In your own space, create a fanwork. Make a drabble, a ficlet, a podfic, or an icon, art or meta or a rec list. Arts and crafts. Draft a critical essay about a particular media. Put together a picspam or a fanmix. Write a review of a Broadway show, a movie, a concert, a poetry reading, a museum trip, a you-should-be-listening-to-this-band essay. Compose some limericks, haikus, free-form poetry, 5-word stories. Document a particular bit of real person canon. Take some pictures. Draw a stick-figure comic. Create something. Leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.
Drabbles! Much thanks to carlyinrome, kita0610, egelantier, evil_little_dog, and ragnarok_08 for their prompts. Drabbles filling each request are listed below in the same order.
Pepper still didn’t think that taking off their makeup and wearing cheap coats counted as a disguise, but she had to admit it was working. Natasha boldly met the eyes of every gas station attendant, waiter, and hotel receptionist, and so far they had heard nary a “Haven’t I seen you on the news…?” from anyone.
“Spy magic,” Pepper concluded as they unloaded bags from the Subaru.
Natasha shrugged. “People see what they expect to see. What does Tony do when he’s laying low?”
“If he had ever tried to, maybe he wouldn’t need us coming to his rescue now.”
Buffy clutched Angel’s arm and pointed across the lavishly decorated room to a knot of guests around the entrance. “Is that him? Oh my God. Do I look okay?”
“Buffy, he’s my son, not your date. And you look amazing.”
“That’s my point! Am I sexy amazing, or appropriately mature role model amazing?”
It was too late for him to answer. Connor weaved through the crowd, hand already extended to shake Buffy’s. “So glad to finally meet you,” he gushed. “Can I get a letter of recommendation? There’s this internship and I need three, from professional adults, so Angel’s useless.”
They were real horses, as the black cloaks were real cloaks. They were bred for ferocity and night-dark coats, but they were horses. They were born among monsters and trained by the damned, but they were real.
Black Riders inspired dread in all creatures who could sense the stain they made against a good and green world. Their mounts feared them too, but only as any horse fears any cruel master.
The Nazgul rejected earthbound mounts, at the end, so the herd’s survivors were forgotten. Daylight struck, and velvety black muzzles found new pastures. They had nothing left to fear.
“If I say yes, is it selling out?” Willow asked.
Buffy frowned. “Selling out isn’t in my top concerns. Do you want to say yes?”
“Well...the money is really good.”
In the end, she agreed to an interview under the condition that Buffy would be flown out with her for it. Two hours after the initial introductions, they were heading home, arguing.
“Next time you bring up our history with evil technology, you can leave out Moloch,” Willow snapped.
“Ted and April didn’t impress him enough,” Buffy countered. “Trust me. Stark’s on the road to killer robots.”
It wasn’t just that she was a female warrior. Buffy had tossed her the Scythe as a last resort in the heat of battle, and she handled it as if born to it; if anything, reluctant to give it back once they were safe.
So Buffy had to ask. “Are you a Slayer?”
No hesitation: “Yes. When I must be.”
“I meant...I have these powers because I was Chosen, and I’m wondering if that’s not just a human thing. Do you have maybe dreams that guide you?”
The green woman shook her head. “Guidance would make it easier, though.”
Bonus drabbles for carlyinrome and evil_little_dog:
While the park was active, the smaller species had been the ones least publicized, and most likely to be skipped by rushing visitors. Now they were the ones with the fewest legal hurdles, and to Owen’s amazement, Claire had managed to privately purchase an Archaeopteryx and obtain permission to remove her from the island.
“They’re euthanizing most of the others,” she said bitterly as he stroked the creature’s colorful feathers, mesmerized. “No overlap between qualified caretakers and wealthy ones.”
“Are we qualified?” he asked.
The dinosaur butted his hand, catlike. He grinned. “Maybe. But she’ll always be yours.”
“And we turn out to have three classes together? Dawn, this is destiny.”
She jerked away, although he hadn’t touched her or stepped closer. “The hell?! Don’t talk destiny. I haven’t even decided if I’m attracted to you!”
Connor flapped his hands expressively. “Nonono! It’s destiny that we figured out who we are before our families did! We can blow their minds! Prank them! Just think about it!”
A very slow smile of disbelief traveled onto Dawn’s face. “That...could be fun,” she admitted.
“Ha! Right?” He held out his fist for a bump, then continued cheerily, “Are you, though?”
Also, check out this thread for ELD's continuation of the first one I wrote for her!