Prompt: Forgotten what we were fighting about
Pairing: Jonathan/Steve
Words: 320
“Will you just listen to me?” Jonathan cried, grabbing Steve’s arm and stopping him halfway through the front yard to where his car was parked on the street. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“I want you to fucking apologize,” Steve replied, turning and stepping close to Jonathan, “like I’ve been asking for the past week. Why is it so hard for you to admit when you’re wrong?”
“I don’t even know what I’m wrong about, Steve!” Jonathan put his hands on his hips. “You won’t talk to me and I don’t know what I did! I can’t read your mind, you know!”
“You shouldn’t have to read my mind to know that I never wanted…” Steve stopped, pulling his eyebrows together and frowning. “I can’t believe you…” He stopped again, his eyes flicking back and forth like he was searching for something.
“Oh my god,” Jonathan said with a disbelieving chuckle. “You can’t even remember why you’re mad at me, can you?”
“I’ll remember!” Steve paused for another tense moment before sighing, putting his hand to his forehead. “I can’t remember. I’ve been mad at you for like three fucking days, and I can’t even remember why! Jesus Christ!”
Jonathan stepped closer to him, cupping Steve’s elbow in his hand. “Look. If you ever remember, just let me know, alright? But I don’t want us to live like this, always arguing. It sucks!”
“It does suck.” Steve drew Jonathan closer. “I swear, I did have a good reason for being mad at you.”
“Maybe we can just move past it? Spend a good evening together before I have to leave in the morning?” He gave Steve a smile he hoped was soft and inviting enough to entice him back into the house.
Steve returned the smile and said, “Yeah, we could do that.” He took Jonathan’s hand and led him back toward the house. “Come on.”
Today’s prompt, “first snow”... featuring young Anna...
Anna woke up. She had had another of those dreams, the ones where she was surrounded by trolls, magical trolls and lights and visions. She was never quite sure where she was, but she knew better than to ask. The one time she had told her mother about the dream, she had quickly changed the subject and asked her about her schoolwork. So she kept the dreams to herself. Sometimes, if nobody was around, she would tell the paintings in the gallery about her dreams.
This morning it was very quiet, and she looked out the window and saw a few flakes float past.
She jumped up and ran over to the window.
“Snow!” she shouted, and got herself dressed and bundled up, running out the door.
She ran down the hall, stopping at Elsa’s door, but then thought better of it, and ran on to the stairs. She was about to hop on the banister, when she realized she wasn’t alone.
“Anna?” her mother asked sternly.
“Sorry, Mama, I wasn’t going to…”
Her mother gave a smirk.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” she asked.
“It’s the first snow!” Anna exclaimed. “It’s sticking on the ground, too!”
“Is anyone coming with you?” her mother asked.
“No, of course not,” Anna replied, immediately regretting it when she saw her mother’s reaction.
“If you can wait for me to get my coat, I’ll come with you,” her mother said.
“Really, Mama?” Anna squealed.
“Yes. Wait right here, and please, don’t do anything foolish on the stairs!”
Halfway through my choices of prompts for the @februaryficletchallenge! (One prompt missing from this series because it’s in an existing oneshot collection.) Feel free to browse through and see what appeals to you from this series of short, easy reads! Fandoms and pairings (as well as characters written in gen pairings) in tags!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The Wood Territory had some unusual wildlife, sure, but he’d definitely remember something like that. It was a rather young pup, a pretty lilac shade that contrasted nicely with the trees; not great for camouflage in any season, but foxes were quite adept at evading their prey regardless.
Evidently, man-made traps were another story.
The fox squirmed uselessly in the air, hung from a tree branch by rope wrapped around its ankle. Quincy was surprised it wasn’t making any noise, but then again… it probably didn’t want to be detected. It surely wouldn’t react well to Quincy getting close, but he didn’t want to just leave the poor thing there, so he stepped in to help.
As soon as Quincy was within range, the fox swiped at him, using all three of its available limbs to try to push him away. Quincy didn’t pay it much mind— he’d seen much worse than a few scratches in his day— and focused instead on cutting through the rope. The material was thick, so it took a bit longer than he would have liked. But as soon as the fox hit the ground, it darted away, not even remotely deterred by a slight limp from the remaining rope tied around its leg.
Quincy sighed and pocketed his knife. He had to get better at scaring off the poachers that wandered into the woods.