On Prompts and Fiction

Jun. 3rd, 2015 01:09 pm
scribblemyname: (raining story and song)
[personal profile] scribblemyname
So I've a friend in need of prompts and I collect prompts like candy, even getting a ton of fic written to them besides being chronically behind.

So. Throw in prompts, write to prompts, comment on prompts, whatever pleases you.

  1. Canon (fandom or original)

  2. Character and/or pairing (optional)

  3. Prompt (can be text or image - detailed as you want)





PROMPT MASTERLIST



Text Prompts

Other Prompts

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Date: 2015-06-04 01:52 pm (UTC)
scribblemyname: (Default)
From: [personal profile] scribblemyname
The one where they've grown up best friends and everybody but them realizes they're practically together

Date: 2015-06-04 05:48 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I like that one. It goes well with a couple pairs I already know. Or that one you wrote about with the rain and running.

Date: 2015-06-04 06:07 pm (UTC)
scribblemyname: (Default)
From: [personal profile] scribblemyname
True. I still like that little story.

Date: 2015-06-08 11:55 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I considered doing a different pair (could have been either of two) since I'm not sure that this story/pair is going to go there, but Dillon/Larina kept having a conversation about inevitability ("Do you think it was inevitable?" "Which one? Us getting together or us breaking up?") and they were kind of the opposite, where they were able to keep their relationship a secret for a while and knew before everyone else.

So this is what I ended up with.


“They ought to have a chaperone.”

Whistler drew in a breath. “Propriety would demand it, but you will have a hard time convincing them of that. Indeed, I think you would even have a hard time convincing Stratford of the ncesssity of it, and he is supposed to be the most observant man around.”

“Being the law does not make him that, nor does it make him unbiased. He may not even want to see it. He was not quite old enough to be Dare's father when he brought him home, but he has taken on that role. He is not prepared for the idea of his son being of an age where children of his own are possible,” Edith said, her brow furrowed in concern. “There are times when I wonder if perhaps I am wrong about it, if it all something we imagine we see or simply the dictates of our customs that make me concerned. Perhaps there is nothing more than friendship there, nothing but what they have always shared.”

Whistler considered the pair over by the trees. His wife's suggestion would seem at odds with what the two of them were doing—if he was not mistaken, Dare was in the process of teaching Cadence the same tenets of swordplay as had been instructed to him by Stratford. Such a thing would not be considered romantic by most standards—and certainly not proper. It would suggest, once again, that Dare had little comprehension of the fact that his friend was female and that it made any sort of difference in how they acted or how the world saw them.

“I do not know. With Dare, it is difficult to be certain,” Whistler said. He shook his head. “It would be a difficult match—her father would never approve, and society would not be very accepting of it, either. He may be the adopted son of baronet, but that is not the same as the daughter of an earl. Very few could forget the way he was found or forgive his foreign origin.”

Edith sighed. “Why does it matter where he came from? The measure of a man is not found in where he was born but in what he does and what he will do in the future. He is a beautiful soul, gifted and kind.”

Whistler put an arm around her waist. “I do not know that we should worry about anything just yet. As we both admit, we do not know that there is anything to this.”
He watched as Dare pressed the advantage he had—years of training and nights of apprehending bandits gave him easy dominance in their fight—to knock the wooden blade from her hand. Unbalanced, she stumbled backward and fell, landing with a very unladylike curse. Dare smiled at her, and she glared back at him. She turned, twisting so she could leverage her legs around his and force him to the ground. Surprised, he fell forward, almost directly on top of her, and she laughed.
He gave her a strange sort of half-smile—part pride, part something else—as he reached to brush back her hair, fingers lingering in her curls. “Better. You are learning.”

Cadence grinned back at him. Neither of them seemed all that intent on moving or continuing their lesson.

“They need a chaperone,” Whistler and Edith said at the same time.

Date: 2015-06-16 06:17 pm (UTC)
scribblemyname: (Default)
From: [personal profile] scribblemyname
:giggles: Well done. Love the image and line it ended on.

Date: 2015-06-17 01:27 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
:) Thanks. This one was kind of fun. They do need a chaperone.

Might Need Something 1/1

Date: 2015-06-08 11:58 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I considered doing a different pair (could have been either of two) since I'm not sure that this story/pair is going to go there, but Dillon/Larina kept having a conversation about inevitability ("Do you think it was inevitable?" "Which one? Us getting together or us breaking up?") and they were kind of the opposite, where they were able to keep their relationship a secret for a while and knew before everyone else.

So this is what I ended up with.


“They ought to have a chaperone.”

Whistler drew in a breath. “Propriety would demand it, but you will have a hard time convincing them of that. Indeed, I think you would even have a hard time convincing Stratford of the ncesssity of it, and he is supposed to be the most observant man around.”

“Being the law does not make him that, nor does it make him unbiased. He may not even want to see it. He was not quite old enough to be Dare's father when he brought him home, but he has taken on that role. He is not prepared for the idea of his son being of an age where children of his own are possible,” Edith said, her brow furrowed in concern. “There are times when I wonder if perhaps I am wrong about it, if it all something we imagine we see or simply the dictates of our customs that make me concerned. Perhaps there is nothing more than friendship there, nothing but what they have always shared.”

Whistler considered the pair over by the trees. His wife's suggestion would seem at odds with what the two of them were doing—if he was not mistaken, Dare was in the process of teaching Cadence the same tenets of swordplay as had been instructed to him by Stratford. Such a thing would not be considered romantic by most standards—and certainly not proper. It would suggest, once again, that Dare had little comprehension of the fact that his friend was female and that it made any sort of difference in how they acted or how the world saw them.

“I do not know. With Dare, it is difficult to be certain,” Whistler said. He shook his head. “It would be a difficult match—her father would never approve, and society would not be very accepting of it, either. He may be the adopted son of baronet, but that is not the same as the daughter of an earl. Very few could forget the way he was found or forgive his foreign origin.”

Edith sighed. “Why does it matter where he came from? The measure of a man is not found in where he was born but in what he does and what he will do in the future. He is a beautiful soul, gifted and kind.”

Whistler put an arm around her waist. “I do not know that we should worry about anything just yet. As we both admit, we do not know that there is anything to this.”
He watched as Dare pressed the advantage he had—years of training and nights of apprehending bandits gave him easy dominance in their fight—to knock the wooden blade from her hand. Unbalanced, she stumbled backward and fell, landing with a very unladylike curse. Dare smiled at her, and she glared back at him. She turned, twisting so she could leverage her legs around his and force him to the ground. Surprised, he fell forward, almost directly on top of her, and she laughed.
He gave her a strange sort of half-smile—part pride, part something else—as he reached to brush back her hair, fingers lingering in her curls. “Better. You are learning.”

Cadence grinned back at him. Neither of them seemed all that intent on moving or continuing their lesson.

“They need a chaperone,” Whistler and Edith said at the same time.
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