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polychromatic) wrote2010-11-12 09:42 pm
polychromatic) wrote2010-11-12 09:42 pm
Entry tags:
shiny happiness!
Veronica Mars
Honour and friendship on the basketball court
Veronica, Wallace
Written for The Shiny Happy Ficathon Meme.
Originally posted here.
Prompt: shooting some hoops.
435 words.
Swish!
Wallace let out a whoop of victory as he chased after the basketball, “That’s what now? Thirty-three to two? You’re disappointing me, Veronica Mars.”
“Oh sure, like the star of the basketball team picking on the vertically-challenged school newspaper photographer is something to be proud of,” she panted out in response.
Wallace grinned – being winded really did a number on the snarkiness levels of her tone. “Also,” she said while sitting down heavily at the free-throw line, “I’ll have you know that my enormous ego is so bruised that I’m re-thinking ever making you those famous snickerdoodle-filled Spirit Boxes again. Just think about what you’re doing here. You’ll have to make do with Madison’s imposter, store-bought oatmeal raisin cookies! Or God forbid she might actually try baking and you’ll end up with rock-hard shortbread and no teeth left to speak of.”
He arched an eyebrow, “So what you’re saying is that by hurting you I’m only hurting myself?”
“Ding ding ding! Tell him what he’s won, Johnny!” she said, giving him that patented Veronica Mars smile. “So whaddaya say, turn a blind eye and let the little lady even up the score?”
Laughing, he tossed the ball at her and made a grand bow, sweeping his arm in the direction of the net with a flourish, “The court awaits, madam.”
Veronica curtsied in response with the ball tucked under one arm. “And they said chivalry was dead!” she gasped in mock surprise, fluttering her hand in front of her face. Then she turned her attention back to the ball, indulging in a few practice dribbles before squinting at the hoop in deep concentration.
"Resorting to blackmail tactics over a friendly basketball skirmish," he shook his head at her, "Why am I not surprised?"
“Elementary, my dear Wallace. You’re obviously the Watson to my Sherlock and if you hadn’t figured out that much about me by now I’d have fired you from the ‘Best Friend’ position. Now quit talking, I’m trying to defend my honour here.”
“Since when do blackmailers have honour? And you never said anything about no distractions,” he pointed out smugly.
“Curses! The fatal flaw to my otherwise perfect plan!” she groused dramatically as she lined up her shot. Bending her knees and holding the ball before her, she took a deep breath and then jumped, extending her arms up and out—
“RABID RACCOON!” bellowed Wallace.
“What?!” squeaked Veronica.
Klang! - went the ball as it hit the rim.
Wallace merely grinned innocently, “My bad, just a shadow. Guess it's still thirty-three to two!”
Modern Family
Two Approaches to Baby-Naming
Mitchell x Cameron, Lily
Written for The Shiny Happy Ficathon Meme.
Originally posted here.
Prompt: Baby Names
816 words.
The adoption papers come through and Mitchell breaks out the baby-name book with great fervor. Armed with his red pen and a moderately impressive stash of sticky notes incongruously lifted from the office, he sits down and writes meticulous notes on the pros and cons of names that catch his fancy, striking out Bianca for sounding just a little too snobby and Xanthe for being too, well, weird. When he proudly presents the book to Cam so they can go through the remaining candidates and pick the perfect name together, his boyfriend’s dismissive reaction is more than a little hurtful.
“I worked on this for ages, Cam! I’ve taken everything into consideration, from name-meanings to any associated famous namesakes with less-than-spotless records she might be unwittingly linked to. Look, I even figured out all the different permutations of nicknames just in case there were any that might lend themselves to the usual playground bullying situations, and I’ve factored in the current baby-naming trends because the last thing she’ll want is to feel a loss of individualism by being one of fifteen Emma’s in the classroom!” He huffs in annoyance, arms crossed over his chest to emphasize just how cranky he’s feeling about this whole thing.
“Oh hogwash,” Cameron says breezily (who even uses the word “hogwash” nowadays?) and flips through a catalogue of baby furniture, “We can’t possibly pick a name yet, don’t be silly.”
Mitchell throws his arms up in the air in full what-is-the-world-coming-to fashion. “Right, because trying to decide between antique rose blush and lemon custard yellow as the room’s theme colour clearly takes priority over picking a name for our child!”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Cameron replies mildly in that very patient-but-put-upon way of his. He turns the catalogue at an angle and squints, “Ooh, what do you think of this diaper-changing station? I luh-ove the little rocking-horse motif, it’s so charming!”
“Are you even listening to me? She’s going to be stuck with this name for the rest of her life! What if she hates it? What if she hates us for sticking her with the name that she hates?”
Well that makes Cam pause.
“Mitchell,” he says soothingly, finally dropping the catalogue and patting the seat next to him, “Remember Shel Turtlestein? Fliesaminelli? I bet you didn’t have to spend weeks in advance coming up with those names before you brought them home.”
“Actually, I did.”
“Forget I brought it up. The point is, the way you’re approaching this… well it’s ruining the romance of the whole baby-naming process. Don’t you want to step into that room, take one look at our beautiful baby girl, and just know what her name is going to be? We can’t do that from thousands of miles away! And no—“ he raises a finger as Mitchell opens his mouth to speak, “A picture is not a suitable substitute for that.”
Mitchell thinks, “Oh god we’re going to get there and then she’ll end up nameless for a month.”
Mitchell says, “Fine, whatever. You keep up with this romantic ideal of the perfect baby name materializing out of thin air. I’m going to construct a short-list as our contingency plan.”
~~~
To get to this point has meant enduring a sixteen hour flight with the woman sitting in the window seat insisting on a bathroom break at every hour and Cam bawling over every single movie available in the flight entertainment system’s repertoire. Five minutes ago he would have said the experience was about sixteen hours too long, but right now… right now he’s willing to do that flight another sixteen times over just to get to this moment.
Cam is cradling the baby – their baby – with such gentleness and adoration, like he’s been meant for this his entire life, and Mitchell feels so full and light and deeply in love.
As he holds his arms out for her Cam says, “Say hi to your daddy, Lily!” and he doesn’t even have time to register what that means before he’s totally and completely in awe of this tiny little life he’s holding. She looks back at him calmly, bright-eyed and curious, one delicate little hand with five delicate little fingers tugging at one small, pretty ear. He marvels at her adorable, perfectly formed nose and her little mouth, suddenly stretching itself into an O-shaped yawn.
“So, what do you think?” Cam asks, tapping her cute button-nose fondly with one finger.
“She’s perfect,” he manages to breathe out.
“Well of course she is! But I’m talking about the name, Mitchell. I just took one look at her and there it was! BAM! ‘Lily’.” He fans his hands out like he’s performing a magic trick, and Mitchell can’t help smiling.
There’s only one way to tell Cam the approval he’s waiting to hear.
“Hi Lily,” he says to his daughter, “I’m your daddy.”
Honour and friendship on the basketball court
Veronica, Wallace
Written for The Shiny Happy Ficathon Meme.
Originally posted here.
Prompt: shooting some hoops.
435 words.
Swish!
Wallace let out a whoop of victory as he chased after the basketball, “That’s what now? Thirty-three to two? You’re disappointing me, Veronica Mars.”
“Oh sure, like the star of the basketball team picking on the vertically-challenged school newspaper photographer is something to be proud of,” she panted out in response.
Wallace grinned – being winded really did a number on the snarkiness levels of her tone. “Also,” she said while sitting down heavily at the free-throw line, “I’ll have you know that my enormous ego is so bruised that I’m re-thinking ever making you those famous snickerdoodle-filled Spirit Boxes again. Just think about what you’re doing here. You’ll have to make do with Madison’s imposter, store-bought oatmeal raisin cookies! Or God forbid she might actually try baking and you’ll end up with rock-hard shortbread and no teeth left to speak of.”
He arched an eyebrow, “So what you’re saying is that by hurting you I’m only hurting myself?”
“Ding ding ding! Tell him what he’s won, Johnny!” she said, giving him that patented Veronica Mars smile. “So whaddaya say, turn a blind eye and let the little lady even up the score?”
Laughing, he tossed the ball at her and made a grand bow, sweeping his arm in the direction of the net with a flourish, “The court awaits, madam.”
Veronica curtsied in response with the ball tucked under one arm. “And they said chivalry was dead!” she gasped in mock surprise, fluttering her hand in front of her face. Then she turned her attention back to the ball, indulging in a few practice dribbles before squinting at the hoop in deep concentration.
"Resorting to blackmail tactics over a friendly basketball skirmish," he shook his head at her, "Why am I not surprised?"
“Elementary, my dear Wallace. You’re obviously the Watson to my Sherlock and if you hadn’t figured out that much about me by now I’d have fired you from the ‘Best Friend’ position. Now quit talking, I’m trying to defend my honour here.”
“Since when do blackmailers have honour? And you never said anything about no distractions,” he pointed out smugly.
“Curses! The fatal flaw to my otherwise perfect plan!” she groused dramatically as she lined up her shot. Bending her knees and holding the ball before her, she took a deep breath and then jumped, extending her arms up and out—
“RABID RACCOON!” bellowed Wallace.
“What?!” squeaked Veronica.
Klang! - went the ball as it hit the rim.
Wallace merely grinned innocently, “My bad, just a shadow. Guess it's still thirty-three to two!”
Modern Family
Two Approaches to Baby-Naming
Mitchell x Cameron, Lily
Written for The Shiny Happy Ficathon Meme.
Originally posted here.
Prompt: Baby Names
816 words.
The adoption papers come through and Mitchell breaks out the baby-name book with great fervor. Armed with his red pen and a moderately impressive stash of sticky notes incongruously lifted from the office, he sits down and writes meticulous notes on the pros and cons of names that catch his fancy, striking out Bianca for sounding just a little too snobby and Xanthe for being too, well, weird. When he proudly presents the book to Cam so they can go through the remaining candidates and pick the perfect name together, his boyfriend’s dismissive reaction is more than a little hurtful.
“I worked on this for ages, Cam! I’ve taken everything into consideration, from name-meanings to any associated famous namesakes with less-than-spotless records she might be unwittingly linked to. Look, I even figured out all the different permutations of nicknames just in case there were any that might lend themselves to the usual playground bullying situations, and I’ve factored in the current baby-naming trends because the last thing she’ll want is to feel a loss of individualism by being one of fifteen Emma’s in the classroom!” He huffs in annoyance, arms crossed over his chest to emphasize just how cranky he’s feeling about this whole thing.
“Oh hogwash,” Cameron says breezily (who even uses the word “hogwash” nowadays?) and flips through a catalogue of baby furniture, “We can’t possibly pick a name yet, don’t be silly.”
Mitchell throws his arms up in the air in full what-is-the-world-coming-to fashion. “Right, because trying to decide between antique rose blush and lemon custard yellow as the room’s theme colour clearly takes priority over picking a name for our child!”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Cameron replies mildly in that very patient-but-put-upon way of his. He turns the catalogue at an angle and squints, “Ooh, what do you think of this diaper-changing station? I luh-ove the little rocking-horse motif, it’s so charming!”
“Are you even listening to me? She’s going to be stuck with this name for the rest of her life! What if she hates it? What if she hates us for sticking her with the name that she hates?”
Well that makes Cam pause.
“Mitchell,” he says soothingly, finally dropping the catalogue and patting the seat next to him, “Remember Shel Turtlestein? Fliesaminelli? I bet you didn’t have to spend weeks in advance coming up with those names before you brought them home.”
“Actually, I did.”
“Forget I brought it up. The point is, the way you’re approaching this… well it’s ruining the romance of the whole baby-naming process. Don’t you want to step into that room, take one look at our beautiful baby girl, and just know what her name is going to be? We can’t do that from thousands of miles away! And no—“ he raises a finger as Mitchell opens his mouth to speak, “A picture is not a suitable substitute for that.”
Mitchell thinks, “Oh god we’re going to get there and then she’ll end up nameless for a month.”
Mitchell says, “Fine, whatever. You keep up with this romantic ideal of the perfect baby name materializing out of thin air. I’m going to construct a short-list as our contingency plan.”
To get to this point has meant enduring a sixteen hour flight with the woman sitting in the window seat insisting on a bathroom break at every hour and Cam bawling over every single movie available in the flight entertainment system’s repertoire. Five minutes ago he would have said the experience was about sixteen hours too long, but right now… right now he’s willing to do that flight another sixteen times over just to get to this moment.
Cam is cradling the baby – their baby – with such gentleness and adoration, like he’s been meant for this his entire life, and Mitchell feels so full and light and deeply in love.
As he holds his arms out for her Cam says, “Say hi to your daddy, Lily!” and he doesn’t even have time to register what that means before he’s totally and completely in awe of this tiny little life he’s holding. She looks back at him calmly, bright-eyed and curious, one delicate little hand with five delicate little fingers tugging at one small, pretty ear. He marvels at her adorable, perfectly formed nose and her little mouth, suddenly stretching itself into an O-shaped yawn.
“So, what do you think?” Cam asks, tapping her cute button-nose fondly with one finger.
“She’s perfect,” he manages to breathe out.
“Well of course she is! But I’m talking about the name, Mitchell. I just took one look at her and there it was! BAM! ‘Lily’.” He fans his hands out like he’s performing a magic trick, and Mitchell can’t help smiling.
There’s only one way to tell Cam the approval he’s waiting to hear.
“Hi Lily,” he says to his daughter, “I’m your daddy.”