Promptathon 2014

[sugar-fey.livejournal.com]

The Good Ship C/N Promptathon
of Magic and Joy: Round 3


Break out the confetti canons!!

RULES ON POSTING SUBMISSIONS
(please read before you post! <3)


The Rules. Just follow these three easy steps!

1. Leave a Prompt.
Prompts can be anything--simple or elaborate, words or pictures, songs or poems, lyrics or phrases. Anything that, to you, inspires a C/N fanwork. Use your imagination. Go WILD. All we ask is that you place anything NSFW under a cut or link, use trigger warnings when appropriate, and place anything spoiler-y under a cut with a warning. As this is a Clint/Natasha promptathon, your prompts and fanworks can include other characters, but the central focus must be on Clint and/or Natasha. If you’re posting large images, please be mindful of members with slower Internet connections and place the image under a cut or link.

And leave as many prompts as you want. I’m serious. Keep coming back, y’all. We want all the prompts we can possibly get Also, be sure to leave each prompt as a separate comment.

2. Wait a week.
Keep leaving prompts and plan your fanworks! This is a time for celebration and creating all of the things. Work hard, shippers.

3. Submit C/N fanwork like there is no tomorrow.
All submissions should either be posted here or linked to this post via a comment. We will make an official post about rules in the time leading up to submissions. Please read it before posting, as responsible partying is to be encouraged at all times.

Timeline

Prompting starts today, August 2^nd and will remain open until August 9^th. Submissions will start on August 16^th, and will remain open until August 31^st.  It is, in fact, A WHOLE MONTH OF PROMPTATHON.

If you can’t complete your fanwork by August 31^st, that’s okay. You’re still welcome to post your fanwork to the community! However, the promptathon masterlist will only include fanworks from August 16-31.

What we hope to accomplish with all this promptathon-iness:

• A chance to get in the game. Been wanting to jump into the C/N fanwork scene but not sure where to start? Now’s the time. There’s no length requirement on the works submitted, you can focus on drabbles and vidlets and short and sweet projects (or do longer more epic stuff if that strikes your fancy as well).  It’s really entirely up to you. We’re just hoping to provide a fun, no-pressure environment. If all you want to do is post prompts and share in the squee, that’s fine too!

• Meet new and awesome people. Newbie or lurker? Here is the perfect opportunity to say hello!

• Ship like you’ve never shipped before.

If you have any questions, feel free to contact the mod team.

Have fun, everyone. Now fly, my pretties, fly!

SUBMISSIONS ARE NOW CLOSED.

Thanks to everyone who participated!

Comments

fic: nighthawks, g, no warnings

[sweetwatersong.livejournal.com]

She's just saving up enough money to make it through evening school, serving platters of pancakes and endless cups of coffee in the brightly lit diner that's trying too hard to mimic that Edward Hopper painting. Her arms are too slender, her waist too small, the apron cinched tight around her hips as the drivers talk to and about the girl behind the counter. She scrubs her knuckles raw somewhere past 3 AM, waiting for the sunrise to come up through the windows.

He was born for the corn fields that roll by his truck door, mile after mile of waving green and gold that kids laugh and run and hide in. There's not that much he needs to hide from now, with his family history past and buried and noted in small type in the local newspaper, but he keeps moving across the long expanse of the U.S. of A because it's in his bones by now, it's a habit that's too hard to break.

The cab pulls into the nearly-empty parking lot, one of many anonymous trucks until the paint flashes gold and purple under fluorescent lights. She spots its distinctive flair and has a cup of coffee waiting for him when he arrives. He sits down at the counter, folding his arms on the polished wood with familiar creases under his eyes.

"What's the pie today?" He asks although the answer's on display in glass cases beside his elbows.

"Coconut and peach," she replies, the threadbare rag she's been using piled in on itself beside her hands.

"A slice of peach, and maybe some whipped cream?"

"Coming right up."

They speak in smiles and subtext, find pleasure in seeing each other again and comfort in a familiar face. She dishes up the pie as requested, her red hair gleaming in its waves; he sips his coffee and continues the small talk, making light of everything and nothing. She wonders what it would be like to hop in his cab and let him take her away from here; he wonders if he could ever build a house with his own hands for her, safe and warm and somewhere to settle into.

One can't leave, one can't stay - but for a little while, the stars dancing beyond the streetlights, they can share this place where their paths meet.

Re: fic: nighthawks, g, no warnings

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

*sighs*

Re: fic: nighthawks, g, no warnings

[sweetwatersong.livejournal.com]

Pie? Pie makes everything better. ;)

Re: fic: nighthawks, g, no warnings

[scribblemyname]

I love this little ficlet and all the implications buried between the lines. I especially love how you portray their connection in so few words and the things they dream.

Re: fic: nighthawks, g, no warnings

[sweetwatersong.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I wanted to try and say enough without saying much, breaking those old vignette muscles back in that I've long neglected. Just a passing, momentary thing, in the way that their interactions must be - but connecting and stretching onwards, as their relationship-of-a-sort does. :)