In case you missed the original post, here’s what’s going on.
I was originally going to do a different ship for this day, but then I re-watched Mission Impossible: Rouge Nation. This is the 5th film in the franchise, and I love all the others too, especially 3 and 4 largely due to Simon Pegg being adorable.
But Rouge Nation?
They really should have titled it “Ethan and Benji love each other SO much so you better not fuck with them because they will DESTROY you and the whole bloody world if you touch their precious cinnamon roll.”
Their relationship is unbelievably awesome and has given me yet another OTP to fling myself into the trash over. If you haven’t watched it yet, I highly recommend it :-D
3K words, no smut, pretty much just fluff. Small spoilers for Rogue Nation, but not really. Picture set by me, though I don’t own the images. (Oh, and small note, I couldn’t find where the IMF HQ is based, so I just made it Washington DC. If that’s wrong I’m sorry :-P)
Benji Dunn stared bleakly at his computer
monitors, hoping one of them would start telling him something new. But no matter how many times he refreshed the
pages, or opened new windows, or hacked into the government’s meteorology
department, the facts remained the same: the weather was verging on
apocalyptic, and there was no way he was getting on a plane.
“Bugger,” he said emphatically to
For the past few days he had ensconced
himself on one of IMF’s administration floors in order to wrap up some
paperwork and hold out as long as possible, hoping the snow would ease and he
could get his flight back to London. In
fact, by that afternoon he would have taken anything: Manchester, Southampton,
bloody Glasgow, but he’d finally had
to admit defeat now that not a single aircraft was flying out of Washington.
He was stuck. On Christmas Eve. By himself.
He sighed and text his mum the bad news,
knowing she’d be gutted that he wouldn’t be making it home. Again.
Guilty and miserable at the prospect of going back to his sparse and
lonely flat (which he hardly lived in most of the year, let alone bothered to
put up any kind of Christmas decorations in) he pulled out his handset and loaded
up an old game he’d not had a chance to play since being properly reinstated
into the IMF.
Being the only one left in the office, he
turned up the volume and let the hail of gunfire and explosions drown out his
thoughts. It wasn’t just his mum who was
disappointed he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas day; it wasn’t
often that things were this completely out of his hands.
It seemed like this year had been nothing but out of his hands though, and a
little normalcy of home had been what had been keeping him going the last
couple of months. Between the IMF’s
dissolving and that business with Lane (in London, ironically), Benji had been
left reeling with a sense of being completely out of control of his own
destiny. Maybe that’s why he’d been so
determined to catch the flight he’d booked, daring the weather to thwart him.
If he’d thought about it, he could maybe
have driven out of state, maybe down south where the weather was better so he
could have got a flight, but it was too late for that now. He’d half thought about trying to make it
back to England for New Year’s Eve, but he couldn’t afford to be away from the
office that long, he was lucky not to be out on a mission as it was.
No, he had truly sabotaged his holiday by
stupidly assuming that his flight would somehow miraculously still be allowed
to fly, despite no others making it off the runway. Yet again, events had totally screwed him,
and he’d been left sitting on his hands like an idiot.
He grimaced as a lack of concentration
caused his avatar to lose yet another life, and took the opportunity to turn
the game’s sound down as it reloaded so he could blast out a bit of Beethoven
over the top. A good solid sonata
generally helped lift him out of most sulks, but he figured this was probably a
bit more serious than that.
He sighed loudly to the empty room, Ludwig
throbbing against his ears. He’d just
have to embrace Christmas alone this year.
He could swing by the supermarket on his way home and pick up some food
(and beers, more importantly) and spend the day watching DVDs. It wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe.
He jumped out of his skin, sending his
controller clattering across his desk as he clutched at his chest and spun his
chair around to see who had snuck up on him.
“Ethan?” he gasped, mildly relieved but
mostly just mortified that he had been so easily scared. Ethan was chuckling at him as he came over
and leaned on his partition wall, which just made things infinitely worse. “Bloody hell, I didn’t think anyone else was
still here,” he breathed as he hastily turned down his music . He hoped he wasn’t too red-faced; Ethan had a
way of unsettling him more than anyone else.
“How’d you find me?”
Ethan grinned and leaned over, his hair falling
into his face as he looked down at Benji from his perch. “I’m a
spy,” he said in a mock whisper.
“But shh, don’t tell anyone.”
Benji looked sadly around the deserted
office and exited from the game, leaving them in quietness. “There’s no one left to tell,” he said
“Which begs the question,” Ethan said,
coming around to rest his hip against the lip of Benji’s desk. “What are you still doing here Agent
Dunn? Shouldn’t you be back in merry
London by now?”
He was awfully close, and Benji did his best
not to look like he was edging his
chair away by fractions. His palms were
already damp though, and an uncomfortable lump was threatening to rise in his
It was okay, he’d always justified to
himself, to have a silly crush on your friend.
He’d always argued it was more a case of admiration anyway; he’d admired how awesome and cool Ethan
was. But then he’d gone and gotten
himself kidnapped and almost blown up, and Ethan had torn the world apart to
get him back.
Now, it was not just a silly crush. Now, when things were still and quiet, mostly
when he was lying in the dark, trying his best to sleep, Benji had to admit to
himself the truth. That he was
pathetically, tragically in love with one of his best friends.
“I should have been,” he said, affecting a
smile as he replied to Ethan’s question.
“But apparently there’s a spot of snow.”
Ethan laughed and nodded. “I can’t lie,” he said sympathetically. “It felt like trekking through Hoth on the
Benji blinked. Had he just made a Star Wars joke? “Yeah,
well,” he said, brushing over it, refusing to believe Ethan was quoting one of
his favourite films on purpose. “Nothing’s
flying out, so here I am. Hang on, what
are you doing here?” he added as an
Ethan shrugged. “Normally I’m dangling upside down over a WMD
any given day of the week – I don’t tend to make plans for the holidays.”
“Oh,” said Benji. “Um, sorry.”
He suddenly felt quite awkward; he would have been lying if he said he’d
never let his mind wander on occasion, imagining scenarios where he and his
partner were forced together on a mission, just the two of them. But this was frighteningly domestic and
intimate, them both admitting they were alone on Christmas. Bollocks,
he panicked internally. What if Ethan did
something stupid, like suggesting-
“Don’t be sorry,” Ethan said with a shrug,
his demeanour light and at ease. “That’s
why I came to find you. Thought maybe
you’d like saving from whatever RPG was kicking your ass.”
“It wasn’t kicking my arse,” Benji cried,
sitting up defensively and glancing at his game console, but Ethan just smirked
at him, and Benji couldn’t help but laugh back.
“Okay, maybe it was, a little.
But,” he floundered. “I’m fine, I
don’t need looking after, honestly.”
Ethan looked at his fingers in his lap,
before smiling at him again. This time
it didn’t entirely reach his eyes.
“Well,” he said cheerfully. “Maybe
I need a bit of looking after. Keep an old spy company on Christmas Eve?”
He was joking, obviously, but Benji had to
bite his cheek when he wanted to retort that Ethan was most definitely not old.
He was probably still fitter than Benji would ever be, and-
Shit, he realised he’d left him
hanging. “Well, I mean,” he spluttered,
trying his best not to make an utter pillock of himself. “If that’s what you want, I guess that’s okay?”
Ethan grinned, genuinely this time, and
punched his arm. “Come on. There’s a bar near my place that’s good at
propping losers like us up on nights like this.”
Benji was almost certain he was going to
regret this immensely.
“These are not chips,” argued Benji, waving one in front of Ethan’s face.
“They are perfectly good French fries,”
Ethan argued back, sipping on his beer and laughing.
Benji waved it again. “French fries aren’t chips though, chips should be fat, and covered in vinegar.”
Ethan arched an eyebrow and leaned in
closer, making heat rush over Benji’s skin.
“You’re lucky I didn’t order you actual chips,” he said softly over the
music from the bar. They were surrounded
by an impressive collection of shot glasses and beer bottles which the waitress
seemed a bit reluctant to come over and collect, probably because the two
agents were making the most out of a rare opportunity to actually let loose and
not be on duty.
Well, Ethan was never not on duty. Even through his drunken haze Benji could see
how aware he was of the exits, and the movements of every person in the
surprisingly rowdy sports bar. It made
him feel safe, which was probably why he was out-drinking Ethan a little too
eagerly. He hadn’t felt safe and at ease
in a long time.
“Crisps are not chips, chips are chips,” he insisted, grinning and pleased with himself
for being brave enough to rib Ethan. He
felt they were slipping over a professional line after the amount of tequila
they’d had, but now because of that tequila he was studiously not caring. He’d stopped worrying about three drinks in
how inappropriate his feelings for Ethan were, and just started enjoying
Ethan looked at him slyly before knocking
back another shot. Just because he was
letting Benji out-drink him (and was definitely letting him Benji had realised, amused) didn’t mean he wasn’t
putting in a good effort. “Is that so?”
“You Americans give weird names to
everything,” he said, and poked out his tongue.
Ethan pushed another shot his way. “Well, if we’re so awful, maybe you should
head back off to the motherland?”
Benji blew a raspberry. “Tried that,” he said, only slightly melancholy
now. “But you guys wouldn’t let me
“You’re too good to let leave,” Ethan said
wickedly, chinking his bottle against Benji’s.
“Sorry,” he added, not sounding sorry at all.
Benji blinked and cleared his throat. It had almost sounded like Ethan was flirting
with him, but that couldn’t be right? He
decided to ignore it. “Ahh,” he said,
sitting back and looking around at the throng of people making merry in the bar
with them. Gaggles of friends and
couples holding hands; there were a lot of people apparently who wanted to be
out on Christmas Eve rather than cosy and at home with their loved ones. Or maybe their loved ones were here with
them? He glanced at Ethan. “It’s not so bad,” he said, eating another
chip, despite them being too crunchy for his liking.
Ethan pretended to be affronted. “Gee, thanks,” he said with a wink, and Ethan
knocked their knees together.
“Oh shut up, you know what I mean,” he said,
rolling his eyes. “I was miserable
earlier, but now I’m having a good time, thanks to you Ethan – is that what you
wanted to hear?”
“Much better,” Ethan said approvingly, a
glint in his eye that made Benji swallow his beer down a little too
quickly. He thought maybe he imagined it
though as they ordered more drinks and started reminiscing about when they were
younger – all in general terms of course.
They never specifically said the name of their schools, and any teachers
or students mentioned were almost certainly given pseudonyms. But still, it was the closest Benji had ever
come to knowing anything about Ethan’s childhood.
“Of course you were a track star,” he said,
shaking his head good naturedly as he fished out the last few chips from the
bowl in front of them. One of the
waitresses finally came over and cleared up their glasses, but Ethan was quick
to catch her to order another couple rounds of drinks for them.
“And the swim team,” he said cockily. “Anything where I could go fast.” Benji shook his head again affectionately,
imagining a mini Ethan, tearing ahead of the other poor students who didn’t
stand a chance against the boy destined to become an international agent. “What about you Dunn?” he asked, breaking
Benji from his reverie. “I suppose you
were hidden away in the IT lab where the sun never shone.”
“Actually,” Benji said, pointing the neck of
his beer bottle in Ethan’s direction. “We
only had about three computers in the whole school, so I was actually quite
fond of the drama department.”
He was pretty proud at how much Ethan
laughed at the idea of him in tights reciting Shakespeare.
They were there until closing, and had to be
turfed out with the other stragglers as the staff attempted to get home before
the clock struck midnight and it actually became Christmas Day. The blizzard was a nasty shock after several hours
in cosy comfort, and even with numerous layers on and a substantial beer
jacket, Benji felt the cold cut through him almost immediately.
hell,” he shouted through the snow flinging itself through the air. “I think it’s got worse!”
“This way,” Ethan told him, jerking his
thumb down the street. “My place is only
a few minutes away.”
The wind seemed to die down just a fraction
in sync with Benji’s stomach plummeting.
Ethan was inviting him back to his home? “Oh, no, no,” Benji stammered, realising how
monumentally foolish that would be, even in his blurry state. “That’s okay, I’ll get a taxi, it won’t take
long to drive-”
Ethan blinked at him from under the hood of
his jacket, his cheeks pink from the wind.
“It’s nine blocks over,” he said raising his eyebrows as he looked across the slushy road, still sporting a fair amount of snow despite the grit, but no
cars that Benji could see. “And I don’t
see any cabs.”
But Benji knew this was too much, he
couldn’t go to Ethan’s home. They were friends, they were partners, they’d
had a good drink, they’d even gone so far as confessing a few school secrets,
including competing for who had the hottest prom date (Benji neglecting to
mention he’d secretly wanted to go with the captain of the football team). But to go home
together…there was no way he wouldn’t do something completely humiliating.
“I can’t,” he stammered, stepping out into
the street. “I’ll just-”
But of course he found the only patch of ice
the gritters had missed, and flailed his arms at the sudden loss of balance,
slipping spectacularly and almost crashing to the ground. Except he didn’t. Because Ethan was there, and the damn heroic
bastard would never let him fall. “You
okay?” he asked, gripping tightly onto his arms, as Benji let himself be held
up like a girl dipped mid-dance for a kiss.
He blinked, staring into green eyes, scrambling around for anything to
“Yeah,” he breathed lamely. “Thanks, sorry I, uh…”
He expected Ethan to let him go, but he seemed
to be waiting for something. But then
something apparently short-circuited in Benji’s brain, because the next thing
he knew he had leaned forward…and kissed Ethan right on the mouth.
It only lasted a second or two before his
eyes flew back open as he realised with horror what he was doing, and he
snatched his head back, absolutely aghast.
“Fuck!” he hissed. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m drunk I’m sorry it
was an – I – I don’t know what it was, just forget it!”
But Ethan was still holding him firm, a small
grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as the snow and wind whipped through
his hair. He sighed. “Agent Dunn,” he said patiently. “I was beginning to think you didn’t want me
Shock doused over Benji like a bucket of
water. “What?” he stammered, standing up
straight finally on the pavement, but still in Ethan’s grasp. “What did you – what?”
Ethan chuckled, his eyes on Benji’s lips as
he pulled them together in an embrace that did little to keep out the cold, but
did everything to set Benji’s insides ablaze.
“For a secret agent,” he teased gently.
“You have a pretty bad poker face.”
Benji swallowed. “You know…you knew…” he said, fear and shame
creeping up his throat and making it hard to talk. But then he realised, Ethan was still holding
him. Looking directly at him, an amused
“You’re pretty bad at seduction too. However did you pass the field exam?”
Despite the freezing winds cutting through
them, Benji found himself relaxing just a fraction on the darkened street. “You wanted me to kiss you?” he finally
Ethan nodded, and Benji was pretty certain
the world fell completely away from him in that moment. “And I want you to come home with me. If you’re done
Benji couldn’t believe this was really
happening. “If that’s what you want,” he said, trying to keep his
breathing even and his tongue from getting tied. “I guess that’s okay?”
He got his answer in the form of Ethan
leaning tentatively forward, and kissing him again. This time Benji didn’t flinch; in fact, after
a couple of heart-stopping seconds, he leaned in too, carefully resting his
hands on Ethan’s chest as their lips moved cautiously together.
This was a disaster of an idea, he knew
that. Relationships were severely
frowned upon at the agency, it was too much of a risk to everyone
involved. But he could have cared less
as he melted into the embrace under the snowy deluge. Of everything that had gone wrong that year,
this was finally something that just felt right.
“Come on,” Ethan murmured. “It’s freezing. Let’s go home.”
Benji gave in and nodded. “It’s pretty cold,” he said stupidly, but
Ethan smiled fondly at him.
“I can think of lots of ways to keep warm though,” he assured him.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eight maids a milking.
‘Remind me why we’re doing this
again?’ You asked, standing in the middle of the training room.
‘Because Steve said so, for this stupid party and because your
feet don’t cooperate with your brain’ Bucky answered
‘One, when do you ever listen to Steve and two, dancing lessons?
Really? I’m not that bad’
Bucky rolled his eyes at your endless complaining.
‘Sure, we’ll just gloss over the fact you broke your wrist at last year’s party
‘That was an accident’ You muttered.
Ignoring the opportunity to argue with you, Bucky let the dispute go.
‘Let’s get started Doll’ He said.
He extended his arm out for you to hold, he then pressed his lips against your
wrist and carefully placed kisses up your arm until he got to your shoulder.
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.
‘Since when did you become Gomez Addams?’ You asked
Bucky chuckled ‘Ever since Morticia needed me to
keep her two left feet in check’
‘Oh darling, don’t torture yourself – that’s my
job’ you teased, mimicking Morticia.
Bucky pulled you in closer ‘Cara Mia’ ‘Mon cher’ You whispered, beaming at
‘On the eighth day of Kissmas…’ Bucky sang, as he twirled you ‘my true love gave to me an arm to brush against, a shoulder to
caress, a kiss blown that’s soaring, a soft haaaaaandembrace, several eskimo kisses, a flutter of
butterfly wishes, a good luck forehead peck and a smacker right on the cheek!’
You pulled away slightly, so you could look at Bucky.
‘For what?’ Bucky queried.
‘For this, for the dancing’ You confessed.
‘It’s not a problem Doll – so does that mean you admit you’re a hazard?’He
‘Keep talking about my bitchin’ dance skills like that Barnes and I’m going to
find a new place for these heels to go’ You counteracted.
Prompt:Oh my god can I request a story in this au “you crouched down to coo at my baby but i forgot to tell you their favorite thing to do is to play with people’s hair and now they won’t let go of you” in nalu?
you crouched down to coo at my baby but i forgot to tell you their favorite thing to do is to play with people’s hair and now they won’t let go of you au in nalu?¿?
Here’s to the two who asked for this AU, one was super late and I just got another recently, so I hope you guys like this :)
I didn’t like being one of those parents who brought their one year old infant literally everywhere they went, having them crying and making noise and just annoying everyone, but being a single mother didn’t really leave me with many choices. It was hard, yeah I’ll admit it, but it still didn’t mean I couldn’t handle it. Would it be nice to have an extra hand around? Yeah sure, it’s not like it’ll hurt, but did I need it? No.
Take it from someone who was practically raised by ten maids and eight butlers, if they could do it, so could I.
…But that still didn’t help with the fact that not everyone liked babies as much as they said they did. I was standing in line now, having to buy some more diapers for the little guy and I just got him to stop crying in the basket, and the snobby glares of the couple in front of me had me just wanting to sink into oblivion. He was still sniffling, his cheeks still pinched red and frown present, although not screaming anymore, so that was a plus.
The next person before me came up to check out and I sighed, wondering again why more cash registers weren’t open. A man came up behind me then, looking down to him, and smiled. Jude just stared at him with his big brown eyes, swaying in his seat.
I turned away, picking up a pack of gum and glanced back, seeing Jude tugging on the mans shirt. He faced him now in the basket, looking at the baby with a careful eye.
“Oh I’m sorry, was he pulling on you?” I walked over, taking his hand off his shirt.
He looked up to me, smiling a bit, “Yeah, it’s fine.”
I picked Jude up and held him in my arms as he started whining again, tears threatening his eyes again. I shushed him quietly, patting his back and he buried his whimpers into my hair, grasping the strands.
“He looks a lot like you,” the man commented, pointing towards his head.
I smiled, gently pulling his tiny fingers from my hair and nodded, “Yeah, thanks. I get that a lot.”
We both had blonde hair and brown eyes, I suppose I had some dominant genes inside, people always told me how he would probably grow up looking like my brother or something.
Jude quieted down then, turning his head back towards the guy behind us and stared at him again. He smiled in return to him, his grin big and wide, and just utterly goofy. I couldn’t help but smile along with him, it was a really cute smile.
He looked back up to me then from Jude and closed his smile. “Sorry, I uh, I like kids.”
He shook his head and laughed a bit, nervously, “I mean you know, they’re fun to be around.”
I nodded at him reassuringly, “Yeah, Jude seems to like you too.”
He brightened up a bit at the sound of his name, and right at that moment Jude reached out, giggling for his attention.
I swayed him back in forth, slowly moving up in the long line. Jude made a loud laugh now, leaning out of my arms and towards the man, waving his hands back and forth. We both laughed a little, and I guess I complied.
“What’s your name?” I asked, stepping up to him.
He glanced up from Jude tugging on his shirt again, his eyes light, “Natsu.”
I nodded, trying to keep Jude in my arms, “I’m Lucy.”
He nodded back to me and looked back down to Jude slowly raising his chubby arms up his chest. Soon enough Natsu was laughing as he had both his hands in his hair, brushing his fingers through the locks.
“I think he likes your hair,” I commented, biting my lip.
“Ah of course he would,” he sighed back, grinning at me.
Okay, this was really cute. I mean yeah, I could tell why kids probably loved him now, his hair was pink. I couldn’t imagine a child in sight who wouldn’t be absolutely fascinated with him. Jude giggled and played with his strands, laughing louder.
“Everyone laughs at my hair, why wouldn’t you?” He sighed to Jude, gently holding his hands over his hair.
“Oh, is he pulling?” I blurted, dropping my smile.
“Yeah, just a little,” he chuckled a bit, crouching over as Jude tugged again.
“I’m so sorry, he does that sometimes,” I said, trying to pry his hands from his hair.
We stood there for a while, stuck in the middle of the line as Jude kept his iron lock on Natsu’s hair, just laughing louder as I pulled his hands away.
“I guess I should’ve mentioned he has a thing for latching onto hair, you should see him when I try to put him to sleep,” I joked weakly, finally taking his hands back, and hearing a cry of dismay in return.
“It’s alright,” Natsu shook his head, scratching at his hair with a grin. “Not the first time that’s happened.”
I giggled, a little more shrill than I liked and shushed Jude’s whimpers again. I moved up the line, placing my things down on the conveyor belt after putting Jude back in the basket seat.
“So you don’t have any kids of your own? Since, you know, you’re pretty good with them?” I questioned.
He shook his head, looking a little embarrassed, “Nah, uh, no one to have them with I guess.”
I nodded shortly, paying the cashier, “Yeah. I’m raising Jude by myself, so.”
I stopped writing my name on the keypad then because uh, what did I just say? Did I just imply I wanted him as a father? What the hell Lucy?
“Sorry to hear that.”
I looked to him, giving a quick smile. “It’s fine. We’re both fine, I don’t…know why I said that.”
I gave a weird laugh, cringing as I did so. Shut up already, my lord.
I hurried up putting my card away and packing up my bags, seeing him stand up next to me.
“Well, if you ever need any help, I’m sure I could give a hand,” he shrugged, looking to me casually.
I gazed to him through my eyelashes, clearing my throat from a blush I sure as hell felt coming.
“If you want I mean, I have a friend who works at a daycare, so not just me.” He elaborated.
“That sounds nice, thanks,” I nodded, a little too eagerly. I sighed, pulling out a pen from my bag and grabbed his hand.
I wrote my number down, seeing him grinning up to me softly. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“Alright.” He replied, staring at his hand.
I pushed Jude out back towards the doors, waving a hand. “Sorry about your hair.”
He waved back, “You can repay me later.”
I turned away, smiling a bit and saw Jude reaching for Natsu again, wanting more attention from him. I sighed and shook my head. The amount of things I had in common with this baby was astounding, I almost felt like doing the same.
12 Days of Legends of Superflarrow Rarepair Christmas
Rarepairs are amazing! The lack of fanwork for said rarepairs, not so much. This holiday season, I’m issuing a challenge. To spread the love in this amazing fandom (or giant conglomerate of fandoms really), let’s give the gift of content to our shipper friends stuck in rarepair hell!
How does this challenge work? Simple. Every day in the song Twelve Days of Christmas will act as the prompt for that day’s fic. For those of you unfamiliar with the song, or just unable to keep track of it all like me, the song goes as such: “on the X day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…”
A Partridge in a Pear Tree
Two Turtle Doves
Three French Hens
Four Calling Birds
Five Golden Rings
Six Geese a-Laying
Seven Swans a-Swimming
Eight Maids a-Milking
Nine Ladies Dancing
Ten Lords a-Leaping
Eleven Pipers Piping
Twelve Drummers Drumming
These may seem fuzzy as far as prompts go, but that’s where it’s up to you to get creative. “Five Golden Rings” could be a proposal fic, or a boxing/wrestling/UFC AU. Maybe “Eight Maids a-Milking” is a domestic drabble about who put an empty milk carton back in the fridge. “Nine Ladies Dancing” could be a ballerina AU. And while I’m not saying “Eleven Pipers Piping” has to feature a Hartley ship, why waste a good opportunity?
Any type of fanwork applies, whether that’s fanfiction, fanart, gif/images sets, playlists, headcanons, etc. There are only a handful of rules, and they’re dead simple. First, your ship must have under 50 fics on AO3 to be considered a rarepair. An OT3+ where one or more individual pairings has over 50 fics but the OT3+ itself has less than 50 fics also counts as a rarepair.
Second, no incest. Which can be a muddy line in a fandom with so many adoptive families and alternate Earths, so let’s keep it simple. Blood relative ships are a hard no. Adoptive family ships are a bit more of a grey area, but given the fact that WestAllen is canon, they will be allowed. Also, I know somebody’s gonna wanna write doppelganger smut and honestly, just go for it. Our Earth logic does not apply to multiple Earth logic.
Third, tag your work #12daysoflosfrarepair when you post to share it with the community! Try to fill every prompt if you’re looking for a challenge, or keep it manageable and go for one or two. Hell, combine some prompts if you’d like, or do one giant piece that covers them all. It’s completely up to you.
As far as pairings go, you can use a different pairing for each prompt, or the same pairing all throughout if you’d prefer. Het, slash, femslash, poly – all is fair game! In case you’re stuck for pairing ideas, here’s a list of 12 possibilities that you’re free to either use or not.
Iris West/Cisco Ramon
Laurel Lance/Thea Queen
Barry Allen/Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Kara Danvers/Sara Lance
Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Sara Lance
Cisco Ramon/Ray Palmer
Hartley Rathaway/Wally West
Lisa Snart/Mick Rory
Alex Danvers/Laurel Lance
Floyd Lawton/John Diggle
Joe West/Earth-2 Harrison Wells
James Olsen/Kara Danvers/Winn Schott Jr.
Also, it is optional but highly encouraged to check the tag and reblog other people’s work as the event goes on! Sharing is caring, and caring is what this whole thing is all about! The event will run from Tuesday, December 13th - Saturday, December 24th, just in time for Christmas (and also Hanukkah, if I’m not mistaken)
If anyone has any additional questions, feel free to send me an ask on or off anon, or send me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! I think this is gonna be a lot of fun, and hopefully people are just as interested in doing this as I am!
Monet at Vétheuil (98) The 1901 Vétheuil series Why did Monet spend a good deal of the summer of 1901 particularly in Lavacourt and paint a series of fifteen views of Vétheuil? Nostalgia may explain. Looking across the Seine from Lavacourt, he had a plain sight on Vétheuil. It must have reminded him of twenty years earlier, when the impoverished Monet and Hoschedé families had agreed to live together in one house that was barely capable of housing both couples, their eight children and the maid. They went through the darkest days of their lives there, but in the end saw Monet’s career rebounce.
Claude Monet, Vétheuil, 1901. Oil on canvas, 81 x 92 cm. Private coillection Claude Monet, Vétheuil, 1901. Oil on canvas, 81 x 92 cm. Von der Heydt-Museum, Wuppertal, Germany Claude Monet, Vétheuil, après-midi d’automne (Vétheuil, Autumn Afternoon), 1901. Oil on canvas, 89 x 92 cm. Private collection Claude Monet, Vétheuil, effet rose (Vétheuil, Afternoon Light), 1901. Oil on canvas,
90.2 × 93.4 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago Claude Monet,
Vétheuil, au soleil couchant (Vétheuil, at Sunset), 1901. Oil on canvas, 89 x 92 cm. Musée d’Orsay, Paris