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#drabbleathon
iffeelscouldkill · 3 months
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Fic: Growing Things
Fandom: The Strange Case of Starship Iris Wordcount: 100 Summary: How Arkady began growing things. Pre-canon.
I was delighted to recently stumble across the Small Fandoms drabbleathon, which is a drabble fest for small fandoms that runs throughout February!
I asked some friends for prompts and my friend prompted me with "Moist" (thanks XD), which stumped me for a bit until I thought about moist earth and then remembered that I've been meaning to write a fic about Arkady and growing things f o r e v e r.
And so...
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Moist earth clings to Arkady's fingertips. She looks at it and wonders what the hell she's doing.
The miniature greenhouse sits in a disused storeroom the guards never check. She'd been marvelling at the bright green shoots when the organiser there asked if she'd like to plant something.
The seeds are in the soil now, but Arkady doesn't believe it'll do anything. Plants don't grow just like that. Not here.
It's ten days before she cracks, sneaks back to the storeroom.
There'll be nothing to see.
Except -
Poking through the dents left by Arkady's fingers are tiny, brand-new growing things.
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theirishmanronan · 4 years
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What If-
Trigger warning: Suicide mentioned.
What if Ronans mom had never committed suicide, therefore he never moved to New York, and he never met Juliet.
“And I’d choose you, in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, i’d find you and i’d choose you.”
His eyes peek open, the morning sun causing him to place his arm across his face as a shield. Rolling to sit on the edge of the bed, he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. The headache that throbbed in his head was a reminder that he’d drank far too much last night. A voice from behind him causes him to jump. “Hey you want coffee?” He is met with the face of the stranger he’d gone home with the night before. Stacey...Samantha...Did she even tell him her name? “Uh no thanks. I should get going. I was supposed to have brunch with my family today.” Grabbing his jeans he pulls them up his legs. As he button his shirt he glances at the clock and sees he is already late. “Fuck! I really gotta go...” As he attempts to get around her, she grabs his arm. “We should do this again.” Internally he rolls his eyes, externally he nods and makes his way out the door. As soon as his feet hit the sidewalk his phone starts ringing. “Hey mam..” The woman on the other end starts yelling “I know I am sorry. I am on my way... I promise I am not drunk... Ok I will see you soon.” Slipping his phone into his pocket, Ronan climbs into his beat up old car and makes his way to his family home.
“Hello...” He yells as he walks down the hallway of his childhood home. “Mam?” As he rounds the wall he is met by three pairs of eyes. Cue the judgement, his internal voice says. “Ronan, what the hell had you so consumed, that you are late? Your mam worked hard this morning and now the food is cold.” His fathers disapproval was very clear not only on his face, but in his voice. His Irish accent was always slightly thicker when he was angry. Before he can respond, his older brother Connor chimes in. “Most likely another lass from the pub. What tis this Ro, girl number 3 this week?” He could his his mams jaw drop from the corner of his eye. “Oh lord...” Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth. “What is wrong with ya? Yer not gonna find a nice girl to marry if you are just sleeping around.” Drawing in a deep breath, Ronan focuses on his food. Sitting in very uncomfortable silence for far too long. “Will the lot of ya stop staring at me? I am not some caged animal to be gawked at.” His fathers hand slams down on the table, everyone looks at him. His eyes are glued to Ronan, all he could focus on was the migraine that had now replaced the headache. “What are ya doin with yer life Ro? All ya do is play guitar at the pub, get drunk and sleep around. What is gonna happen if you get one of these random lassies pregnant? I sure am not raising no bastard...” His mams hand goes up, cutting of Finneas’ words. 
Her blue eyes meet his and Ronan can see the gentleness in them. “We just want what is best fer ya. This path you’ve chosen isn’t healthy.” Deep down he knows she is right. All he has ever wanted to do was make music. Somewhere along the way he was knocked off course. Sucked into the same routine of bad habits and shitty friends. “I gotta go. Thanks for the food mam.” He kisses her forehead and walks out to his car. 
-----------Later that night,
The pub was more crowded than on most nights. It was open mic night and several acts had shown up. He sits towards the back with his group of friends. Most of which are already three sheets to the wind. His friend Mac hands him a glass of whiskey, the only other nearly sober person in their group. Mac was Ronan’s best friend for as long as he could recall. He only came out for open mics and hardly drank. He’d gotten married just three months ago and since then he was a homebody. Truth was, Ro envied him. “So yer parents really gave ya shit today yeah!?” As he took a sip from his glass, Ro shook his head. “Yeah, scared I am going to give em a bastard for a grandchild.” Shrugging his shoulders, he rolls his eyes. “I just haven’t met anyone I would consider settling for. All the lassies around her are the same.” Macs head bobs to the beat of the music some small funk band is playing. “I mean I get it. I never thought I would settle down, until I met Becks. Lucky for me shes from London.” 
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As he finished his glass, and got a refill, he heard a bunch of hooting and hollering coming from the front end of the pub. “Whats got their trousers in a bunch?” Ro and Mac push through the crowd of people for a closer look. Sitting on a stool, just her and a microphone is a blonde. She strums the fingers of her free hand along her slender thigh as the music begins to play. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips expertly before she begins to sing. Without realizing it, Ro’s hand is against his chest, his jaw likely resting on the floor. Mac pulls his attention from her and his eyes take in the mans reaction. “Yo, you okay??” Waving his hand in front of his face and snapping his fingers to get Ronan’s attention. “Earth to Ro!” As he exhales all of the air from his lungs, her blue eyes meet his and he says, “I am going to marry that girl.”
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for-sorscha · 7 years
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Blackberry Pie (Malide Drabble)
Hello! This is the second drabble of the drabbleathon and I knew I had to write about Malide for you! If you have a ship you want to see (platonic/romantic) then let me know! This is pure fluff again so I hope you enjoy!! 
If there was one thing Manon knew about Elide, it was the girl loved to bake. And she was good at it. Manon loved trying the different pastries and sweets Elide would make and she awaited to see what the next concoction would be. Although her girlfriend was gifted at baking, Manon had some... weaknesses surrounding that activity (meaning she could not bake to save her life). 
Manon would much rather fly with her wyvern or kill a man, but when her and Elide’s one year anniversary was approaching, Manon knew she had to surprise Elide. The witch grabbed a cookbook from a shelve and placed it down on the kitchen counter, then she got out all of the supplies to make a blackberry pie which was Elide's favourite. "You can do this," Manon thought to herself, "You are feared by many and extremely talented. You'll be able to make a damn pie." So, Manon set off to work, underestimating the difficulty of the task. 
When Elide walked into the kitchen, she burst out laughing. She had just gotten home minutes ago and was surprised when she saw her girlfriend covered in flour and sugar, cursing profusely at the bowl holding ingredients. Manon looked to Elide when she heard her laughing and the witch looked down embarrassed.
"Turns out baking is harder than I thought," Manon murmured setting down the overflowing measuring cup on the counter, sighing. Elide walked over a swiped some sugar off of Manon's cheek, bringing it up to her mouth and smiling at the sweetness of it. 
"What made you decide to bake today?" Elide asked looking up at Manon. 
"I was trying to surprise you," Manon said sincerely. Elide looked over at the recipe book and smiled seeing that Manon was trying to make a blackberry pie.
"Why don't we make it together, my love?" Elide asked, hopeful. Manon nodded, handing the girl an apron. 
They made the dessert together, the afternoon was spent laughing and kissing. Elide sat on the counter as she watched the timer for the oven winding down. Manon stood in front of Elide softly kissing her neck and continuously trailing downwards. They both groaned in annoyance as the timer went off, interrupting their moment. But it wasn’t that much of a tragedy because it meant they could finally fill and decorate the pie. 
They ate the pie together and Elide laughed when Manon grumbled because she got some blackberry on her nose, which Elide wiped away quickly. As Elide looked at Manon, she was humbled by the fact that she felt safe, loved and happy with her girlfriend. As Manon looked at Elide, she knew that she was lucky to have the Elide in her life and that she would go through anything (even baking a pie) to see her smile.
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sweetme86 · 7 years
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Separation (Day 4)
Pairing: Bucky/Darcy
Word count: 991
Prompt: Separation
So... This turned out to be way more Bucky-centric than a fic for something called the FuckYeahDarcyLewis Drabble-a-thon Extravaganza should be, but I’m hoping everyone will still enjoy it :)
Charity: Fuck Cancer, because I just really hate cancer.
Separation
He leans back against the wall of his cell. The T-shirt he's wearing is sticking to his skin from trying to punch his way out but the walls just won't budge. He doesn't know exactly what his cell is made of, but it seems his captors knew exactly who would be kept in it. It wouldn't have held up if they didn't.
"Hey" He hears her say. She sounds far away yet it's like she's right there, like they're only separated by the wall he's leaning against. "We'll be okay, we'll get through this."
His legs won't hold him anymore and he lets himself slide down until he's sitting, elbows on his knees. He sees his hands tremble in front of him, puts his head in his hands so they'll stop.  
He wants to wrap her up in his arms and hold her close. The ache in his chest is nearly ripping him apart because he knows he's lost her. Even if they make it out of here, if Steve and the others can find them, he's lost her. He cannot keep up this thing they have. The only reason she's here is him.
If she hadn't been out with him.
If he could have just stayed away.
If he hadn't tried to be normal, just accepted he'd always be the Winter Soldier.
She'd be safe.
He wants to comfort her and let her know it'll be alright, but he knows it won't. He wants to talk to her, sit her down on his lap so he can warm her up – she's always cold, even at home on her couch she'll snuggle up to him to steal his warmth.  
God he's gonna miss her. He already misses her, even if there's just one wall between them. He can hear her, she's saying his name. Her voice sounds like it used to, back when they'd only just met and she'd try to coax him out of his own head. Soft and careful, yet lacking the desperation he was used to hearing from Steve. Back when he'd trip down in his memories and couldn't find his way out.
What's she doing here, she shouldn’t be here. He's struggling to get up, but the clamps over his arms are keeping him down. He's in the chair and he can taste the plastic from the mouth guard they'd shove in his mouth right before they'd wipe him. His heart starts pounding, he shouldn't be hearing her voice in here, why is she here?!
He's cold all over, the window in the cryostasis chamber is fogging up and soon he'll be frozen again. He's not used to feeling so much when he's here, but now he can feel the fear rushing through him like red hot lava. Fear for Darcy, anger that they've gotten to her. He tries to smash the window but the door is suddenly gone and the momentum of his swing has him falling to his knees.
He's on his knees next to a bed. Darcy's voice is so much closer and clearer, she's still talking to him. The shiny hardwood floor confuses him before realization hits him.  
He slumps down and leans his back against the bed, let's the heat from the fireplace wash over him and chase away the cold that's lingering in the back of his mind. Soft footsteps on the hardwood floors are coming to a stop right in front of him.  
When he opens his eyes, he's greeted with the most amazing sight. There she is, dark hair tumbling down over one of his t-shirts above pajama shorts covered in little cartoon cupcakes. She smiles at him, but he can see the worry in her eyes. "You back with me?" Her voice sounds amazing when he can actually hear it without the fog of the nightmare obscuring it.
"Yeah, I'm here" he croaks out.  
At his reassurance she kneels down next to him and he notices the wet washcloth in her hand. He lets his head fall back against the bed as she trails one hand through his hair and uses the other to wipe the washcloth over his face and neck.
Nightmares like this aren't very common anymore, and he can't say he's bothered by that. He'd rather not have them at all, but he's glad that nowadays she's right there when he wakes. The effects of the nightmares don't linger nearly as long with her chasing them away.
He's tried to talk her out of a relationship with him, often, but she always wins those arguments. Mostly he knows and accepts that she gets to choose the level of danger in her life and who she chooses to share her life with, but that doesn't mean he isn't scared. He knows that's where his nightmares come from, but he'll gladly wake up like he did just now as often as is necessary, if it means he gets to keep her.
So he relaxes against the bed, enjoys the cool washcloth as he lets his right hand reach out and brush over her thigh. Life ain't so bad, he thinks, with a girl like her by his side.
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gvbejvmes · 4 years
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Drabble-a-thon: Six, What If
Title: Behind Bars Rating: R [Gabe’s potty mouth and mentions of violence] Relationships: Vague references to Gabriel/Nancy Trigger Warnings: Mentions of gang-related violence and mentions of prison violence. A super vague reference to child abuse, but it’s blink and you miss it. Brief Summary: What if Gabriel never met Johnny?
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Long legs stretched out across his prison issue cot, back propped up against the cold, white painted brick wall. He was dying for a cigarette, but he’d been banned from yard time for three months, like it was his fault that some guy had slammed his hand in a door over and over again until it broke. Sure, other prisoners had overheard Gabe threatening to break his hand, but he wasn’t even there when his hand broke, so punishing him for doing it was bullshit. Even if he “technically” told him to. It’s not like they could prove it, but shit like this was why he hadn’t gotten parole. 
Not that he cared one way or the other these days. To be fair, he’d sort of half-assed his interview anyway. He’d been in prison eighteen years. What the fuck was he going to do on the outside? Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he instead focused on his desire for a cigarette again. If he’d known that particular incident would get him solitary for so long, he probably wouldn’t have pushed the matter. He’d already given up a shit ton in his life; he didn’t plan on giving up smoking, too.
“James.” There was a knock on his door. One of the perks of solitary was privacy. Sure, there was a big ass window so they could see into his cell, and the slot to pass him meals and books, but he was mostly left to himself, which was nice. And he’d bribed one of the guards to bring him sketchbooks, charcoal, and watercolors. So, he wasn’t actually hating solitary. It still caught him off guard when someone knocked on his cell door, which was probably the point of the door, now that he thought about it. “You got a visitor.”
He put down the book he’d been reading and turned to look at the guard in surprise. “I got a what now?” Gabriel asked in confusion, more than surprise, as he sat up properly to look at him. It had been years since he’d gotten a visitor, and he had a very strict guest list. 
There was a time when Dusty kept sending lawyers to try to talk him into appealing to have his case reopened, but that had just led to a whole lot of nothing. There was one lawyer that had seemed promising, (Jake Matthews? Jared Martin? Joshua Murdock? No… Jonathan Michaels! That was it. He was some bigwig now, apparently.), but there had been a lock down on the day he was supposed to visit, and well, the consultation never happened. 
The only people allowed to visit him were family, but they didn’t visit. Well, and Cesar, his old cell mate, but he wasn’t actually allowed to visit until his probation was up. “I don’t get visitors.”
Despite that, he allowed himself to be led out of the cell. One of the perks of being in prison for so long was that, well, he’d been in prison for so long. Inmates knew who he was, and he had a bit of a reputation, which was probably the other reason he kept getting stuck in solitary. He was so rarely not in solitary these days that he might as well consider it his own personal cell.
The only way to get to the maximum security visitors room involved taking the main corridor and walking past the mess hall, the rec room, and the commissary, which was a path Gabe was pretty sure they didn’t want him going down. As they walked and other inmates saw Gabe, they dropped to a knee, like he was prison royalty. He knew what they called him: the Queen of Cell Block B. The bizarre part was that he knew it was out of respect. 
Inmates were the biggest gossips Gabriel knew. There wasn’t a lot to do in prison, and talking? Well, that was both the smartest and dumbest pastime a prisoner could engage in, but without talk Gabe wouldn’t have the reputation he did. There was a sort of magic that came with being a guy who talked, and suddenly the people around him injured themselves so he wouldn’t do it to him. Reputations like that meant two things: 1) you had connections on the outside, 2) you had connections on the inside. Regardless, over the years Gabe’s reputation had grown into the monster it had become and prison transfers didn’t help.
It was no longer just the men from his gang, the Saviors, who knelt when he passed, not standing until he waved a hand in their direction. No, it was anyone who didn’t want to get on his bad side. It was exhilarating, but it also meant the warden didn’t necessarily want Gabe in Gen Pop, which meant that Gabe got a cushy sentence and the fear of all the men around him. Prison life was pretty good for him.
“Can you make them stop?” The guard, Simmons, asked. “It weirds me out seeing murderers bow.” He all but whined, but by the time he’d mentioned it, they were already in the visitors room.
Gabe smirked, and looked in the mirror to double-check how he looked:
Slicked back hair? Check.
Collar popped? Check.
Sleeves on his jumpsuit rolled back to show the numerous tattoos, many of which he’d done himself out of boredom? Check.
Once he was sure he looked decent, he let himself get patted down before entering the room. A part of him hoped it was one of his kids, but he didn’t have that kind of luck. His luck was pure shit. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he swaggered down the row of cubicles before stopping at the number the guard had told him. 
On the other side of the scratched Plexiglas was a young man, no older than eighteen. His brown hair was shaggy and kept falling into his eyes, and his hazel eyes made his stomach sink. Gabe was sure he’d never met this teenager before, but there was just something about him that was so fucking familiar. That was why he sat down, and picked up the phone.
“Have we met before?” Gabriel asked the kid, but when the boy didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes and nodded to the phone. A look of surprise and recognition crossed the young man’s face and he all but scrambled to pick up the phone. Once he did, Gabe repeated his question. “Have we met before?”
There was something about the boy’s face that reminded him of Georgie - the way his brow crinkled and the way he could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, sort of. I mean, you were there at my conception.” Gabe must have looked confused because the kid continued. “As soon as I turned eighteen, I petitioned to see my foster care record. My mom gave me up when I was a kid. I guess there was shady stuff going on that she didn’t want me to grow up around. I think she thought I’d get adopted but I just got bounced from house to house.”
Gabe blinked. That was a lot of information to take in all at once. “Kid, kid. That is way too much, way too fast.” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “I’m gonna need you to go in some sort of normal order. Can we start at the beginning? I’m Gabriel, and you are?”
The kid blushed. “Sorry, yeah, sorry. That part’s important, right, right.  Bennett Knoxville Scott. Most people call me Knox though.” He looked sheepish. “I, uh, got your name from my birth mother. She’s a little weird, right?”
Gabe barked out a laugh before the full weight of what the kid, Knox, was telling him hit home. He only knew one Scott, and she wrote him a letter once a year just to let him know that their kids were still alive. She never mentioned having a… son? God, this had to be Nancy’s son with her new husband, except…. why the hell would she give him Gabe’s name. “Wait…. why would Nancy give you my name. I haven’t seen her in-”
“Eighteen years?” The boy asked, a wry smile on his lips. “Yeah, I was born about 6 months after you went to jail. I just… I aged out of the system, and I wanted to find out why my folks gave me up. Nancy… she had her reasons, I guess. But you… you had no idea I even existed, did you?”
Gabe shook his head, unable to get words out. He’d been in prison a long time, and he was definitely not the same person he’d been when he went in. Emotions didn’t come naturally to him any more. They were pushed down and set aside. Emotions didn’t do him any good here; they were a liability, but now he could feel something lodging in his throat. This stranger was his fucking kid. 
“No.” He finally managed out. “I had no fucking clue.”
Knox nodded excitedly. “That’s what I thought, and that’s what I told them when I met them.” 
Gabe blinked, and it all suddenly clicked into place. He couldn’t figure out how the boy had gotten in to see him, but now it made sense. He came in with someone who was on his list. A blonde and a brunette squeezed into the cubicle with Knox, and Gabe lost it. The phone clattered to the small table in front of him. One of his hands went over his mouth and the other one went to the Plexiglas. He didn’t need to be told who those girls were. He hadn’t seen them since they were young, but he knew immediately who they were.  
“Dad!” Cordelia’s tinny voice echoed from the dropped phone. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, he picked up the phone again, and started wiping at his face. When had he started crying? That was embarrassing. “I’ve never been better.” He managed out, his gaze shifting between his three kids. “This is the best fucking day I’ve had in a long damn time.”
“James,” Simmons was back and standing behind him. “Times up. I gotta take you back to your cell.”
Gabe looked at his children for a moment. “Lemme just sort this out.” He hung up the phone, and turned to talk to Simmons, his back to his kids so they couldn’t see his face. “Surely three visitors means I get three times the usual allotted time, doesn’t it?” His voice was low, threatening, and his eyes were narrowed, showing just how dangerous he could be when he wanted. 
Simmons swallowed and glanced at the kids before looking back at Gabe. “Twenty more minutes, okay?” He said before scampering off again. 
That done, Gabe turned back to his kids, his face already back to a happy smile. He picked up the phone again. “We got twenty minutes. Let’s chat.”
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theycallmebecca · 6 years
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Drabble: Patty the Patriot
This drabble is for Becca’s July Drabbleathon!
This prompt (and the inspiration photo) were submitted by @smoothdogsgirl​
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Title: Patty the Patriot
Pairing: Chris Evans x reader
Rating: G
Warnings: n/a 
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
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You and Chris had found the puppy at a charity event in May. He and his brothers and sisters were being hand reared by volunteers after their mother had been hit by a car. She had survived long enough to have her liter and then had passed away from her injuries.
The puppy was the runt of the litter and you and Chris had both fallen for the little guy immediately. You had waited until Chris was busy talking to the donors to put your plan to adopt the little guy into action. By the end of the night, you'd essentially secured everything with a verbal agreement. (Unbeknownst to you, at the time, Chris had also tried to secretly adopt the puppy, but had been heartbroken to learn that he and his littermates were all spoken for.)
Wanting the puppy to be a surprise for Chris's birthday, you kept quiet about the adoption, even once it was final and you got a pick up date from shelter he was being fostered through. You'd let Dodger, the new big brother, in on your secret, by taking him to meet the new puppy. You'd been a bit nervous at first, but had relaxed when you saw that Dodger and his yet-to-be-named puppy brother got along perfectly.
On the morning of Chris's birthday, you drug him out of bed and told him that the two of you needed to get some stuff at the pet store before you could go anywhere else. It wasn't until you were in the pet store that you presented him with an card, revealing the whole surprise and informing him that you two were at the store to get puppy stuff.
Patty, short for Patriot, of course, came home that night to every puppy's dream: a loving family and lots of puppy toys. He quickly became Dodger's shadow, something the older dog didn't seem to mind, though you and Chris both had to remind him every now and then to be gentle with the much smaller dog.
Now it was July and Patty had been with you guys for nearly a month. He'd nearly doubled in size and loved to get into some mischief every now and then, like chewing on things he wasn't supposed to.
On this particular day, you'd spent the morning packing for yours and Chris's upcoming trip while he had spent the morning with his brother, doing whatever the two of them did during their "bro time" outings.
Hearing voices downstairs, you came down and found Chris and Patty having a stand off while Scott and Dodger stood watching. The puppy had gotten ahold of Chris's favorite Red Sox hat and didn't want to give it up.
"Come on, Patty," Chris said, his voice calm. "Give daddy the hat."
The puppy dropped the hat, but instead of backing up, he plopped himself down on top of it and looked up at Chris with what could only be described as an angelic puppy face. Chris groaned while you and Scott met eyes and had to look away quickly to keep from bursting into laughter.
"Babe, help," Chris said, looking up at you. "He has my lucky hat. I've had that hat since I was twelve." He gave you a look that mirrored Patty's.
Rolling your eyes, you came down the stairs rest of the way and said, "Come here, Patty." The dog's eyes moved from Chris to you, but he didn't budge. Squaring your shoulders, you tried again. "Who wants a treat?"
Dodger's head snapped to you at the word treat and the older dog trotted after you as you made your way to the kitchen. You made more noise than necessary as you got the treats down, but still no Patty. You gave Dodger one of the treats and then carried the box back into the hall.
"Patriot," you said, holding the box so the puppy could see it. "Do you want a treat?" You took one out of the box and put it on your palm, hoping to tempt the puppy.
It worked.
Patty forgot about the hat as he raced over to get the treat from your hand and Chris snatched up the hat, making a face when he felt all the slobber on it. Clearly the lucky hat that had never been washed was going to get a thorough cleaning.
After Patty finished his treat, you scooped him up and carried him over to Chris. The puppy eyed the hat that was still in Chris's hands, which Chris quickly passed back to his brother before taking the dog. He made a kissy noise and the dog barked happily before giving him several licks on the face, clearly showing all was ok between them.
Prompting is open until July 13th @ 9 PM PST.
Becca’s July Drabbleathon Announcement | Becca’s July Drabbleathon Masterlist
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piratekenway · 7 years
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abruisedmuse · 3 years
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For the Elucien week drabbleathon, can I have Lucien finding out about his bio father and talking through his feelings with Elain?
ELUCIEN WEEK
DAY 7: FREE CHOICE
Okay so this is kinda funny to get this. I actually have this in my docs that's a multi chapter fic. The feelings bit with Elain is spoilery for the story itself so I can't share that...yet. But what I can do is show this part. Basically in this story, Elain finds out of Lucien's parentage through a vision and this scene below is what happens after that. It's set to be a few parts. Where Lucien deals with this information and then Lucien and Elain playing matemakers lmao. The chapter after this is where we deal with Lucien and talking to Elain I can tag you in it whenever I post this story to tumblr.
TRIGGER WARNING: very, very slight mention of child abuse
The three of them settled in the sun-lit room. For an office it was worlds different than Rhys' in the river estate back in Velaris. That room was a standard four walls. This one, Helion's office in the Day Court was a rounded room. Tall ivory columns wrap around the circular area. There were no windows, it was simply an open space allowing the sunlight and the warm kiss of its rays inside to dance along the tiled floor. Elain adored the sun peering in at every angle and the soft breeze that followed. She only wished they were here for better circumstances.
Glancing between the High Lord of Day and her mate, the resemblance was uncanny. From their posture, sitting regal yet with an air of recklessness to the silken strands of hair, matching grins, and the shape of their eyes. Mother above even their nose was the same. There was no denying her vision wasn’t false. They scarcely were.
When she told Lucien of seeing Helion and his mother, he refused to believe it. He was Beron's son unfortunately. His mother would never hide this from him. Elain pointed out to him that he did in fact cleave an unbreakable spell to come to her aide that day in Hyberns. No Autumn court member, high fae or otherwise had done that. Lucien attempted to pin it on the bond. Elain dismissed it bringing up his tendency to glow when in the throes of passion. The seer had once asked her sister if this common for faes to glow while being intimate. Feyre told her it was power from the High Lord of Day. Elain never could make sense of it. Why her mate glowed like a fire bug in the summer seasons until her vision. Lucien claimed it could be from a crossed lineage years ago.
“Lucien...you said you never felt like you were a Vanserra. That there was something wrong with you.”
“Maybe this is why. Because you’re not a Vanserra. We go to the Day Court and ask Helion says no then fine.”
There was panic and fear in his russet eyes when he looked at her. “What if he says yes?”
Elain crossed the threshold to her love taking his face in her hands, resting their foreheads together, her fingers lacing with his. “Then I will be there with you and together we will hear him out.”
With reluctance he agreed and now they were here, an awkward tension like a dense fog slowly filling the silent room.
Lucien leaned backed in the golden chair, hand flexing at fae speed on the arm of it, his equally golden eye whirring as it zeroed in on Helion. The High Lord's brows quirked up in amusement, a roguish smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.
"I've always wondered what that eye of yours could do. What it could see." Elain's cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, Helion's gaze fell on her offering a wink, "Petal." He purred, "Is it alright if I call you petal?"
The smile he gave her could turn someone's insides into liquid heat. No wonder he had as many lovers as there were clouds in the sky. She chuckled before answering, shifting in her seat, "Elain is fine."
"Ah, I see. We don't want to upset your mate and have him feel left out."
Helion turned to Lucien who remained silent and watching. A steely gaze on his father, Not father and his boots tapping with the same ferocity as his hand. Elain reached through the bond feeling wave after wave of anxiousness roiling through him. It was enough to make her feel nauseous like they were in a sea of turbulent waters instead of seated, far away from any ocean. His heart, she could tell, was battering so quickly Elain was surprised it didn’t fling directly out of chest. There was something else she noticed in the bond. Realization. He knew. And Lucien was not handling it well in his mind. Elain poured her affections down the bond then overlapping her hand with his. Sweeping a thumb over his knuckles. A silent statement to say, I'm here.
Elain smiled tenderly, noting the appreciation in his russet eye as Lucien glanced at her fingers. Sliding in between his own, squeezing them in reassurance. He repeated the action to her, holding tightly as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. Then his eyes met hers. The nervousness etched on his beautiful face softened. Her heart fluttered as it always did when he looked at Elain this way. Like she was his home. His comfort. His everything. Just as he was hers.
Helion coughed a bit too loudly to be real, breaking their moment, "I hate to break up this lovely storybook moment petal. If this is about the Pegasus who ate Rhys' shirt. One Rhys should come and two he left it in the stables. If you’ll excuse me, I do have a party to prepare for and guests will be arriving shortly.” Helion made to stand.
"Sit.” Lucien snarled. Helion’s eyes widened at the pitch and the bite of the one word. “We don't know anything about a Pegasus. We're here on our own accord." Lucien curtly stated.
The two high fae stared each down as Helion slid back into his chair. The fog thick tension is now so deep a knife could only strike it. Helion lifted a hand over his heart " Unfortunately, I don't take mated mates as lovers. I'm honored you thought of me to share your bed." He teased with a lovers grin. The fire in Lucien’s eye was a roaring flame. He was several seconds from exploding. Elain has seen him angry, furious, but nothing like this. If he wasn’t her mate, she’d be frightened at the burning rage beneath him.
"I find that odd. Being if Feyre or Nesta were here you'd take the chance." Elain challenged feeding off the energy her mate emitted.
"I-" His eye shuttered briefly before meeting Elain's again, "Sweet petal," he crooned before he could speak again Elain cut him off feeling Lucien's waring feelings churning through the bond.
"There's a reason you'd deny me. Us. I think it deals with a vision I had and Lucien." She gripped her mate tighter feeling his hand grow clammy yet white hot beneath her own.
Helion grew quiet, brows pressed together, his tanned chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Holding a stern gaze with Lucien. "Of?"
"The past."
Helion blanched, the color of his skin fully drained. All hints of the easy going High Lord faded into nothing. A mask of steel replaced it.
"What did you see?" His voice faltered, shaking and strained. He cleared his throat, aiming for a deeper tone in his voice. One that caused anyone to listen and obey. If an ominous storm with roaring thunder that streaked the sky in lighting had a voice it would’ve sounded like this. It came through gritted teeth in a low predatory growl. "What did you see?"
"You will not speak to her like that." Lucien snapped. Slamming his fists on the desks sparks of embers shot from his hands. Elain jumped back into the chair. Helion had the good sense to look startled for a moment, "Unlike you or my mother, she doesn't keep things from me." then Lucien added that and the steeled features returned.
It was Helion’s turn to stand and move for move copy his son’s actions. “Listen boy. I will rip your throat out if you insult your mother like that in my presence again are we clear?”
Lucien scoffed. Not the usual playful scoff Elain had grown accustomed to. This was laced with malice. “You don’t think I’ve heard threats like this before? My entire life? "I've been beaten for saying less.”
Elucien watched as the emotionless expression Helion wore quickly faded. Now his face crumbled. Pained with grief, the glow in his eyes gone as he stepped away from Lucien. Her eyes darted between the two. This wasn’t just protecting a secret she realized. There was love here. For the lady of the autumn court, and for his son. Her mate.
"I'm sorry." Helion let out in a defeated sigh. "Forgive me. forgive us."
For as fast as that heated anger ripped through Lucien, it seemed to to die down. Like the loud sigh for Helion somehow cooled her mate down.
"I-" Lucien turned to Elain unsure of what to do. Elain did not respond the whites of her eyes rolled up, her body falling back into the chair.
Mate.
The word seared in her head, when thrust back into the past, seeing Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court together. As if her inner eye was speaking to her, revealing a part neither Lucien nor herself were ready for. Now she felt it. The golden spark tethering two souls. Pure, protective, unbreakable love. Seconds later she came back to reality.
Lucien no longer standing at the desk but kneeling in front of her. Calloused palms on hers while he searched her features.
“Elain?”
She didn’t look at him. Her gaze landed on Helion who took a step back.
“You’re mates."
“There are things bigger than telling you the truth. Stakes are high dealing with him and a situation like ours. This conversation cannot happen here.” Helion drew a finger to follow as he stood. “Ears are everywhere in Prythian. You should know this.” He fixed a sorrowful look on Lucien. “We will talk in my inner office.”
elucienweek taglist: @ladyvanserra @helion-ism @bookologist @firestarsandseneschals @thecrownlands @rarephloxes @elucienweek @nestaisgod
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mischiefslady · 7 years
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In Dreaming (FYDL Drabble-athon)
The colors of the forest are too bright and sharp, Darcy thinks as she spins round on the dirt path beneath her feet. Oddly she isnt worried or afraid in this strange place. Instead there is a feeling of safety as if no animal or person could harm her. She lets her eyes travel a little ways down the path and spots a house nestled in the trees. Its larger than a typical log cabin and somthing about it screams wealth. Curious to know who it belongs to she heads down the path only to stop short when she realizes she suddenly in a white, diaphanous gown and strappy silver heels. A snort of laughter escapes her because now she must be dreaming. Never in a million years would this be her first choice of dress. She preferred short and tight and black to the virginal look she currently wore. Shaking her head in some amusement, she continues on, feeling a strange, insistent pull beneath her breast bone. Every step she takes is filled with a sort of knowing that she can't describe. She understands that someone is waiting for her inside that house. Darcy steps up to the door and silently it opens for her. She cannot tell much about the interior and it hardly matters because she's walked straight into arms that feel like home. She's pressed against a solid chest and she can hear the rhythm of his heart beneath her ear. He's taller than her. even though she's in heels, and the scent of him, woods and fresh snow, trips her heart up. She takes a deep breath before expelling on a sigh. The low vibration of his laughter does things in places she hasn't thought about in forever. Slowly, she can feel him lean down to skim warm lips across her highly sensitive throat. "At last," he says in a smooth cultured tone and now Darcy simply must know who it is affecting her in such a way. Tiling her head back, she meets the clear green eyes and wicked smile of the man who is wreaking havoc on her body. Her gasp of recognition is silenced when his lips land firmly on hers, kissing her deeply and with such passion that she awakes in her own bed wondering why him and why it felt so real? Today's organization: The Make-A-Wish Foundation. http://wish.org/#sm.0001kgzbhtyeedvyr4t14lwqh9iab
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allisquish · 7 years
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boundaries
i’m like 5 days late to the party, but here’s my contribution to the Darcy Lewis Drabble-a-thon for Day 5, Boundaries!  Our charity today is Doctor’s Without Borders
              Boundaries
              Despite the labs in the Tower being a shared space, there were a number of unspoken rules and boundaries. Things like “don’t make fun of Tony’s robots” and “even if Jane’s equipment is falling apart for the love of God don’t touch her things”, and “never bother Darcy on a food run” and “always stand back at least three feet from Dr. Banner”.
              The last one was kinda bull, but even Darcy found herself adhering to it. Which, again, was bull but the only ones who ever seemed to break that rule was any of the Avengers (particularly Tony, but Darcy was 100% positive that the man had no concept of a ‘personal bubble’). But no of the other lab monkeys stayed in Banner’s space for long, and the exchanges always seemed… almost clinical to Darcy.
              And yeah, even Darcy was guilty, but like, she’d seen the videos. She’d seen what happened at Culver.
              Still, she knew how they treated Banner was shitty, and she was working on it! Really.
              Today, in fact.
              Darcy adjusted her hold on the ridiculous amount of food she carried (Jane alone could pack away like, three burgers easy), and stepped into the lab.
      ��       The scientist three where each in their own little corners of the lab working away like happy little worker bees. Or some similar metaphor. Darcy headed to Jane first, stopping at her friend’s desk.
              “Food delivery!” She chimed, dropping everything on top of a long work table Darcy kept meticulously clean just for eating. Scientist when hungry, would eat on any surface.
              Any. Surface. Including where they’d been experimenting just moments before.
              “Okay cool.” Jane waved, her gaze never leaving her computer screen. Darcy rolled her eyes, sorting through the food. She grabbed Tony and Banner’s orders and drinks. She headed to Tony’s workstation next.
              Tony, of course, had multiple computer screens that he was somehow using all at once. Darcy was really pretty impressed watching him work as quickly as he did.
              “Whatcha got there Lewis?” He grunted, spinning in his chair to face her.
              “Dude,” Darcy leveled her best ‘what the hell’, “When was the last time you slept?”
              Tony reached for the bag of super greasy food, grunting instead of actually answering Darcy. Darcy held the burgers above her head, and out of Tony’s reach.
              “Nah dude, you gotta answer me first.”
              “Like, 24 hours ago or something.”
              Darcy nodded, handing over Tony his burgers, “Okay, bro, after you eat go take a nap. Don’t make me get Pepper!” She threatened when he opened his mouth; probably to sass her back. However, he relented and accepted his food with a frown.
              “You drive a hard bargain, Lewis.”
              Darcy just smiled and waved, before turning towards the last of the scientists.
              Banner was, like everyone else, at his desk, going over data on his computer and cross checking the some collection of data from something or other (just because Darcy was in the labs like 24/7 did not mean she understood what everyone was working on. Well, everyone other than Jane but that was a stretch some days). Darcy, like someone would a wild animal, approached Banner slowly, her mind running wild while she tried to collect her thoughts.
              Okay, Darcy, she thought, we’re gonna actually talk this time. It’s not like he’s any different than Jane. She stopped outside his peripheral and sucked in a deep breath through her teeth, before entering that three feet of space.
              “Dr. Banner,” She greeted, smiling, “I’ve got your veggie burger.”
              Banner turned, and returned her smile with his own soft one. Dude def had a hell of a smile, she’d admit, especially when paired with his ruffled hair and glasses half-falling off his face.
              He didn’t look anything like the Other Guy, and Darcy was determined to treat him as such. Starting now.
              “Thank you Ms. Lewis,” Banner stood, taking the food from her.
              “I, um,” Darcy stumbled, pushing her hair back from her face, “I know you didn’t ask for it but I grabbed a green tea as well? It looked like you were getting low when I left earlier.” She didn’t see his mug on his worktables and only assumed he didn’t have anything else to drink. Banner wasn’t as much of a coffee addict as herself and Jane or Tony, but he was much better about staying hydrated and fed than the other two.
              “Oh, thanks.” He said, taking the drink as well. Their fingers brushed with the exchange and Darcy fought down the blush that wanted to break free.
              “Um, enjoy your meal!” She replied in a rush, before stepping back and all but running back to Jane.
              Jane, who apparently seen everything instead of paying attention to her own work. “What was that about?” She asked around the straw of her coke and Darcy hated that all-knowing tone she used.
              “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Darcy said imperiously before stealing of one Jane’s fries.
              She had broken an invisible boundary today; Darcy had earned some stolen fries.
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theirishmanronan · 4 years
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5 years ago...
Trigger Warning: Mentions Parkinson’s Disease.
“When a friend or family member is diagnosed with Parkinson's, there are many battles that need to be tackled. Most importantly, support, love and understanding are imperative for the sufferer, the carer and the families.... Do a lot of encouraging and try your hardest to continue on in a normal way.”
Ronan and Juliet had just moved into their new apartment. Settling in and decorating it in any way they’d like was by far the best part. The lad had left a few boxes at his fathers house and had made plans to stop by later that day to gather them. It was hard to leave the place he’d called home since moving to New York from Ireland seven years prior. Mostly because his daid was his best friend and he truly enjoyed their time together. Ronan had promised the man to come by for dinner at least once a week. They would still go for their trips to the park and go see films at the cinema. He often worried about his father, while he was not elderly, he was not young anymore. He’d noticed the mans hands had started to have a slight shake every once in a while. The annoyed look on his daid’s face evident. It was obvious he hated getting older, but what human doesn’t? 
As he scaled the steps to the place he’d called home, he pushed open the door. “Daid, I am here to gather the last of my things. Can I use your car?” As he rounds the corner to the living room he sees his father laying on the floor. His cell phone must have slipped from his grasp as it was across the room and out of reach. “What the hell happened!?” Ronan was clearly worried as he helped his daid to a sitting position. “I am not sure. I was feeling very stiff this morning and I got up to go grab a bite and my legs just tightened up. I couldn’t move them and then I lost my balance. It all happened do fast...” Running his hand over his face, the young man lets out a sigh. “I should call an ambulance..” His father holds a hand up, cutting him off. “No. You are here now. I will just have to get a check up with my family doctor.” Nodding Ro pulls his phone out and starts dialing a number. As the other end answers he begins to speak. “Yes this is Ronan O’Brien...” His voice trails off as he explains what happened. After a few quick nods and yeses he clicks the end button. “They can see you in thirty. Lets go I am driving you.”
 After some protest, Ronan was able to get his dad in the vehicle and drive to his doctors office. While the man might not think anything of the situation, Ro knew better. After several minutes of waiting to be called back, his daid’s name was called. His weight was collected as well as his vitals. The doctor asked a long list of questions. Shakey hands or feet, check. Uncontrollable movements, check. Limb stiffness or slow movements, check. The look on her face told Ronan he had made the right decision bringing him in to be seen. And the tone in her voice as she spoke made that even more clear. “Finneas I want to be straight forward with you. I believe you have Parkinson’s Disease. All of your symptoms aligned with the amount of weight you have lost since your last visit has me pretty confident.” 
Ronan looks from his dad, whose face gives away no emotion, and the doctor. “What does that mean?” Her kind eyes look at Ronan, the empathy clear. “While it is not a death sentence, it is something he will deal with for the rest of his life. It will get progressively worse and at some point he will need to be placed into a nursing home for round the clock care.” Shaking his head Ro sets a hand on his daid’s shoulder. “You said it isn't a death sentence...” She nods, “While the PD itself won’t kill him, he is at higher risk for blood clots and pneumonia, which are life threatening. Those are more common in late stage cases. I would say you’re still in the early stages. I would like to refer you to a neurologist, for better testing and such.” Ro could tell by his fathers face he was in shock and having a difficult time taking it all in. “Just tell me what we have to do and I will see to it that it’s handled.” As the doctor continues explaining stuff, Ronan settles in for a long difficult road with his father, his superhero.
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for-sorscha · 7 years
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Picnic (SorschaxDorian)
Hello! Welcome to the third drabble of the drabbleathon! I've been very reminiscent of this couple, so I thought I’d write a drabble because Sorscha deserves to be happy, ok? Ok. Hope you enjoy!
It was a beautiful day. That was undeniable. Although the sun was shining, the birds were flitting around and the sky a bright, welcoming blue, the only thing Dorian could look at was the girl sitting beside him. Sorscha was a beautiful, selfless, intelligent girl who Dorian cherished with his whole heart. The two of them decided to go for a picnic by the lake near the castle. Dorian had told everyone he had some important business in town, and he convinced Sorscha to sneak off and spend the day with him. Poor Chaol had to cover for both of them.
They had eaten all of the food Dorian had brought and decided to lay underneath a large tree, relaxing in the shade which helped them cool down. Sorscha had her head on Dorian’s chest, while his arm was around her waist, tracing small circles on her back. Dorian loved these moments, he loved the quiet and he loved Sorscha. He was about to fall asleep when he felt a poke on his cheek. He raised his eyebrows, looking to her, waiting for a reason behind the poke.
“Do you want to go swimming?” Sorscha asked biting her lip slightly. Dorian contemplated the idea for a moment.
“Not today,” he decided, wanting to rest. Sorscha frowned, when suddenly she stood up and started running towards the lake.
“Live a little!” She yelled at Dorian as she got to the edge of the lake, getting ready to jump in. Dorian smiled and shrugged his shoulders as he got up and ran to her.
They spent hours in the lake, splashing and enjoying each other’s company. That is until the coolness of the wind and water became too much to bear. They snuck into the castle through a secret entrance, tiptoeing through the hallway and ducking into doorways when they saw someone walk by. Dorian walked Sorscha to her room in the castle and hugged her tightly when they arrived, not wanting to say goodbye. He was saddened to see her hair was still wet and she was slightly shivering as she grasped onto him for warmth.
“Would you like to come to my room?” he asked sounding more suggestive than he wished to. She pulled away with a surprised look, blushing furiously.
“Dorian, if you think I am that kind of girl, you are mistaken... I’m sorry but-”
“I-I meant to dry off!” He yelled quickly, “There’s a fireplace in my room and I thought you might like to warm up there.” A smile broke out onto her face and she burst out laughing at the misunderstanding. She nodded her head slowly, lacing her fingers into his.
Sorscha ended up falling asleep on the carpet in front of the fireplace in Dorian’s room, the heat causing her to become sleepy. Dorian picked her up and put her on his bed, placing the blankets on her. He looked down at her fondly and kissed her head, murmuring a quiet “I love you” under his breath. Dorian grabbed an extra blanket and lied down on the floor where Sorscha had been. He looked over at her once more when he was settled and smiled, knowing that he would do anything to keep her happy and safe.
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thebigsexbang · 4 years
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Polygrumps Valentine’s Day Drabbleathon
Are you over 18?  Want to write some Gr//umps or N//SP or Star//bomb related drabbles with a romantic or smutty lean?  
In the ramp-up leading to The Big Sexbang’s second round, the challenge’s discord will be holding a weeklong drabblethon (or sketchathon for artists!) from February 7th to February 15th. 
Each day, a new, one-word prompt will be posted. Artists and writers may then interpret the word as they see fit, posting the final result at any point during the challenge or just after, if they so choose.
To be added to the challenge’s discord for the duration of the drabblethon, please DM this account or send an inbox message.  
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fuckyeahdarcylewis · 7 years
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Teddy Bear Clinic
by LadyAztec
Written for Darcyland Drabble-A-Thon
The charity I chose is Beargivers http://ift.tt/2vHmNrM
Honestly this doesn't fit into the current day's theme. But if I had to put in a specific day it would August 14th - Sweet
Darcy is PR manager for the Avengers and Bucky needs some work done for his image.
Or the one where Steve is trolling for a good cause and Bucky feels all their love and makes a new friend.
Words: 1859, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M, Gen
Characters: Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Original Characters
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis & Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Kid Fic, Fluff, Hospitals, Teddy Bears, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Protective Steve Rogers
from AO3 works tagged 'James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis' http://ift.tt/2uji8Jk via IFTTT
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gvbejvmes · 4 years
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Drabble-a-thon Master Post
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Drabble One: Tender Curiosity  Drabble Two: Unplanned Domesticity  Drabble Three: My Mother is a Fish Drabble Four: Like a Cole Porter Song Drabble Five: Stranger “Danger” Drabble Six: Behind Bars
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theycallmebecca · 6 years
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Can I please ask for something fluffy with Chris Evans watching 4th July fireworks if it hasn't already gone? Maybe even a proposal??
This drabble is for Becca’s July Drabbleathon!
Title: Everything and More
Pairing: Chris Evans x reader
Rating: PG
Warnings: n/a
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
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Fireworks lit up the sky above you as you laid curled up on a blanket with Chris. On the ground around the pair of you, laid other blankets and chairs of your family and friends who’d come to the house for a 4th of July potluck.
The modest, colonial style house you and Chris shared was just outside the suburb he grew up in and, due to its hilltop location, boasted the best view of the fireworks shows both professional and ametur.
Today’s party had been the first official party you and Chris had hosted since you’d moved in with him earlier in the year and it had been a smashing success. Due to previous engagements, you knew that yours and Chris’s families got along fantastically, but you had been nervous about how your friends and his friends would mesh together. Your worry proved fruitless, however, as both groups had come together with ease. Some more than others.
Taking advantage of a break in the fireworks show, you glanced back at where your best friend and one of Chris’s friends were sitting close together. The pair had only met that day, but had clearly hit it off judging by the way they were holding hands.
“They still canoodling back there?” Chris whispered in your ear.
“Mmm hmm,” you replied, bringing your eyes to meet his.
There was something about the way he was looking at you that kept your eyes locked on his as the next part of the fireworks show started. He leaned towards you, his mouth right next to your ear.
“I love you,” he said, his tone even and slow. “You’re my best friend. The one person that I want to spend every second of every day with.” You snorted. “Ok, maybe not every second, but you know what I mean.”
Then he pulled back so he could look at you in the eye as he got to the point of his monolog. By then, you knew what he was going to ask and you already knew your answer.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes!”
The two of you kissed as fireworks exploded over head. And it wasn’t until you’d parted and heard the continued bursts that you realized that no one else knew what had happened between the two of you. With their eyes pointed at the sky, the other fifty people hadn’t seen the two of you whispering, hadn’t seen the kiss and they hadn’t seen Chris slip the engagement ring onto your ring finger. It was your little secret.
A secret the two of you kept as the fireworks ended and people began to pack up their belongings to go home.
“Before everyone leaves,” Chris called out. “I -” He paused and looked at you, a smile blossoming on his face as he did so. “-We have an announcement.” Reaching for you, he picked up your left hand and held it in the air. “We’re engaged.”
Pandemonium hit with those two words and you found yourself the center of multiple hugs, some with Chris and some without. It took a good ten to fifteen minutes for the party to make its way back to the house where Chris had secretly stashed bottles of champagne and sparkling cider in the fridge in his man cave.
It was after midnight before you and Chris finally had another moment alone. You’d said goodbye to those who weren’t staying the night at the house, said goodnight to those who were and then had retired to the master bedroom with Chris. It was only then that you had a chance to finally admire the ring yourself and saw that he’d picked out the perfect ring. It was everything you’d ever wanted in a ring and more.
Shifting your eyes, you smiled as you watch Chris get ready for bed. He wasn’t the perfect man, by any means, nor were you the perfect woman, but he was everything you’d ever wanted in a life partner and more. He was your best friend, the love of your life and maybe someday, the father of your children.
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Prompting is open until July 13th @ 9 PM PST.
Becca’s July Drabbleathon Announcement | Becca’s July Drabbleathon Masterlist
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