#otp: stop me from veering

[earnmysong]

sophie/harry, 24 and 13?

sophie/harry

extended thoughts on faces colliding [where, favorite type of liplock, yay or nay on PDA]... | these two definitely gravitate toward the comfort kiss ... when situations get heavy, there’s no better reset than the touch of lips to shoulder, wrist, or cheek. if they’re gifted a more substantial moment to breathe, then there’s usually a proper meeting of mouths featuring the same gentleness and care, but meant to linger and carry them through whatever they might face until they get their next chance. 

when they’re focused on making sure the other is in one piece - or helping them put themselves back together - the location doesn’t matter in the slightest. decorum will never be neglected, however. 

feel feel to peruse the ‘musings...’ list and ask for any!

[silenceofthewave]

[A SOUNDWAVE ROLEPLAY BLOG]

– This is a multi-verse roleplay and ask blog.

– Soundwave's character is a mixture between TF Prime and TF One. It's frame is consistent with Prime, which means it has the visor, datacables and creature like quality (hence the it/its pronouns).

– This blog does not shy away from shitposting, but don't let that scare you! I enjoy literature RP just as much, and always welcome discussion when opening new threads.

– Feel free to DM me! I am open to DM RPs as well as discussion! I'm here to make friends and have a good time :)

– Author is 24 years old, and does not shy away from NSFW topics. This includes smut, but also extends to violence, robogore, and the like. I understand I interact with minors, and I am always very careful to ensure they are not exposed to anything explicit. If you are interested in explicit RP, it MUST be kept to DMs for this purpose. I also need assurance that you Are above 18+ in order to engage in this way.

– Due to the multiverse nature of the blog, this is also multi-ship! I am willing to consider anyone who has good chemistry with Soundwave, but my otps are MegaSound, SoundOP, StarSound and WaveWave.

- Header image by kibermonakh

[RULES]

– Please put as much effort as I do into our RPs. It's frustrating writing out a big reply only to get a paragraph back. (This ofc does not apply to shitposting.)

– Minors are free to interact, but please keep in mind that I am particular and reserve the right to stop a RP if its veering into territory I'm not comfortable with. (as are you!! and this applies to all RPs)

– Please reach out to me before starting a big thread, and please keep in contact throughout so we can stay on the same page.

– OCs are welcome!

– Please send asks! Soundwave loves them. But, please do not flood my ask box. I assure you, I've seen it, and it will be answered.

– If you want to start an RP through an ask, please make sure we are mutuals. My notifications get flooded very easily and I am currently trying to work out a management system for them.

– To piggyback off that, if I missed a response from you please either Tag me in the comments of the thread, OR send me a DM with the link to your response. Like I said, my notifications are a MESS, and I know it's very likely for me to miss something.

– Since this has been a problem before, please please please don't purposefully flood my notifications. While I am Committed to the Bit, it's very overwhelming and buries replies. I appreciate the humor, but it's one of the few times I'll say something is unnecessary.

[UNIVERSES]

– 1024.14 Tau: The Chaos Verse

Lovingly called The Chaos Universe, this is where Soundwave gets to shitpost for fun and free. Soundwave has never known peace a day in its life in this universe. Soundwave speaks freely, using the typical "Soundwave: [sentence]" format.

Tagged as u 1024.14

Shipped with @/Lord-Starscream

- 1024.15 Tau: Revival

The Revival Universe currently focuses on the journey to bring Soundwave's cassettes back, utilizing Shockwave's cloning techniques. Angst and grief abound, Soundwave finds itself questioning everything thing it knows about itself. Soundwave has gone mute due to the grief of losing its beloved Cassettes, and instead uses others voices to speak. Still, it finds it has trouble voicing its true thoughts and feelings.

Tagged as u 1024.15

Eventually to be shipped with @/dailydoseoflogic

[HEADCANONS]

Soundwave thoroughly enjoys human music and art. It even has a hacked Spotify account and will listen to music while its flying, alone, or even share it with those closest to it.

Soundwave has managed to get itself connected to the internet, and will regularly do internet searches on things it is unfamiliar with. It also enjoys watching movies and videos.

Soundwave has a strong EM field, which it uses to hone its telepathy, and occasionally share emotions it cannot express.

Soundwave is not emotionless. It feels a lot, actually, but cannot express that.

It uses many emoticons to express what it's feeling, all with their own different meanings.

Soundwave's telepathy is touch based.

Before the war, Soundwave was a gladiator with Megatron. It honed its skills and life long friendship with the Decepticon leader in the pits of Kaon. It trusts Megatron with its life because of their shared experiences. Its loyalty to the Decepticon cause runs deeper than politics.

Soundwave loves its Cassettes. It will put itself in the line of fire to protect them, and will protect them even if it means certain death. In the universes where its Cassettes have gone offline, it's extremely vengeful and will stoop to murder to avenge its beloveds.

The Cassettes were built by Soundwave's own servos. A sliver of its spark splits off, and it only has a few days to build a spark chamber, the beginnings of a protoform and install an internal repair system. The process is extremely time and resource intensive, hence why it has not made new Cassettes during the war.

Further headcanons that appear on the blog are tagged as #soundwave lore

[TAGS]

#u 1024.14 - The Chaos Verse

#u 1024.15 - Revival

#Soundwave: <3 - usually used on neat artwork that i, and by extension soundwave, enjoys

#TheWaves - wavewave art, headcanons, general posting

#SoundAmongTheStars - StarSound art, headcanons, general posting

#Soundwave: >:( - usually used in RP to denote displeasure or anger

#Soundwave: Loves Its Cassettes - exactly what it sounds like, mostly artwork ft the Cassettes

#Soundwave: :( - Usually used in RP to denote some kind of sadness

#nightlygreeting - my sign off posts

#admin babbles - i enjoy yapping sometimes

[bladesmercy]

001 for sfkr and clerith!

oomf u know me so well. thank you for letting me yap >:-)

001 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

sefikura 🐍♡☁️

when I started shipping it if I did:

there's actually a funny story to this one. > be me. > guilelessly playing kingdom hearts 2 in 2019. > "what the hell is these dudes' deal. i wonder if people ship them at all" > open ao3 thinking there might be a handful of fics > "oh there's a couple more than a few, huh" > life ruined.

my thoughts:

my favorite little guys in anything ever. they surgically removed my personality to make room for more sefikura. truly i have never loved a ship as much as this one. literal otp of all time.

What makes me happy about them:

everything? they're so funny and silly to me. extremely pathetic creatures. two absolute losers. i think of them and i always smile. i love the fact that each of them have independently made their personality revolve around each other at different points in time, it's so funny.

What makes me sad about them:

EVERYTHING. the fact they will never have a happy ending. the fact they will be enemies in every (canon) universe. the fact they are two extremely broken people who are uniquely equipped to understand each other and that won't be enough to save them.

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

tbh i'm so picky with what i like and don't like about how both these guys often end up characterized, but i also think all interpretations are valuable in their own way. i can't think of any huge annoyances, except that i have very Specific feelings/headcanons about sephiroth in crisis core era, and usually won't read things that veer too far away from that.

things I look for in fanfic:

i love any and all fics where the author makes it obvious that sephiroth is just. completely besotted. and i think cloud feeds off of that, even if he won't admit it. i'll read just about anything with these two, but i especially love stories where authors can articulate the crux of their dysfunction really well. yes, these two have have immense amounts of hate, and blood, and pain between them, but (especially on sephiroth's end) there is also an Intense desire for intimacy, of any kind. these two things juxtaposed well is just magical to me.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: 

no one. i say that as a joke but it's pretty much true. for cloud i do also ship him hardcore with aerith (somewhat against my own will XD), but outside of that i don't really multiship these two anymore. i used to be a Hardcore multishipper, and while i still appreciate things like some polyshipping (other cleriseph enjoyers where are you, i need food of that ot3 so bad), i honestly can't enjoy the thought of them being with anyone else. i miss being a multishipper, because these days pretty much every single other ship with them (outside of clerith) has become a notp for me. ;w;

My happily ever after for them:

in canon? haha. the closest i could see them in canon ffvii (and the closest i think part 3 of remake would get to giving them a 'happy' ending) is having a moment of resolution similar to what kuja and zidane get in ffix. i would be satisfied with that for canon. BUT if we're taking all the stops off, i want to see the dramatic epic pining slowburn post-AC where they eventually figure out how to lead semi-normal lives alongside each other. this is making me want to write that now....maybe that will be my next fic project.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

there's an obvious answer here with consideration to builds and hair lengths, i think. i like to think cloud has accepted his fate to have this 7 foot tall piece of brick clinging to him like an octopus.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

this is another obvious one, and i'm tempted to say 'fighting', but i'm not sure that clears the bar of non-sexual for them. my second choice is that i think they would just genuinely enjoy being around each other in silence. they're both such introverts, and i like to think of them just recharging quietly with each other.

clerith ☁️♡🌎

when I started shipping it if I did:

let me preface this by saying that when remake came out in 2020, i had less than zero interest in vii's infamous love triangle. i wanted no piece of it in my heart or my home. then the game came out and cloud and aerith gripped me by the throat and violently dragged me into falling in love with them by being so damn charming and heartfelt and perfect for each other.

my thoughts:

i love these two so damn much. i really Really loved them in remake, and rebirth intensified this to a level i could Not have anticipated and is currently ruining my life. i love them. i love that they are soulmates, romantic, platonic, or something in-between. i love that their bond and chemistry is near-instantaneous, i love that cloud blooms into letting himself experience softness around her, i love that aerith finally has someone who cares about making her happy and standing by her so damn much.

What makes me happy about them:

so much. their love is so pure and tentative. their vibes to me run parallel to how i see and experience the early 20s as a queer person, essentially the second teenage-hood where you're still feeling yourself out as a person, and you have no idea what you're doing. you feel like you're missing out on a lot of the fundamental experiences that 'normal' people have already had, and i feel like both cloud and aerith mirror that emotion, thanks to the fucked up circumstances of both their lives. aerith is cloud's first real friend after nibelheim (and potentially ever, depending on how close you think he was with zack. to me, i hc cloud and zack were pretty friendly, but not especially close prior to the nibelheim incident.) and cloud is also one of aerith's first friends. they've both suffered such acute loneliness and isolation in their lives, and the fact they find healing for that in each other is so so special to me. the fact that aerith is the person most able to reach through to the person cloud Really is, even under everything he's got going on, makes me so deranged.

What makes me sad about them:

well. there is a very obvious answer. so there is definitely That. that's kind of a big deal.

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

honestly i feel like i don't have many specific fanfic annoyances in general, because if a fic annoys me i just stop reading it, and then my adhd makes me forget i read it to begin with.

things I look for in fanfic:

i really love everything with these two, i love all the cute fluff happy ever afters they don't get to have in canon, but i also love the angst and the drama and the trauma. usually i just gravitate towards any fics that i feel understands the characters well or has interesting ideas, the exact plot or type of scenario is less important to me.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: 

in my heart, cloud's endgame ship is always sephiroth. as for aerith, i'm also a Huge zerith shipper (yes i am in constant emotional pain, how did you know), but aeriseph also firmly has a place in my heart.

My happily ever after for them:

any. any of them. i want the most tooth-rotting fluffy ending for these two. (admittedly, their iconic tragedy is a part of why i love them so bad. without it, my emotional investment would be Nowhere near as high.) i've been reading a lot of wedding/alternate future fics with these two lately and they all make me ;w;

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

i genuinely think it goes both ways, but if i had to say i think cloud is doomed to be a little spoon in any lifetime.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

oooh tough one!! i think aerith would love teaching cloud to garden....though i'm not sure he would be any good at it. but i have faith in him to learn.

[danpuff-ao3]

1 + 4 + 23 for the ask gave u just reblogged :3

Hello there! Thanks for the ask! :D

1.) What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Haha. Same fandom and pairing I'm still obsessed with. Harry Potter fandom and shipping Snarry, 19 years and counting! It's actually only the past 2-3 years I even started reading fics with other main ships, and having interest in other ships. And I only temporarily shifted focus to other fandoms, those being Supernatural then Marvel. But even when I was reading more (and even writing) of another fandom, if you asked me what my fandom was and my OTP I'd still have said HP and Snarry! They've always been my #1 and always will be! <3

4.) Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

I do! I even have a general outline for even the smallest of fics (i.e. drabbles), though those might just live in my head. But I don't start until I know what I'm doing and where I'm going. The longer and more complex the story, the longer and more complex my outline will be. But I never jump in unsure of where to start, let alone not knowing the end!

Very rarely do I stray from my outline. I always see outlines as roadmaps so even if things begin to veer off course, I know enough about my destination and my supplies to get back on track. That's why I like outlines so much. But another part of it is that, especially with the HP fandom, I feel like I have a good enough grasp on the characters to not really encounter nasty surprises. My outline was my saving grace in my longest fic, The Best Kept Secrets. I'd have the occasional "uh oh" moment, but I'd get it fixed in a jiffy!

The stories that most caught me off guard were Orange Blossoms and Contempt (funny since they were both posted May 2022!) With Orange Blossoms it was a matter of the story fully developing pretty last minute and not feeling as well prepared as I like to be when starting that project. All the pieces clicked into place and bloomed right before my eyes, right as I sat at the keyboard! It was a quick job throwing together a more robust outline then diving into work.

With Contempt...that one's harder to explain. I've said it before, but I know their full story in that world beginning to end. I've always known where I was going, every step I would take. But the road was longer than I originally thought it was. And I felt underequipped and underprepared. Not enough water, not enough snacks. A lot of rest stops. And "surely just a little further..." I went in overconfident, in some ways. Daunted by the journey, but I'd been planning it for so long, surely it would be alright.

I really expected that fic to be like 3k. Then, as it surpassed that, maybe 6k...Imagine my horror that it ended up at 20k!! Geez Louise, where did that come from?? I've become very proud of my ability to tell a lot of story in a compact space, but more than anything I have to do my work justice, and allow them the space and grace to be what they need to be. And Contempt needed more. Maybe I could have managed it in less words, but you wouldn't have the full grasp of the intensity and the chaos of Harry's mind, would you? It needed to be the long, rambling, twisted road it was. I made it to the finish line exhausted and sore but looking back...it was worth every moment.

So, writing is never easy or predictable, really, but I manage! It's never big mishaps or course-changes I deal with, more a shift in vibe, or a veering a little leftward. Stories might be longer or shorter than I envisioned. They might be darker or fluffier; detailed or vague. They might not be precisely what I envisioned, but they're always what they need to be, and in the end more or less what I had in mind. If that makes sense. 😅 It's never "oh Harry decided to go bungee jumping today when he should have been baking a pie" but maybe "this pie baking is more depressing than I thought it would be."

23.) If you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

Hmmm!! You know, I feel like I've considered this before, but it's always been idle musings, and now that I'm being asked this question...I don't know how to answer! I never want to change much, I think, but more likely a shift in focus. Perhaps writing from an outside perspective, or running off with a background storyline. I don't know I'm rather married to my stories, so I'd never make big sweeping changes I think. Maybe spruce them up a bit.

Though I guess my biggest regret with The Best Kept Secrets was that in the current version I veered off from the original version by making Albus Severus straight. I started worrying too many characters were gay (as if there's any such thing!) (Let them be gay, dang it!!) So maybe I'd rewrite that whole thing and go back to my original vision of Albus Severus and Scorpius hooking up (even though I don't really ship it...maybe Albus and Lorcan Scamander or something, idk, but he'd be gay!!) So yeah that's it I think!

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

Answered: 1, 4, 23

[cielsosinfel]

I'm on the final/true route of SlowDamage so here are my thoughts, after playing each route months apart. You will notice that my thoughts are mainly lukewarm-to-negative... The LIs in this game were very underwhelming for me :/ Meanwhile, the actual overarching plot is probably the most engaging of any N+C game I've played so far (DMMD and Togainu no Chi, so not much.) So I'm gonna complete it for the plot, and hope the True route LI sparks something in me, but mostly... These characters aren't making me crazy the way Keisuke. Motomi, Koujaku or Clear did......😔

(CW for noncon and incest, as well as spoilers! obviously)

I'm gonna start off with the two side fucks first because they're the ones I have the most positive things to say about lol. Not gonna talk about the plot important non-LI sex scenes though, because I barely remember the details now.

KOUTAROU: Honestly found his sex scene very hot. He has a very fun personality! He's really buddy-buddy with Towa and so casual and flippant about offering to fuck him, and then the way he uses him as like Towa's a mindless hole... I think this works for me because there is 0 emotional attachment in this relationship and no expectation of one developing, so Towa's lack of emotional reaction wasn't something I was annoyed by. The fact Towa is left unconscious and doesn't even get to come </3 It's what he deserves!!

MAYU: This absolutely was not sexy but it was very cute, completely unexpected lol I would honestly go for a full-length Mayu route. Towa needing to come to terms that he has ~feelings~ for a complete nerd who forces cosplay sex on him without any negotiation... Mayu should force him to be his date to Comiket to do OTP cosplay together <3 Also Mayu cuddling up to his body pillow as soon as he comes, leaving Towa sitting there in his bed still in a wig. I love him.

Taku: had really high hopes for the sole DILF but he was just too nice! too caring! too gentle and virginal! ended up really wanting to ship Taku AND Towa with Toono instead.🤪wanting to ship an LI with a side character in a multi-romance-route VN is truly its own hell... And they set up Towa being forced to crossdress and go on a date with Tooono but went nowhere with it?? But with Taku, what they gave us of his past with Toono, all of the blackmail and guilt built into the relationship, REALLY got to me... i would play a game focused on their toxic downward spiral, tbh

Taku's bad end did nothing for me either, I think it veered too far from his established personality without enough build-up. All and all just kind of a disappointment.

Madarame: SEXY... TO A POINT.... Honestly, I've complained about this a lot, but part of my issue with Slow Damage's porn aspects is that Towa is /too/ into everything. They hammer home that he loves to be abused, he gets off on being raped, he barely emotionally reacts to anything around him because he just can't bring himself to /care/. Unless he's being hurt, and then he's horny. But I'm reading N+C BL precisely because I want whumpable pretty boys being violently used and abused while they cry!!! I want that hurt/comfort whump noncon porn!!!!! It doesn't have nearly the same flavor if the protagonist either likes everything because he's the ultimate masochist, or isn't phased by anything happening to him...

So the Madarame route opens with Towa actually being scared, possibly for the first time in the game, and I was like yes! yes! we're getting somewhere!!! This is the kinky whump I expect from an N+C game!

And Madarame's route should be everything I want... There's confinement with a leash and collar by a violent, much bigger yandere top, there's forced humiliating petplay, there's caretaking/bathing kink, there's eye socket penetration... But after Madarame's kidnapped Towa, and both Towa and the reader have gotten comfortable in the new direction the route is taking, Towa stops being afraid and stops caring. And Madarame doesn't exactly have much emotional depth either, as a character. Honestly I can't even really remember how his endings go at this point. I did like the idea of the bad ending, where Towa joins Madarame in taking over the Takasato-gumi together. That felt like it made way more sense for Madarame than the good ending did lol

Ultimately this route ended up with me also wanting to ship Towa with a side character... one we don't even see on screen once... (his brother lol)

Rei: honestly rei's everything pissed me off too much and i will not even bother ranting about it again. not good!

TL;DR I went in wanting Towa to fuck Sakaki and however-many-hours later, I STILL want Towa to fuck Sakaki out of every character. Let the sexy sexy middle-aged crime boss desperately trying to be your father replacement bend you over his desk, Towa!!! Embrace the daddy issues!!!!!!!!!!

[utterlyinevitable]

I'm sending out a few questions to my favourite writers over here because I can never have enough of your otps 💕

For Ethan and Becca/ Ethan and Odette

Who cleans the most? And who is the messiest? Who has the best table manners? How do they resolve their arguments? Who remembers dates, birthdays, and appointments? Who is the most physically affectionate?

Who has the most nightmares and how do they deal with them? Who steals the blankets? What do they do when they’re bored and together? Do they go to sleep at the same time as each other? Do they shower/bathe together? If so, how far does anything go?

Thank you for thinking of me and my beans 🥺🥰

Who cleans the most? And who is the messiest?

B&E: Ethan cleans the most, he is such a neat freak. Becca is a controlled mess, in that she leaves messes in her wake but knows where everything is inside of the anxiety-inducing piles 😆

O&E: They have hired help because Odette likes to organize rather than do deep cleaning. Everywhere everything is minimal and perfectly in place except for her shoe closet and her office. Ethan is strict in that everything has a place and he knows how Ode's OCD flares up if anything veers from the way she likes it.

Who has the best table manners?

B&E: Ethan. Idk who taught him proper etiquette because it surely wasn't Alan. Becca likes to talk about bodily habits at every turn and can be very unseemly at the dinner table. In more ways than one 😏

O&E: They're both on the same level. Odette is better at chit chat. Ethan was taught English etiquette and eats with both hands, knife in right hand and fork in left, its okay to rest wrists on the table. Odette was taught American, eating with only her dominate hand and the other resting in her lap unless she's cutting a bit of food.

How do they resolve their arguments?

B&E: They usually just ignore them, or fuck them out of their system. Once they have kids and have been together for over 5 years, they learn to agree to disagree and only do what's in the best interest of the family. At times they keep a tally of who got their way and alternate 🙄

O&E: They both need to take some time alone after an argument, to sort through their true feelings on the matter and whatnot. Then one of them (Ethan, more often than not) will apologize and they'll move on with their lives. Ode hates (afraid of?) confrontation so they don't get into arguments often.

Who remembers dates, birthdays, and appointments?

B&E: Ohhhh hmm. If it's super duper important like medical appointments, their kids birthdays or their wedding anniversary it's Ethan. He's always prepared for those well in advance. Becca remembers the smaller things, like the color of the sky during their first kiss and the first thing he's ever given her. To her the smaller moments are the crux of their relationship. She's also chaotic. The longer she and Ethan are together the more she realizes she doesn't need to remember the big things because he'll always make sure she's reminded. That way her mind can focus on other things.

O&E: Odette is like a haute elephant - she remembers everything. She's got a photographic memory and synesthesia.

Who is the most physically affectionate?

B&E: Becca, she enjoys climbing and hanging off of him like a tree. If they're in the same space odds are her hand is in his or on his thigh.

O&E: Ethan. They don't do PDA much. When they're alone he's rubbing her shoulders, peppering kisses to her skin, or just wrapping his arms around her while they relax.

Who has the most nightmares and how do they deal with them?

B&E: Becca. She's got a lot of trauma in her life and can't seem to shake it. Most nights she's fine as long as Ethan's pressed up against her. When she's pregnant she has frequent nightmares and it adds to her stress. Neither of them think she ever truly got a restful night during her pregnancies. How she deals with them is by going for a stroll to the kitchen for some water, or if its an aggressive one Ethan is up and rocks her to sleep.

O&E: Ethan, especially after Louise comes back and shakes up his entire world. Depends on how bad they are he either reads while in bed with the intent to fall back asleep, or just starts his day early. He doesn't like to dwell on them as he knows they're irrational fears and not real.

Who steals the blankets?

B&E: Becca. She steals the pillows too, even though she sleeps with 4 and Ethan sleeps with 2 🤣 She also likes to sleep smack dab in the middle of the bed.

O&E: Odette. She sleeps like a burrito. She used to have a weighted blanket but stopped using it when she and Ethan began spending every night together. She didn't need it when his arms are wrapped around her.

What do they do when they’re bored and together?

B&E: Becca likes to bake, so she's moving about the kitchen and he's making sure she doesn't burn the place down. They watch movies or one of the shows they can actually agree on watching together. Sex, obviously. Or Becca will pick a random street or neighborhood she's always wanted to explore and they'd go do that.

O&E: They like to workout. He prefers weights and running, she prefers yoga. If it's a gross day out and they can't run they'll take turns - though after a while she gives up trying to get Ethan into yoga and does it in the same room while he's working out so they can still be together. They like listening to music and shopping. Ethan likes listening to her play. He's gotten really into music history podcasts lately and likes to discuss it with her.

Do they go to sleep at the same time as each other?

B&E: They try to as evenings are the only time they truly get with one another.

O&E: When they both worked on the DT, yeah they did most days. As her career took off and his changed, there are days dinner is waiting in the microwave and the other is asleep. Weekends are for them and they get up and go to sleep together.

Do they shower/bathe together? If so, how far does anything go?

B&E: They do both. Bath's are always foreplay (unless Bec is pregnant then it's a medical necessity for her aching bod). They love showering together because it's so intimate, but more often than not it leads to sex and they cannot afford wasting all that time 🤣 They'll usually shower together at the end of a long day where it's 60/40 it'll end in sexy time.

O&E: Not often, but yes. When they shower together it's intimate - washing the others hair and body, sometimes steamy touches. It's all about the connection with them. Also Ode likes to shower immediately after sex so when they are showering together it's aftercare... Does skinny dipping in their hot tub often count as a bath?

I loved these, thank you so so much!! 💞💞

[mimiplaysgames]

And There Are Storms We Cannot Weather (Ch. 3)

Pairing: Terranort x Anti-Aqua Rating: M Word Count: 3,303

Summary: Terranort baits her into following him—straight to Castle Oblivion.

Read on AO3

A/N: First fic of 2021 and I had to give it to the dark OTP. I spent weeks insecure about this chapter, but it’s thanks to @lyssala​ for reading through it and assuaging my fears. This is honestly the end of... the easiest part of this fic ljgfjlgfjfklgj I’ve really got my work cut out for me. Thank you all for your patience, feels like it’s been a while!

~*~*~*~*~

My Worst Brings Out The Best In You

Waking up is nothing like how she remembers it to be. Soreness ruptures her back, and her skin jolts as she peels off of knuckles of stone that dug in all night. She barely remembers if she dreamt. What she really can’t recall is if there’s such a thing as a refreshing morning. 

To top it all off, her ass is numb. Aqua groans when she stands up, stretching as hot gusts blow into the cave, throwing dust to her legs, caking the armor, nudging the shadows as they stir. Besides the wind rolling pebbles along, there’s no noise to enjoy in the Badlands, all the sun glaring down on bleached red sand.

The first thing she does is not breakfast (she must), nor a wash (she should), but to close her eyes, reading darkness. Maybe he woke up, too. 

He did.

He’s here.

Aqua shushes her Heartless. They’re squirming, reacting to the way her heart is pounding. At the mouth of the cave, Aqua surveys where she should go. The Badlands splay out with endless sunlight, no shade to cover her except for a passing dust storm. It’s not a view she’d share with anyone; it’s the worst place to sneak around. She’d be like a marker with a giant arrow, her shadow stretching to grotesque proportions depending on the way the light hits her.  If she’s going to titter around this exposed, she’d better make it count.

She starts by running then she fades away into clouds of smoke, magnetized to the nearest cool spot beneath a plateau, a stark, black slice across the dirt. Here she’ll recover and look for a different spot. As long as it heads in the same direction. 

It’s after the third resting place, a tunnel cutting through a mountain, that she notices she’s heading towards the Graveyard. Well, if she heads west she’d reach it. But her gut feeling—a twinge in her nostrils—veers her slightly north. When Aqua steps out amidst a precipice, she spots a gathering of oddly skinny rock towers stretching to touch the sky. No natural force could have made them.

On each of these towers stands a cloaked figure. Different heights, different hierarchies, with hearts inexperienced, lost, angry, bored, apathetic. There’s one with a third mind. Regardless, they all reflect the image of an old man somehow, like a plague they’ve infected themselves with. 

Ah, there he is, wearing black like all the rest. 

She inches closer, melting into a shadow cut off by a boulder, peeking over the edge. On the tallest tower is someone she hates to recognize. The only one without a hood. Bald. Old. Breathing with the excitement of a bully crushing dirt into another child’s hair. He’s about to land something big and Aqua knows what it is but she doesn’t care anymore. She just wants him dead for stealing.

Xehanort waves a hand and Aqua ducks back. He couldn’t have seen her. 

But when she risks a glance, most of the figures burst into a fire of purple and black, disappearing. 

Except for the only one she wants, of course.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if they knew she was there. Aqua thrusts forward, gliding over the sand, flying up parallel to one of the rock towers until she gracefully floats back on her feet at the top. 

He stands across from her, a field of what looks like ruins in the distance behind him. He takes off his hood and draws a proud smirk on his face.

“I’ve proposed they take care of you,” he says, proceeding to undress his gloves one finger at a time.

It’s a funny way of saying he asked them to get rid of her, and maybe Aqua should be nervous about it, but she tells herself that she can handle twelve nameless men. That is, until she thinks about their empty spots in this ritual circle.

Is this supposed to intimidate her? She has to hand it to him, he’s got spine. “Looks like they left you to do it yourself.”

There’s a flash—a knot at the edge of one eyebrow—of a shot of rage, like he’s about to chew her head off. Then he flashes teeth. He smiles too much.

“Then we shall begin,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “Mind a detour?”

Energy sparks at the tips of her fingers, readying a Keyblade but she stops short of summoning it. A detour? He’s not making a move. Aqua leads a staredown, watching for signs of what he’s plotting.

But he doesn’t plot. He steps backward off his pillar with that ridiculous gremlin smile as if to let himself fall. An inky doorway swirls open and swallows him whole. 

Aqua bursts across the chasm, throwing herself into the same portal. She won’t lose him this time.

She lands on a muddy, brittle pathway suspended in the air, where clouds blot the sky so there’s no horizon to see. She lands on what could have been where she first conjured her very own Rainfell. Where she slapped Terra in the face that one and only time. Where she made love to him, where she picked up her Master’s abandoned Keyblade for the first and last time—it’s all erased here, ground and packaged into a single path where even the mountains eroded to dust. It’s worse than the Badlands. It’s home. 

The castle stands in the same condition she left it in years ago: painted the color of stale, crusty shit and topped with a bright turquoise roof, like a surprise gift to give your worst enemy. Warped with upright towers, towers that jut out to the side, and towers that hang upside down, it’s disjointed and bizarre, a puzzle with mismatched pieces forced together. Which is exactly the point: let the intruder wander, let him be lost, let him forget and enjoy the oblivion. 

He has thrown away his cloak at the entrance of the castle, Terra’s armor adorning his left arm. He has his back to her but there’s a tension in his shoulders as though he’s pretending not to notice she’s behind him. 

There’s one reason, and one only, why he’d bring her here. Aqua readies the Keyblade.

“Like an animal,” he quips. She can imagine him snickering. “Always prepared to deal the first blow.”

She strikes. He dodges. She’s right—he is snickering, making a show of gripping the door handle like bait asking to get caught. “Stop,” she hisses. Which is stupid. Of course he wouldn’t.

Of course he’d turn the handle. Of course he’d glance at her, tilting his head as an invitation to come inside with him. 

“You don’t have the right!” she yells.

He laughs, leaving the door open for her. 

Terra. She could lose him today, forever. If they spend hours wandering the rooms of this castle, they’d lose memories with no way to predict which ones go first. The painful? The nostalgic? Either way, there’s no such thing as Terra and Aqua holding hands if they are gone.

Aqua tackles the front door before it slams in her face. It’s heavy, resisting her at first before swaying momentum and throwing her off balance. Instead of a grand entrance hall with a proud foyer, luscious stained glass displays, mirrored marbled stairways, and a warm hello, it’s just one room. 

An empty blank room, so clean that she’s the stain, framed by polished sculptures and a rose dais she doesn’t recognize. It’s not like she had a design in mind when she transformed the castle. There’s no memory of where this came from, no record of it ever written. Not even from Eraqus, who had an idea and not a clue. She takes one step; it echoes like a screech. The white on white on white glare back. The walls stand like sterilized canvases, starched for a bleed of whatever color in exchange for a few of her thoughts. They know. This isn’t home. There’s nothing here. Just him.

“Lest you forget, this was my home, too.” He smiles.

Aqua nearly spits that it isn’t, wasn’t, never will be, but that isn’t true, is it? He’s pleased with himself, leaning on the door on the opposite side with his elbow propped up as though the castle is a casual friend he’s embracing.

“Now, isn’t this exactly where you would prefer me to be?” he asks. 

“Acting like an idiot?”

“Somewhere familiar. Old family. Fond memories. A place to call your sanctuary.”

She shrugs it off. “Not much of a spectacle anymore.”

His eyebrows worm one by one. He’s lucky he has Terra’s face, otherwise she’d shave them. “But a spectacle worth revisiting.”

“There’s nothing left,” she snaps. “This place is empty.”

He strokes a finger on the door, a gesture that is halfway between Is that so? and Not so fast. “Except one room.”

Hunger churns in his eyes and she’s uncomfortable with the way he’s looking at her, like he’s about to drag her by her ankles. 

“Don’t bother asking. It’s not like you’d ever see it,” she says.

His nostrils flare, surveying disgust as he scans the room from floor to ceiling. There’s a ferocity there, an ignition of something ready to deteriorate. Aqua settles for what’s coming, claws extending as they fasten her Keyblade. If she tears flesh today, so be it. It will only be a little. 

How he gets himself to smirk the next moment is a secret she’d have to learn. “Then a bargain. The Chamber of Waking, and I won’t harm him.”

Aqua grunts and cuts an arc through the air with her Keyblade, firing a sphere of energy dark enough to absorb light. He blocks it with a wave of his hand and he chuckles like there’s not a day worth living if you’re not close to dying. 

Summoning his giant Keyblade, he swings back, rupturing the tile beneath him as it cracks and crumbles towards her. She dodges, but an explosion bursts from beneath and knocks her off balance. As she turns over to stand up, he’s already looming over her. 

They’re in a tight space, the walls knitting together and forcing them to take intimate strikes and forgo the fancy spells. Tinks and shears and blasts echo as though one hit is actually three, the sound of their blades bashing against each other. Her Heartless can’t form a congregation here. He doesn’t bother with his Guardian either, too cumbersome and clunky to maneuver inside.

He’s slower than her, but the close proximity means she’s running out of space to dodge his wide reach. Every hit he throws is the force of a boulder destroying a mountain as it avalanches, testing her balance, stealing the seconds that she needs to steady herself and parry the next. 

She readies a spell. He blows the tile beneath them, an earthquake tripping her feet.

Every curse she scrambles with—a Sleep, Confusion, anything to throw him off—does nothing, as though he’s feasting on her efforts. She should’ve known better.

It’s fine. Aqua’s tough without her Heartless, tough without needing to trust anyone but herself. Glowing with an icy hotness that burns like frozen snow on exposed skin, she’s about to multiply—

“You will not,” he says.

He pummels into her like a canon, his armored hand around her throat as she collides back onto the door behind her. Not the front door, no—she’s foolish and distracted enough not to notice that he’s been circling her in this small, square room. He’s pinning her against the other, the one that would lead to Ven but wouldn’t. It creaks under the weight of her body and the pressure of his strength.

“I could lock you up in this purgatory,” he whispers, his breath brushing her cheek, her nose, her lips. Smiling. “Or you could take me to him.”

Aqua pants, her fingers scratching the surface of the door. The thought of being left behind—

Like choked breath, she stops the moment she sees the proud expression on his face. 

It’s a bluff.

Calm down. He wants to scare her. It’s a bluff. 

He needs her to get inside regardless, even if he doesn’t know everything. That you need the Master’s Defender at all is a secret only shared with those who wield it. He wouldn’t know. Despite how desperately she wants to dig her way out, Aqua keeps her chin high, staring him down. She scoffs through her nose. 

His eyes twinkle as he reads her. Aqua tries not to lead him on with any assumptions. Keep it stoic.

But there’s something about the way she’s doing it that’s betraying her. She’s failing with every second that he blinks. “Ah,” he cooes, “you do not have the means—”

Claws into flesh—she pierces his wrist, right through the leather in between the metal, and he yelps. Pulls off of her. She closes the gap with black fire and cold fingers and the intent to rip an iceberg in half. He has his arms over his head, his Keyblade forgotten as he pathetically defends himself against a rabid monster flailing at him.

All she sees is the opportunity to take back. Priming a sharp hand over his face (and at such the perfect angle to peel it off his skull), she lunges forward and pins him under her. Reaches to his waist. Pulls the orange Wayfinder out of his pocket.

He yells and throws her off of him. His pupils shrink to nothing, his Keyblade burning with an unnatural color. He’s clutching his chest as though his heart is pounding too quickly and is about to plop dead. Aqua is on her knees, the Wayfinder’s chain threaded around her red knuckles.

Move. She needs to move while he towers over her, a trickle of drool seeping from his lips, his white hair messy. He’s manic, searching her and searching the floor and searching the walls, moaning. Aqua has to move. Aqua sits frozen. 

Has he forgotten where he is? 

Is this… 

She whispers his name, barely audible.

For a moment, he stares past her. He growls and throws himself on her, the back of her head hitting the floor. Pupils so small his eyes are golden orbs, two little false lights in the dark, tempting you to go deeper into the fog where a monster waits. Like the Guardian’s, watching her take her last breath underwater. As though he knows no weapons, or no magic, he squeezes a fist around her hand, his fingers prying the Wayfinder out of hers with such strength that he could amputate them. Aqua chooses her fingers and lets go. 

Once he has it back in his possession, he stumbles off of her, heaving and hunched over. With the Wayfinder to his chest, his pupils slowly grow back. Brows knitted, lips quivering, eyes lost. That’s not a face Xehanort would make. 

Then he runs. He bolts down the terrace, disappearing in a cloud of smoke, leaving Aqua on the floor, leaving the doors open. Terra’s body is traveling like a shooting star. She can feel it propel somewhere in the far sky, where the stars hover above the clouds. She could follow him, fight more and more and more until she drags him to the ocean kicking and screaming and losing.

But it aches.

But she’s tired. She’s fought, and they’ve matched the same games over and over, with nothing to show for them except sore throats and scratched cheeks and defeated bodies slumped over floors like they weren’t dignified Keyblade wielders but wronged children.

It aches. It aches more than anything the Realm of Darkness threw at her, as though a hollow has cracked inside, collapsing her lungs into a pit of gravity and threatening to take the rest. If this is how it feels to be human again, why bother going back? What good is it to pretend that fate is kind and hearts are strong and one day he’ll realize what just happened and wake up with his blue eyes?

Instead, she should try to find Ven on her own, without her Master’s Defender. Her heart will lead the way, let her keep her memories. Or she’d lose it all, walking in circles, be the ghost that haunts this castle and create a legend that will keep her name immortal. It’s a stupid idea.

Aqua rolls over to her side, the tile underneath jutting into her hips and ribs. The doors he left open frame the outside, a dry and empty nightmare. She misses the sound of pattering, the smell of moisture, the promise of green every year. The Land of Departure certainly had its dreary days when the clouds were thick, but the light never dimmed. It would rain and all would be clear, the raindrops bulbous as they pummeled and exploded into miniature puddles.

Maybe the reason why the dirt is so rancid here is because rain never fell on Castle Oblivion. If she and Terra were caught under an onslaught, they’d continue to par. Water never stopped her flow and he couldn’t be bothered to slow down. 

There was one obnoxious day when Terra grabbed her elbow and dragged her to the front porch, just under the awning in an effort to keep dry but it was futile—they were still pricked by frigid droplets. Beneath the rain, his blue eyes were less noticeable. His dark hair weighed heavy but it was thick enough to perk up if with less gusto. He smirked at her, and she knew what it meant.

She smacked his arm while he glanced through the entrance as he watched for signs of someone coming. If the Master, they’d be in trouble. If Ven, they’d have to suffer relentless teasing, and maybe pay off his blackmail. 

When Terra was sure no one would see them, he went for it in spite of her whispered giggles and hushes. A warmth on his lips that burned on hers when the rest of her was cold, drenched, and shivering. 

I wanted to know what you taste like in the rain. 

He had tasted like water, a spring from the mountain.

She was close to Terra today. She’s sure of it. 

Tied to her sashes is her blue Waydfinder in immaculate condition, glass stronger than metal with a vibrance that’s foreign to her. 

It sits in her claw, blood red framing its brilliant shine. She’s done so well not to stare at it every time she felt nostalgic, but here she is now: a damn mess, with scales that cover skin, rough and pointed at the tips. Cold with layers of calloused leather that never molts unless she tears it off, building on top of her knuckles that folds as she retracts her claws, like there’s something slithering beneath. Her hands are now beyond repair, so thick that she’s unable to feel what she touches. 

I’m ugly, she realizes, keeping her claws contracted so they don’t scratch the surface of her Wayfinder. It’s still pretty. 

Dull stars float down to the entrance of the castle. Not stars, but a plethora of orbs, pairs of them as her Heartless pile on top of each other and funnel inside, squirming themselves free. It would have been easier for them to make a line. They’re silly, sometimes. 

Something small butts its head into her—the six-year-old, scratching the tile as it makes space up against her belly. It lets her wrap her arm around it. Another Heartless nuzzles up to her chin. One sits at the crown of her head, and another nestles at the small of her back. More tack on, forming a seabed to let her rest. 

It would’ve been lonely otherwise. The night seems flippant now, impatient for the sun to come up in a world where it can’t shine. 

[lady-plantagenet]

What are your thoughts on Jaime x Cersei, Jaime x Brienne, Tyrion x Tysha, George x Isabel, and Henry VIII x Anne Boleyn? (Sorry for the long list!)

Glad to see someone else feeling charitable and letting me vent my unsolicited opinions 😂. Saved the George x Isabel for the last cause I’m sure it will be the longest lmao!

Asked Via: Send me a ship and I'll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it: https://lady-plantagenet.tumblr.com/post/627331607624302592/send-me-a-ship-and-ill-give-you-my-brutally

Jaime x Cersei: Despite it’s fundamental flaws, it is... titillating to read. The idea of people falling in love with their own other-gender counterpart is twisted yet so intriguing. I must confess that I am not as disgusted by incest as most people, so bear that in mind. The thing is, Cersei is definitely a narcissist with a lot of internalised misogyny and this ship just feels so justified to her character.

The issue is, and as the books go on, it becomes quickly clear that Jaime’s love is not as deep and as his appearance changes, and they no longer look identical Cersei’s own mental image, Cersei’s love also wanes and then you’re hit with how shallow it was. So I ship these two... but I also don’t because they’re toxic? Honestly, book-wise I am intrigued to see what will happen, if they end up together... or they don’t... either way I’m sure it will be quite a ride. You see, I’m not emotionally invested.

Jaime x Brienne: Oh the Sapphires... Obviously anyone who cares for Jaime’s wellbeing would want him to end up with Brienne as opposed to Cersei. I read this interesting theory recently on how these two don’t actually love each other but confuse their strong platonic feelings of affection for romance. You see, that’s also an interesting take as both characters are quite bereft off opposite gender friendships.

However, I strongly ship them romantically as well, Book!Brienne (hey show as well!) is truly admirable because based on her choice in men e.g. Renly, you can see how she had still not given up on her maidenly fantasies and I just love her for that, because true love isn’t something to which only pretty women are entitled. She in many ways represents salvation for him as she being a true knight in spite of her gender, can veer him back into the path of chivalry. He is most chivalrous around her, I mean, not only because her good conduct influences but also because he performs some of the most knightly deeds by cause of her e.g. rescuing her from the bear pit. I like this ship, it’s a good trope subversion.

Tyrion x Tysha: I find this one of the more heartbreaking ships of ASOIAF, because to me it represents Tyrion’s loss of innocence.

She is a haunting figure because of how small remnants of her memory were enough to pull Tyrion into the toxic relationship he had with Shae e.g. she too hard dark hair and there was music around when he met her. Its one of those weird (as @omgellendean put it in her brutally honest ask tag answer - a character who consists of only a name), but unlike Ashara Dayne, she is not idealised and given this over-the-top tragic story. So this elusive Tysha is an entity by what she symbolises: foregone youth and a sweetness that has no place in the ASOIAF universe.

Henry VIII x Anne Boleyn: As I said in my last ask. I cannot tolerate the romanticisation of infidelity, and that is especially when the male’s spouse is a wonderful woman fit for him and has done nothing wrong. I don’t have strong feelings against Anne Boleyn herself, as I prefer to see her as ‘Anne the Educated and Sophisticated Reformer’ as opposed to ‘Anne the Seductress’. Ugh let me just say... rule of thumb for whether it’s a good pair: Do thousands have to die for your selfish desire to be together? Yes? Then probably not meant to be. Just a thought.

I think Anne knew her own mind and I like to think her strong beliefs influenced her decision to breach this marriage (no I didn’t think she was her father’s pawn gah I’m sick of that term), but they were ultimately unsuited in everything and it was a passion brought about by Henry’s caprice. My heart breaks when I think on how Anne could have been happily married to Henry Percy. I’m also tried of this whole ‘master manipulator of men’s hearts’ reputation Anne is getting. You do realise refusing to be a mistress was not being a tease as much as it was just being a conventionally virtuous woman..? The girl knew her worth.

George x Isabel: Oh god. I promise to not start writing an essay. As weird as it is to ship dead people, they are my OTP, the main characters of my main historyfanfic, and frankly the most unsung couple of TWOTR. The fact that there are no records of letters or any particularly over-the-top romantic gestures by either of them, just intrigues me more because it was very much a relationship defined in subtle deeds. If you peruse the more academic TWOTR literature you can see all the fine but conclusive evidences of a devoted relationship: He posthumously enrolled her in a guild when he stayed there with his children (months after she died), he was buried together with her and her ancestors not his, how during 1470 he sent her to Exeter for her safekeeping while her mother and sister remained at Warwick and when a siege broke out he (and his father-in-law) immediately rode south to lift it and the amount of expenses and care he put into her funeral. Not to mention, the hassle it took for them to get married: years of trying to get a dispensation underneath the king’s nose culminating in them having to cross the channel.

The thing is, it had a lot of politics behind it and to be honest I don’t find that less romantic. It was one right for both of them: for the wealthiest heiress in England and the handsome younger brother and heir of King Edward - truly no one else would do for any of them. One of the things that grabs me is the medievalness of it all, how they were bound together by what was essentially a plan to reverse the country’s inevitable transition out of ‘bastard feudalism’. You also get a sense of how this marriage despite the ultimate failure of its purpose (to make George King) brought George the chance to establish himself as a major magnate through his wife’s lands which ultimately became his main source of power as opposed to his royal status. The relative peace that ensued after 1472 shows that his status as Warwick’s political heir (as Christine Carpenter put it) did something to placate the disapointment of not becoming king. So the way I see it, Isabel’s death took from him any of the satisfaction and peace she brought with her lands and persona as he once again reverted to his old (even more than before) reckless self. Not to mention the people he executed after her death in his grief believe in her to have been poisoned (most historians believe that’s unlikely).

Aside from that, in a society where pretty much everyone strayed (even Anthony Woodville had a bastard daughter), it is quite heart-warming how the man known for his treachery, happened to be one of the only ones loyal to his wife: no bastards or women were ever linked to his name not even in rumour. As for Isabel, she is quite a shadowy figure but you get the sense she was intelligent because of the care her father took in preparing her as his heir, because of her wealth you get this sense of majesty and significance about her. The two times we can deduce anything about her personality is a true supporter of her husband: once, when deciding to treat with the Yorks behind her father’s back to reconcile George to them, second, remaining steadfast to George when he tried to squirrel her sister Anne out of her inheritance. Based on the homage she paid to her ancestors, she seems proud of her ancestry so it’s quite intriguing to think why she made the aforementioned two choices, endangering her father and sister in favour of her husband. And oh god I’m rambling, I can say even more if you can believe it but I shall stop. Overall, one might think I’m wishful thinking but frankly Anne and Richard are touted as star-crossed lovers all the time and with even littler evidence to support it (not that I don’t ship them, I do). I might be subjective, but the story of George and Isabel’s life is just so compelling...

[pokemonislanderprincess]

Contest for the shipping meme?

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - May and Drew are the personification of “good luck trying to return me without the receipt” while drunk and holding a match up to their marriage certificate. For reference, May is the drunk one holding the lighter, and Drew is in the corner trying not to laugh his ass off. They’re solid, despite the (read: May’s) chaos.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - May and Drew probably got together the quickest out of all of their friends. They both knew within a year of meeting that they liked one another, and it only took about another two years for them to both confess.

How was their first kiss? - They’re about 13, so it’s kind of awkward, very short, but still sweet. Drew gives May a rose after a contest, and they’re already “kind of sort of” dating, so May just kind of leans in and goes for a little peck, which Drew returns.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Drew. In a field of roses and Beautifly very reminiscent where May’s parents got engaged.

Who is the best man/men? - Best Man: Max. Groomsmen: Ash, Brock, Cilan, Clemont.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Maid of Honor: Dawn. Bridesmaids: Misty, Solidad, Iris, Serena.

Who did the most planning? - May and Drew actually did a lot of the work together, mostly because May knows Drew is more lowkey than her and wants to make sure he’s comfortable with the plans.

Who stressed the most? - May. Her friends heard about every single wedding related nightmare she experienced (and there were a lot.)

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Harley...initially. Solidad eventually convinces them to invite him. They both regret it within five minutes of the wedding.

Sex:

Who is on top? - This is something they tend to compete for, although Drew normally wins out.

Who is the one to instigate things? - May. She loves to flirt.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Drew lasts a while. May...not so much.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Heck no! It’s basically a contest, and there can only be one winner.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 2

How many children will they adopt? - 0

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Drew

Who is the stricter parent? - Drew

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - May...this is the one thing she’s pretty strict with because she’s really afraid of injuries.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Drew

Who is the more loved parent? - May and Drew’s kids love them equally, but know which parent to go to if they want something specific.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - May. She’s also most likely to bring the snacks to the kids’ activities, go on field trips, etc. She really enjoys socializing with the other parents.

Who cried the most at graduation? - May. She starts crying before the ceremony even starts.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - May. These kids do not want to cross Drew.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Drew

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Drew. Not because he has a limited palette, but because he refuses to eat a majority of junk food. May, on the other hand, eats everything.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Drew, because May buys too many snacks and not enough “real” food.

How often do they bake desserts? - Quite a bit! Baking is one thing May learns to do relatively well, so she enjoys whipping something up from time to time.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - May will eat anything, although she often complains that most salads aren’t filling enough for her. Drew veers more towards salads, but won’t turn down meat based meals, especially when they’re well done.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Both: Drew at home, May out at a restaurant. 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - May. She’s always reading up on popular or highly rated restaurants and always wants to try them.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - May. It’s happened before. Several times, in fact.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Drew

Who is really against chores? - May. She just thinks it’s kind of a waste of time because “it’s just gonna get messy all over again.”

Who cleans up after the pets? - They both look after their own Pokemon.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - May. Drew finds her trash and other things all over the place.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Drew used to, but he kind of just gave up at some point. So if people come over and see a mess May left behind, Drew just shrugs it off with a “yes, this is my life.”

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Drew. It’s May’s. Sometimes he gives it back...sometimes he keeps it. Depends on his mood.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - May, although Drew is not quick by any stretch of the imagination.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Drew is more likely to be seen out exercising with the Pokemon. May kind of has to be bribed to do it.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - May loves decorating for holidays! It actually gets to be a little garish.

What are their goals for the relationship? - They both love each other and want to have fun, although Drew is more determined to keep their relationship private than May is.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - May

Who plays the most pranks? - May...Drew never even retaliates because he can’t be bothered.

[searchingwardrobes]

Self-Promo Sunday: Poison Ivy

Summary: A ridiculous and silly little ficlet about what happens when an OTP who can’t keep their hands off each other come in contact with poison ivy.

I was inspired to write this after my husband got into some poison oak while doing yard work. Lucky for me, I'm not at all allergic to either poison oak or poison ivy. I could roll in the stuff and not be affected. So then I thought, what if our OTP wasn't so lucky? ;)

Words: about 1,500

Rating: T for references to workplace sex

On Ao3 until Sunday, December 8th, 2019

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @xhookswenchx @teamhook @bethacaciakay @whimsicallyenchantedrose @distant-rose @delirious-latenight-laughs@optomisticgirl @spartanguard @profdanglaisstuff @tiganasummertree​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @snidgetsafan​ @branlovestowrite​ @scientificapricot​ @stahlop​ @hollyethecurious​ @shireness-says​ @winterbaby89​ 

Sheriff Emma Swan made her arrival to the station so loudly known that it made Killian jump. And pirates are normally difficult to rattle. Emma stomped, kicked a chair, cursed loudly, and tossed her red leather jacket violently across the room.

"That woman," she fumed, pacing with her hands on her hips.

"I take it the weekly meeting with the mayor went well," Killian noted dryly as he sipped his coffee.

Emma rolled her eyes as she perched on the edge of Killian's desk with her arms crossed. "Do you know what she had the audacity to suggest?"

Killian raised both eyebrows. "Can't say that I do."

"She suggested that the two of us were using the station to . . . to . . . " Emma blushed uncharacteristically as she gestured vaguely with her hands. "Engage in . . . workplace sex." She turned absolutely crimson when she finally blurted it out, then got up and began pacing again. "She said we can't keep our hands off each other in public, so naturally she had to assume we’re making good use of our time alone here. Those were her exact words, Killian! Can you believe her?"

When Emma turned to her husband, she was irritated to find him smirking. One eyebrow was quirked, his chin was dipped, and his tongue slid scandalously across his bottom lip. "I'm afraid I can believe her, love. Or have you forgotten the way we used my desk just yesterday?" He then lounged back in his chair, drumming his fingers against the top of said desk.

Emma threw her head back and groaned in frustration. "That was just the one time -"

"And the time on your desk, and the time on the cot in the cell, and the time against the bars in the cell, and the time with the handcuffs -"

Emma cut him off with a hand to his lips. "You've made your point." Then she sighed, her hand still pressed to her husband's mouth. "But we're going to stop. As in right now. Got it?"

She could feel Killian's warm lips spread into a smile beneath her hand, and as she gazed into his eyes, she thought for about the hundredth time how expressive those blue eyes could be. She read them like a book in that moment - and they screamed that he didn't think she had the self control. Then he had the audacity to part his lips and swipe at her fingers with his tongue.

"Killian Jones!" she screeched as she yanked her hand away.

"Alright, Swan," he laughed merrily, "we will be nothing but business from now on."

***********************************************************************************

Emma's side ached and her calves protested as she ran full tilt through the woods. A month of peace in Storybrooke, and she had gone completely soft. This was what she got for making sex her main source of exercise (although Killian was rather good at giving her a thorough, full body workout). She jumped over a log and winced as the shock reverberated through her legs.

"Through that brush!" Killian shouted ahead of her as he veered to the left.

Emma almost immediately heard Tootles shout in protest as Killian shoved his way through a thick cluster of bushes. Since her husband seemed to have caught the miscreant, she took a moment to breathe, bending over her knees as she clutched her side. Killian made his way through the thick undergrowth, hauling a scowling teenager by the scruff of the neck.

"What is this?" the kid screeched, swinging at Killian without making any impact. He was short for fifteen, and rather soft around the middle with a head of curly red hair.

"You were vandalizing public property," Emma panted.

Tootles sagged in Killian's grip, his expression turning suddenly repentant. "I'm sorry. I swear I won't do it again."

Emma crossed her arms and scowled at the former lost boy. "You've said that before. Your foster parents said the next time we picked you up, to let you sweat it out in the holding cell."

"What!" Tootles eyes went wide with shock.

"You heard her," Killian muttered, shoving the boy forward, "now march."

*******************************************************************************************

Later, Emma would have to admit that she had no defense for what happened next. It wasn't as if one thing just led to another. Oh no. The whole way back to the station with Tootles, she had replayed in her mind how Killian had looked racing through the woods. The way the muscles of his backside clenched in those tight jeans of his. The way he didn't even get winded. How lithely he had sped over roots and fallen logs. So by the time they had returned to the station, called Tootles parents, and got the juvenile delinquent locked up, Emma was positively hot and bothered. Which was why she followed Killian into the filing room.

And why she had locked the door behind her.

She would never hear the sound of a slamming drawer the same way again.

**********************************************************************************************

The first sign of something being amiss was Tootles. His scratching was so loud, it was distracting Emma from her paperwork. Then the boy was whining that he itched, and could he PLEASE call his mother. Killian snapped at him to shut up.

But then Killian started itching, too. Emma thought nothing of it at first; he was always itching behind that damn ear. (Honestly, it was adorable.) It was also nothing new for him to itch at his scruff occasionally, or even his chest hair. But soon he was scratching so much it drew Emma's attention.

"Killian!" she cried out.

"Bloody hell," he muttered as he looked down at his good hand.

"I tried to tell you," Tootles whined from behind the bars. "Now can I call my mom?"

"No," Emma and Killian snapped simultaneously.

Emma looked sadly at the bright red rash covering Killian's hand. His clothing had protected most of his body, but the rash crept up his exposed chest, along his neck, and up around his ears. She could even see a red rash beneath the scruff on his chin and cheeks.

"Oh baby," she sighed in sympathy as she reached out to run her hand through his hair, but then she thought better of it, and gave his shoulder a squeeze instead.

"What is it?" Killian wasn't even looking at her as he asked, just staring in horror at his reddened hand as he scratched at his chest with the curve of his hook.

"Poison ivy," Emma explained. When she saw the look of horror on her husband's face, she rushed to explain, "but not really POISON, like dreamshade. It just gives people a really bad rash."

Emma bit her lip as she looked over her husband then at an equally red and splotchy Tootles. It was clear the plant wasn't something found in Neverland or the Enchanted Forest.

"And you didn't think to warn me before I went barreling through it?" Emma winced at Killian's words, but as she watched him scratching his neck carefully with the pointed end of his hook, she knew he was simply cranky and miserable with the itching.

"I'm sorry, babe. I've lived most of my life as an urbanite. I can never remember what the stuff looks like. The saying is . . . what? Leaves of three let it be? I don't even know. And does that mean three points on one leaf or three leaves on the stem?"

"Well it doesn't bloody matter now," Killian muttered, rubbing his affected hand up and down his jeans. "What am I supposed to do?"

Emma sighed and grabbed the keys to the bug. "I'll go get some Calamine lotion."

*****************************************************************************************************

Dark Star Pharmacy was completely empty, so Emma asked Sneezy to tell her all that he knew about poison ivy. The dwarf was thrilled to be asked for his professional assistance, and told her more than she ever wanted to know as he rung up the Calamine lotion.

"And make sure he washes his hands - er, hand," Sneezy continued as he handed her the bag, "if he touches anyone with that ivy sap still on his hands, or other parts of his body, it will spread the rash."

Emma froze as she took the bag, the color draining from her face.

"Damn it."

*****************************************************************************************************

Regina Mills stood smirking in front of a very sheepish (and very red, very blotchy, and very pink) Sheriff and Deputy of Storybrooke.

"You know, I would have expected this from the pirate. But you, Sheriff?" Regina's mouth twitched as she looked at Emma, barely containing her smile. "I would have expected more self-control from you."

"Shove it, Regina," Emma muttered as she squirmed in her seat, rubbing her jean-clad rear end against the hard leather of the booth at Granny's.

Unfortunately, there were some places you just couldn't scratch in public.

[earnmysong]

ship ask, #15 & #30 for Sophie/Harry because they need a little more attention

sophie/harry

whether they go on vacations together and their locale of choice | yessss, definitely, of course! even before they’re officially linked in the personal sphere of life, they find themselves lingering after-mission when they’re called to destinations shiny and new (although, for soph, these are very few and far between!) once they make that particular transition, the only aspects of this routine that change are the length they allow themselves to stay and their ratio of wandering cities versus lazily lounging in their airbnb.

their most-repeated travel arrangement? italy! it’s the perfect combo of history and bookish nonsense [harry’s not-so-secretly a nerd] and artsy elegance for soph! like the perfect song, some places never lose their appeal!  

say anything | oh my god, so. i know the doctor parallel has already played, but. my absolute dream involves harry handling blood or other effects of injury - unexpectedly - like a pro. maybe he gave her those post-collision frozen peas a few episodes back because eliot was otherwise occupied!

super random? the way their christmas ensembles matched in yesterday’s episode murdered me!

feel feel to peruse the ‘musings...’ list and ask for any!

[writing-and-guacamole]

OTP AU PROMPTS:

1.~When I got chosen for this season of America’s Next Top Model, I wasn’t expecting my high school crush to be here too...but, uh, we’re about to be tied together in nothing but our swimsuits for a photo shoot, so...hey, I guess?

2.~I’m digging holes in my front yard to distract myself from stressful finals, and since it’s been pouring for the past hour, I’m wet, shivering, and can’t feel my fingers, and I’m just about to scream in frustration when an umbrella slides over my head and you’re standing next to me with a goofy little smile and tilted head, and it turns out that, yup, having an attractive and incredibly sweet person standing next to you is a much better distraction than dirt.

3.~I mean, I knew that meeting someone famous was cool and all, but seeing my favorite celebrity in the cereal aisle with their arms full of Lucky Charms boxes is honestly even better than I imagined. And...are those Hello Kitty pajamas?

4.~I’m an actor and I need to get in shape for a new role, so it’s decided that you’ll be my personal trainer.  At first I’m excited, but after you drag me out of bed at four a.m., take away my breakfast cinnamon roll, and make me exercise for six hours, I’m pretty sure I hate you. On the other hand, the day just ended and—is that a cookie? You brought me a cookie!? You know, you can’t just bribe me with...actually yes you can, hand it over, asshole.

5.~Some douchebag stole my bag and, like the impulsive shit I am, I take off running after him. He’s almost to the bus stop when I see you leaning against a brick wall, tall and toned, and since you‘re holding just what I need, I veer toward you, yank the orange from your hand, and throw it at the thief, who topples over like a domino. After I’ve retrieved my bag, I sheepishly brush off your bruised orange and hand it back to you with an apology and a promise to buy you another fruit.

(Bonus: And I may or may not have written my number across the orange.)

[shipmistress9]

About Time - 3/3

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: T

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Genre: Romance/Fluff/Mutual Pining

Summary: Just another Modern/College AU of how my OTP gets together. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

. o O o .

Right, so here's the final chapter to this mini-story. I honestly don't know what to think of it, but at least it's done? It feels pretty cheesy and stupid to me, but then, that's true for pretty much everything I write lately. 😪 

. o O o .

If Scott hears about this, Hiccup thought idly as he threw a hidden glance at Astrid checking the dessert menu. Then I’ll never hear the end of it. 

But no matter how much Scott might tease him  – and no matter how much Hiccup might wish for it – this was no date. Just two friends hanging out, chatting, and having fun. And it had been great so far. After his stupid slip up about inviting her to get naked in his flat, he’d managed to not embarrass himself again and be the polite host and good friend he usually was. There had been fresh tea and snacks when she’d joined him in his living room after taking a shower, and if her still slightly damp hair and flushed cheeks had made him blush too, then she at least hadn’t seemed to notice.

No, all in all, he really couldn’t complain about this afternoon with her; it had been filled with teasing and joking, just the same light banter as usual with the occasional more serious topic in between. And by now, he was actually sad that it was almost time to meet the others at the cinema. He’d quite enjoyed this not-date with only her. 

“Mmh, I think I’ll have tiramisu,” Astrid announced to the waiting waiter, then threw Hiccup an inquiring look. 

“And raspberry panna cotta for me,” he added and handed his menu back with a polite smile. 

The waiter nodded. “I’ll be back with your orders in a minute.”

Once he was out of earshot, Astrid smirked. “Good thing he’ll be back soon, or else we might be too late for the movie after all.” 

Chuckling, Hiccup shook his head at her. They still had more than enough time left, which was why they’d opted for dessert in the first place. “What, have you changed your eating habits?” he asked teasingly. “I mean, I’ve seen you practically inhale that pizza just now, and don’t get me started on the cake I made a couple of weeks ago.” 

“Ahh, that triple chocolate cake…” she all but moaned, her eyes fluttering shut at the memory. “You’ve got to make that one again soon. It was delicious!”

Her nearly indecent noise had made him swallow, but her praises soon were enough to focus on something at least a little more decent then how to make her do that noise again. “If that’s what Milady wants, I shall comply,” he replied overly formal, even indicated something of a bow, and was more than happy to see her laugh.

“So, are you my personal chef now? That sounds like an idea I could get used to.” 

Oh, me too! he added mentally, but quickly fought that thought down again. If he could, he’d cook every day for her…

Once their dessert arrived, Astrid tore into it with just as much gusto as he’d expected. It really was amazing what regular visits to the gym and working at a mechanics shop could do to a person’s appetite. When her dessert was gone, she threw a measuring look at his, biting her lower lip in such a cute way that Hiccup couldn’t help but smile. 

“If you want, I wouldn’t mind sharing this,” he said, pushing the bowl a little in her direction. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty full already. Will probably forego popcorn later, too.”

It was the truth, but sharing his dessert with her was something he would have done anyway. 

A few minutes later, the waiter came to take their empty bowls, asked whether they’d liked their desserts, and asked if he could bring them something else.

“Only the bill,” Astrid replied cheerfully. “We still have plans for tonight!” 

Her reply made Hiccup’s lips twitch. What would the waiter make of such a comment? 

Out of reflex, he reached for his wallet when the man returned with the bill, but paused in his movement when Astrid waved him off. “I’ll take over the bill today. You’re invited, remember?”

Right, she’d said something like that earlier… Still, Hiccup’s first instinct was to protest nonetheless. He certainly had enough money to invite her instead, or at least to pay his own part of the bill, especially with how tight she usually was on the money. But then he remembered who sat across from him. 

Astrid Hofferson was not one for stupid boasting. She knew what she wanted, and when she wanted to pay for his meal today despite knowing that she didn’t have to, then he would respect her decision. 

“Thank you,” he said with a genuine smile after they’d left the restaurant and headed back to his car. 

Astrid’s smile turned noticeably warmer, her eyes shining s few shades brighter. “You’re more than welcome!”

However, on the drive to the cinema, she was oddly quiet for once, and Hiccup was a little worried if he should have protested after all. Well, he could still take over paying for her ticket now, in case she let him. And then apologise some more later; he even contemplated baking that favourite cake of hers over the weekend to surprise her on Monday. He just hoped that he hadn’t offended her in any way and that she eventually would tell him if something was off. 

When they’d reached the parking lot, however, it seemed as if he didn’t need to wait another couple of days to learn what was bothering her. He’d walked around the car, ready to head up to the illuminated cinema in the distance, when she suddenly reached for his hand and held him back. Hiccup turned, puzzled but also a little anxious. She didn’t say anything though, only held his hand tight and looked up at him with her lip tucked between her teeth and a flicker of insecurity in her eyes.

And then, she stretched and before Hiccup knew what was happening, she was kissing him. 

At first, he was frozen in surprise, too stunned to process what was happening. But as soon as her lips were moving against his, slow but sure, he found the nerves to kiss her back. Hesitantly, he moved a little closer, his lips sliding along hers. He could feel her smile against his mouth, and a low humming vibrated through them both without Hiccup being able to determine who it was coming from. 

Was this real? He felt es if he was dreaming, afraid he might wake up any moment now. Gods, he'd dreamed about kissing her so often…

But he didn't wake up, not when her hands curled around his neck and face to pull him closer, deeper, and not when his wrapped around her waist to do the same. The moment was just building and building, their kiss intensifying until they had to part in order to breathe. 

“What’s this?” he asked, murmured into the tiny space between them with their forehead resting against each other. He was afraid to ruin the mood with those stupid words, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to know… 

Astrid chuckled softly. “I don’t know yet.” she sighed.  “But I’ve thought about this for so long, and I got tired of just thinking.” She hesitated, and then added, “Is… is this okay for you?”

Hiccup couldn’t help the shaky laugh that escaped him. She’d thought about this? About kissing him? About them? 

Gods, please don’t let this be a dream!

He retreated to be able to look at her, to meet her beautiful blue eyes, so dark in the upcoming night. “I’m okay with this,” he whispered. “More than okay! But… what is this?

Again, she chuckled. “Whatever you want it to be?” She paused, her gaze becoming more intently. “I like you, Hiccup. I don’t really know what this is or what it will become, but… But I’d like to try.”

Slowly, he reached up to caress her face, carefully, still afraid she might resolve into mist at any moment. “I’m okay with that,” he mumbled. “Because… I like you too.”

He wasn’t sure who started it then, who pulled who closer. All he knew was that a moment later they were kissing again, and this time, neither seemed willing to stop again, the sensation of actually, really, truly holding her like this overwhelming. This wasn’t the first time he was kissing someone, not by far, but he’d still never kissed anyone like this, with such hunger and eagerness. It was wonderful, her warmth beneath his hands, the scent of mayweed and sandalwood –  her shampoo and his shower gel –  and hearing nothing but their little gasps and the nearby street. His lips parted when she let her tongue glide over them, his hands becoming bolder and roaming up and down her sides when hers did the same on his back, keeping him close. Time lost all meaning to him as they kissed, as he was finally able to be that close to her after all the months of pining. He never wanted to stop again. 

However, reality eventually caught up with them again. The flashlights of a car passing by reminded him of where they were and that they’d actually had a plan for today. During a quieter moment, with just hands caressing and lips softly sliding over skin, he whispered in a raspy voice, “We should get up there. I bet the others are waiting for us, or maybe the movie even already started.”

But Astrid didn’t seem to be inclined to leave their cosy bubble.

“Screw the movie!”

Laughing quietly to himself, Hiccup didn’t resist as she pulled him into yet another kiss. She was right, after all; it wasn’t as if he was that keen on watching the film – or wanted to go and meet the others right now. What would they even tell them? Besides, making out here in the parking lot was so worth missing any movie. Especially when she tugged his shirt out of his trousers and let her hand glide beneath, roaming over heated skin. A low groan rumbled through him as she licked at the inside of his cheek, and pulled him even closer still until nothing but a few layers of clothes were between them and she was pinned between him and his car behind her. 

Their interactions quickly turned more heated then, panted breaths mingling, hands clinging and pulling, bodies searching contact and friction on their own volition. Soon they’d be veering towards public indecency, and even though Hiccup didn’t want to, he pulled away from her to regain a certain minimum of distance between them. 

“We should probably go somewhere else,” he gasped hoarsely, fighting the urge to simply not care and keep making out with her like this. “Maybe some bar or club?” Somewhere where they could dance or talk privately, but with people around to keep them on track. 

“True,” she mused, something of a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “I’d suggest going back to your flat… but you know the dating rules about no sex on the first date.”

More heat rose to his cheeks and pooled in his belly at her words. Not that his thoughts hadn’t drifted into that direction already, but her saying it made the idea more real. She was right, not tonight, but someday...

Tearing himself away from that topic, he forced his thoughts to focus on what else she’d said. First date. That meant there would be more coming, right? Gods, he hoped so! He’d yearned so long for his best friend. But that wasn’t what she was anymore, was it? Not if he interpreted her words right. That thought made a fresh wave of joy bubbled up inside him. They certainly were more than just friends now, right? He wasn’t bold enough to call her his girlfriend, not yet, not even in his mind, but surely, eventually–  

He was grinning like an idiot at that idea, but her next words threw him off track nonetheless.

“But you know what?” she asked as she pulled him back against her, a fire in her eyes that made him choke. “Screw the rules!”

 Epilogue

On Monday, Hiccup still wasn’t able to get that stupid grin off his face, not even when he spotted Scott, T, and Justin waiting for him in the cafeteria. He and Astrid had spent the entire weekend together, minus yesterday afternoon where they’d agreed that parting to get their coursework done and generally catching up on life might be the wiser choice. 

Not that he would have minded if she’d stayed at his place a little longer. Gods, these two days with her had been amazing. Of course, there’d been… intimacy. But beyond those mindblowing hours with her in his bed, there’d also been so much more! There’s been a lot of talking, about them as a couple but also about ordinary or trivial things, funny things. Laughing with her had never felt so liberating before. They’d ended up watching a film or three after all, cosily cuddled up on his couch, and she’d let him cook for her, something he’d wanted to do for a long time now. They’d even gone to the nearby grocery store, hand in hand, to get the ingredients for her chocolate cake, and preparing the dough and the icing with her constantly pinching bits had been quite a challenge – but one he’d take again every day. And not just because it meant he could kiss icing off her lips more often.

All this had come with an incredible lightness. Hiccup had often wondered how their relationship would change in case his daydreaming ever lead to more. But now, he was pleasantly surprised to know that it hadn’t changed all that much. Sure, there were the hugs and hands suggestively trailing along exposed skin, there were the kisses, the quick pecks in passing and the deeper ones he completely got lost in, and there were the nights of heat and being one and cuddling afterwards. But all that only seemed to add to the close friendship they’d shared before and didn’t push aside the easy bantering or quick exchanges of witty comments. In the end, it was even better than anything he ever could have dreamed of. 

Was it even surprising that his happiness couldn’t be contained? 

“Hey, Hiccup! Where were you on Friday? We were worried when you didn’t show up,” Justing greeted him, concern clearly written all over his face. Despite his happiness, it made Hiccup feel a little bad; he hadn’t wanted to make his friend anxious. 

“Hey, yeah, sorry that I didn’t get around to text you. I–”

“–had a busy weekend, I’d say,” T interrupted him with a smirk and inspected the lovebites Astrid had left on his neck. They were in various states of healing, the earliest ones from Friday already showing green and yellow edges. He’d contemplated covering them with a hoodie or even a scarf, but ultimately decided against it. It wasn’t as if his new relationship with Astrid was something he wanted to hide. “Odin, did she try to eat you, H?”

Right… thanks to his sister, T probably already knew. Girls apparently really were quicker when it came to gossip.

Justin still looked confused though, even as Scott’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Don’t tell me… I mean, we all wondered when you both didn’t show up, but…”

He didn’t get the chance to continue whatever he’d wanted to say for, in that moment, Astrid appeared between them, seemingly out of no-where. 

“Hey, babe,” she greeted him before placing a firm kiss to his lips. “I don’t have much time – my lecture started about five minutes ago. Just wanted to say good morning and ask whether you’ve found my bra by now? I really don’t understand how it disappeared just like that.” 

If Hiccup hadn’t been sure whether or how much he should tell his friends, those questions had just become irrelevant. Not bothered by the gaping eye on them, Hiccup’s hands curled around her slender waist and held her in place just a tiny bit longer to kiss her again before he released her. In passing, she winked at him, a devious little smirk playing around her pretty lips, and he really couldn’t help his grin getting wider. “Not yet,” he called after her. “You sure it’s got to be in the bedroom?” 

Her only answer was her cutely chuckling some more before she disappeared behind the next corner.

“Any more questions?” T asked with an equally wide grin on his face. 

Justin only stood still, gaping, while Scott gave something of an annoying snort. 

“Yeah, right. You’re just friends. You know I never believed you anyway, right?” Then his expression turned into a grin and he gave Hiccup a friendly clap on the shoulder. 

“Was about time, man!”

 . o O o .

I hope it wasn't completely horrible... 😪

And I said I'd say something about what inspired this story, so... The lyrics that started all this are from 7 minutes by Dean Lewis. "And that movie that we missed 'Cause we were hanging out in the parking lot"

[ladyanatui]

Who Wears the Pants *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke can't seem to keep his pants on. Even in freezing weather.

Day #9 of the Digimon OTP Advent Challenge 2019: Shiver

AO3 | FF.Net

Ken's school let out early today, and the sixteen-year-old decided to take the train to Odaiba to surprise his boyfriend with an impromptu date. Daisuke loved surprises, and as long as he was the one doing the surprising, Ken did too.

Naturally, Ken arrived early. His private school in Tamachi had released at noon, but with a couple hours until Odaiba released, he walked around a few nearby shops.

The weather had turned cold—particularly cold even in winter—and even going in and out of shops, Ken was shivering by the time he waited outside of Odaiba High for his spiky-haired boyfriend to emerge in a throng of teens wearing iconic sky-blue blazers. Of course, most of those blazers would be hidden away under winter coats, but Ken wasn't so sure Daisuke would adhere to logic.

The bell rang, but Ken didn't move from his perch on the wall near the main exit, cell phone in hand just in case they missed each other.

He had no need to worry, though. Daisuke wasn't easy to miss when he stormed out of the building, pushing his way through a slow-moving group of first years and laughing hysterically, something clutched tight against his abdomen. It was no surprise when Takeru ran after him, his blond hair particularly messy, followed shortly by Hikari, Miyako, and Iori, snickering as they walked together.

Ken slipped off the wall, bundling his coat tighter and trying not to tremble.

And true to form, Daisuke noticed Ken the moment he moved. His face instantly brightened, and he veered in his boyfriend's direction, nearly knocking over a pair of his classmates in the process. He didn't slow down when he reached Ken, didn't hesitate before launching the full force of his body onto him, and Ken was thrown to the ground with his giant puppy of a boyfriend on top of him, kissing him with all his might.

"That's cheating," cried Takeru as he stumbled to a stop beside the pair on the cold, hard ground. "You can't use your boyfriend as your home base."

Daisuke's only response was to pull back enough to chuck the crumpled material between them at Takeru's face before diving back in for another kiss. Said crumpled material, which Daisuke had kept close after stealing it right off his blond friend's head, was Takeru's newest hat.

Hikari, Miyako, and Iori reached the group and paused behind Takeru, who sloppily yanked his hat back over his head, grumbling all the while. But it was only when it became apparent Daisuke didn't need oxygen to breathe that the complaints began.

With a sheepish grin—all pleasant and apologetic but not actually sorry for glomping him—Daisuke helped Ken to his feet. "What're you doing here?"

Ken barely managed to gather himself together. "Surprise?" he offered, cheeks flushed. His body was trembling, but it wasn't from the cold anymore.

No, despite the fact that his boyfriend wasn't wearing anything over his dark-blue sweater-vest over his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up at the elbows, tie mysteriously gone, Daisuke simply radiated heat with enough force to rival the sun itself. And when he grinned like he did at Ken's one-word response, the warmth increased tenfold.

Blush intensified, Ken turned to the other to pay his respects—it had nothing to do with trying to distract himself from the way his boyfriend's ridiculous grin dug under his skin and seeped into his very bones, not at all.

Takeru, a new denim hat with a wide brim forced too far down on his head, looked just as irritated as when he'd come running out of the building, but he chatted with Hikari, Miyako, and Iori amicably nonetheless. But the moment they realized the very public make-out session was finally over, they turned to greet him as well.

"Hello," Ken said in his quiet voice, and a small smile spread across his face.

"Hey, Ken!" Miyako greeted happily.

"Class out early?" Takeru asked.

He nodded. "Yes, we had a half day for the teachers to—"

Well, nothing beyond that was really important because then Ken's vision was blocked by dark material that landed haphazardly over the top of his head.

"Daisuke!" the group chorused.

Ken shook his head and scowled at the dark-gray cloth that landed at his feet. "Daisuke," he said, voice low, "why in the world are you throwing your pants at me?"

"In public," Miyako added, indignant.

Hikari sighed, exasperated. "Can you really not wait ten minutes to change at home, Daisuke-kun?"

But Daisuke just laughed as he turned to his boyfriend to fix his now messy hair. "Gomen, gomen. I got over-excited."

Ken shot him a glare, but per usual, he remained unfazed, totally unaware of the double entendre.

At least, underneath his uniform pants, Daisuke managed to wear a pair of dark-khaki shorts. No one understood how he could fit them comfortably under the dark-gray slacks, but no one could argue with Daisuke when it came to logic. Mostly because Daisuke defied logic at all costs.

"Sure, over-excited." Takeru snorted. "If this didn't happen every damn day, I'm not sure you should apologize for not being able to keep your pants on around your boyfriend."

Daisuke's face turned a dark scarlet. Finally, he understood. "Shut up, Takeru! At least I have a boyfriend."

The blond raised an eyebrow—he and Hikari had been dating for nearly as long as Ken and Daisuke. "At least I can keep my clothes on in public."

"I'm still wearing clothes, baka!"

"Half your uniform is missing." Takeru crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't go half a day without losing some part of it, but you manage to wear those dumb shorts under your pants."

Daisuke jutted out his bottom lip. "Pants are dumb. I don't see why we have to wear uniforms anyway."

"I bet you couldn't go a whole day without losing even one article of clothing," Takeru challenged.

Flustered, Daisuke spluttered to answer, but everyone knew he couldn't really argue against that. He hadn't managed it yet.

Ken sighed as he leaned down to grab the dark gray pants, buttons undone all along the sides from Daisuke tearing them off. "Really, Dai, we're second years. You've had to wear a uniform for over four years now. How is this still a problem?"

His boyfriend continued to pout.

To be fair, Ken probably should've commended his dedication to the quote-unquote cause. When his attempts to get away with wearing his favored cargo shorts during class were thwarted, Daisuke devoted hours upon hours every week to learning how to sew so he could alter the uniform pants.

His first plan was simply cutting off the bottom half of the pants and reattaching them with buttons, but then he was still stuck wearing slacks. That didn't last long.

After that, he discovered the idea of converting the uniform pants to tear-away pants, but that required him to further develop his sewing skills. Which he did, of course, and without complaint. And that means a lot when it comes to Daisuke. Eventually, he managed it—and then the struggle was finding shorts that fit underneath. Most of his shorts at the time were too bulky and obvious if he managed to fit them under the pants at all.

He had since mastered the whole affair, though. Obviously.

And really, how much could Ken complain about his boyfriend just tearing off his pants in one stroke?

Oh, yeah. Perhaps the fact that he did it in public and rarely even front of him. That was somewhat disheartening. Ken would much prefer it if Daisuke kept his ridiculous stripping habit in private. Preferably in Ken's bedroom.

Miyako snorted. "Don't tease him too much, guys." Not that her voice was any less teasing. "For all we know, he might declare another war on pants."

Iori shook his head, eyes wide. "No. Not again."

Miyako was now all-out laughing. "But it was great! He only got suspended thirteen times for refusing to wear them that first year."

"Fifteen," Ken automatically corrected. The current uniform pants were now folded neatly in his arms. "And why am I always the one having to fold these stupid things?"

Scratching the back of his neck, Daisuke simply grinned, but he accepted the folded pants and slid them into his backpack with grateful eyes.

Takeru raised an eyebrow. "How are you the one always cleaning up his messes? You're usually not out of class yet when he starts throwing clothes around."

Heat rose to Ken's cheeks.

It probably had something to do with the fact that Daisuke met him after school every single day, and they usually wound up doing homework and, ahem, hanging out at his apartment in Tamachi. Of course, Daisuke getting out his schoolwork always meant tossing the no-longer-worn pants out of his backpack, and Ken folded them for him every time. Daisuke always called him anal as he did it, but he also added how incredibly cute he was, and…well, they usually didn't get much homework done after that.

Daisuke slung an arm around Ken's waist and tugged him close. "If all goes well, he'll be cleaning up my messes for years to come."

Ken frowned. "That's…" He sighed. "That's a very nice sentiment."

Not very practical, mind you, but definitely a nice sentiment. Ken definitely preferred to think of their relationship in the long term as well, but he didn't necessarily envision himself being a perfect housewife who did all the housework.

Perhaps he wasn't being very practical either, though. He'd seen Daisuke's room in its natural state far too often.

And yes, folding.

Ken was pretty sure Daisuke didn't even know how to fold laundry.

When he shook his head at the thought, his teeth chattered.

"You okay?" Suddenly, Daisuke was in his face, worry lines creasing his forehead, and he tutted. "You're wearing like ten sweaters and a huge scarf. How are you still cold, Ken-chan?" Then, he turned to the others to give them a wave. "Later!"

They ignored the chorus of goodbyes in favor of Daisuke wrapping his arm around his shivering boyfriend and leading them toward the Motomiya apartment.

Ken sighed, snuggling closer to his boyfriend's heat. "You could at least have the decency to pretend to be a normal human being and wear pants when it's this damn cold like the rest of us," he said, burying his face in his scarf.

But Daisuke laughed. "What're you talking about? It's not that cold. But you know…" His voice took on a particular tone that sent a completely different kind of shiver down Ken's spine. "I could warm you up. It's not like anyone's home right now."

Ken pressed closer. Yes, that sounded like the perfect way to rid his body of this chill.

[darkpoisonouslove]

GriffinxCodatorta (I've seen fanart of them before and got curious on your opinions) FaragondaxSaladin GriffinxValtor (even though I'm sure I know) (:

1. Griffin x Codatorta - ????? I have seen that as an idea, too but just… ????? That’s my brain’s reaction. XD I just don’t know how to react to it. Now a big part of that might be because [SPOILERS] Griffin x Valtor is my OTP. But I ship Griffin well enough with other characters so… I guess it’s not that. I wish we knew more about Codatorta so I could make up my mind. But I guess I’ll just have to work with no info at all… again… always! Anyway…

So from what we’ve seen (which is nothing, but I digress) Codatorta doesn’t seem to have a problem with dark magic which I feel is an important thing to consider. Although there was that sort of argument in the first season in the 4kids dub where he might have leaned towards the idea that Griffin knew the Trix were descendants of the Ancestral Witches and let them into Cloud Tower even despite the fact that that was forbidden. … Aaaaand shit, now I’m getting a story idea instead of analyzing.

Okay, real quick (it won’t be) going on a tangent here. That could be a starting point for a relationship between them. He realizes his mistake of even thinking that when he sees how much the whole thing with the Trix affected her and how guilty she felt and he goes out of his way to apologize to her. He says that his opinion got influenced by all those horrible things the Council is trying to blame on her (I’m going off of strictly what you told me about that because I still haven’t read the comics myself) and he’s sorry. And he wants to get to know her better since they’re colleagues and he doesn’t want to make the mistake of misjudging her again. And one thing leads to another and boom, you have a relationship! (Well, that wasn’t so long)

Back to analyzing. Again, we don’t know much about Codatorta and from what I’ve seen the writers couldn’t make up their mind about him either. On the one hand, you have that time when he defeated Saladin at that board game (and Saladin is supposed to be the “wise” one though I feel like the writers kinda forgot that at times, too, but I’m rambling again). And on the other, you have the fight against Kerborg where he was being obstinate and ridiculous by insisting he could handle Kerborg on his own when that obviously wasn’t the case. So I don’t know what to think about it tbh. I feel like he could be a good partner for her to play chess with and maybe someone she can discuss strategies with (though I feel like Faragonda is better suited for that) but we should probably leave it at that.

This got so out of control that it requires a cut. Join me below for even more thoughts:

2. Faragonda and Saladin - you managed to give me the two ships that I’m completely clueless as to how I feel about! XD Guess we’ll figure that out together! Bettter strap in cause it’s story time!

So I was completely shooketh when I read (on Wiki) that Saladin dated both Griffin and Faragonda. And that doesn’t make any sense because I knew that. And I remembered it (not like with Daphne’s existence which I had completely forgotten about tbh). But just… ?!?!?!?!?! My only reaction to that info is… I can’t unsee it. And I know I had an idea about that a few years back but it went down the drain since I wrote down exactly five sentences about it and everything else just got away from me. Which I’m totally okay with btw because it made no sense at all and my portrayal of Faragonda was… inaccurate to say the least (meaning terrible and completely OOC). Spoilers, he ended up with Griffin in that idea but now I’m just ????????? How? What do you mean? That he dated them both?!?!? WHAT?!?!?! So my brain can’t really comprehend that. Like, at all. So bear that in mind for the rest of this.

Now I feel like the different dubs disagree on what exactly happened (whether he was two-timing them or not) and I’m going with what I feel happened. I can’t really see him two-timing them so I think he first dated one (Griffin) and then the other (Faragonda)… which is still so weird considering the relationship they have in the present but whatever. Now I have some headcanons about what exactly happened there but it comes up in one of my fics and so I’m not going to spoil it.

Anyway, on the topic of the ship itself *sigh* I’m still not any closer to figuring out how I feel about it. I feel like they’re good just being friends and WHY DID THE WRITERS HAVE TO BRING THAT UP?! You know, I don’t really see it. (That whole block of text for me to reach that conclusion. Amazing!)

I feel like Saladin isn’t characterized at all for me to be able to draw conclusions about his relationships with anyone really. I have to make up an entire personality for him in order to get invested in his relationships with other characters. And I feel like that’s exactly the problem when it comes to why I’m so detached from him. Like, Griffin and Faragonda have a history together, they have banter and they play off of each other. And even if we didn’t see a lot of their dynamic, we still saw enough in order to be able to draw conclusions about it. We saw them actually react to one another and express opinions about each other and even do convergence (which, I have to admit, is one of my favorite things on the show as it speaks volumes about their friendship). And Saladin is sort of the third wheel in that friendship. There was some mild involvement on his part in season 1 where he apparently acted as a buffer between the two since they weren’t speaking to each other but even then it was just too little to actually tell you anything about his relationship with either one of them. I, personally, like to imagine that he is protective of both of them and cares equally about them and tried to subtly nudge them towards each other (hence why he’d seated them together at that celebration) so that they would finally make up (whatever happened between them because nobody tells you shit about that). Please excuse my rambling but I just had feelings about this so I hope you’ll indulge me on this one and overlook the fact that I veered completely off-topic.

3. Griffin x Valtor - now we’re talking! YES! That’s my ship! It’s my OTP! I will go down with it!

Just like you said, there’s a lot of story there and also a lot of conflict and those are my two favorite things to work with when it comes to writing relationships. So how deep do you want me to go because I’m prepared to take a dive! XD Let’s just start and I’ll stop when I get tired of typing.

So I have a lot of feelings about this so what should we start with? Let’s go with magic because I feel like that was the beginning for them.

They were obviously brought together by magic since they were partners first in that but while the show stops there, I have no such intentions. Since they were partners, I am guessing they did convergence (and it was suggested by the show the way they were drawn in that flashback in 3x10), but not only that. I think they went deeper than that to the point where their magic was so entangled that they had to relearn to do magic on their own after their separation. And that kind of bond can only be accomplished with great trust between them which already resonates in how devastating the fallout was. I feel like Valtor felt betrayed on all levels because she didn’t only leave him as a partner whose magic she knew as well as her own but as a lover whose soul she knew as well as her own. And that means rejection. She saw his darkest parts and left him because of that. And Valtor is totally not one to deal well with rejection. But I feel like the arrogance and anger only cover up how much she actually hurt him. Add on top of that Griffin fighting against him and possibly doing convergence with Faragonda and he’s ready to murder them both out of pure rage and jealousy. Why should Faragonda accept Griffin’s darkness, the darkness he knows is there since he’s seen her soul when Griffin didn’t accept his?

I feel like this also plays in his other insecurities. He was created by the Ancestral Witches to be a monster. He was never given the chance to be anything else. He was supposed to be the most powerful monster that would bring his mothers victory. And when it looked like someone was finally willing to give him the chance to be something else, to love and to be loved, she took back the hand she offered him, confirming that he was a demon undeserving of love and that only pushed him further into the mindset of gaining power and causing destruction. If it is a monster she can’t handle, then a monster he’ll give her.

And then we have Griffin’s PoV on things which is where it gets even more complicated. The choices in that relationship were only hers. Valtor had made his choices a long time ago. He only wanted power and her (which might seem like two things, but the way things were, it was really one thing with two faces. His power drew Griffin to him and she helped him gain more power so the two were inseparable in his mind). I don’t really know where I’m going with this so, please, bear with me! XD I feel like there was this judgment from Griffin towards herself because she was the one to find fault in their relationship. Valtor had settled for what they had, he wanted her which is more than she could have hoped for knowing him. Yet, she is the one that sees an issue, she is the one that is sinking their ship (I couldn’t resist!). And so there’s that additional guilt that she can’t shake off because she was forced to make the hard call. She feels bad enough for betraying him but she knows that was necessary. The universe wouldn’t have survived otherwise. But there was also the guilt of betraying her own heart and, going even further back, of allowing herself to fall in love with him. And yet, she can’t make herself regret that or stop loving him which just brings about more guilt and it’s a never-ending vicious circle. And Faragonda’s understanding and acceptance really doesn’t help (it does help knowing she has support but it only makes her feel worse for choosing to go against him. She abandoned him. How can she accept unconditional support when she wasn’t ready to give it?)

Then we have those seventeen years that are just loaded with quiet, insidious angst that hides deep down. Just imagine Griffin catching herself yearning to see his face again and then her brain turns on and she remembers that he would probably kill her slowly and painfully if he ever escaped from Omega. Or she gets lost into a what-if scenario and then just wants to die because it will hurt less than what she’s doing to herself. And the worst part is she can’t really tell any of that to Ediltrude and Zarathustra. She’s scared of disappointing them. And she’s scared of not disappointing them enough. And again, Faragonda’s acceptance helps as much as it frustrates her because she shouldn’t be having these thoughts. He hates her. He will destroy her. And the entire universe. Why is she still in love with him? (Sidenote: I feel like crying now.)

And on Valtor’s end… Oh, I’m so mad that Valtor’s side of the story wasn’t discussed on the show at all. Not even in regards to Griffin’s betrayal. I just wanted some acknowledgement of what he went through. He was frozen in a fucking block of ice for seventeen years while completely conscious, not to mention full of rage and hatred and desire for vengeance. Like, that shit is traumatic no matter who you are. And add into that that his element is the Dragon Fire. They should’ve said something about that but all we got was a throwaway line that just brushed it off because he’s a villain and, for god’s sake, how can you even think of sympathizing with him?! He’s EVIL, dammit! EVIL, I TELL YOU! And what also gets me is that no after effects were shown either. Like, he hasn’t moved for seventeen damn years! His muscles should be atrophied and moving should hurt like hell until he gets reaccustomed to the feeling. But nope! We don’t get any of that because he might just become sympathetic and likable.

And one last thing before I end this since it got out of control like two hours ago. I got a review on one of my fics saying that Valtor locking Griffin up in a cell wasn’t a good enough revenge which I’ve had thoughts on and now seems like a good moment to share since this ask derailed a long time ago and the point is lost somewhere in the blocks of text where no one will find it so what the hell, let’s just throw some more text on top, right? XD

Now as my first point, it’s a cartoon. They couldn’t really do much more than that. They can’t have him kill her or torture her and any more personalized revenge would’ve required more insight when it came to their backstory so that was out of the question! (can you feel the angry?!) But when you actually think about it, I do think that it made sense. She ran away and betrayed him because she wanted to protect the universe and that led to him being imprisoned. So imprisoning her is getting back at her directly but it’s also a kind of torture on its own. She is trapped and can’t do anything to help anyone which was exactly the reason why she betrayed him. In addition, he left her the only one in Cloud Tower not wearing his mark which was very deliberate. If he was doing all of that just for the power of the Cloud Tower residents so that he could use them as minions, it made sense to put her under his control, too, since she’s the headmistress and, therefore, the most powerful person there. But he didn’t. He left her in control of her own thoughts and actions, and conscious so that she could feel the horror of his revenge, knowing that she can’t even help those she was supposed to protect and guide. Hell, she can’t even protect herself. And that was the only reason he even took over Cloud Tower. After Griffin was rescued by Winx, he just got up and left, releasing the witches from his control since, if you really look at it well, he didn’t really need them for his plans. Only for his revenge against Griffin. So that was actually a good example of great but too subtle writing that the show pulls off plenty of times. And then you have the disastrous writing from my previous point. I don’t wanna be salty, but why is the writing so inconsistent?!

I’m just gonna leave it off here because my brain will stop working and I think this got long enough already. So yeah, in conclusion, I have a lot of feelings on the matter.

[felicia-parker]

this may be a stretch BUT! 18 or 40 (both if you love me? :P) with clintasha?

#18 “I’ve got you.” (ily so this is no stretch at all!)It starts as a healthy race. At least that’s what Clint tells himself when she dashes past him and his slow shooting, his shoulder still hurts from the last mission but he does his best to take aim and bury the head of his arrow into the adjacent building. Natasha is already there before he can hook the metal angle of his bow over to glide across the street. She moves in the shadows like they’re an extension of her, each turn of her boots, is soft and calculating. She is silent, a spy to the very end even with him loudly crashing behind her. His own boots making echoes across the rooftop, he’s grinning when he catches up to her.“Getting slow Nat,” He teases her despite his lungs burning just to keep up. He makes a mental note to hit the gym a little harder and the pizza a little easier the next time Kate crashes on his couch. The sun begins to hit high noon and he can feel the sweat sliding along the back of his neck now. They’re halfway across the world, running across high rooftops of the expensive buildings Dubai has to offer. Nat doesn’t even seem out of breath as she casts him a glance over her shoulder, a wink follows suit. It’s a silent challenge to pick up the pace as she veers off to the left and leaps from one building ledge to the next, rolling upon impact to absorb any damage. The communication device on his wrist beeps. They’re getting close to their target. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be coming in hot any minute now, package in hand. They’re job is to keep it safe at all costs.The device in his ear crackles to life with a small burst of static before he hears her, “What was that about being slow?” He can hear the smirk curling across her red lips in her taunting as she waves to him from the corner of a glassy building, her eyes trained down to the roadside where the black semi-truck rolls through the city with a purpose. Natasha is keeping count, watching the vehicles around it as the truck speeds up and takes control of the road. Then she’s off again and so is he. Another vehicle is in the sky above them, buzzing through the clouds with camouflage. It’s backup that he doesn’t think they need, but the organization seems to think they do as he takes another arrow and aims with ease. “I am just getting warmed up,” He answers her as he zip-lines clear across the road, legs pulled up just enough to keep his momentum going. He glides past Natasha who is watching him with almost a sour expression, it makes him want to laugh as she takes off after him. They play this game while keeping one eye trained on the asset at all times. They’re professionals first, everything else is second and third and that includes the extra hotel key he has in his pocket from her. Clint lands and pulls out his next arrow like it’s second nature, fires away and jumps. That’s when the gunshots are fired. The truck on the ground squeals to a stop as black cars begin to close in around it. Panic fires off in the communication devices as the aircraft overhead begins descent. In a matter of minutes there will be plenty of heroes but a bullet has strayed through his line and now he’s falling without a net. It only takes a few seconds for the realization to him that he is losing arrows out of his quiver as he falls and his eyes begin to flutter shut when he feels something warm and solid collide with him.“I’ve got you!”  Natasha wraps an arm across his chest and the two go swinging south before he opens his eyes just in time for them to crash through the shining glass of a building’s window. Several desk employees run screaming as glass showers the room and they fall onto the floor together in a roll. He lets them roll one last time, taking the brunt of the fall with her landing atop. Red hair covers him like a curtain and he smiles when it tickles his cheeks  as he opens both eyes to see her staring down at him. Her blue gaze holds a flicker of concern before replaced with something more serious, “Idiot.”“You still caught me,” Clint tries and she digs her elbow into his chest playfully before pulling herself up, hand outstretched to him as he lays on the ground looking up at her with the sun spilling in behind her. She looks momentarily angelic, surrounded by the bright light of the sunshine as she ruins the moment for him. “Get up or get left behind.” A smile punctuates the statement and he finds himself returning it. SEND ME ONE OF THESE & AN OTP!