Saturday Free for All

[simplyn2deep.livejournal.com]

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 fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.

No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.

If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.

If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!

Check out Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 1 (not very current), Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 2, or the Calendar Archives, or for more recent prompts, you can use LJ's advanced search options to find prompts to request and/or fill.

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

Have fun!

Comments

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, (781): I was just told by a cop that my party was the most epic party they ever crashed

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Any, Any,
(915): I told you I was good to drive
(1-915): dumbass I drove... you sat in the passengers seat and steered with a paper plate

Closing Time | Brenda/Sharon, The Closer 'Verse | PG-13

[madampresident.livejournal.com]

"I told you I was good to drive." Sharon stumbled into her apartment, forgetting the keys in the door and almost breaking the heels off both pumps due to missteps.

Brenda scoffed a laugh. "I drove, Captain." She pulled Sharon's keys out of the lock and set them on the entryway table.

"...you did?" Sharon scrunched up her face. "But I remember driving?"

This time Brenda smiled. "You sat in the passengers seat and steered with a paper plate."

"Oh..." Sharon looked down at her hands. "That plate was greasy."

"Hey, you call me up in the middle of the night, drag me back downtown to pick your drunk behind up from a bar. You're gonna give me a hard time about bringing my dinner with me?"

Sharon rubbed the palms of her hands on the torso of her blazer.

"I should file a complaint against the bartender that kept serving you." Brenda snorted. "You good from here?"

"Yup." Sharon started to unbutton her blazer, missing the buttons multiple times before giving it a tug and pulling it open.

Brenda put her hand on the doorknob and turned to leave. She could hear Sharon’s unsteady footsteps inside and her conscience tugged on her. Brenda let out a loud groan.

“Come on.” She sighed, taking Sharon gently by the arm. “Let’s get you into bed. The last thing I need is to hear in a month that you tripped and broke your neck or aspirated in your own vomit.”

“Yuck.” Sharon frowned.

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Stargate Multiverse, Any, Satisfied (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2R3a37uuXY).

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Stargate: Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, The nerdiest gift they've ever given to the other.

Fill 1/2

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

“You refused to tell me when your birthday was, out of some misguided sense of Heathcliff brooding heroism,” Rodney said, “so I made you a birthday present and we’re celebrating your birthday whether you like it or not.” He held out the artfully-wrapped box.

John stared at it. “You - what?”

“You’re having a birthday party. Major Lorne arranged it. There’s cake and balloons and everything.”

John narrowed his eyes. “You shanghaied my 2IC?”

“He gets things done.”

“That he does.” John reached up and tapped his radio. “Lorne, where are you and what are you doing?”


“I’m in the mess hall waiting for you, as Dr. McKay requested.” Lorne sounded as polite and obedient as ever, not a hint of his insubordination in his tone. “ETA, sir?”

“We’ll be right there.” John accepted the box from Rodney - he was pretty sure Lorne had wrapped it - and headed for the nearest transporter. “Thanks, Rodney.”

“I could have hacked into your personnel file, but that seemed intrusive.” Rodney trotted after him.

“Lucky for you, Lorne has probably seen my personnel file, so...today is actually my birthday. Well, it would be, on Earth.”

Rodney lit up. “Really? I mean, great!”

The transporter opened to the main communal level, where the mess hall and most of the communal socializing rooms were located. John headed for the mess hall, which had its doors closed. That wasn’t suspicious at all.

John pushed the door open, and just about everyone on Atlantis yelled, “Surprise!”

John stared. Rodney hadn’t been kidding. There was a net full of balloons strung up against the ceiling, and someone loosed it, and balloons of all colors and shapes and sizes came floating downward. Everyone was wearing actual party hats, the shiny conical kind, and there was a cake. It was tall and tiered and looked more like a wedding cake, with delicate white and blue frosting and little fondant stargates all along the bottom. The cake was topped with a fondant puddle jumper.

Happy Birthday John! Was written along the middle tier of the cake in delicate cursing and black frosting. How the hell had Lorne found fondant and frosting in Pegasus?

“Happy Birthday, sir,” Lorne said. He offered John a knife and a small plate. “Would you like to cut the first slice?”

John wanted to open the box Rodney had given him, but then one of the Marines said, in a tone usually reserved for pointing out attractive women spotted after a long deployment in a remote place,

“It’s chocolate cake, sir, with layers of strawberry, raspberry, coconut, and vanilla.”

The other Marines were gazing at the cake dreamily, so John handed the box to Teyla, who accepted it graciously, and cut into the cake.

Once all of the Marines - and a good share of scientists - were feasting on cake, John went back to the box, which Rodney had hovered over anxiously, refusing cake despite Lorne’s repeated assurances that it was citrus-free.

[aivix.livejournal.com]

MCU, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, "To those two, even snack food is a weapon."

No fill

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

I am now picturing Clint using doritos like ninja flying stars LOL

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, weechesters, anything adorably cute

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any fandom, AU, Romeo and Juliet as if told with an M/M pair

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, What if I told you time was slippin’ away? Our love, our secrets we've been keeping even all our mistakes & even all our love; forever's not enough. (Soren Bryce/Forever’s not enough)

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any (or any/any), TFLN; winter is not my friend! I wanna bitch slap that old man!

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, You only want me when the lights low. Now that your drinking will you say you need me? You only touch me with the door closed. I get you off and then your gone gone gone
You only want me when the lights low…(Lights low, by RKCB)

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Star Trek Enterprise, Trip Tucker + Malcolm Reed, bickering

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Dragon Age, anypair, Hold me now
Don't cry
Don't say a word just...
Hold me now...
And I...will know though we're apart
We'll always be together
Forever in love...
What do you say when words are not enough? Johnny Logan, Hold Me Now

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Dragon Age, Hawke (M or F) & Varric, This (http://holyshitdragonage.tumblr.com/post/155121261396/incorrectdragonage-varric-i-have-feelings-for) (Platonic friendships mean a lot to me, okay?)

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Leverage, author's choice, shenanigans

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any sci-fi, any, dealing with a typical D&D/Tolkien Fantasy type situation/world (and getting unreasonably excited by the thought of dragons)

[tigriswolf]

Author’s choice, author’s choice, sometimes victory feels like loss

Fill: Game of Thrones, Daenerys (spoilers up to 7x06)

[drabblewriter.livejournal.com]

As Daenerys sits beside Jon Snow's bed looking down at the still living and breathing self-proclaimed King in the North, she has to keep convincing herself that this was a victory. The raiding party successfully captured a wight to show as proof in King's Landing. Jon Snow is alive. Jorah, so recently returned to her, is alive.

And yet Viserion is not. She squeezes her eyes closed, but of course that can't erase the awful image that plays over and over in her mind. Her son, struck, and plunging from the sky. Disappearing beneath the ice.

Ice – that's how her heart feels. There's a cold hole there where her lost child was so recently. And amidst the grief: cold logic. Her children, her symbols and greatest weapons, aren't invincible. She'd known it, of course, logically, but to see it happen...

She shakes her head. Everyone understands her grief, she knows, but they also know as well as she that things must continue apace. The meeting with Cersei Lannister must be arranged, the truce must be pushed through, the war against the dead won. A mother's grief can never trump those things, painful as it may be.

Beside her, Jon Snow stirs, and she tries to school her features, preparing to face him.

[tigriswolf]

author's choice, author's choice, don't fear the villain - fear the hero

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Twelve or Ten+any, pockets

Fill. Doctor Who, Tenth Doctor+Rose.

[aivix.livejournal.com]

The yell came from deep in the closet, followed by several shouts of, “Rose! Rose!”

With a sigh, she dragged herself away from the breakfast the TARDIS had only just laid out for her and wandered through the corridors toward the continued calls.

(Did he think she hadn't heard him? Honestly?)

She entered the room with an annoyed, “Oi, what is it?”

“Have you seen my pockets?”

“The ones in your coat?”

He glanced down, first on the left, then on the right, and then back at her. “They are nice pockets, but no, my other pockets.”

“Doctor,” she started, glancing meaningfully between him and the vast interior of the closet.

“Rose, these are important pockets!”

She muttered something to herself before asking, “All right, what do these pockets look like?”

“They're pockets. About this big,” he held his hands a good distance apart, seemed to think it over, then pulled them closer together, “and there's a box inside one.”

“A box?”

“Yes, a hinged box..”

“A hinged box. All right. Do you remember what clothing these pockets are attached to?”

He looked around, then seemed to contemplate the question. Finally, he announced, “I was wearing a suit. The one with the brown pinstripes.”

Should have assumed that. He only wears the two bloody suits, she thought. “Well, you wore it on our last trip to Raxacoricofallapatorius and it got a bit messy. Maybe it's still in the wash?”

“The TARDIS insists that it's here.”

Helpful that. There absolutely weren't a good few dozen places in the closet a suit like that could be hiding, or, rather, be hidden if the TARDIS was being playful. (She was.) This was going to take hours.

“I'll start over here,” she sighed.

(The Doctor crept from the room once Rose was quietly flicking through a collection of suits and morning coats, telling the TARDIS to pad his steps as he went. He did not need her following him, not this time; he locked the closet behind him, hand clutched around the snappy little box in his pocket.

She would be safe while he dealt with the invader.)

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Doctor Strange(any media), Stephen Strange+/ any or Gen, office AU

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

The Hour, any+/any, working over the Christmas holiday

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay,

Hold
Hold on
Hold on to me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
(X Ambassadors)

Fill 1/2 McShep, Oppie, outside POV

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

One thing no one under the Mountain enjoyed was Rodney McKay’s diva attitude. It was a universally-recognized truth, that Rodney McKay’s only intellectual peer was Samantha Carter, but the way he laid into people when they didn’t meet his standards was aggravating. Yes, when it was a life-or-death situation, incompetence was unacceptable, but when things were tense, yelling didn’t help.

Naomi had never been on Rodney’s side, though. Not like this. But she and John walked shoulder-to-shoulder with him when he swept into the hospital and unleashed Hurricane McKay in the ER.

“I need to speak to whoever is in charge of the medical care for Cameron Mitchell, Tyler Mitchell, Evan Lorne, and Jonathan Nealson.” Rodney marched straight up to the desk.

The nurse looked at him, unimpressed.

Rodney said, “It’s a matter of national security.”

The nurse continued to look unimpressed.

Rodney said, “I am listed as their next of kin.”

The nurse pushed a clipboard across the desk. “Fill this out -”

“I am not the one with a medical emergency. I need to find my family and I need to find them now.” Rodney pushed his driver’s license across the desk.

“Fill this out first -”

Rodney reached into his pocket, fished out his cellphone, and unlocked it with a swipe of his thumb. “Get me Naoe. Yes, I know it’s the middle of the night. He’s awake. Trust me. Yes, it’s an emergency. Major Mitchell, Major Lorne, JD, and Tyler - yes, thank you.”

The nurse tapped the clipboard with a pen pointedly.

Naomi glanced at John, who shrugged. Woolsey’s expression was dangerously blank, contemplative. He was taking everything in, mind working at a mile a minute, analyzing and making conclusions. He was like a soldier getting ready to step into battle.

Rodney leaned across the desk. “Yes, Naoe, so glad you live up to the stereotypes of over-caffeinated gamers. I need you to hack into the system at Memorial Hospital in Topeka, Kansas and tell me what’s going on with the Mitchells, Lorne, and JD. Yes, I will buy you a twelve-pack of those fiendish energy drinks. All right. We will start in the ER. You’re the best.” Rodney pocketed his cellphone and nodded at Naomi. “Let’s go.”

“Sir, you can’t -”

“Yes I can.” Rodney swept toward the double-doors that led into the ER.

Naomi followed. She kept her posture textbook officer, walking along with John and Woolsey behind Rodney.

She stepped back and let him and Woolsey let loose on the police officers and detectives who had JD cuffed to a bed. Once Woolsey had things with the police in hand with JD, it was time to check on the others.

First stop: Tyler. Who was sitting in a random recovery room on a random floor. He was blinking sleepily, trying to keep himself awake.

He was on his feet as soon as he saw them. It broke Naomi’s heart, to see his bruised face. He flung himself into Rodney’s arms, and Rodney held him so, so tightly for a moment. Then Rodney kissed him on the forehead and stepped back.

“Stay with John,” he said.

“Where’s Cammie and JD?”

“JD will be fine. We’re going to find Cammie next.”

John pulled Tyler close, wrapped an arm around him, held him close. Tyler clung to him while they headed for the elevators.

A nurse in blue scrubs paused. “Hey, where are you going?”

“He’s going to see his father,” Rodney said. “Up in the ICU.”

“But you haven’t been discharged,” the young man protested.

Rodney rolled his eyes. “He’s not leaving hospital property. He’s just going to visit another patient.”

Naomi led the way up to the ICU. Dr. Lynn was Cam’s treating physician, and she said he was stable enough for visitors, but not many, only briefly. Rodney managed to convince her to let Tyler stay with his father. John stayed with him.

Rodney and John exchanged significant looks. Vala was on her way.

Now to find Evan.

Evan was in a locked psych ward. Violent PTSD episode, attacked a police officer, needed to be sedated.

Dr. Zabriskie reported that Evan had been hallucinating.

“About what?” Rodney asked.

“That’s confidential.” Zabriskie pressed her lips into a thin line.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Tony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs, caught outside on a cold, blustery day

Fill. NCIS, Jethro Gibbs/Tony DiNozzo. Canon AU.

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Tony had barely been out of the hospital when they lost Kate, when Jethro got twisted up in his rage, but he still, like the brave soldier (he thought) he'd never been made to be, got through the days and nights.

Through the anger spoiling on the other side of the bed.

It wasn't easy, in all honesty. In fact, trying to keep up with the Boss at work and Jethro at home and his body trying and failing amid it all was agony some days, and he'd taken to retreating to the basement now and then for a five minute nap. Ducky and Abby were more than willing to hide him after all: Ducky would cluck unhappily at the situation, Abby would supply him with Bert and a black and silver blanket knitted with protective sigils.

So it was understandable when they were called to the backwoods of Virginia for a case and trudging through the heavy, wet snow sapped him of oxygen and energy both.

He woke up in the back of Ducky's truck with Jimmy keeping the oxygen mask firmly over Tony's face like one of their lives depended on it—Tony wasn't sure if it was his life or Jimmy's, given how Ducky looked at that moment.

“Anyone get the number of the truck?”

“The only thing that hit you, dear boy, was the ground.” Ducky was not pleased. “It would appear that your body has given into the inevitable.”

“I'm all right.”

The noise that Gibbs made was somewhere between infuriated and derisive; Tony grunted as he tried to get up, firmly pushed back to the bed as he began to sputter and cough, hacking hard. It took several minutes for the attack to clear, Tony gradually realizing that Jethro was sitting next to him and murmuring, “I'm good, Boss.”

“No. You're not.” He was tense, but his whole posture still screamed guilt, and he asked, “Were you planning on mentioning this to me at some point?”

Was Tony planning on admitting he was scarcely proficient to be an agent for the time being? The answer was no, he was not. Not because he was worried about his job or thought he had to hide it, but because Ari was still lose in the world and there was no way in hell that Tony was leaving Gibbs without backup.

His silence told Gibbs all that and more.

He admitted, “Director's sending Paula and her team up to take over,” then, “You're going to a hospital to get checked out.”

“Boss, I'm fine.” It was almost a whine, but it got Jethro to pull a face at him and swing a hand out, gesturing to Tony to go ahead and walk if he wanted. Only he got lightheaded when he got to his feet and found himself back on the bed with a groan, saying, “Okay, I'm not perfectly fine, but just because I'm down doesn't mean you have to give up the case...”

“Tony.”

“Boss?”

“Stop.”

There was so much underlying that, so much Tony could hear in Jethro's voice, and he pulled back a bit to look at his partner squarely. No, there was no room to argue tonight, not with the way Jethro looked, like someone had ripped out his heart and shown it to him.

(Someone had: Ducky.

“You and your stubborn sense of justice, as if what you are trying to accomplish is anything more than simple revenge.

“I understand it, Jethro. I even condone it for our Kaitlyn, but had you taken your eyes from that hunt and actually looked at him... Anthony raced himself to re-certify so he could be at your side for all of this when he should have been home resting.”

“I didn't tell him he had to be back at the desk so soon, Duck.”

“Did you tell him he shouldn't be?”)

Tony nodded, watching as Jethro slid his hand over the blanket and tucked it in, and told him, “Got it, Jethro.”

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any m/m, first kiss on New Year's Eve

Fill: SGA/MCU, surprise!

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

This was it. Altantis's first year as an independent nation. They were celebrating New Year's Eve not based on Earth's calendar but based on New Lantea's, counting from the day the astronomers and meteorologists estimated was mid-winter on the planet (thought winters on New Lantea were very mild indeed). Evan had gone all-out, getting the chemists to build fireworks, the engineers to rig up a ball to drop, and the rest of the scientists - who consumed the most paper - to make paper confetti to spill at midnight.

Some of the Marines had, in their spare time, formed a band, and there was music spilling from the various dance floors that had been created from the mess hall and other communal gathering areas.

Evan and his hand-picked team of KP Marines had been making snacks for days and days on end, and one chemist had lent his talents to some of the linguists to get them distilling booze and also making homemade root beer.

It was the party to end all parties. Atlantis's first New Year celebration.

It was mere minutes to midnight, and Evan was exhausted. He wanted to go back to his quarters and fell asleep, sleep for two whole days and wake up after the clean-up was done (Teldy was supervising; Evan had drawn up a duty roster in advance). No one would notice if he was missing anyway.

And with the new year they were finally going to start about actual immigration, and Evan was going to try to convince his family to move out there. Maybe even the whole commune. Atlantis would feel like home if he didn't feel so alone, didn't feel so -

People were counting down. Already? Evan glanced at his watch. Already.

Maybe he'd find a spot along one of the balconies and at least watch the fireworks. Apparently with naquadah and some of its variants, the chemists could make fireworks in colors never before seen on Earth. Evan always had appreciated a good show of color.

Instead of trying to push through the partiers, he ducked through the kitchens to a place he knew would be deserted, out in the open air. He leaned against the balcony and tipped his head back, watching, waiting, listening.

Five, four, three, two -

Hands caught his waist, spun him around.

Evan cried out in surprise, but then he was being kissed, gently and thoroughly, firm hands at his waist, one of those hands warm metal.

He knew this kiss, this softness, this taste, melted into it instinctively.

Bucky.

Bucky?

Evan opened his eyes, jerked back. "Bucky, what the hell are you -?"

And then there were hands on his shoulders, spinning him around, and he was being kissed, as softly and thoroughly as Bucky, only -

Evan pulled back again, panting, confused.

Steve stood over him, smiling sadly. "Happy New Year, Evan."

"What -?"

"Thank you," Steve said. "For everything." He leaned in and kissed Evan on the cheek. "Hope you find love in the new year."

Bucky kissed him on the cheek as well, and then he and Steve vanished into the shadows.

Fireworks exploded overhead, and Evan spun to stare at them.

They really were unlike anything he'd seen on Earth.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Multiverse, Any, Scooby Doo AU

[withasmile87.livejournal.com]

any, any, New Years Eve kiss.

Fill : The Flash, Joe/Caitlin

[helsinkibaby.livejournal.com]

Midnight on New Year's Eve finds them not all dolled up in some fancy restaurant but at STAR Labs. Joe's glowering at Wally for taking unnecessary risks while Caitlin stitches up a cut on Cisco's forehead, her lips pursed in equal disapproval.

Both jump when HR bursts into a countdown and Joe grins across the room at her as their eyes meet.

By the time HR launches into "Auld Lang Syne," she's in his arms, smiling into his kiss as the rest of the world fade away.

It's not the evening they planned, but it's them, and that matters more.