Friday: Finishing the Week on a High

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Hello All, I’m thesmallhobbit your host for this week and today's theme is Finishing the Week on a High – for once good things happen.

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
If your prompt or fill contains anything that can be a trigger for the reader, please add a warning for that to give the reader the chance to decide if they want to read or not.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing. Use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above mentioned spoiler cut.

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Sherlock (BBC), Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, celebrating a finished case
+ The Hobbit, Any, enjoying the sunshine
+ Any, Any/Any, receiving good news

We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.


tag=finishing the week on a high

Comments

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Grey the Webcomic (http://www.grey.collectiverealities.com/), Mason + Charlie + Any, they have a party with cake and balloons and little hats.

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood (+Any), Catching and presenting to the rest of the Wizarding World one of the creatures they had called her "looney" for believing existed.

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Any, Any+/Any, "Just this once — everybody lives!"

[adamas.livejournal.com]

Just need to say: I CAME HERE TO LEAVE THIS PROMPT SO YASSSSSSSS. ♥

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Any, Any/Any, Slow dancing in the kitchen while the food cooks.

Fill: MCU, Phil Coulson/Clint Barton - Slow Dancing

[megan-moonlight.livejournal.com]

It was a Friday evening and Phil was finally home. As soon as he opened the door to his apartment he realized three things: one, there were Clint’s boots in the middle of the hallway and his leather jacket laid on top of his overnight bag. Two, he could smell lasagna, which made him realize how hungry he was. Three, Clint was listening to slow instrumental music, which was unusual, since loud pop songs were usually his first choice when he needed some kind of soundtrack for cooking.

Phil sighed quietly.

The day was hectic. Jasper had asked him for help with a new group of recruits, and while Phil had worked on paperwork, leaving training and lecturing them to Jasper, eating had slipped his mind completely. Jasper had provided him with coffee, of course, but while it was good, nothing tasted nor smelled better than Clint's cooking, especially after a long day.

After taking off his jacket and leaving his briefcase in the bedroom, Phil went to the kitchen. Clint was there, just as he expected. He was humming and moving smoothly from one cupboard to another, taking out plates and cups, then to the oven, checking on the food. He was wearing jeans and one of Phil's old black t-shirts, one he always wore whenever he stayed over, Phil had no idea why. He kept moving, hips swaying to the rhythm of the music, and Phil couldn't look away. There was something calming about watching Clint cook.

"I didn't take you for a fan of instrumental music," he said and Clint, still dancing slowly, turned to him and smirked.

"Steve and Barnes have been convinced to listen to Tasha’s and Sam’s favorites today," the archer replied, glancing briefly at the lasagna before taking forks and knives out of the drawer. "I've been listening to it for the last hour. It's catchy as hell."

"I can see that," Phil stepped into the room, but when he wanted to walk up to the oven he felt Clint wrap his arms around his waist, preventing him from moving. As the archer pressed his chest against Phil's back, Phil couldn’t help smiling. Clint continued to move to the rhythm of the music.

"The food will be done in an hour or so, you know," he said, his lips brushing the back of Phil's neck gently. "Remember Milan? It was the first time we danced together."

"You looked good in the suit Natasha had picked for you," Phil noted, turning in Clint's embrace. He wrapped one arm around the other man's waist and caught one of Clint's hands in his. “Though there had been no lasagna involved then, as far as I remember.”

"We had to keep an eye on Jasper and Natasha instead. Good times.”

Phil snorted. As Clint ran one hand up and down his back, Phil relaxed against him and let him lead. They were dancing slowly, Clint’s forehead against his, the bright smile never leaving the archer’s face.

Reveling in the feeling of Clint's arms around him, Phil sighed, contented. It was a good day.

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Criminal Minds, Ensemble, For once they DON'T get a case on their day(s) off.

Fill

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

"How was your weekend, pretty boy?" Derek leaned back against the counter and sipped at his coffee, watched Reid dump what looked like half the canister of sugar into his coffee.

"Excellent. I watched all of season one of Stargate SG-1. Taking a break from Star Trek. You?"

"Went out, did a little wining and dining, some dancing."

"With a beautiful woman, I'm sure." Reid smiled patiently at him.

Garcia bustled into the break room with two mugs of coffee and pens poked into her hair. The pens were topped with bobble heads of Richard Nixon. "Hello, my beautiful boys. How was your weekend of freedom? Mine was full of Dungeons, Dragons, and stabbing men who try to assign females in the parties with bikini-shaped armor."

"I hope not literal stabbing." Reid raised his eyebrows.

"Natural twenty stabbing." Garcia smirked.

Derek stepped aside so she could fill her mugs. "Glad you had a good weekend, Pretty Mama."

"I hope you're all ready for some serious FBI business this week," JJ said.

"This from the girl who's all tan from spending her entire weekend in the park catching butterflies," Emily said.

JJ grinned. "You bet I earned my tan fair and square. How was the film festival?"

"Divine. I've ordered some DVDs already. You'll have to come over." Emily's eyes were bright with excitement.

Hotch stepped into the break room carrying his coffee mug.

"How are you doing?" Reid asked.

"Good, thank you."

Garcia shuffled aside so Hotch could get at the coffee pot.

"How was your weekend, sir?" she asked.

"Excellent. My work phone didn't ring once."

And that always made for the best weekend ever.

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Sherlock (BBC), Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, celebrating a finished case

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

The Hobbit, Any, enjoying the sunshine

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Any, Any/Any, receiving good news

Fill: Hannibal, Alana/Margot, "Over the Wall"

[fresh-brainss.livejournal.com]

(TW for planned pregnancy)

Margot sits in the overstuffed chair in the parlor every afternoon from one to three-thirty. She'll bring a book--Oyeyemi or Karen Russell or some heavy classic--and it will remain closed and untouched in her lap. The grandfather clock will tick, the curtains will rustle along with the warm air coming from the radiator.

And Margot will sit, back straight, stomach a knot of nerves. Waiting.

Alana is always home at this time from the hospital, sitting in the kitchen going over her files, hair down and jacket abandoned. She keeps shorter hours ever since they started the treatments. They both know their doctor's calling hours begin at one and end at three-thirty.

Alana never seems to get much paperwork done.

Margot won't sit in the kitchen with her--it makes her too nervous. She wants Alana to come into the news on her own before she shares it, even with her wife and the mother of her child. They're both such intensely private people, especially...especially after. They've earned privacy, and Margot will give it when needed.

They'll have fun telling their loved ones--Alana's family, their friends, the ones they trust with their lives. They want to have fun. They deserve to have fun. But for now, it's just them.

That doesn't mean Margot isn't a wreck while waiting.

The phone rings on a Monday in February, half past two, with grey snow sleeting the streets outside. Margot closes her eyes, swallows, her throat clicking dryly. She waits. Alana lets the phone ring almost twice before answering.

(Margot cannot hear her from the parlor. This is calculated).

The radiator hisses; Margot barely notices. Her hands curl around the spine of her book. Today, it's The Secret Garden, a childhood favorite of hers. She hasn't read it in years; it's more wishful than anything--she hopes the gothic whimsy of it will rub off on her, the secrecy and false ghosts, the running through a maze to find paradise at the end.

Four minutes pass, then fifty-four seconds, and the parlor door opens, the heavy oak wading through the plush carpet.

Alana doesn't waste time--they don't mince words, they don't settle on charged glances or loaded gazes. That isn't them. "I'm pregnant," Alana says, voice firm but quiet.

The book falls from Margot's lap, thumping against the carpet, and Alana bends down to pick it up. She crumbles into Margot's embrace and ends up with her head in Margot's lap, crying into her skirt, Margot's sure fingers twining through her hair.

"Everything is going to be perfect," Margot whispers, smiling through her tears, and holds Alana close.

[dreammaidenn.livejournal.com]

Hawkeye, Clint Barton +/ Kate Bishop, pizza and video games after a mission gone well.

[dreammaidenn.livejournal.com]

Marvel, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Peter stays the night.

Fill: Marvel - Peter Parker/Wade Wilson - Said The Spider To The Fly.

[lil-1337.livejournal.com]

"Where're you goin'?" Wade wrapped his arms around Peter trapping him as effectively as Peter captured villains and criminals.

"Home." Peter made a show of struggling, but settled down much quicker than if he had really been trying to get loose.

"Nope. Staying."

"But." Peter tried, he really did, but Wade's kisses had a way of stealing his breath and his brain cells. By the time he had the air and the thought processes to argue he was wrapped up like a fish in the clutches of a hungry octopus and Wade's smug grin was much too tempting to walk away from.

"Staying?"

"Yeah." Peter agreed letting his head fall back on the pillow and melting into Wade's embrace. "Staying."

[dreammaidenn.livejournal.com]

Batman comics, Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne, (614): Long fucking story. But hey I got an orgasm and breakfast so I'm winning.

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Hawkeye (Fraction run), Clint Barton/Kate Bishop,

‘Cause I’m on top of the world, ‘ay
I’m on top of the world, ‘ay

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Marvel (comics), Wade Wilson/Peter Parker, this is the best day of my life

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Babylon 5, any, everybody has a perfectly nice day for once

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Grayson (comics), Dick Grayson/Tiger, “maybe we’re allowed to be happy.”

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Justice League Cartoon, Wally West/Bruce Wayne, he’s pretty sure that he didn’t know what happiness was before he met Wally

[talkingtothesky]

Person of Interest, Harold Finch/John Reese, Harold tells John he's pregnant. John is over the moon.

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

Grayson, Dick Grayson/Midnighter, M'S in a suspiciously good mood

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any,

I'm just saying it's fine by me
If you never leave
And we can lay like this forever
It's fine by me

Fill: SG-1, Jack/Daniel, lawyer!AU

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Jack opened his eyes, confused. His neck ached. He’d fallen asleep sitting up on the couch with his head at an awful angle. The TV and DVD player had shut themselves down sometime in the middle of the night. Sam and Teal’c were gone.

But Daniel was still there. He’d fallen asleep beside Jack and somehow ended up curled against Jack’s side, nestled in close and resting his head on Jack’s shoulder. Daniel was sleep-warm, his breath hot on Jack’s neck, and he looked peaceful. He was still wearing his glasses, which were a little askew. Jack plucked them off carefully and set them aside.

And then he stared down at Daniel, at the peacefulness of his expression, the dark crescent of his eyelashes on his cheekbone, the way his brow furrowed for a moment as his dreams took a turn, the purse of his lips.

It was still dark outside. If Jack squinted at the clock on the DVD player, he could see the time. Past three. They’d fired up the last Indiana Jones movie around ten. When had Sam and Teal’c left? And why hadn’t Sam woken Daniel? She’d been his ride.

Jack returned to studying Daniel and wondering. Thinking. When he looked at Daniel, Daniel was just Daniel Jackson, translator, attorney, law guardian with unfairly blue eyes and expressive hands and a tendency to talk way too fast. But in the silvery light of the moonlight, with all of the cares of the day wiped away in sleep, Daniel looked younger, and Jack could see, underneath the years of care and study, a boy named Daniel, a boy who’d saved his life.

Somewhere there is a sky, and it’s beautiful.

Jack had known he was in trouble the first time he invited Daniel to team night with Sam and Teal’c and he’d gotten flushed and indignant when they’d turned on Tomb Raider (Teal’c liked Lara Croft) and Jack had thought, in passing, that Daniel looked cute when he was all fired up, hands waving and glasses slipping down his nose.

He’d realized just how much trouble he was in when that crazy client had burst into the office (how the hell had he made it past security?) and drawn a gun and the first thing Jack had done was step in front of Daniel (and then Lorne stepped in front of Woolsey and the gun went off and everyone was cowering behind or beneath their desks, except for Lorne, who was lying too still on the floor).

And then he’d heard Daniel whispering to himself, over and over again, words Jack had thought he’d never hear again, and Jack remembered the sound of helicopters and the grind of sand in his mouth and he caught Teal’c’s eye, and as one they’d leaped on the gunman while Sam covered them, her own gun drawn.

And now...movie night. Watching silly movies to cheer themselves up, to remind them they were all alive (Lorne didn’t even have a bruise).

Jack looked down at Daniel and felt like the piece that he hadn’t even known was missing from the puzzle of his life had just slid into place. It was impossible. They were coworkers. Daniel had been married once. Jack had been married once. Jack was technically one of Daniel’s bosses. A relationship gone wrong was the fastest way to destroy an effective team. The Spartans had had it all wrong, with their Theban band.

But it was Saturday, and there was no work, and no obligations, just the two of them on the couch. Jack wanted to lay like this forever, with Daniel warm against his side. He closed his eyes, matched his breathing to Daniel’s, and slid back into sleep. If he didn’t get forever, at least he’d get tonight.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Rodney McKay, His staff find him even scarier when he's in a good mood

Fill: nerd!John AU

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Evan was just getting to the good part of his book when the radio beside his bed sounded.

“Major Lorne?” It was Zelenka. He never called on a designated Sunday unless it was some kind of John-related emergency.

Evan scooped up his earpiece. “Go for Lorne.”


“Please come to the lab. Immediately.” Zelenka’s voice was low, soft, like he was hiding and didn’t want to be discovered.

“I’ll be right there.”

Evan set his book aside, toed on his shoes, grabbed his side-arm, and headed for the door. He was down the hall to the transporter and to the lab in under three minutes. The lab was quiet. Too quiet.

Except for...humming.

Evan peered around the corner, sidearm at the ready.

“What?”

All of the scientists were literally cowering under their desks, watching with wide eyes as Rodney...designed a ferris wheel on one of the whiteboards?

Rodney was humming and smiling and scribbling preliminary calculations around the outside of the ferris wheel.

“Is everything all right?” Evan asked.

Rodney turned to him, blinked. “Yes, of course. Isn’t today your Sunday?”


“Yes. Isn’t it yours?”


“It is. I just needed some space to work on a personal project.”

“A personal project?” Evan echoed. He scanned the room and spotted tufts of Zelenka’s hair over the edge of one of the lab benches.

“A wedding present. For John. When we go on annual leave this year we’re getting married. You’re invited, of course. Jeannie’s helping me with invitations and other formalities,” Rodney said, and kept on humming and drawing. He promptly forgot Evan’s existence.

John was nowhere in sight. Evan skirted around the benches and hunkered down next to Zelenka.

“What’s going on? Why are you all hiding?”

“Have you seen him?” Zelenka hissed, jabbing a finger in the direction of Rodney’s humming. “His smile? It is terrifying.”

“Why? He’s happy.”

“About what?”

“About marrying John, obviously.”

“No, you do not understand,” Zelenka said. “This is dangerous. Very dangerous. When Rodney is this happy, terrible things happen --”

“All right, everyone, gather around. I have an idea,” Rodney said, grandiose and pleased.

The scientists peeked over the edges of the tables and benches.

“It starts,” Rodney said, “with a naquadriah generator,” and suddenly Evan understood why they were all so, so scared.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Ronon Dex, The best thing about his new life in Atlantis

Not a fill yet

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

But I want this.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any,

Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am young again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am fun again

Not a fill yet

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

I don't mean to be greedy, but can I have this too?

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, Can't stop smiling

Fill: Gundam Wing - Quatre Winner + Duo Maxwell - Fair Weather Friends

[lil-1337.livejournal.com]

Duo slid into the booth across from Quatre and nodded a greeting before taking a sip of his coffee. "You're looking awfully happy for a cold and rainy day."

"Desert people, remember? We worship the rain." Quatre grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"You hate the cold and that smile is way too big to be caused by the weather. Spill."

Eager to share his news Quatre set his cup on the table and leaned forward. "I finally did it. I asked him and he said yes."

"Congrats, Q. I'm really happy for you. Both of you!" Shifting in his seat Duo scanned the almost empty coffee shop. "Where is Tro? I want to tell him it is about time."

"Back at his place." Quatre retrieved his cup and took another drink. "He said if we were going to move in then he he should do it now."

Duo laughed, his grin matching Quatre's for size and genuine happiness. ""That's Tro for you, always ready to carpe Quatre."

[drabblewriter.livejournal.com]

Star Trek AOS, any, a successful mission with no complications

[lasairfhiona.livejournal.com]

Admiral Pike finished the last of the reports he had piled on the desk. He was tired, Enterprise had been on a series or missions to further diplomatic relations with other worlds after the fiasco with Nero and the Romulans. But now they were only a couple days from home. Thankfully this run of political missives had gone better than the last few and for once Enterprise was returning home without having to go to even red alert for once and for Jim Kirk, the master of annoying and angering people, that in and of itself was a feat.

The reports finished and the stored in the drawer in the desk, he stood and walked over to the windows to watch as the stars floated by while they were at Warp. Lost in thought he never heard the door chime it wasn’t until he felt arms go around his waist that he realized he wasn’t alone.

“You were miles away.”

“I was already home,” he answered leaning back into the embrace.

“Won’t be long now.”

“Better not be,” he grumbled, not believing what he was saying but he wanted to wind his lover up a little because it was fun.

“Jim can’t get into that much trouble in two days. There aren’t any worlds between us and home.”

“You have too much faith in him.”

“No. I have just the right amount of faith in him.”

“Always, Kirk’s defender,” Chris commented with a teasing smile.

“Always his friend when so many others want to tear him down. And don’t you try and tell me you aren’t behind him as well.”

Chris chuckled. He’d been called out, but it was true, even if he didn’t admit it freely, he did guide and support Jim Kirk. Turning in his lover’s embrace, he reached behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “I don’t want to talk about Jim Kirk, other than to say that I’m glad there hasn’t been any trouble and tomorrow we will be arriving at space dock and a shuttle will be taking us home.”

“I like the sound of that. It’s been too long since we’ve had a break to spend time together.”

“Come on, Len, let’s go to bed,” Chris suggested, pulling back and guiding his lover toward the bed. He was tired and his lip more pronounced, and wanted nothing more than to curl up with Len and enjoy the peace that had uncharacteristically came with this mission

[drabblewriter.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, s/he says yes

Stargate Atlantis, David Parrish/Evan Lorne

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

David cupped the clay jar carefully in his hands, waiting for Major Lorne. It was late, though in Atlantis that didn’t necessarily mean everyone was in bed. He knew for a fact that Dr. McKay was still in his lab, and Dr. Brown was wandering through the greenhouse, checking on the night-blooming plants. The Major was on scheduled patrol. David didn’t mind waiting.

Botany was a field of study that required patience. There was nothing particularly fast-paced about it. In particular, returning the Atlantis greenhouses to their former glory was a long, time-consuming process that required the study of native soil samples, water samples, and how the plants native to the Pegasus galaxy developed and thrived. David had always excelled at exercising patience.

There was something about the Major, though, that made David jittery. Maybe it was his sincere smile, or his blue, blue eyes. Or maybe his soft-spoken gentleness, which was so unexpected in a military man (though David was starting to think that the Air Force produced quite a different breed of soldier, and Colonel Sheppard certainly bore that out).

“You should ask him out,” Katie said one day, apropos of nothing.

David had looked at her, startled. “What?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him.” Katie had leaned in, keeping her voice low. “I know you like to think things through pretty thoroughly before you make a move, but you don’t want to wait so long you miss your chance.”

After that conversation, David had rushed headlong into planning. He couldn’t seem to sit still once he’d made the decision to act. He read through all the regs, met with Dr. Noorani in the Chem department, consulted with Elona, one of the Athosians assisting with the greenhouse project, and made several very specific offworld trips.

Now that the moment was upon him, David found himself oddly calm. The Major would either say yes, or he’d say no. Of course, David was hoping for a yes. He’d been admiring the Major from afar for quite some time, drawn to his quiet nature, his physicality, even the graceful motion of his hand while he was painting. But he was pragmatic. He knew he wasn’t classically handsome, knew that the other soldiers made jokes about the Botany department. David just hoped that the Major would give him a chance to show him the kind of man he was.

“Dr. Parrish? Is everything okay?”

The Major came down the hall, dressed in his black uniform, and David was momentarily struck dumb.

“Dr. Parrish?”

“Please say yes,” David said, and shoved the clay pot at the Major.

Major Lorne’s eyebrows shot up as he took the offered gift. “Say yes to what?”

David took a deep breath, tried to get himself back under control. “I’d like to ask you out. On a date.”

The Major looked surprised, to say the least, and his cheeks were flushed. “Oh. Uh.”

“I made you some ink.”

“Really?” The Major looked pleased. He took the top off the jar and dipped a finger in, coating the tip of his finger in the ink.

“It’s made from the Calypso plant,” David explained. The color was a deep red flecked through with shimmery bits of gold that gleamed in the light.

“You made this? For me?”

“Well, I had some help,” David said truthfully.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” The Major gave David a searching look. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

And then the Major smiled, genuine and wide. “Yes.”