Tuesday: Decade – 80s!

[brumeier]

Hello, everyone. I’m brumeier and I’ll be your host for the week. Today's theme is Decade: 80s! Prompts can be anything or anyone related to the 1980s – events, songs, fandoms, etc. Fills don’t need to be decade specific.

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and the fandom's full name
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here. Unfortunately, DW doesn’t have a cut tag, so use your best judgment when it comes to spoilers.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above-mentioned spoiler cut.

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Any, Any,

If there’s something strange
in your neighborhood
Who you gonna call?
(Ray Parker Jr.)

+ Stargate Multiverse, Any ensemble, “10 years ago a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum-security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the A-Team.”

Any, Any, This time it’s personal. (tagline for Jaws: The Revenge)

We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2024 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? You can use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community. Fret not, DW members; we are working on a way to search through old entries for prompts for you! As of right now, the best way to search for a lonely prompt on DW is to search the community’s archive, which can be found [[HERE]].

While the use of LJ's advanced search and DW’s archive are options, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching in the future.

As a friendly reminder about our schedule, Lonely Prompts and sharing completed fills are encouraged on Sundays, while new themes and prompts are posted on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Saturdays are a Free for All day. We'll share our posts on DW and LJ for everyone's convenience. Keep an eye out for notifications!

If you have a Dreamwidth account and would feel more comfortable participating there, please feel free to do so…and spread the word! comment_fic

tag=decade: 80s

Comments

[brumeier]

Any, Any,

If there’s something strange
in your neighborhood
Who you gonna call?
(Ray Parker Jr.)

Fill: Astro, Shadowhunter AU, ensemble + Sua + OMC, TW for animal abuse

[nagi_schwarz]

“If there’s something strange in your neighborhood, who you gonna call?” Myungjun sang softly to himself as he hurried along the sidewalk toward his apartment building, not because he was thinking of the Ghostbusters movie — it was a fun movie — but because he was trying to cheer himself up. While he lived in a nice building in a nice enough neighborhood, he was still nervous alone this late at night.

Because there was something strange going on. He could feel it. It tingled between his shoulderblades, something watching him. Ever since he’d been kidnapped by a vampire and introduced to the shadow world and all it entailed, being alone at night made him nervous. He’d always believed his country was safe, but nowhere was safe from vampires and demons.

As he headed for his apartment door, he realized what was so wrong: the neighborhood was too quiet.

Usually he heard bugs and stray cats.

But tonight he heard nothing.

Myungjun ducked into the foyer of his building. Should he call the cops? No, what would he even say to them? And that would cause a publicity incident besides.

He fumbled into his pocket for his phone. He should call — no, not Sua. Management would kill him if they found out he was calling an attractive, young single woman who was a huge fan of his. Dabbling with one’s fans was always a bad idea.

Myungjun scrolled through his contacts, and — there. Park Jinwoo. He dialed.

“Hello?” Jinwoo answered immediately.

“It’s me, Kim Myungjun. Sorry to disturb you so late.”

“It’s fine. We’re all awake. After all, we hunt the things that go bump in the night, and it’s the middle of the night.” Jinwoo sounded amused.

“About things that go bump in the night,” Myungjun said.

“What is it?” Jinwoo’s amusement vanished.

“For a while now I’ve felt like something has been watching me, something malevolent, on my way home.” Myungjun took a deep breath. “After what happened with, you know, that, uh, woman, maybe I’m a bit nervous, but —”

“Send me your location. We’ll be there immediately,” Jinwoo said, and then, muffled, to someone in the background, “Arm up! We’re moving out.”

“Thanks,” Myungjun said. “I know you have more important things to do, but —”

“Sit tight. We’re on our way,” Jinwoo said, and the call ended.

Myungjun sent Jinwoo his address, and then he fretted, waiting, peering out into the darkness. Sure, he had to punch a security code in to get into the building, but would the flimsy glass doors hold back a vampire or demon or…or whatever else might be out there? If only Myungjun knew some kind of magic, or —

A kitten tottered past.

Myungjun recognized it. He’d left it some food the other day, charmed by the bright orange stripes of its coat, like a miniature tiger.

Myungjun opened the door and crouched down, already reaching into his backpack for one of the snacks he always carried, and then the kitten toppled over.

Lifeless.

Myungjun screamed. Then he immediately clapped a hand to his mouth, casting about. No. This was a street kitten. Poor thing had probably died of exposure. He ought to give it a proper burial. He —

Blood dripped out of the kitten’s mouth and eyes.

Myungjun yelped and scrambled away.

He crashed into someone and screamed again. Hands clamped around his shoulders and spun him, and then he was gazing into shadowed face with burning dark eyes.

“Did you see?”

Myungjun shook his head frantically and squeezed his eyes shut, but it was too late.

A hand closed around his throat.

A moment later, hands closed around his arms and legs, and he was wrenched backwards.

He heard a thump and some cursing. When he opened his eyes, Jinwoo and Minhyuk were holding him while Sua and Bin pounced on the attacker.

“Are you all right?” Jinwoo asked.

“H-how did you get here so fast?” Myungjun asked, mind spinning.

“Portal,” Dongmin said. He had a hat jammed on to cover the buds of his antlers. He knelt beside the kitten and sniffed. “It’s been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” Myungjun echoed.

“This guy’s just a regular human,” Sua said.

Bin had him pinned to the ground.

Myungjun peered at him — and recognized him. The employee from the chicken restaurant down the street. Myungjun had seen the man giving leftover chicken to the street cats dozens of times.

Street cats that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“We should call the police,” Jinwoo said.

Minhyuk nodded. “People who kill animals like this usually go on to kill other humans.”

Myungjun wanted to be sick. Instead he turned to Dongmin. “Can we save the cat?”

“Unfortunately, no. Raising a creature from the dead is no light matter.” Dongmin’s expression was grim.

“I’ll call the police,” Myungjun said. “Leave you out of it as much as possible.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Jinwoo said.

“Me too, in case we find ourselves in need of memory charms.” Dongmin pressed a hand to Minhyuk’s arm. “Go.”
And he opened a portal.

Minhyuk, Sua, and Bin vanished into it, leaving Dongmin, Myungjun, and Jinwoo, the poor kitten, and the man unconscious on the ground.

“Sometimes the scariest monsters are other humans,” Myungjun said softly.

“Indeed. In some ways, humans are the scariest monsters, for how much evil they can wreak compared to how frail they are, especially when there are demons and eldritch gods in this universe.” Dongmin placed a little handkerchief over the kitten.

Myungjun unlocked his phone. He called the police.

“Seoul Metropolitan Police. How may I direct your call?”

“I’d like to report an assault, please.”

Jinwoo and Dongmin remained with Myungjun until the police arrived. Whatever Bin and Sua had done to the terrible man from the chicken restaurant kept him unconscious the entire time.

“What are you going to tell the elders at the Institute?” Dongmin asked Jinwoo.

“That we stopped a monster and protected a human, like we’re supposed to.” Jinwoo squeezed Myungjun’s shoulders, and Myungjun sank into his warmth.

[brumeier]

Stargate Multiverse, Any ensemble, “10 years ago a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum-security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the A-Team.”

[brumeier]

Any, Any, This time it’s personal. (tagline for Jaws: The Revenge)

[brumeier]

Any, Any, being a spy during the Cold War

Fill: Spooks AU

[smallhobbit]

“Do you think it will work?” Ros Myers asked. “I know we’ve passed on the timings but I’m still dubious. The East Germans have been jumpy the last few days; I wouldn’t put it past them to change their routine at the last moment.”

“It was our last chance,” Adam Carter replied. “If Achterberg doesn’t get out, he’s almost certain to be taken by the Stasi. He has to make his escape tonight, too many of our operatives have been captured recently.”

“Well, the gates are open, he needs to get over the wall now or never.”

They watched, but there was no sign of anyone coming over the wall, and not even of extra activity on the far side.

Adam swore. “Looks like he didn’t make it.”

A few minutes later a workman knocked on the door of the hut they were watching from.

“Komm!” Adam called.

The workman shambled inside.

“Lucas, what are you doing here?” Ros exclaimed.

“It turns out Achterberg was our mole. I found out too late to let you know, so simply changed some of the timings you’d provided, and made good the confusion that caused to bring out Bauer and Koch because the East Germans were looking in the wrong direction."

[nagi_schwarz]

Any, Any, Stand By Me

[brumeier]

Any, Any, “I saw my entire life flash before my eyes and I thought, ‘What a shame if I die now, I’m too young…and I’m wearing the wrong underwear.” (The Golden Girls)

[nagi_schwarz]

Any, any, The Lost Boys

Fill: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay + various Wraith

[brumeier]

Thou Shall Not Fear

[brumeier]

Any, Any, Just Say No

[nagi_schwarz]

Any, any, Moonstruck

Fill: Spooks AU

[smallhobbit]

Harry Pearce looked in some disbelief as Jo Portman walked up the slope towards them, accompanied by the werewolf. Earlier that evening they had been stationed where they could eavesdrop on a conversation between two potential suspects, with a transmitter in the werewolf’s collar relaying the words back to Malcolm.

Now Harry said, “Jo, I’m worried you’ve been moonstruck.”

“I had to do something to justify my presence,” Jo said, by way of explanation. “The conversation went on for ages, so there had to be some reason why I remained sitting there. So I made a daisy chain.”

“That I will accept, but…”

“I thought they were going, so stood up and then they watched me. I couldn’t just throw the daisies away, because that would have looked suspicious, so I put it round my furry friend’s neck. They seemed to think this was perfectly reasonable.”

“The whole world’s gone mad!”

[nagi_schwarz]

Any, any, Pretty in Pink

Chicago Med, Hannah/Dean

[helsinkibaby]

Hannah didn't get into medicine to play fund raiser for medical corporations. No, she got into medicine to help people. Deliver babies. Make a difference.

However. Chicago Med needs money to run, and the annual fundraising black tie dinner is a major way of doing that. She's never been invited to it before, but this year, Miss Goodwin personally asked her to attend. Miss Goodwin is also one of the people who never gave up on Hannah, who kept in touch with her when she left Med and moved out west, who invited her back and has had her back every step of the way. So if Miss Goodwin needs her to click her high heels together, click onto Rent the Runway and click on a dress that makes her look amazing, well it's not the hardest thing that she's ever been asked to do.

Besides, she's willing to admit that there just might be an ulterior motive to her getting all dressed up and going dancing.

Because Dean Archer has also been asked to attend the dinner this evening and because they're on shift beforehand, he's suggested that he drive them both there. A perfectly friendly thing to do, Hannah knows. Perfectly collegial. All the things that they are.

But there's also all the things they aren't. Or shouldn't be. Things that Hannah shouldn't even let herself think about.

Like the way Dean's eyes sometimes linger on her when he talks to her, when he thinks she's not looking. The way he listens to her in a way that he doesn't listen to other people, like he enjoys the debate, the verbal jousting back and forth rather than merely tolerating it, the way he actually takes her opinions on board. The way his lips curve in a smile when he doesn't even realise it. Not to mention all those nights spent in his house, in his bedroom, curled up on an armchair as he underwent dialysis, occasionally chatting about their days, their lives, occasionally reading in silence before one or other of them fell asleep.

She's not sure when her feelings for him became more than strictly platonic, if it was before or after the transplant, before or after Mitch and Margo, but she can't deny that she perused the selections on Rent the Runway with a particular mind as to what might make Dean's heart beat a little faster.

And while it's not Dean that gives a low whistle as she walks into the doctors' lounge - that honour belongs to Nellie - Hannah will take all the encouragement she can get. "You look incredible." Nellie pronounces each individual syllable of the third word, her grin widening as Hannah gives her a twirl, the long fuchsia skirt swishing around her ankles. The dress cinches in to show off her waist, has long flimsy sleeves that tighten at the wrist and manages to be modest enough even with the deep vee down the front of it - Hannah thinks it may have been made for a slightly bigger busted lady, but it's well taped into place so she's sure she'll be fine. Careful pinning of her hair this morning made her curls survive the shift and Nellie had shown her a trick with liner that has made her eyes pop. "He's not gonna know what hit him."

Hannah makes a baffled face, shakes her head, all innocence. The walls have ears in this place and who knows who could walk in at any moment. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." Nellie actually rolls her eyes. "We've had this talk before."

"And just like before, I am ignoring you." Hannah turns around and opens her locker, locating the small sparkly clutch that she'd left there this morning.

"Come on, let me live vicariously... some of us have to work tonight."

"You should have said, you could've come as my date." Hannah busies herself with making her lipstick and phone fit in the clutch - why did she buy such a tiny, impractical bag again? - and that's when she hears the door to the doctors' lounge open.

"Don't waste the dress on me." Nellie's voice is teasing and from that tone alone Hannah knows exactly who's just walked in. "What do you think, Doctor Archer?"

Hannah straightens up, meets Dean's eyes and sees them move up and down her form. A gleam comes into them as they travel, his lips curling up in a tiny smile that Hannah is sure he doesn't know is there. Beside him, unseen by him, Nellie definitely knows that she's grinning, because she gives Hannah a thumbs up before slipping out the door. "Pretty in pink, I see," he says softly, his voice lower than usual. It makes Hannah shiver.

She covers it up by tilting her head, quirking one eyebrow. Her standard posture when she responds to him, nothing to see here, move along folks. "You gonna sing to me?" she quips and he chuckles.

"Believe me, I would never put you through that." He takes a step closer to him, then another one, his eyes locked on hers. "You really do look lovely tonight."

She hopes she doesn't sound as breathless as she feels when she replies, "You don't scrub up so bad yourself." Ain't that the truth, she thinks. Perfectly fitting dark suit, white shirt, tie the same colour as their hospital scrubs, it's not a look she sees on him often but it's definitely a look she likes. "Ready to schmooze some donors?"

"No." His voice is flat. He's as big a fan of these shindigs as she is, she guesses. "But since that doesn't matter, I suppose we should make the best of it." Lips twitching, he offers her his elbow. "Shall we?"

She takes her skirt in one hand, swishes it back and forth theatrically as she slides her hand into the crook of his arm. "We shall."

And they do.

[nagi_schwarz]

Any, any, Running on Empty

[vonseal]

Any, any, You Make My Dreams Come True (Daryl Hall and John Oates song)

Filled on AO3: Astro, Binu, royal AU

[nagi_schwarz]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55584472

[squidgiepdx]

Stargate Atlantis, Any/Any, "Cheers"

Fill: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay + Evan Lorne/David Parrish

[brumeier]

The bar didn’t have a name, though there had been plenty of suggestions thrown around. And really, it didn’t need one. It wasn’t like there were other bars competing for business and name recognition.

There also wasn’t a regular bartender. Anyone could get behind the bar and pour drinks if they wanted to, though a rule had been enforced banning the fancy flipping of the bottles because they couldn’t afford the loss of either the bottles or the alcohol. There was a book of cocktail recipes different people had come up with, the popular ones marked with a star.

The Stunner.

Athosian Drunken Tea.

9 Gs.

Purple People Eater.

Lantea on Ice.

The alcohol had been sourced from two galaxies, though Radek’s rot-gut vodka had been the start of it all. (The very first cocktail made with it had been the Czech, Please!)

Number one rule: zero citrus.

“Belly up to the bar, sir,” Lorne said cheerfully.

A seat slid out of the front of the bar as John approached and he dropped down on it, straddling the mechanism that moved it.

“What’s good today, Major?”

“Let me hook you up with the special.”

John didn’t pay much attention to what was getting mixed. The other people seated around the horseshoe-shaped bar all greeted him – military, civilians, and a very tipsy Dr. Parrish.

“Colonel! Welcome. Welcome, welcome.”

“Feeling no pain today, Doc?” John replied with a grin.

“Nope. It’s a good day. Good day for Botany.”

John didn’t know what that meant, or what constituted a bad day in Botany, so he just nodded. His XO shot Parrish an amused, affectionate look.

“Dr. Parrish thinks they’ve cracked the coffee code.”

“Cheers to that!” John accepted the cocktail from Lorne and saluted Parrish with it. Before he could take a taste, McKay was jostling him as he waited for his seat to slide out.

“Did you hear the news, Colonel?”

John nodded. “Dr. Parrish had a good day.”

McKay gave him a blank look. “Who?”

“The man who’ll be growing you coffee, Rodney. You might want to learn his name.”

“It’s David,” Dr. Parrish said helpfully. “You can call me Dave, but not Davey. Never Davey.”

Lorne made a face. “Not Dave either.”

Before John could make another attempt at his cocktail, McKay snatched it out of his hand and took a healthy swallow.

“No, please,” John said dryly. “Help yourself.”

“This is pretty good.”

“I wouldn’t know.” John forcefully reclaimed his glass and tossed the remainder of the drink back. It started out nice and smooth, but then gave him an unexpected kick in the back of his throat. It wasn’t the worst one he’d tried since they opened the bar. “What’s it called.”

Lorne leaned forward on his elbows, his expression suspiciously earnest. “We call it the McShep.”

“That what now?” McKay asked, hand in a bowl of not-popcorn.

It was Parrish who answered. “It’s you, you know? All cool and laid back, and then bam! Dr. McKay!”

“Dr. McKay what?”

John rolled his eyes and tried to mask his embarrassment. “It’s the name of the drink.”

“What is?”

“This is better than some of the old comedy shows my Gran used to watch,” Lorne said, looking unfairly gleeful. “Who’s on first?”

“I’ll have another one of those,” McKay said. “What did you say it’s called?”

“McShep,” Lorne replied, and started mixing up another one. “A little smooth, like the colonel, and a little spicy, like you.”

“Oh. Clever.”

“And now comes the kissing!” Dr. Parrish said, and suddenly everyone at the bar was looking at John and McKay.

“Why would there be kissing?” McKay asked. “Are we playing a new drinking game?”

“McKay –”

“Well, we’re winning it,” McKay said determinedly.

The next thing John knew, he had McKay’s lips pressed against his lips. It was a chaste, close-mouthed kiss, and it was a little salty from the popcorn, but John felt as though he’d been hit by an electric charge.

Everyone was hooting and hollering, and some money was changing hands, but McKay just accepted his cocktail and hummed happily as he took another drink. John desperately wished he had a drink, too, so he had something to do besides sit there looking gobsmacked.

Then again, turnabout was fair play. He plucked the glass out of McKay’s hands and took a sip.

“Hey!”

“Come and get it,” John taunted, tipping the glass forward and back, sloshing the remains of the McShep. He meant the cocktail, he really did, but McKay got that familiar gleam in his eye.

“If that’s how you want it.”

More kissing, only now there was tongue and intent and holy shit! It was almost enough to block out the round of applause they were getting. Almost.

“Mmm. That does taste better.” McKay had the nerve to drop a wink.

John thought he might’ve been played, but then McKay’s hand was on his thigh and there was a feverish blush riding high on McKay’s cheekbones, and he didn’t look quite as certain as he sounded.

“Really?”

“Only if you want.”

John wanted. He slid off his seat and tipped his head in the direction of the transporter. McKay almost tripped over his own feet following suit.

“It’s a good day for everyone,” Parrish observed.

“Cheers to that,” Lorne replied.

[squidgiepdx]

Stargate Atlantis, Any/Any, "Family Ties"

[squidgiepdx]

Grimm, Any/Any, "Dynasty"

[vonseal]

Any, any, permed hair

[squidgiepdx]

Torchwood, Captain Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, "Small Wonder"

[squidgiepdx]

Any, Any/Any, "Dallas"

Chicago Med, Hannah/Dean

[helsinkibaby]

"The shower?"

Dean tilts his head back towards the ceiling, thankful for the soft pillow beneath it, before looking back down at Hannah, her eyes wide with mirth, lips stretched in a smile that's half amazement and half amusement. Her chin is pillowed on her hands which are pillowed on his chest and he pulls her closer as he slides one finger down her spine. "Ah, yes, laughter, just what every man wants from the woman he's in bed with."

"Seriously?" He doesn't know whether her laughter is from his reaction or the initial story. "They brought him back in the shower and decided the whole season was a dream?"

He'd never thought that what he considered a fairly rudimentary pop culture reference would lead them here. He'd assumed it was something that everyone knew, universal knowledge. Apparently not. "I can't believe you never heard of Bobby in the shower," he grumbles, trying not to do the math on how old she would have been when that aired and failing utterly - Jesus, was she even born? "I'm drowning in the generation gap here."

Hannah's grin turns impish as she shifts against him, moving so that she's straddling him, pushing herself up on her elbows. The movement dislodges the sheet covering them both, exposing more of her to his gaze and he suddenly couldn't give a damn about Bobby Ewing any more. "I guess you had to be there," she murmurs and he smiles as he slides his hands up her sides, enjoying how her eyelids flutter, like she's trying hard to keep them open but she can't quite manage it.

"I'd rather be here," he tells her and, when she leans down so that their lips can meet, he thinks she's in complete agreement with him.

[creepy_shetan]

author's choice, any +/ any, spending a Saturday at the mall

[creepy_shetan]

Stranger Things, any, temporary tattoos

Fill: Eleven

[templefugate]

El's dripping wet lower arm was covered in glittery patches that only vaguely resembled stars and hearts. Despite her new style, the black markings along her wrist, the numbers that Papa had so proudly etched into her, were as visible as ever - now maybe even moreso. And she couldn't even really say that she was disappointed. Had she honestly expected this to work?

No, not really. But if she'd learned anything since leaving the Rainbow Room, then it was that when she saw an opportunity, she should go ahead and take it.

After all, sometimes she managed to get lucky.

[creepy_shetan]

author's choice, any, playing Nintendo (the original NES/Famicom)

[scifirenegade]

Doctor Who (classic), Seventh Doctor + Ace, Policy of Truth

[templefugate]

Any non-horror fandom, ensemble, the cast finds themselves in a slasher movie

[templefugate]

Any, any, mullets and rat tails

[templefugate]

Disney, Rapunzel & Mother Gothel, Mommie Dearest