Suiyoubi ✎ Minor Characters
Mar. 16th, 2016 05:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
creepy_shetan posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficGreetings~! I'm ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
creepy_shetan, this week's guest host. ♫ Hrm... Are there any holidays or historical anniversaries for the 16th of March? 'Cause I got nothin'. 6^^;;
Today's theme: minor characters. Let's give special attention to those who aren't always around or who don't usually have much to say in canon. Gen, romance, humor, AU... whatever floats your boat. Major characters can be included in the fun as well, but they can't steal the spotlight. (Not everything is about them! >:P)
A reminder of the rules:
Please remember to use the proper format for prompts.
➔ ➔ ➔ Fandom [/ Crossover], Character [+ or / Relationship], Prompt
Again, please include the full names of the fandom(s) and character(s). This is so that unfilled prompts can easily be added to the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and be found through manual search.
Examples:
We are now using AO3 to keep track of filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and (cross-)post it to AO3, please add your story to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. More information on this can be found here.
If the plot bunnies aren’t biting you today, feel free to check out our Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet (ever a work in progress) or the community's archive calendar. Another prompt archive (and recent work in progress by comm members) is here. You can also find prompts to write (and fills to read) with LJ’s advanced search options by limiting keyword results to comments posted in this community. (We exist on delicious as well, but it's rather dusty.)
While the above are available options, the simplest method might be to bookmark prompts that you like as you find them and return later when inspiration strikes.
Time to spread the love~! ❤
tag="Minor Characters"
creepy_shetan, this week's guest host. ♫ Hrm... Are there any holidays or historical anniversaries for the 16th of March? 'Cause I got nothin'. 6^^;;Today's theme: minor characters. Let's give special attention to those who aren't always around or who don't usually have much to say in canon. Gen, romance, humor, AU... whatever floats your boat. Major characters can be included in the fun as well, but they can't steal the spotlight. (Not everything is about them! >:P)
A reminder of the rules:
✦ Use the full names of the fandom(s) and character(s) in your prompts
✦ No more than five prompts in a row per day
✦ No more than three prompts per fandom per day
✦ If one or more of your prompts is filled today, then you may prompt again
✦ Include a clear warning for any possible triggers in prompts and fills
✦ For prompts, no spoilers until one month after the airdate/release (use a spoiler tag to hide part or all of the text)
✦ For fills, warn for spoilers clearly, and either leave blank space before the text or hide the text under a spoiler tag
Please remember to use the proper format for prompts.
➔ ➔ ➔ Fandom [/ Crossover], Character [+ or / Relationship], Prompt
Again, please include the full names of the fandom(s) and character(s). This is so that unfilled prompts can easily be added to the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and be found through manual search.
Examples:
For a single fandom:
✧ Cowboy Bebop, Grencia Mars Elijah Guo Eckener + or / any, "All these mixed emotions we keep locked away like stolen pearls" (Savage Garden)
✧ The Librarians (TV 2014), Ariel + any, Jenkins doesn't know she's back in the Annex (for whatever reason)
For multiple fandoms / crossovers:
✧ Castle/Suits, Ethan Slaughter + Richard Castle + Jessica Pearson, Slaughter needs Castle's help on a case. Jessica is the personal attorney of his main suspect.
We are now using AO3 to keep track of filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and (cross-)post it to AO3, please add your story to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. More information on this can be found here.
If the plot bunnies aren’t biting you today, feel free to check out our Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet (ever a work in progress) or the community's archive calendar. Another prompt archive (and recent work in progress by comm members) is here. You can also find prompts to write (and fills to read) with LJ’s advanced search options by limiting keyword results to comments posted in this community. (We exist on delicious as well, but it's rather dusty.)
While the above are available options, the simplest method might be to bookmark prompts that you like as you find them and return later when inspiration strikes.
Time to spread the love~! ❤
tag="Minor Characters"
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:13 am (UTC)(Perhaps her client is Noah Werner of Suburgatory / the suburbs of NYC? :D? He could definitely afford her.)
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Date: 2016-03-16 11:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:25 am (UTC)Filled
Date: 2016-03-16 01:31 pm (UTC)That first meeting does not go well.
Later, though, Barry sees Roddy at his school: a transfer student on scholarship. He hears the whispers and jeers, sees the way they bully the kid because he's poor and yeah, six months ago he probably wouldn't have cared, but ever since his mother went to jail he'd lost friends like water through a sieve. He hears them whispering behind his back, wondering if his mother's eyes are the only thing he had inherited from her...
So when he sees the guy knock Roddy's violin case to the floor he slams the guy up against the locker and growls at him to leave Roddy alone. Roddy slips away without even a "thank you" but Barry wasn't doing it for him, not really. Not then.
But it keeps happening. He turns the corner and there's some obnoxious dick, maybe even one of his old "friends", harassing Roddy and Barry just can't help himself. Eventually Barry has to admit that maybe he just doesn't like seeing Roddy getting picked on.
Roddy won't confront Barry about it for another two months, nearly the end of the school year, and even then Roddy will do it on his own turf. An army of warf rats stand ready to attack the moment Roddy indicates his displeasure. It goes much better than their initial meeting.
By the time September rolls around people are used to seeing Roddy on the back of Barry's motorcycle and the two of them locking lips at every opportunity. Anyone who tries to harass either of them for being queer ends up sharing their bed with a big ol' rat.
Re: Filled
From:no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 11:31 am (UTC)Fill
Date: 2016-09-27 01:58 pm (UTC)Aliens invaders expected staff blasts, grenades, gunfire. They didn't expect a good clout to the back of the head. They certainly didn't expect it from one of their own, but Siler was the chief base engineer for a reason. So he clouted one, donned his uniform, and set about clouting the rest until SG-1 got their act together.
2. Persuasion.
"It's not working, sir." Airman Chang looked frustrated with the stupid, stupid boiler.
There was every chance that Rodney McKay had routed cold water only to the showers as a last act of vengeance, but Siler highly doubted it.
He crouched down next to the boiler, stroked it. "It's okay, Gladys. She didn't mean it, did you, Airman?"
Chang stared at him like he was insane.
Siler stroked the boiler a little more. "C'mon girl, I know you have a few more years in you, till the QM can secure your retirement. What d'you say, lady? Fire up? For me?"
"Sir?" Chang asked.
Siler straightened up. "As a general rule, you just have to talk pretty to her," he said. "But sometimes, what she needs -" He banged on the boiler with his wrench - "is a little love tap."
And the boiler chugged to life.
3. Measuring tool.
"I lost my tape measure," Chang said. They were knee-deep in water and it was rising fast.
Siler handed her his wrench. "How many wrenches is it?"
She stared at it for a moment, shrugged, and then began measuring the pipe with it. "Five and about three-quarters, sir."
"Give me the wrench back, grab that pipe and that saw, and let's get to work."
4. A badge of honor.
"No," Chang hissed. "I get to hold the wrench."
Airman Ahuja rolled his eyes and stepped back, hands raised in surrender.
Chang scooped up Siler's favorite wrench, tucked it into her belt, and trotted after him. They reported in the gate room as ordered and then, Siler first, Chang second, Ahuja bringing up the rear and lugging the toolbox, they stepped through the gate.
Fixing a broken MALP was no problem.
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Date: 2016-03-16 11:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:32 pm (UTC)Fill: The Bigger Picture, G, 1/1
Date: 2016-03-21 11:15 pm (UTC)"Cass, dude," Scott says, but he's also biting back a smile because he's a shit and Hank wouldn't expect anything else.
"Thank you," Hank says amiably, mirroring her pose. "And you're quite young. How young are you, anyways? 30? 35?"
Cassie rolls her eyes. "Nice try. Mommy says I'm mature for my age, but not that mature." She reminds Hank desperately of Hope in this moment as she stands in the sitting room like she owns the place, looking right at home among the elegant, expensive furnishings in her purple dress and purse shaped like a dinosaur. Her small feet (covered in rainbow-striped tights) sink into the plush carpet, and she curls her toes into the softness.
Hank might be an old man, but he's also a dad, and he knows how little girls want (and deserve) to be treated when faced with a new acquaintance. Maybe he didn't respond the right way with Hope when she was a girl, but he wants to do it right this time. He can do it right this time. So he sits down on the carpet, ignoring the creak in his knees, and faces Cassie. "How old do you think I am?"
Cassie tilts her head a bit, thinking. She glances up at Scott, who is still leaning in the doorway, but he just holds his hands up as if to say keep me out of this. She turns back to Hank. "70," she says confidently.
Hank opens his mouth to speak, then pauses, impressed. "Well, uh...yes. You're right."
"Knew it," she says breezily. "Mommy and Daddy always tell me not to guess people's ages, but I'm really good at it. I didn't guess Miss Hope right, though. She was older!"
"I bet she didn't mind so much," Hank says with a smile. "So, tell me, Cassie. How old is your daddy?" He glances up at Scott, who is watching the two of them with a soft smile, obviously not worried about their interaction. He was learning to worry less when it came to Cassie--she'd proven time and time again that she was strong, resilient, and perceptive for her age. But she was still his little girl, and Hank was still his...something. And he wanted things to go smoothly for once in his life.
"He's old, too," Cassie says, sitting down next to Hank. She opens her dinosaur purse through a zipper on its back and offers Hank a Hershey's kiss, which he accepts. "He's almost 50!"
"50, wow," Hanks says. "That is old." He can practically hear Scott rolling his eyes. "So, that's 20 years between us, which is a lot of years, right?"
"I guess," Cassie says, popping a chocolate in her mouth. Her two front teeth are missing, which Hank finds absolutely endearing. "But he also can turn into an ant with his special costume, and Miss Hope can fly, and your house reminds me of a haunted house." She chews with her mouth closed before speaking again. "So there's a lot of way cool stuff to do, even if you're old." She smiles sweetly up at Scott. "And Daddy says you make him feel young, which is silly, because you're both so old!" She crumples the wrapper into a ball. "May I throw this in the trash, please?"
"Of course," Hanks says, and stands, helping Cassie up. "Let's go to the kitchen." Cassie leads the way, even though she has no idea where she's going.
Hank steers her in the right direction. As they pass by Scott in the doorway, Hank leans in close enough to almost feel the embarrassed flush coming off Scott's face. "What's that they say about old dogs and new tricks?"
"Keep it up, old dog, and I won't be showing you any of my tricks later," Scott says under his breath and gives Hank a wink before following Cassie down the hallway, scooping her up in his arms.
Hank might like teasing Scott, but he knows when to pick his battles.
Re: Fill: The Bigger Picture, G, 1/1
From:Re: Fill: The Bigger Picture, G, 1/1
From:no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:33 pm (UTC)Fill (1/2)
Date: 2016-03-16 05:28 pm (UTC)Another meeting, everyone gathering in Cat’s office with the usual mixture of excitement and trepidation. Another meeting, and today’s distraction is Kara’s hands.
Siobhan hates this.
She tries to look focused, her notebook held poised in front of her. Okay, so she’s gripping her pen a little too tightly, so the look of attentiveness on her face isn’t one hundred percent authentic. But she’s good at her job, and she’s perfectly capable of multitasking. She won’t let Kara win.
The worst part is that Kara doesn’t even know what she’s doing to Siobhan. She’s too oblivious, too damn innocent, and that’s the problem.
Because Siobhan has a type.
It’s always the sweet ones that catch her eye, the awkward dorks with the heart of gold. Siobhan’s exact opposite, basically, and she has no idea why those are the ones she falls for, but she can’t escape it. It’s probably about competitiveness. It’s probably about corruption. It’s probably about deep psychological issues to do with self-worth and projection, but no amount of therapy is going to rid her of her frustratingly vivid attraction to Kara freakin’ Danvers.
It starts the same way it always does, with a glance in Kara’s direction and a smug smile to get under her skin. That’s the competitiveness. But then Kara will flush and frown at her and Siobhan’s thoughts slide a little too easily into the corruption side of things. Because today Kara responded to Siobhan’s smirk by glowering down at her own hands, and that led to Siobhan looking down at Kara’s hands, and now her mind won’t stop wandering.
Kara has nice hands. Smooth and tanned, not a mark or blemish in sight, no chewed fingernails or rougher skin across the knuckles - Siobhan almost wants to ask what hand cream Kara uses. But mostly she keeps looking at Kara’s fingers.
They’re long fingers, thin and kind of dainty, and all Siobhan can think about is the fun she could have with them.
All she can think about is what those fingers might feel like against her skin, between her legs. Working her open, nice and deep, and Siobhan can picture it so clearly, can see Kara sat beside Siobhan at her desk, pretending to be discussing work but instead her hand would be in Siobhan’s lap. Instead she’d be fingering Siobhan, hand moving beneath her dress, bringing her closer and closer, and Siobhan would have to grip the edge of the desk to keep from screaming.
Or maybe Siobhan would have Kara use those fingers on herself. Maybe late at night, when everyone’s gone home and they have the office to themselves, she’d have Kara sit on the printer, skirt shoved up to her waist. She’d tell Kara to show her how she likes it, watching Kara spread herself, blushing so fiercely as she fucks herself for Siobhan’s pleasure.
God, Siobhan’s got it bad. Because she’s in the middle of a meeting and Cat isn’t a woman who should be given only half her attention and now is the worst time to get lost in fantasies. But it’s also the best time, because Siobhan’s a lot less likely to lose her head when there are so many people around, a lot less likely to just grab Kara and kiss her to see the exact shade of pink she’ll turn.
Fill (2/2)
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:36 pm (UTC)Daddy's flown across the ocean
Leaving just a memory
A snap shot in the family album
Daddy what else did you leave for me?
Fill
Date: 2016-03-16 01:54 pm (UTC)But when Evan turned twelve, when he was digging through the attic to find some decorations to put in the yard for his birthday party, he found the box. Small, gunmetal gray, with a broken latch. Inside it was a passport, a photo of a soldier in a uniform, and dog tags. The dog tags belonged to one Lorne, Alexander Evan.
Evan's father had been a soldier. He'd fought in Vietnam, if the stamps in his passport were accurate.
And suddenly Evan's world made a little more sense. He wasn't broken for wanting to grow up and a soldier, be a fighter pilot, to see the wide world and help people and maybe save people. He was simply his father's son. When the other moms and dads on the commune looked ill-at-ease when Evan explained what he wanted to be when he grew up, they saw echoes of his father in him. Soldier. Baby-killer. But Evan had always known it wasn't that simple, that being a soldier was more than just following orders. It was being part of something bigger than himself, something more tangible than the spirituality and oneness the other moms and dads described when they sat around in circles, singing and playing music and getting a little stoned.
Grandma and Natalia and Mom were perfect for life on the commune, with their peacefulness and artistic ways, but Evan couldn't stay there forever. So he put the box away exactly where he found it as he found it, found decorations for his birthday party, and went downstairs. He bided his time for the next six years, learned to draw and paint and sculpt and do all the art Mom could, all the baking Grandma could. He learned to keep his gaze politely averted when he helped Natalia give her friends henna tattoos during their sleepovers. His senior year of high school, he applied at schools all across California to get into a surveyor program, because that was a useful skill, one he could fall back on after he retired from the military. And when he turned eighteen, he signed up for the Air Force ROTC, because they would help pay for school, and best of all, they would help him get his wings.
Grandma and Natalia cried when he told them. The news spread across the commune like wildfire, and Evan knew his mother and sister and grandmother would be pariahs for at least a month, and for one moment he fiercely, fiercely hated the people who'd tried to make him into something he wasn't supposed to be. But Mom hugged him and said she loved him and walked him to the bus stop so he could go to summertime basic training before college started in the fall.
When he got to his barracks and finally got to unpack, he found a small travel watercolor kit on top of the clothes in his duffel bag, and tucked inside it were his father's dogtags.
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-03-16 12:37 pm (UTC)Fill
Date: 2016-09-27 05:55 pm (UTC)Because Carson was a science person first and people person second, he was delighted when he learned first of Teyla’s local Athosian remedies, and then any other remedies gate teams picked up on various missions off-world. His goal was to establish as self-sufficient an infirmary as possible, especially since it looked like contact with Earth was only a vague hope. Atlantis was busy fending off Amish people armed with nukes and the Wraith, after all.
And then contact with Earth was re-established and Carson got a little distracted by the lovely Laura Cadman, but then Marie had Ronon alongside Teyla teaching the medical staff about more local remedies, and there was Major Lorne, bless his dimpled smile. Because under his careful watch, the Atlantis infirmary always had all the supplies it needed, plus a surplus in case of another extended Wraith siege.
The brief stint back on Earth was maddening, and not because Marie was no longer head nurse - because supply lines closer to the source were even more ridiculous than supply lines stretched thin to another galaxy, and Major Lorne had been reassigned and was no longer bringing Marie her much-needed supplies in a timely, organized fashion.
When they went back to Atlantis, Marie and Carson had the infirmary up and running in under seven days, which was useful, because the Replicators had done a lot of damage, and Atlantis, wilting under her injuries, kept zapping too-curious Marines. Marie was pretty sure this posting was the pinnacle of her medical career, and then exploding tumors happened.
Actual exploding tumors. It might have been funny if it weren’t so damned awful and Marie wasn’t crying every time she had a moment to herself because Carson was gone, Carson with his strong, gentle hands and his cute accent and his bright blue eyes.
In Carson’s place was Jennifer. Unlike Carson, she’d been a general practitioner and an ER doctor before her time on Atlantis, so she ought to have been able to step right into the rhythm of things. She was pretty good at comforting a sniffly Marine, what with her sweet smile and soft hands. She was less good at handling a whiny Rodney, a determined-to-escape Sheppard, or an unable-to-stop-working Lorne. Where Carson had stepped into the chaos, gazed skyward and uttered a prayer or a why? or a here we go again, Jennifer was...nervous. Anxious. Am I doing this right? Do you want to try it another way? What do you think about - ?
Marie appreciated being listened to. But Marie and Jennifer had worked in the same infirmary for six months. Jennifer knew how things worked. She could change them if she wanted, but she didn’t seem to know what she wanted.
And then Ronon started showing up to the infirmary a lot more, for a lot less serious injuries than before - a cut while sparring, bruises from grappling with a Wraith, possible heat stroke while trekking a dangerous planet - and Marie could quietly go on her and get things done.
One day, Jennifer would fall in line. Just like Carson had.
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