I couldn’t resist the lure of bitchy robots. Reverse Zenyatta is from @reversewatch see also: @heronfoot who makes beautiful arts. This my hands spat out in a hurry cause I was excited, the next one will be better. >_>
What if Harry and Draco had been together for a while and one of them had to go away for a while and they are on the phone and then one of them says "turn around" and there they are!!! Did this make any sense
Draco hated muggle devices.
He hated the ridiculously loud telly vision, he abhorred everything that had to do with the terrifying things called vacuum cleaners, and telly phones were no different.
They were small to hold, blindingly bright and too loud for Draco’s taste.
(That, and they didn’t exactly look pretty.)
(Yes, Harry did buy him a silver one, which was fine, but still.)
He never understood muggle devices, either. He just let Harry deal with that stuff, watching his boyfriend wave around with a duster, apparently persistent on using the stuff he’d grown up with rather than using his wand.
(Harry had always been stubborn, after all. It’s why Draco had fallen for him in the first place. Well, that, and of course his magnificent arse.)
The only times he liked to use phones was when his boyfriend - his stupidly successful and famous boyfriend - was out on a mission for work, unable to use magic to avoid getting his location known. Because then they could call, Draco standing in the dark of his bedroom, trying to keep his voice even and far from worried (Harry away on a mission always made him go crazy, but Harry didn’t need to know that.) Because then they could talk and talk and talk, Draco helping Harry to stay awake and focused, ending up falling asleep with each other’s breathing in their ears, a calming reminder that the other was still there, still alive.
Draco was standing in their bedroom right now, the blasted muggle device against his ear, Harry’s voice rumbling through the speaker.
And Draco was trying hard not to cry.
(Harry had been gone for almost two weeks now, and it didn’t seem as if the mission would be done very soon. He knew Harry’s job was important, he knew that the ‘bad guys’ needed to get caught, but goddamnit couldn’t the criminals give his poor boyfriend a break? Give him a break? He needed his boyfriend, he needed to hold his hand, he needed to kiss him until his lips were swollen and almost painful.)
“I miss you,” Draco whispered, not quite succeeding in keeping his voice even.
“I miss you too,” Harry murmured back, soft but not any less sincere. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Draco snorted - half a laugh, half a sob. “You better, you prick. I need someone to make a mess of the kitchen, it’s almost scary how clean it is nowadays.”
Harry laughed, and something twisted in Draco’s chest.
“I need someone to never turn off the light when they leave the room,” Draco continued, wanting to hear that laugh again and again and again - “I need someone to forget to close the fridge, I need someone who always leaves their glasses on their nightstand.”
“Someone to yell at you when you use up all the hot water again,” Harry chipped in, and Draco scoffed.
“As if you’ve never heard of warming spells, Potter.” When Harry didn’t answer, Draco sighed. “Just… Come back, alright? It’s boring here without your annoying face.”
“Hey, Draco,” Harry suddenly said, his voice sounding a bit off, “could you turn around?”
“Why would I -”
“Just do it.”
Half thinking his boyfriend had gone mad, Draco turned on his heels.
And promptly dropped his phone.
The loud crack it made when it connected with the floor didn’t bother Draco in the slightest - because oh, Harry was standing there, a stupid grin on his face and his eyebrows knitted together, ridiculously cute, his hair standing in every possible direction and holding his phone against his ear - such a unexpected sight that Draco had difficulty finding his breath.
“Uh, hi,” Harry said, waving sheepishly. “Surprise?”
“Harry,” he breathed, and he didn’t wait for Harry to say something - and jumped towards him, kissing him full on the mouth, his hands immediately in Harry’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard it must’ve been painful but he didn’t care because Harry was with him, Harry was home -
Harry’s phone dropped to the floor, too, when he automatically wrapped his arms around a crying Draco.
Headcanons of the new prettyboy…. ain’t that special.
He isn’t quite sure what to make of you at first. When he realizes you’ll be traveling with him, and you aren‘t going to leave, he just sort of shrugs and accepts it.
He’s rather cold sometimes - always moving, never seeming to care about you or even give you a second glance. Internally, though, he warms to you over time - though it’s never quite obvious from outside. The most hint he gives is half-laughing at some dumb joke or another that you make at his expense.
If you want a romantic relationship, you’re the one that’s going to have to drive it through his head. Ain can’t fathom why anyone would want to have a relationship with him, since he’s just here to fulfill the Goddess’ mission - but, if he’s being honest with himself, he likes you more than most other humans.
If and/or when you do get into a relationship, Ain is rather awkward. He does cliche romantic things like putting his arm around you, but he does it stiffly, like he’s not sure what he’s doing (which is true) and like he’s never done it before (which is also true). If you find that cute, more power to you. If you don’t, you’ll have to show him what you want.
That’s not to say he’s not assertive in his own right. He is. He’s got no problem bossing you around. Unlike most of the other people he bosses around, though, he makes it a point to treat you with respect and not condescend to you.
It’s sort of uncertain at first whether he’s the type to get possessive. But when the ocassion arises - someone else, heaven forbid, decided to wink at you - you all but have to take Ain’s pendulum to stop him from shattering it and drag him away.
While confident and cool most of the time, when you get closer to him, you quickly find out there’s another side to Ain - an insecure, anxious man who’s worried about doing Ishmael’s job right and worrying about his own tenuous existience. It’s up to you how you deal with this.
Day 4 of the 10 day Robron Challenge (Monday 13th Feb): Favourite Quote from another character about Robron
I obviously broke the rules here, but it was a really hard decision to make so I added 3 because I love them all. I knew I had to choose quotes from Victoria because she is as we all know, the fandom’s queen Robron shipper! It just felt wrong not including her in the challenge at some point.
I think we can all relate to her happiness and she has been so supportive of Robron’s relationship from the beginning which is what I love so much and why I chose her quotes!
So like imagine he rushes home because you just got the most terrible news or maybe today was the day from hell and he’s watching you pace around explaining everything and nothing at all because he can’t really understand what you’re saying under your sobs but there’s no way in hell he’ll make you repeat it. All he knows that whatever’s going on or whatever happened is terrible and he needs to listen attentively and hold you hand when you reach for him. Now he’s not a big cuddle person in my opinion, but it’s probably because he’s never been cuddled right before so at first he’s kinda just ghosting around you until you finally catch on and nuzzle into him more pulling him closer to you and releasing all the tension in his spine and he’s starting to understand that he won’t break you if he just holds you a little harder, and a little more- and before you know it the tension is releasing from your spine too and you sigh in relief because damn it was building up you thought you’d snap in two from the pressure but somehow it’s been washed away. And you sigh deeply into his chest and cry a few more tears till until your eyes a too raw and he’s getting fancy on you rubbing circles into your shoulders and kissing your forehead because he’s confident in caring for you- he knows now that he didn’t need to have an answer for your sorrows he just needed to be willing to listen to them and you marvel at him because he’s not used to this he’s used to you being able to take care of yourself but every now and then this feeling, Jesus he’s going to crave it now. The synchrony between you is on another level because he doesn’t rattle on about what to do next he just simply says “I’m here-” and it’s not something he read somewhere in a stupid list of things to say when you don’t know what to say, he genuinely means that he is here with you right now in this moment feeling everything you’re feeling because he’s watched every single one of your vertebrae unhinge itself under his touch and he truly believes in his ability to take on the world with you. And you’re beaming because it’s so much more than him being considerate, it’s him being a man living up to a promise he never had to say out loud. And you’re both in a state of bliss giggling like fools with faces pressed so close to each other you can see the laugh lines forming in his eyes and you think for the first time in your life that the horrors of this world aren’t so terrifying after all.
Author’s note: There’s
just a couple of cuss words. Just a heads up.
You’d got back from a mission late. It was nearing half past midnight when you’d
finally arrived back in the tower, you unlaced your boots in the elevator; so
you wouldn’t make much noise walking through the halls. When the elevator doors
opened, you carefully stepped out, being weary of any late night wanderers. You
finally reached your door, but as you went to open it, you could hear murmuring
across the hall. Bucky.
He must be having a nightmare again. You silently thought.
You dumped your boots outside your door and went to Bucky’s room. You didn’t
knock, if he was having a nightmare, immediate action was better than your
manners right now.
You looked at him, he seemed at peace, not thrashing about, not screaming. You
smiled to yourself and made your way to exit his room, he suddenly murmured to
himself again. You listened.
‘No….no I don’t want to join you. Don’t make me’
Your eyebrows creased, you frowned slightly. Was he dreaming
about HYDRA taking him back? You were half tempted to wake him, but then he
rolled over and muttered ‘Geez, fuck off Steve. Leave me alone’ A light giggle
left your lips, whatever he was dreaming about, it can’t have been that bad if
he was cussing Steve in his sleep. You left him and went to grab some overdue
You woke later on that morning, entering the lounge, you saw Bucky sat on the
couch, blankly staring at some stupid show on the television.
‘You alright Bucky?’ You asked, sitting in the corner chair, keeping your
He looked at you, concerned. ‘I’m good, why?’
You sighed ‘I heard you talking in your sleep last night, I was gonna wake you
up, but you started cussing Steve out, so I figured it can’t have been a bad
Bucky had turned a deep shade of red and you hadn’t failed to notice the colour
in his cheeks.
‘Was it that awful Bucky?’ You smiled, trying to make light of the situation.
Bucky ran his teeth along his bottom lip
‘I dreamt about you last night’
Now it was your turn to blush. ‘O-o-oh.’ You managed to stammer out.
Bucky quickly reacted to the tone in your voice ‘It wasn’t anything bad!’ He explained ‘I dreamt that you kept trying to get me to join this conga line along with
Steve, Natasha, Tony and Sam. I kept telling you no, I mean do I look like I
can pull off a grass skirt with coconuts? You left me alone, but Steve kept
trying to put one of those flower things around my neck, so I told him to fuck
You looked at Bucky for a second and burst out laughing, tears streamed down
your face and you had to hold your stomach because it hurt so much.
Bucky tried to contain his own laughter, seeing you in stitches. ‘It’s not
You started to regulate your breathing to calm you out of your laughing fit,
still wiping tears from your cheeks. After a moment, you responded to Bucky ‘Oh
it is Snowflake! Thanks for making my day!’
Bucky shook his head, still smiling at you. He got up from the couch. ‘I’m leaving;
I can’t stay in this room with you’ He left the lounge. You turned around in
your chair, calling his name to come back.
He poked his head around the corner ‘You promise to be good?’ You nodded,
slight mischievous smirk playing on your lips, before he even took another
step, you asked ‘But you have to tell me, did you join my conga line?’ Bucky
turned on the spot and made tracks to leave the lounge once more.
‘Buuuuuuckkkkkkky!’ You called after him, still sitting in your chair.
‘Fuck off!’ Bucky’s reply echoed down the hallway, as you sat laughing in the
The morning breeze tickling your nose was what first caught your attention as you were slowly dragged from your slumber. The second thing was just how cold you were because yet again, Jimin had stolen the duvet. The third was the light making the back of your eyelids just a bit more red than black. Lastly, was the absence of a familiar weight around your midsection.
Blinking and struggling to adjust to the light trickling through the open window (thankfully the thin curtains were down, somewhat shielding you from the onslaught of UV rays), you turned your head to see a mess of black hair and swollen red lips. Just the sight made you smile; you turned your whole body just so you can look at the boy next to you.
Jimin’s hair was everywhere, and thankfully it was just short enough that it didn’t cover his eyes (well, it wouldn’t if they were open). It looked just as silky as you knew it felt, having ran your hands through it just the night before. You wanted to do it again but withheld the urge: you didn’t want to wake him up just yet.
His head was securely tucked into his pillow, his arm curled under it to keep it close, and the duvet was pulled up to his chin. The only indication of his tight grasp on it was the way it scrunched up a little further down from the top, exactly where it was tucked under his side so it wouldn’t move. The arm that usually would be resting lazily across your stomach was up, it’s hand pressed against his chin and the bottom of his lip. It only served to make his lips fuller, if that was possible.
His lips. Red and swollen, they were pursed ever so slightly, almost as if he were pouting, with a small gap inbetween. At random moments when he’d jerk in his sleep, they’d pop out a tiny bit more, practically begging for your attention. It took everything within you not to lean over and press your own lips against his, just to feel the cracks and rough patches on them before he covered his lips in lip balm.
With his lips pursed, the hollows of his cheeks—the right side with a small breakout, almost too light to be noticed, even without makeup—sucked in a tiny bit. It did nothing to hide the puffiness of his cheeks, though. You never quite knew why, but every morning his face seemed to be puffier than usual. You didn’t mind; it was one of many things you absolutely adored about him.
His delicate eyelashes rested against the tops of his cheeks, somewhat covering the purplish bags from all the nights he spent up in the practice room, memorizing choreography with Hoseok so they could help the other members learn it. You remember many caffeine charged nights spent waiting for him, just so you could let him fall asleep with you holding him. Whenever he was exhausted, he always became the little spoon, no matter what, and you were okay with it.
The only sound in the room was that of his soft snoring, almost quiet enough to be mistaken as simply breathing. You had barely even noticed that you were holding your breath, as if just the sound of it could wake him—ridiculous really, considering you knew just how hard it was to wake him up. So, as you let out a breath, a lazy smile found its way onto your lips, and you leaned forward.
As you got closer, you noticed he had forgotten to take his earrings out. Even closer and you noticed the small bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. Closer still, and you could feel his soft breath, steady and warm against your skin. Your lips softly touched his, unable to hold yourself back, and as your eyes fluttered closed, his fluttered open.
He leaned in, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself underneath him: his firm, bare chest pressing against yours and your palms flat against it. Jimin pulled back, his large, warm eyes gazing down at you with a small smile playing on his lips. You giggled softly, leaning up to catch his lips again in a quick peck, uncaring that both of you probably had horrible morning breath.
“You know what they say… feed.” “Because they really really go to school.” “Yeah well… tough.” “Because I said so that’s why.” “You know why Stone Cold can’t grow hair? Because he’s bald.” “Oh would you pack it in?” “What’s her name from Beetlejuice? Wydoda?” “Then I would run upstairs whenever the Daleks came on telly.” “I’m gonna feckin hit you in a minute.”
“That crime show? ASCI? No? CS.. CSI!”
“I changed it to mermaids because the picture was fuzzy.” “If mum wakes up… god help you.” “I’m hungry and don’t know what I want.” “Who ate all my nuts?” “Do you want them in the oven, or oven is grilled?”
Here. Have a super short ficlet thing that I couldn’t get out of my head because I love Pongo and I love Regina and Pongo and I couldn’t help myself.
She feeds him when she thinks no one is looking. Sneaks him food from her plate as he sits under their table, silent save for the soft whining he makes when she takes too long. And she knows, she absolutely knows, that she shouldn’t be indulging him – but she can’t help it. Sometimes, he’ll move until his head rests in her lap, and if she bows her head, she can see his nose peaking out from under the table. It’s their little secret, something that’s meant just for her and just for him and it’s been that way for years.
Archie knows, of course. Pongo disappears as soon as he walks through the door and his doctorate may be forged but that doesn’t make him an idiot. His dog leaves him only in favour of one other person, and he doesn’t reappear until she’s gone.
The first time it happened, he’d watched in amazement as the cold and otherwise aloof Mayor stiffened at the Dalmatian’s presence before a tentative hand fell on to his head and nails scratched behind his ear. It was the first time Archie had ever seen Regina look content, and he was the last person who wanted to ruin that. So he’d turned his head, and pretended not to notice, even when Regina had left and his dog had returned to his side with syrup sticking to his fur.
Not many people notice, but Granny does. And it’s the two of them who share a smile when Regina walks through the door and suddenly the diner is dog free, or so it appears. Granny adds an extra pancake to Regina’s plate every morning, an extra strip of chicken to her salad during lunch and brings a bowl of fries that Regina would never ordinarily touch that is mysteriously empty come clean up.
He sits by her feet during their meetings, sometimes even by her side half in her lap and she never seems to mind. He calms her down, something Archie is quick to notice and so whilst Pongo usually isn’t allowed on the furniture, he makes an exception for the Queen. She’s an animal lover, which Archie already knew but it was one thing knowing something and another thing seeing it.
It’s not until after Robin and Marion and that whole mess that people start to notice. And they only notice because Pongo snaps his teeth at the thief when he gets too close, crawls out from beneath the table and on to the seat beside Regina, stands over her like he’s her personal guard and it has Archie hiding a smile behind a cough. Granny has no such decorum. Her laugh is full blown, from the gut, and she’s leaning on the counter with a red face as the otherwise docile Dalmatian bares it’s teeth and growls. Regina’s eyebrows are raised significantly and she does her best to ignore both Robin and his newly resurrected wife by focusing on the dog in her lap. Her hand falls on to his neck and she scratches at a spot only she seems capable of finding ( Archie’s tried. Believe him, he’s tried. But no matter how long he spends patting and scratching and rubbing at the dogs head, he can’t seem to find it. ) and Pongo relaxes, but barely.
They’re good friends. And it makes sense. That’s how Pongo’s name became Henry’s first word, and that’s how a tennis ball found it’s home in the bottom draw of Regina’s desk. Archie falls ill one weekend, and he needs someone to care for his dog. The first name he brings up in his contacts is Regina’s, and though she says something about babysitting and didn’t the Charming’s pass that message around, he knows she’ll take him anyway and he thanks her quietly, to which she falls silent before muttering ‘you’re welcome’ and hanging up.
He’s not sure what happened during that weekend, but when he’s better and healthier and he can finally breathe without sounding like he’s about to hack up his own lung, he appears on Regina’s doorstep and finds a very smug looking dog, a very bitter Robin and a smirking Regina. He doesn’t ask, but he does watch as Pongo nudges Regina’s knee with his head and barks at Robin, who glares in return, before trotting off and pulling Archie with him.
“We’re not getting a dog,” is all he hears before the door is closed behind him and Archie rushes off to the diner with Pongo in toe, and Granny’s laughter could be heard from the kitchen not five minutes later.