Drabble me

[timepiececlock]

I'm still flushed with love for my new fandom, How I Met Your Mother. I've read literally every fanfic on the internet (there's only like 40 or 50, all of them short) and I'm bored. I've got two plot bunnies brewing (one longer fic concept that I'm kind of collaborating on with irrel, according to a pre-given promise of awesomeness), but aside from that, I'm a dry well when it comes to ideas. And I have this desire to write drabbles. Not whole fics, just drabbles.

So!

Open offer: How I Met Your Mother fandom, any character, any prompt, you'll get a drabble of some kind. Maybe tonight, maybe next week. I'm partial to B/R fic but I like all the characters.

And if any of you want to suit up and write me a HIMYM drabble, too, that'd be LEGEN---wait for it---


Edit: spoilers for season 3 in the comments.

Comments

This is actually incredibly hard. suprisingly.

[rashaka.livejournal.com]

I tried second-person POV for the first time in about ever. I hope it works. The title is from the band Great Big Sea, which I was listening to while writing.



The Old Black Rum's Got A Hold On Me


Okay, Robin, so this isn't how you planned to start your Monday. Life's full of surprises, right? And this probably doesn't really make you a sad, self-loathing idiot. Aside from the self-loathing that you're feeling right now, of course. But that's temporary. It'll be fixed as soon as you get up, face the world, avoid facing--facing him--and take action.

Come on, Scherbatsky. You can do this. This was your night, and it'll be your morning.

Don't look at the Barn--the body--next to you. Your robe is on the floor within arms reach. You'll be able to get it without even shifting the bed if you're careful. Just lift your eyelids, move your shoulders and do. not. look. back. Move already! Why are your eyes still closed? And don't think about the fact that you're touching elbows right now. Don't think about his hip, which is right--it's--

--shifting. Oh fuck he's waking up.

There goes freedom. Or...not?

Okay, so his leg has re-wrapped itself around your leg. Not a problem! Not a big problem. A totally deal-able sized problem. If you just twist your ankle under... there! You're free again. Wow, his feet are warm. No, don't think about that. So is his thigh! And his shoulders are a lot bigger than you thought under the suit. How often does he work out, anyway?

"Mrrrhhheeehhuuhhhgh."

Shit! He's almost conscious. No more getting distracted. Got to get out of here, Scherbatsky. Got to move He's just, just a guy. Just a guy you brought home for a drunken one-night stand. Well, a one-night stand. You weren't exactly drunk, were you?

No, not on topic!

The morning is here. You've got to go work. It's time to suit up.

"MhhhEhhhrrrrgggg....Robinnn?" Oh sweet Jesus, his hand is touching your hand. That's his pinky finger caressing yours. Unacceptable. Edge away now. Hands above the covers! Well done. Now, open your eyes. Finally.

"Morning, Barney."

"Uh...hey Robin."

"Hey."

What kind of torture is this?

"Um. In my experience, the way this normally goes..."

Re: This is actually incredibly hard. suprisingly.

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

This was love. And one fo the few times second person really, really works.

Re: This is actually incredibly hard. suprisingly.

[rashaka.livejournal.com]

Glad you liked! I never want to write in second again. I think I could only imagine it because it's stream-of-consciousness and she's supposed to be in bed with her eyes closed.