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Prompt call (DW edition!) - now closed to new prompts!
Since the DW/LJ people get left out of the Tumblr prompt calls, here's one just for you. :) Leave me a character(s), relationship, or pairing and a prompt in a comment. As Tumblr people can attest, I'm not always that reliable about filling prompts and it can take me F O R E V E R, so don't feel bad if I don't write yours; it's not personal.
Anyway, I will try to write at least 100 words for each prompt I get. Prompts for missing scenes, future scenes, or AUs of any of my existing stories are also welcome, if there's anything you want to see more of!
Fandoms:
Agent Carter - Any combination of the Peggy-Jack-Daniel triad (gen or ship), or gen with any characters.
Stranger Things - The Steve-Nancy-Jonathan triad (OT3 or canon pairings); can include other characters too, but it's mostly these three I want to write about.
CJ Cherryh's books - The Heavy Time/Hellburner duology, or any of the books in my Cherryh tag (the nighthorse books, the Chanur books, Merchanter's Luck, etc)
MCU*: Tentatively adding this one. I haven't seen Spider-Man or Black Panther yet, but I'm up to date on the rest of the movies. Canon pairings or gen only.
Original*: Tentatively adding this one too. Prompts for any of the original worlds I write in, or just general fiction prompts.
*I reserve the right to reject any prompts for these that don't spark a story idea. Well, I guess that's generally true, but it's more likely to happen with the last two.
I'll close the prompt call when I feel like I have enough prompts to keep me busy for awhile!
Now closed to prompts!
Anyway, I will try to write at least 100 words for each prompt I get. Prompts for missing scenes, future scenes, or AUs of any of my existing stories are also welcome, if there's anything you want to see more of!
Fandoms:
Agent Carter - Any combination of the Peggy-Jack-Daniel triad (gen or ship), or gen with any characters.
Stranger Things - The Steve-Nancy-Jonathan triad (OT3 or canon pairings); can include other characters too, but it's mostly these three I want to write about.
CJ Cherryh's books - The Heavy Time/Hellburner duology, or any of the books in my Cherryh tag (the nighthorse books, the Chanur books, Merchanter's Luck, etc)
MCU*: Tentatively adding this one. I haven't seen Spider-Man or Black Panther yet, but I'm up to date on the rest of the movies. Canon pairings or gen only.
Original*: Tentatively adding this one too. Prompts for any of the original worlds I write in, or just general fiction prompts.
*I reserve the right to reject any prompts for these that don't spark a story idea. Well, I guess that's generally true, but it's more likely to happen with the last two.
I'll close the prompt call when I feel like I have enough prompts to keep me busy for awhile!
Now closed to prompts!
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---
It was green in the long rolling meadows on the lower slopes of Rogers Peak - so green it hurt the eye. There was some part of Danny that felt as if, in this one endless winter, he'd forgotten what green was like, what warm was like.
Endless green and {nighthorses} and {female horses} and {very frisky colt} ...
Danny glanced around to see how Jennie, and more importantly Rain, were dealing with it. Jennie was looking around, wide-eyed, clinging to a double handful of Rain's mane. She'd only fallen off three or four times today, a pretty decent record.
Back at Evergreen, she'd gotten to be a fairly good rider by spring -- well, not just her, Danny knew; it was also that Rain had begun to get the hang of keeping someone on his back. But the wild with all its temptations had driven Rain half mad in the two days since Danny and Jennie began their slow descent down the mountain. The older riders had been better able to keep him in line, but he wasn't of a mind to pay attention to either Danny or Cloud; even reminding him to be careful of the young rider on his back only got them so far.
Ridley and Callie had ridden with them as far as Tarmin, escorting a party from Evergreen. Goings back and forth between Evergreen and the growing settlement at Tarmin had become commonplace this spring, and it wasn't Jennie's first time riding that far. But Rain's restlessness, and Shimmer's growing aggressiveness towards her older colt, had made it clear that they had delayed as long as they could Rain's instinctive urge to wander in search of the wild herds.
So Danny went with her, keeping a promise; Ridley or Callie, or both, would come down later, when they could be spared, and Danny would ride on to Anveney, where Carlo was.
In the meantime it was Danny and Jennie, Cloud and Rain, riding at no great speed through hills that visibly changed from spring to summer as they got lower on the mountain. Cloud didn't see the point of staying with Rain; he considered both Rain and Jennie slow and stupid, and Danny's attempt to explain {young horse}, {young human} hadn't made much headway with a horse who was still very young himself.
But Cloud didn't press the issue, as he might have if he'd had somewhere he really wanted to be. He wanted to find {more horses}, but he also just wanted {warm} and {full belly} and {riding with Danny}. It hadn't been just the two of them all winter, and it still wasn't, but it was the closest they'd had since last year, when they used to roam the hills around Shamesey town together.
And now there were nighthorses just over that hill; there was {valley} and {water} and {strange herd}.
And Rain bolted. Danny sensed it before Jennie did, because despite all the bruising tumbles she'd taken from the hard-to-control colt as they'd ridden through the hills, she was still terribly young and inexperienced. Rain was off before Jennie could brace herself, and she went over the colt's hindquarters.
When Danny reached her, she was already picking herself up and rubbing her head. "He didn't mean to," she said quietly, and he stopped himself from the urge to give her a hand back to her feet. She wasn't just a little girl; he had to keep reminding himself of that. She was a rider. No one had given him a hand up when he'd fallen off Cloud, and his hurt pride wouldn't have wanted it. So he stood back and let her get up on her own.
"I know," he told her. "Rain would be sorry if he knew."
She nodded, and they both looked around. Cloud was nowhere near, either, both of the young horses bolting across the hills. Danny was of a mind to call Cloud back; there was no telling how the wild horses would react to two strange males in their territory. But this was nighthorse business, not human business, and his {careful} and {strange horses danger} rolled off Cloud's unreceptive mind. There was excitement and delight in the ambient, not just from their own two nighthorses but from the rest of the waking-up spring-shading-summer world as well. Even the presence of two predators like the nighthorses hadn't damped it down much, because they weren't hunting and the small creatures of the ambient knew it.
Jennie was laughing with it, the sheer infectious joy around them, and Danny found himself laughing with her. There wasn't danger or aggressiveness in the ambient, not right now, not from the herd and not from anything else; at most the herd might snub the newcomers, and Cloud and Rain would chase them for awhile before they ran themselves out and decided to come back. Which might take awhile.
"I guess we're going to be staying a little while," he told Jennie. "Want to help me make camp?"
She grinned a gap-toothed grin, a little girl again, just for that moment.
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In most books you root for characters to find love or acceptance or peace of mind. In Cherryh books you root for them get a good night's sleep out of the cold, just once.
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Haha, right?? Or maybe just have ONE mostly-okay day in which nothing horribly traumatizing happens to them.
(not ALL of these obvs, just any, or any that might be inspired by these)
I also love 'Angie comes along to L.A.' ideas -- she wants to be an actress! She's not succeeding in NYC! She apparently lived in Howard's house with Peggy, why not the L.A. place too? (Yeah, I would love to see Angie also getting involved in spy work through her acting somehow, like with the Gam-Gam scene which is one of my favourites in the whole series.)
Anything about Peggy and Michael as kids or young adults. IIRC he was the one who believed in her and encouraged her to take the job, right? and not settle down and be married? (And maybe taught her to box!) I'm kinda not that interested in the possible Winter Soldier 2.0 plotline they were maybe going with tho (WTF, TV MCU).
Peggy at Bletchley!
Anything about Nebula and Gamora when they were kids, too. (My sense is Nebula came later -- she has Jealous Kid Sister written all over her.)
Re: (not ALL of these obvs, just any, or any that might be inspired by these)
Re: (not ALL of these obvs, just any, or any that might be inspired by these)
(That seemed TAILOR MADE ((lol)) for bringing Ana and Peggy together more, and they just kinda....dropped it? A loose thread. -- OK I'll stop now, heh.) (Ana and Howard too, if she's designing around his gadgets some.)
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---
It was such a strange employment interview, she thought afterwards, though to be sure, she was not entirely sure what was normal, not having worked in an office before. Upon answering the advertisement -- The War Office typing pool needs young ladies, aged 18-25, must be unmarried and able to furnish references upon request. A background check will be required -- she had found herself in a large room with a number of other young women, looking at each other with nervous giggles as they found desks and sharpened pencils waiting for them.
There were the usual things, or what Peggy supposed were the usual things. She was only so-so at typing and taking dictation, and hoped it didn't count against her too much, though she was pleased to see she'd remembered her studies despite having found them tedious. They had her do sums, and she was much faster at those. But oh, such odd things came next! There were strange little puzzles with numbers, which she found very easy to solve (it surprised her to see some of the other girls having trouble, but it made up for the lightning clicking of their fingers on the typewriter keys while she struggled at overstriking her missed letters, she supposed). They even had her do the crossword from the Times.
The assessment went on for hours, and when they were finally let go, she felt as if her brain had been given a good workout; she was tired and in need of lunch. She found herself, however, in a small gathering of some of the girls on the corner outside the building, all of whom had decided to walk to the Tube station together. One of them had some cigarettes in her purse and didn't mind sharing, which was an act of some generosity, given that "coffin nails" had become expensive due to the looming war.
Peggy felt marvelously daring. Her mother did not approve of ladies smoking cigarettes, and she reminded herself to get off a stop before her usual one and walk the rest of the way, to let her hair and clothes air out on the way home.
"How do you think you did?" asked one of the other girls. She was tall and storklike, older than most of the rest, and had introduced herself as Fran.
"Oh, I don't know," said the girl with the cigarettes carelessly. "I'm rubbish at typing, and I don't care for that business with the crossword. It's only to make my mum happy. She thinks I need something to keep myself busy."
"I hope the references aren't terribly important," Peggy said. "One of Father's friends was willing to write me a letter, and I had one from my maths teacher. But I haven't much." She also wondered nervously if the background check would turn up a few ... regrettable incidents. Did the War Office care about larks involving stolen underwear? Worse, would they tell her parents?
"Don't worry, they hardly look at those," Fran said dismissively. It soon turned out that she'd worked in a department store's accounting office for several years before she'd become ill and had to take a year off work to "go to the country." Peggy wondered what the problem had been; she seemed healthy enough now.
"The rest of us haven't a chance, then!" a girl named Edith said with a laugh. "I did like the crossword bit. It was fun. I used to do them with my gran. And those odd puzzles with the numbers too. I'd like to do more of those."
As she rode home, fluffing her hair in the hopes of getting the smoke smell out, Peggy thought it was likely she didn't have much of a chance, with her lack of experience. She thought wistfully of the WAAFs, but she wasn't old enough yet; they were only taking girls of 20 and older. Though she did so want to do something useful. She dreaded the idea of nursing or being a Land Girl, but if there was nothing else ... she couldn't sit idly by while Michael risked his life.
Perhaps the War Office job would work out, she thought hopefully. Taking dictation for some stodgy general wasn't the most exciting thing she could imagine, but it certainly sounded more interesting than sitting at home rolling bandages.
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(omg, did Fran have to go off to have a kid?)
I love the details! and the other girls and Peggy being rubbish at typing and the generous girl with the cigarettes and them all wondering what it's about. (It's always a pain when people say "I want more!" isn't it, but also a compliment. I can see this as the beginning of a long story! But it's perfect as is.)
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(omg, did Fran have to go off to have a kid?)
Yes! Nice catch! Peggy's too sheltered (she's about 18 here) to figure it out herself, yet.
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or Jack/Daniel/Peggy, firelight
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Jarvis and Howard and their always unspoken but strong fondness for/loyalty toward each other. They're sort of presented as 'the finished product' without any grounding beyond the story Jarvis told us, and that was mostly about Ana.
A decade or three down the line when SHIELD is chugging along and kids start to/have entered in the picture: Peggy's, little Tony (I forget when he was born), or maybe stillalive!Michael's since apparently that's where Sharon comes from?
Peggy's friendship with Howard, fun times or tougher times (but not too sad, I like happy fic).
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It wasn't so different from any evening taking care of her little brother when her parents weren't home, Lizzie Sousa told herself as she made sandwiches at the kitchen counter. She was fifteen, after all: plenty old enough to make sure that Danny Jr. -- presently watching TV in the living room -- got fed and put to bed okay. She was really much too old to need a babysitter, but Mum had said that a friend from work would come over to look after them, and when Mum said that kind of thing, she meant the sort of friends who carried guns and it wasn't the kind of thing that a person could negotiate about.
"I'm so sorry your father and I have to go out of town in such a hurry," Mum had said over the phone. "We'll make it up to you both when we get back. It's only the job, darling."
At least she didn't promise it would be the last time. Mum never lied about that kind of thing, like some grownups did. Lizzie had grown up knowing that, and also knowing that there would always be some other crisis, some other reason why one or both of her parents had to miss a bedtime or a birthday or a piano recital.
It was usually the Jarvises who stayed with them when their parents were out of town, but Uncle Edwin and Aunt Ana were out of the country with her mom's friend Mr. Stark. So Mum had arranged for someone else -- or, more like, ordered one of the people who worked for her to come over and stay with them overnight just in case of Russian spies or whatever Mum was worried about lately. Lizzie hoped it was a nice friend and not some stuffy middle-aged grown-up like most of her parents' friends.
"Hey, Lizard!" Danny called from the living room over the sound of galloping hoofbeats and cowboy music.
"Don't call me that!"
"Somebody's at the door. I'm gonna answer it."
"No!" Lizzie shouted back. She dropped the knife she was using to cut off the crusts and hurried into the living room, where Danny was picking himself up from his place on the living room floor with his nose a foot from the family TV and grabbing his cap gun. "No, no, no. Mum said you are never, ever to answer the door without an adult present."
"You're not an adult," Danny retorted.
"I'm the closest thing you've got, so sit down," she said with all the authority in her voice that she could muster.
Danny scowled, but he plunked himself down in front of the TV.
The knock at the front door -- completely unheard the first time, over the sound of the TV and her own bustling around the kitchen -- came again, brisk and efficient. Lizzie took a deep breath and went over to the door.
"Password!" she called through the door.
A male voice, sounding slightly amused, answered her. "What do you get one time today, three times tomorrow, and never in the future?"
"The letter 'o'," she answered back. Danny had gotten a book of riddles for Christmas a couple of years ago, and all the family passwords had been riddles ever since.
"That's right. You sound sharp. Can I come in?"
"Are you the friend of my mom's who was supposed to come over to babysit?"
"That's me."
Lizzie unlocked the door and opened it.
He wasn't old and stuffy-looking. Actually he was only kind of old, like just barely an adult. And he was ... cute. Not cute like the cute boys at school, but a different kind of cute. Lizzie stared at him, wide-eyed and briefly dazzled.
"Hello there," he said, flashing a grin at her. "You must be Elizabeth. Can I come in?"
Lizzie cleared her throat, got hold of herself, and held out a hand. "ID."
"You're definitely your mom's kid," he remarked. He held up his hands to show they were empty and then reached carefully into his jacket pocket.
Lizzie felt someone bump her leg and aimed an annoyed kick at Danny Jr. as he tried to peek around her. "Go turn down the TV," she hissed at him, feeling suddenly embarrassed about Danny's cowboy show blaring at top volume in the living room.
Her mom's friend held out a SHIELD ID. Lizzie took it and held it up to the light to check for the signs of faded or mis-registered ink that her mom had showed her could be signs of a forgery. "Okay," she said, "this looks real, but is that really your real name?"
"As God is my witness," he said, taking the ID back.
"Fury?"
"Not my fault. Blame my dad," he said dryly.
"Do you have a gun?" Danny asked, popping up at her side.
"Danny!"
"Yeah, I have a gun," Agent Fury said, twitching back his jacket to show that he was wearing a holster. "Can I come in, or do you want me to stand out on the porch 'til the neighbors start asking questions?"
Lizzie couldn't think of any other questions to ask him herself, so she stood back and let him come in. "I'm making sandwiches," she said. "They're cheese and roast beef. Do you, um ... want one?"
"Well, that's hospitable of you. Sure."
And that was how they ended up sitting around on the living room floor eating sandwiches off Mum's good plates with the TV playing softly in the background and Danny peppering Agent Fury ("You kids can call me Nick if you want") with questions about SHIELD missions ("Classified."), whether he'd ever used his gun ("Sure."), when ("Classified.") and so forth.
Lizzie let Danny stay up an extra hour past his bedtime. Agent Fury promised he wouldn't tell.
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Lizzie is a perfect product of Peggy's parenting. And FURY? Not who I Was expecting, but I love it <3
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(I want to finish up these prompts so I can ask for new ones!! I will post all of these ficlets on Tumblr in a little while - but probably not tonight because I'm going to be away from the computer for the next day or two.)
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Mamafandom WILL PROVIDE.no subject
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And yet, she's simply there, that slim blond-haired woman, between one glance and the next. She's sitting on a pile of fence rails, watching him pull weeds as if she's been there all day and has nowhere else to be.
"Hi," he says after a moment.
"Hi," she says. "I heard you were off ice."
He doesn't ask who told her. He's pretty sure he knows. He picks up his sickle and hooks another thick handful of weeds as the Wakandan farmers have shown him, standing on the ends of the weeds with his boot to give him leverage to cut, since he doesn't have a spare hand to do it with.
"You still don't remember me, do you?" the Black Widow asks.
"I know who you are."
"That's not the same thing."
He looks up. "I remember fighting you," he says. "Vaguely."
"Not the same thing either."
He can't help smiling a little. "There are a lot of things I don't remember. Most of them, I don't want to. Anyway, if you're here for my help, I don't fight these days if I can help it. I'm not even sure how good at it I'd be, anymore."
(That's a lie. He knows how good he is at it. That's why he doesn't want to do it.)
"I know," she says. "Believe it or not, I just wanted to ..." She hesitates. "To chat."
Bucky gives her a skeptical look. He has a feeling the Widow doesn't normally have chats without an ulterior motive attached. Or make awkward pauses unless she intended them.
She breaks into a smile. It looks genuine. He doesn't trust that either. "All right," she says. "You caught me. I wanted to feel you out. Just to try to get a feeling for who you are now. How much of it is gone, and how much is still there."
He appreciates the honesty, at least. If it even is honesty. "Why?" he asks, standing there in the overgrown field with his arm dangling at his side and the razor-sharp sickle resting against his leg. (He tries not to think of how easily he could kill a man with it. Or a woman. Tries not to wonder if he's used one that way in the past.)
"Because of Steve," the Widow says simply. "He's my friend. And because ... of things you don't remember."
Bucky just nods. Everyone remembers things about him that he doesn't. Everyone wants things from him because of that. It's nothing new.
"I can go," she says. "Unless you feel like a visitor."
He doesn't, really. But he seldom gets visitors, aside from the tall, fierce women who he knows have been set to keep a guard on him. It's because of them that he keeps tea in the house. There's just enough left of the old Bucky Barnes, the Brooklyn Bucky Barnes, that he doesn't quite feel comfortable entertaining a woman without offering her something to drink. Generally, he and whichever of the Dora Milaje has been put on today's Winter Soldier babysitting duty will sit and stare at each other over their cups of tea. Sometimes the Dora Milaje will ask politely about the weather or the crops. All that Bucky can think of to ask in reply is how are things in the city, to which he usually gets a cool stare and a one-word reply.
... so it's not exactly a social affair. But he does have tea, the local red tea that he's never had (that he remembers) before coming here. And he has cups. And he's been out in the sun for a long while, and could use something to drink.
"If you want to," he says.
She jumps down from the pile of lumber like she's been waiting for an invitation, and strolls toward his house. After a minute, Bucky stabs the sickle in a fence post so he doesn't lose it in the grass, and follows her.
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//crumples
He doesn't, really. But he seldom gets visitors, aside from the tall, fierce women who he knows have been set to keep a guard on him. It's because of them that he keeps tea in the house. There's just enough left of the old Bucky Barnes, the Brooklyn Bucky Barnes, that he doesn't quite feel comfortable entertaining a woman without offering her something to drink. Generally, he and whichever of the Dora Milaje has been put on today's Winter Soldier babysitting duty will sit and stare at each other over their cups of tea. Sometimes the Dora Milaje will ask politely about the weather or the crops. All that Bucky can think of to ask in reply is how are things in the city, to which he usually gets a cool stare and a one-word reply.
OMG I love this. Bucky and his guardians being awkwardly guardedly polite. Drinking rooibos? (Rooibos is great.) And Bucky trying to make his knives into a sickle, to help weed instead of kill. Love it.
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I love all the details, Bucky always looking over his shoulder, working with a sickle (while trying not to think what else he could do with it), having tea with the Dora Milaje, everything! And knowing exactly how good he is, which is why he doesn't want to fight. Spot on, all of it.
I'm still so fascinated with all the ways these tow could relate to each other. Thank you so much for writing this for me!
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Edit: Also I went poking around your prompt fic, and somehow I completely missed that you'd filled a prompt for me back in February. I usually check my tag, so IDK how I didn't see it! Anyway, it was great. :')
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