Drabble Day - Prompt 24

[kinky-kneazle.livejournal.com]

GOLD!!!








Yeah, this one's silver, but it was too cute not to share. As an apology, you can have Matt Mitcham as well.





Don't forget, chatzy and srs!chatzy are always available!

Comments

[blossomdreams.livejournal.com]

Title: Leaves
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 315
Pairing: James/Lily
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: James has something to ask Lily under the leaves.
Notes Het in omg so many years, but I felt that the last prompt should be a Potter one and this came up. I do love James/Lily I just haven't written much about it until now. Not to mention I did all 24 prompts! Woo! Now I'm off for bed lol. I hope you all enjoyed reading them! <3

Nervous wasn’t the right word to describe James at the moment. Terrified fit him better because he was minutes away from asking his girlfriend, Lily Evans, to be his wife. James practiced at home, in his flat, and even around his friends although they got a good chuckle from it. He knew all his practicing in the world wouldn’t work if she said no.

“James, look, the leaves are changing. I love this time of year.” Lily happily sighed as she held on to James’s arm.

“Yes they look rather nice don’t they?” James said. He hoped his voice didn’t waver. He knew it did when Lily stopped walking and frowned at him.

“James, is something wrong?”

“Um, well…”

“You and Sirius didn’t start another fight at the pub did you?”

“No.”

“Are Remus and Sirius are having another lover’s quarrel then?”

“No it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Lilywillyoumarryme.”

“What?” Lily cocked her head to the side in confusion.

James cleared his throat and moved to one knee. He pulled the ring box out of his pocket and took a breath.

“Let me do this right. Lily Evans I love you so much I can’t describe it. I love waking up to you in the morning and falling asleep with you at night. It makes me so happy to see you every day. I want to continue it for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

James felt a lump form at the silence that met him, but the smile stretching across his face reassured him.

“Yes, yes I will James!” Lily exclaimed as tears of happiness pricked her eyes.

James grinned and placed the gold band around her finger.

Lily smiled and pulled James up for a kiss. James grinned against her lips, feeling like he won the Quidditch World Cup.

James didn’t have to be that nervous after all.

Clint, Kate Bishop, gen 1/2

[curiouslyfic.livejournal.com]

“Any other advice for me?” she asks, slanting him a look he recognizes all too well.

“Nah,” Clint says, shrugging broadly and pulling his cocky bastard gold-medal grin. She’s probably the only person on the planet who’d appreciate it for what it is; projected confidence born of knowing no one else is rooting for him, that he’s in this alone. “You’re bright enough, Bishop. You’ve got this.”

“I don’t want got,” she says evenly. “I want gold.”

Clint calls bullshit, personally; she wants perfect. Wants his results, her own Clint Barton Games. “Don’t mean a thing if you don’t think you’ve earned it.”

She nods like she understands. Maybe she does. He’d been a dumbass at her age and he can own it now but back then, he’d figured it was him against the world. That caring about anything was a vulnerability he didn’t need, a weakness to hide and crush and deny. Dumbass really is the only word for it, but at least he knows where he went wrong.

“I’ve earned it,” she says, eyes lit fierce.

Clint doesn’t know much about her background, has only seen her shoot in clips on YouTube, but he can read faces well enough and he’s a decent judge of character. No doubt in his mind she has. “They’re going to try to get in your head,” he cautions. “The rest of your field, they won’t let you make it out of qualifiers without a target on your back. So you don’t let ‘em, but don’t shut everybody out, either.”

“I’m not worried about the rest of the field.”

He nods at her. “Right. Do me a favor, though? Make a few friends while you’re there?”

She arches a dark brow at him. “Like you did?”

That pulls a broad grin out of him. “Like I didn’t,” he corrects. Sighs a little and gives up a bit of his past he hasn’t even given Natasha. “You think it’s about winning, having that moment on the podium where everyone in the damned world has to acknowledge how fucking outstanding you are. And it is, some, but it’s pretty hollow if you don’t have no one to celebrate with you, right?”

“I think that ship’s sailed,” she says, dismissive, and he can only imagine that it has. Olympic-level archery’s a surprisingly tight bunch, national clusters of shooters who’ve known each other forever, and she’s as much an outsider to it as he’d been, the relative unknown poised to crush an awful lot of Olympic dreams in her upset for gold.

No doubt at all she’ll do it, either, and he knows the allure of that fuck you. Hell, he’d taken his medal and run without so much as a thanks.

“Not saying it’s got to be buddies with everyone,” he murmurs.

She snorts.

Clint, Kate Bishop, gen 2/2

[curiouslyfic.livejournal.com]

He waves her counter off. “All I’m saying is, I got through all of mine without ever remembering why I was there. What it meant, you know? And that’s not…” He looks away, rubs the back of his neck. “The last place you want to figure out that the Olympic spirit’s an actual thing is the podium, okay? So just…Figure that part out faster, don’t do it with all the cameras on you.”

The way she’s watching him makes him want to raise both hands in surrender. Kate Bishop’s got the competitive spirit down, no question. “That the benefit of your experience?” she asks, wry and mocking.

Well, hell, he can do that. “We both know you’re not here for shooting tips.”

There’s a world of acknowledgement in her nod, another in the silence that falls between them.

“You’re going to do this,” he says finally. “I know it, you know it, anyone who’s seen you shoot knows it. And it’s going to suck some, because once they’ve noticed you, there’ll be a big old bull’s eye on you and you’ll feel it every second you’re there. Don’t think you’ll let it stop you, won’t even slow you down, but don’t get so caught up in fighting all of ‘em that you come back with regrets. All right?”

She watches him for another long moment. “Someday, you’re going to tell me what you came back regretting,” she says, voice low and thoughtful.

“Only if you earn it,” he agrees. Blames his current teammates for the fact that the thought of sharing doesn’t fill him with terror.

“Will do,” she says and flashes what he already knows will be her gold medal smile.

And Clint’s thought about it, sure, come to this meet-up prepared, but he really isn’t sure until he sees that smile. “Hey, Bishop? You got yourself a good luck charm for London?”

She hikes that brow again, quizzical but not condemning. “I won’t need luck.”

He shrugs. “Neither did I.” Then he’s pulling the wad of fabric out of his pocket, tossing it at her lightly. “Here. Consider it a loaner from the Unofficial Kate Bishop Cheering Section.”

And when she unwraps the fabric, turns bright-eyed and awed and solemn at the sight of Clint’s medal, he’s glad he took the time to dig it up out of storage, gladder still he’s made his peace with his own Olympic experience enough to agree to meet her before hers starts.

Because if she’s looking at Clint’s medal like that, he figures she’s halfway and then some towards really, truly appreciating her own when it comes.