I have created... POETRY
I thought I would start EARLY on my writerverse Table of Doom. Why start with the most challenging square first? So I wrote a Couplet Poem. Not just any old Couplet Poem but a Steve/Darcy poem over 500 words! I've bruised the part of my brain that rhymes!
Title: The Ad in the Sunday Paper
Prompt: format: couplet poem
Word Count: 762
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Avengers/Thor MCU
Pairings (if any): Steve/Darcy
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Summary: Darcy keeps hoping for an opening to tell Steve how she feels. This was not how she envisioned it happening.
When Darcy went out to shop for shoes,
her pocketbook on her shoulder, loose.
The ad ripped from the paper today
told her of percentages she would pay
and so she traipsed along the street,
a grin to even her eyes did reach.
The man, clad in blackened mask,
ran past her fast, hands on task.
When first she felt the annoying tug
she screamed to all, “Help! A thug!”
Did anyone respond to her cry?
Did anyone run after the bad guy?
But, hark! Here comes someone fast.
A bug? A beast? A knight, at last?
She saw the shield’s blazened star
and knew that help wasn’t far.
“He’s got my purse,” she cried loudly
He nodded, doing his work proudly.
“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll bring it back,”
he cried as he kicked onto the track.
“Stay where you are, I’ll come to you.”
“Ma’am?” she groused, feeling blue.
“It never fails. He’ll never guess.
I love him but he could care less.”
Now this the gathered crowd did hear
And they gaped at her every tear.
“She loves the Captain,” someone sighed,
thinking it was sweet that she cried.
“Don’t you know he’s not that sort,”
said another woman with a snort.
“All I wanted was this shoe sale
so I don’t have to use the mail.
Is that too much to ask of life?
A little normal instead of strife?”
No one answered Darcy’s query
as they debated whether Cap would marry.
With dejected step, she left the group
to their discussions on the stoop.
There would be no sale. No shoes for her.
Perhaps tomorrow, she did concur.
In her moment of darkest dismay,
a gleam of hope ran her way.
The blue and red costumed figure
came toward her with greatest vigor.
“I’m over here.” She waved her hand
until he stopped, coming to stand
in front of her with the loot.
“Is this yours?” She was mute.
“Darcy, I found it.” And then he grinned
shaking her purse, leather trimmed.
“Won’t you answer? Don’t you see?”
His face fell, losing it’s glee.
In that moment, it was so clear.
If nothing else, he did still care.
“Thank you, Steve,” she started to say
but stopped herself, still full of dismay.
Instead, she stood as tall as she might
stroking his cheek, feather-light.
His gift from her would be a kiss.
Their first one. She mustn’t miss.
At first, she wondered at her gall.
Maybe she should have rethought this stall
and just given him a proper handshake
because this felt like a horrible mistake.
The audience was murmuring at her attack
and Steve wasn’t really kissing her back.
When she tried to break her hold,
afraid that she had been too bold,
his hands came to rest on her hip.
It felt nice and she didn’t trip
as he moved them both back inside
away from the angry mob’s diatribe.
“Thank you,” he whispered with a glance.
“I never thought you’d give me a chance
to give you so much as a peck
without getting mad and leaving a wreck.”
“A wreck?” she asked, clearly confused.
“You’re Captain America. How could I refuse?”
“It’s just a costume. It’s only a trick.”
His face had paled, as if he were sick.
“I’m so much more than this flag-bearing fool
but people only see it, as a rule.
I was hoping you wouldn’t be like that
but it’s okay if you’re just a stat.”
She slapped him, her anger still flaring.
“Is this why the rumors about you marrying
have been flying around the whole city?
You’ve assumed that every old biddy
is out for a kiss from your fabled lips
and that I’m just one of the horrible drips?”
Her finger pointed to his chest, steady.
“I don’t love you because you’re ready
to be the champion of all the downtrodden.
Just leave me here, crying and maudlin
if that’s what you assume I’m like.
Perhaps I only love you for your bike.”
Her tone was bitter but still he smiled.
“You’re not one to keep the mood mild.
Tell me, sweetheart, is it my ride?
Is that the charm that keeps you by my side?”
This time, he started the deep kiss.
She let him with only a small hiss.
It took a hoodlum to bring them together
but now she was pressed against the leather
of his costume, in the midst of his grip.
It was a decent start to a long relationship.
Darcy rolled her eyes, irritated but happy.
“Stupid boy. You’re so sappy.”
Title: The Ad in the Sunday Paper
Prompt: format: couplet poem
Word Count: 762
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Avengers/Thor MCU
Pairings (if any): Steve/Darcy
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Summary: Darcy keeps hoping for an opening to tell Steve how she feels. This was not how she envisioned it happening.
When Darcy went out to shop for shoes,
her pocketbook on her shoulder, loose.
The ad ripped from the paper today
told her of percentages she would pay
and so she traipsed along the street,
a grin to even her eyes did reach.
The man, clad in blackened mask,
ran past her fast, hands on task.
When first she felt the annoying tug
she screamed to all, “Help! A thug!”
Did anyone respond to her cry?
Did anyone run after the bad guy?
But, hark! Here comes someone fast.
A bug? A beast? A knight, at last?
She saw the shield’s blazened star
and knew that help wasn’t far.
“He’s got my purse,” she cried loudly
He nodded, doing his work proudly.
“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll bring it back,”
he cried as he kicked onto the track.
“Stay where you are, I’ll come to you.”
“Ma’am?” she groused, feeling blue.
“It never fails. He’ll never guess.
I love him but he could care less.”
Now this the gathered crowd did hear
And they gaped at her every tear.
“She loves the Captain,” someone sighed,
thinking it was sweet that she cried.
“Don’t you know he’s not that sort,”
said another woman with a snort.
“All I wanted was this shoe sale
so I don’t have to use the mail.
Is that too much to ask of life?
A little normal instead of strife?”
No one answered Darcy’s query
as they debated whether Cap would marry.
With dejected step, she left the group
to their discussions on the stoop.
There would be no sale. No shoes for her.
Perhaps tomorrow, she did concur.
In her moment of darkest dismay,
a gleam of hope ran her way.
The blue and red costumed figure
came toward her with greatest vigor.
“I’m over here.” She waved her hand
until he stopped, coming to stand
in front of her with the loot.
“Is this yours?” She was mute.
“Darcy, I found it.” And then he grinned
shaking her purse, leather trimmed.
“Won’t you answer? Don’t you see?”
His face fell, losing it’s glee.
In that moment, it was so clear.
If nothing else, he did still care.
“Thank you, Steve,” she started to say
but stopped herself, still full of dismay.
Instead, she stood as tall as she might
stroking his cheek, feather-light.
His gift from her would be a kiss.
Their first one. She mustn’t miss.
At first, she wondered at her gall.
Maybe she should have rethought this stall
and just given him a proper handshake
because this felt like a horrible mistake.
The audience was murmuring at her attack
and Steve wasn’t really kissing her back.
When she tried to break her hold,
afraid that she had been too bold,
his hands came to rest on her hip.
It felt nice and she didn’t trip
as he moved them both back inside
away from the angry mob’s diatribe.
“Thank you,” he whispered with a glance.
“I never thought you’d give me a chance
to give you so much as a peck
without getting mad and leaving a wreck.”
“A wreck?” she asked, clearly confused.
“You’re Captain America. How could I refuse?”
“It’s just a costume. It’s only a trick.”
His face had paled, as if he were sick.
“I’m so much more than this flag-bearing fool
but people only see it, as a rule.
I was hoping you wouldn’t be like that
but it’s okay if you’re just a stat.”
She slapped him, her anger still flaring.
“Is this why the rumors about you marrying
have been flying around the whole city?
You’ve assumed that every old biddy
is out for a kiss from your fabled lips
and that I’m just one of the horrible drips?”
Her finger pointed to his chest, steady.
“I don’t love you because you’re ready
to be the champion of all the downtrodden.
Just leave me here, crying and maudlin
if that’s what you assume I’m like.
Perhaps I only love you for your bike.”
Her tone was bitter but still he smiled.
“You’re not one to keep the mood mild.
Tell me, sweetheart, is it my ride?
Is that the charm that keeps you by my side?”
This time, he started the deep kiss.
She let him with only a small hiss.
It took a hoodlum to bring them together
but now she was pressed against the leather
of his costume, in the midst of his grip.
It was a decent start to a long relationship.
Darcy rolled her eyes, irritated but happy.
“Stupid boy. You’re so sappy.”