followed by Fusco letting himself in. "Hey," he said.

"Lionel!" John replied. "What brings you out here?"

Fusco shrugged. "I heard there were Girl Scout cookies."

John laughed. "This way." He motioned for Fusco to follow him and held his smile until they were in the kitchen. Then he murmured, "Why are you really here?"

Fusco's own smile faded. "Got a call from our mutual friend." He pulled out his phone and showed John a picture of the birthday girl's best friend. "Said he called me 'cause he thought you might need backup."

"Dammit." There was only one reason Finch would have sent Fusco that picture: the girl was a number, and that meant she was in danger.

Before he could ask for more details, though, Zoe came in with the girl in question, who was holding Zoe's hand and biting her lip anxiously. "It's okay," Zoe said softly, closing the door behind them. "You're safe here."

Fusco swiftly put his phone away as John went over to the new arrivals. "What's the trouble?" John prompted at the same volume.

"Can I talk to Mr. McGruff, please?" the girl asked in a barely audible whisper.

"Sure," said John. "I'll go get him, if you'll wait here a minute."

The girl glanced nervously at Fusco. "Can I come with you?"

"It'll only take a second," John promised. "This is Det. Fusco; he's a friend of McGruff's."

Joining them, Fusco crouched down to meet the girl's eyes and smiled. "Hi, sweetheart. What's your name?"

"Amy Sullivan," Amy replied but clung more tightly to Zoe's hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Amy. How old are you?"

"I'm six."

"Yeah? My son, he just turned ten."

Amy thawed a little under Fusco's gentle interrogation, and John stepped away and poked his head back into the living room. McGruff, having evidently heard at least a child's voice, already had his gloves back on; he nodded once to John and put his head on.

John turned back to the group by the kitchen door. "He's in the living room," he reported. "Wanna go in there to talk to him?"

Amy nodded, and as Fusco stood, Zoe escorted her through the kitchen and into the living room, where McGruff was waiting.

"McGruff, this is Amy," Zoe began. "She says there's something important she needs to talk to you about."

"Hello, Amy," said McGruff. "What can I do for you?"

"I saw something I wasn't s'posed to," Amy whispered. "My stepdad said he'd kill me if I told the police or anyone at school, but... but he didn't say I couldn't tell you."

On a sudden hunch, John backed away to the kitchen door while McGruff sat down on the couch to get Amy's whispered story. John turned just as his fear was realized and a masked, black-clad man jumped over the back fence. All the kids and most of the moms screamed.

John wrenched open the back door and barked, "Bear! Aanvallen!"

Bear, who had a pink balloon tied to his collar and had been merrily playing Tag with a smaller group of the kids, spun on a dime and leapt on the intruder with an open-mouthed snarl. The impact sent the intruder to the ground and forced him to drop his gun. John was on his way to subdue him when a second intruder came over the fence, so John had to leave the first to Bear and take down the second himself. Then a third man came over the fence, and John saw why Finch had sent Fusco. A fight ensued, during which the moms got the kids safely inside, but men and dog managed to render the hit squad harmless without a shot being fired by either side.

"Who the hell sends a hit squad after a six-year-old?" Fusco asked, tightening the cuffs on his prisoner.

John had knocked his man out, so he stripped the mask off and recognized the man's facial tattoos immediately. "MS-13," he reported. "Amy must have witnessed a gang deal of some kind."

Just then, backup from Far Rockaway PD arrived, and John called Bear off the first intruder, who'd been spewing Spanish profanities without regard to children's ears. As the police left, so did the partygoers, although the birthday girl's mom promised to come back later to help clean up.

"Is Amy safe?" John asked Zoe and McGruff as he came back into the house.

Zoe nodded as McGruff pulled off his costume head again. "She's staying with her dad this weekend," McGruff stated, "and we've got a good case for making it permanent, considering that her stepdad's been dealing drugs. We're lucky those thugs didn't settle for a drive-by. With Amy's testimony, though, we should be able to put them, her stepdad, and some other names on the Most Wanted list away for a good long time."

John nodded. "Appreciate your help."

"Hey, no problem. That's what I'm here for." McGruff shook hands all around, gave Bear a farewell pat, and left.

Zoe took a deep breath and let it out again. "Well! Never a dull moment around this place." She turned to Fusco. "Wanna help us finish off the birthday cake?"

"No thanks," said Fusco. "I think I'll head back to The Bronx, where it's safer."

John snorted and handed him a box of Thin Mints, which he accepted with a chuckle and left.

"Think I should add this to my list of reasons for the divorce," Zoe snarked as the front door closed.

John laughed and got out the Scotch.

[rainsometimes]

[Hullo! Got here via naye's link.]

Gintama, any, flowers in the dirt

FILL: Mmmmm . . .

[(Anonymous)]

Katsura Kotarou lay supine on the ground, black hair fanned over the gravel, robe in disarray, revealing one sharp collarbone. Wrists slack in unconsciousness.

Okita the Sadist took his time, placing each knee snugged in the hollow above Katsura's hipbones, and smiled down, thinking, Mmmmm . . . kiss or kill?

[sheenianni]

The Old Kingdom/Abbhorsen series, any, any

[sheenianni]

The Old Kingdom/Abbhorsen series, Lirael&Ferin, commiserating over their injuries and/or becoming part of the Abbhorsen family

[cornerofmadness]

(cool, thanks for doing this)

Prodigal Son, any, a relaxing day off

[cornerofmadness]

Buffyverse, any, chocolate and caramel

[snickfic]

Any, any, a dude is pregnant.

FILL (White Collar)

[sheenianni]

He had planned to stay, thought Neal numbly.

Despite the risks, despite the danger posed by the Pink Panthers - they promised him his freedom at last, and so he had honestly decided to stay at last. And he looked forward to having a home, to keeping this newfound, unlikely family of crooks and FBI agents; to maybe having a relationship with Peter where the tracking anklet wasn't always hanging there in the back of their minds. Because of all that, he had fully thrown himself to the sting, committed to the con like never before, gave his everything and then some, even rekindled that something with Keller, just to make sure everything went smoothly.

The story of his life.

Well, that was that, he told himself as he threw the pregnancy test in the thrash. Even if he didn't want to keep it - and he felt honestly too queesy and shaken to contemplate any of that now - the US laws still pretended that male pregnancies didn't happen and he had little chance to get quality prenatal care, or even an abortion.

He consciously gave himself an hour to break down and mourn before he started planning his getaway - not more, he was on a clock now. As reckless as he was, Neal was also a master of thinking on his feet and keeping a cool head under pressure. He'd have to make arrangements and do it quietly, without any of his usual contacts, even Moz.

Whatever he decided, there was no way he was letting Peter know that he was pregnant with Keller's kid.

[snickfic]

Oasis RPF, any ship or gen, a really weird gig.