2,199 Days

There were nights he’d sit there, huddled tight over the radio, her voice drifting across his very soul. Her words like a calming salve on the torn edges of his heart; ripped at the seam where she’d once been. The frayed strings reaching across the cold emptiness of space and the burning reentry of Earth’s atmosphere; a conundrum Raven was days from solving.

Their first priority, after stabilizing the oxygen systems had been to hug one another tightly and silently say their ‘thank you’s and goodbyes to Clarke. She had sacrificed herself once again to save her friends, choosing to meet her end in Praimfaya to give them a chance at living.

Bellamy stood beside Raven, his heart ripped in half. He’d left part of himself on Earth with her and it had just been turned to ash in a nuclear blast of apocalyptic proportions. In that moment, as he watched the tidal wave of irradiated fire engulf what had once been a beautiful blue marble, he vowed to himself that he would live for her. Every decision he made from now until the day he died would be made for her, and for the love he would carry, unspoken, tightly locked away, like a stone in his chest for the rest of his days.

After a bit of rest and mourning for the planet, they set about creating a sustainable environment aboard The Ring.

Murphy had suggested they give their home a new name. “The Ark was a tough place for all of us, one we wouldn’t choose to return to. Yeah, we had to come back to the shithole, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a better stay this time around,” he shrugged, wrapping his arm lovingly around Emori.

Bellamy nodded in agreement as Monty and Harper smiled at one another. Echo didn’t much care and Raven was ambivalent so long as it was short and easy, should she ever get the com system back up. Monty had suggested calling it The Ring, Bellamy suspected it was a bit of Jasper-inspired genius. Either way, it had stuck and they’d been The Ring Station ever since.



OTP rainy day HC: Harley and Pammy🌸🍬

On rainy Gotham days Harley and Pam can often be found snuggled up together either in bed sharing a lazy day nap or on the couch having a Netflix marathon. Normally during storms the pair don’t like to be far apart, or outside arm’s reach, because Harley is scared of thunder and Pam doesn’t like the chill that comes with the showers.

anonymous asked:

A DAI question; I know you post a lot about DAI and TW3, so I was wondering, out of all the companions and characters from Dragon Age and The Witcher, which ones do you pair together as a romantic couple and why? (or maybe non-romantic too) //big fan of your incorrect quotes blog btw - have a nice day!

Great question! Sorry for taking so long, this was a really good question and I just wanted to sit down and really take my time to answer it! ♥ (bless anons like you who ask these fun, profound questions) 

I’m sure this answer is going to be long though, so I’ll just shorten it for the sake of people who might get annoyed, and hopefully others who’d enjoy reading why I ship certain characters with each other from TW3 and DAI can keep reading!

Keep reading

Draw Your OTP 30 Day Challenge.

Day 1- Draw your OTP.
Day 2- Draw your OTP kissing.
Day 3- Draw your OTP with one of them crying.
Day 4- Draw your OTP as an au.
Day 5- Draw your OTP in bed together.
Day 6- Draw your OTP with one wearing a shirt that says: “If found return to ______.” and the other wearing a shirt that says: “I’m ______.”
Day 7- Draw your OTP on a holiday of your choice.
Day 8- Draw your OTP as animals.
Day 9- Draw your OTP with matching clothes.
Day 10- Draw your OTP meeting for the first time.
Day 11- Draw your OTP cuddling.
Day 12- Draw your OTP genderbent.
Day 13- Draw a screenshot of your OTP.
Day 14- Draw your OTP just hanging out together.
Day 15- Draw your OTP at a public place of your choice.
Day 16- Draw your OTP with one person carrying the other.
Day 17- Draw your OTP with one caring for the one that is sick.
Day 18- Draw your OTP arguing.
Day 19- Draw your OTP on a date.
Day 20- Draw your OTP sharing a hoodie.
Day 21- Draw your OTP flirting.
Day 22- Draw your OTP in the summer.
Day 23- Draw your OTP in the fall.
Day 24- Draw your OTP in the winter.
Day 25- Draw your OTP in the spring.
Day 26- Draw your OTP at least 8 years older/younger.
Day 27- Draw your OTP with switched clothing.
Day 28- Draw your OTP with one defending the other.
Day 29- Draw your OTP at a party.
Day 30- Draw your OTP sharing something of your choice.


This is my third and final drabble for OTP Day (only a week late!). I was originally going to go smutty with this, but the muse decided against it and went in a different direction altogether. Ah well, I’ll be writing some smutty drabbles soon.

Requested by: @diva-gonzo
Prompt: Arthur walks in on them in the shed

She was worried about him. 

He was up early, again. Three days in a row, since Fred’s funeral. She was also having trouble sleeping, which is why she’d heard him sneak downstairs.

Hermione was finding it difficult not to just confront him about it, now that they were together.

This won’t do.

After searching through the house, by the pond, and the Quidditch pitch, she was stumped—until she spotted the ramshackle shed behind the Burrow.

She quietly entered. Ron’s outline was visible in the dawn light, his shoulders slumped, facing away from her. He seemed to be tinkering with something.

Hermione stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his back, causing him to flinch.


Her voice broke the silence, which seemed to disrupt his thoughts.

“What are you doing up, Hermione? You need your rest.”

“I’m worried about you.”

Ron shrugged. “I have a lot on my mind.”

She rubbed his back, up and down for a moment. He closed his eyes and she could feel him relax.

“That’s nice.”

“Is it helping, coming out here?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “It’s one of the few places I don’t associate with Fred, and it’s helping me learn…”

He quieted down, but she could see the familiar, telltale blush around his ears. After a moment, she couldn’t take it any longer.


He dropped whatever he was holding and spun to face her, his hands reaching for hers. Their fingers entwined and he gave them a squeeze.

“You know.”

Her face was a picture of puzzlement, and he looked surprised. He seemed to think it was obvious.

“I don’t, Ron. Tell me.”

He shuffled over and she could finally see what he’d been fiddling with on his dad’s workbench. There sat a torch, with its batteries removed.

“I’m trying to learn about Muggle things, so I don’t make a fool of myself in front of your parents.”

If she didn’t already love Ron Weasley, that certainly would have done it.

“Oh, Ron.”

She reached up and pulled him down into a kiss. He seemed surprised, but his arms quickly wrapped around her waist and he enthusiastically returned her affections.

As they deepened their kiss, Hermione tried to pour everything she was feeling into it. She was already shaky about the trip to Australia and finding her parents, and the fact that he was so confident they’d find them, and was even figuring out how to impress them, put her heart at ease.

They finally had to pause and catch their breath.

“I love you,” Hermione professed, before resuming the kiss.

The door suddenly swung open and Arthur strode in, catching them in mid-embrace.

“Oh! Er, good morning, Hermione. I came to tell Ron that breakfast was ready… and uh, of course, that goes for you, as well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley.”

“Right, then. I’ll see you two inside.”

As he closed the door, Hermione couldn’t help but start giggling.

“He didn’t seem phased at all.”

“Have you met my siblings?”

30 day otp challenge | day 4: cuddling somewhere

Otherwise Engaged

A fluffy drabble for OTP Day, with much kudos and credit to @otterandterrier for coming up with the idea for said rad holiday!

To be honest, the events of the last half-hour were something of a blur to Ron Weasley.

He had asked, she had tackled him, there had been a fair amount of snogging (on the floor, where they landed), there had been some laughter and a few tears, quite a bit more snogging, and then her overflowing excitement and need to talk about the engagement had dragged them up to their current position on the sofa in their flat: him, still experiencing the aftershocks of deeply-desired success, and her, mind and mouth running a mile a minute with eager planning.

She said yes. SHE SAID YES. To me. Ron Weasley. Actual Ron bloody Weasley. For forever!

The wonderful, almost-improbable chorus seemed to be running in a loop in his head, pushing out any other rational thought. Of course, he hadn’t expected her to say no, exactly, but… still. The release of several months of compounded nerves - and the warm, sweet-smelling lapful of freshly-minted fiancée - made it fairly hard to focus and he forced himself to pay better attention.

“Maybe I should call them?” Hermione was saying. “But it’d be so much more fun to tell them in person! It is getting late, though, and they usually turn in early. We could go over tomorrow, before going to the Burrow,” she chattered happily.

Ron’s face already felt sore from the amount of smiling he had done in the past thirty minutes, and watching Hermione’s enthusiasm was doing nothing to relieve it. “Yeah, definitely we can. But just so you know, I’ve already told them.”

Hermione looked up at him in confusion. “What? How?”

“No, I mean talked with them before. Before I asked you,” Ron clarified.

 Hermione stared at him. “You did?” she asked blankly.

“Well, yeah. Not to ask permission or anything,” he explained hastily, trying desperately to remember, through his happy haze, the particulars of several heated diatribes he had heard Hermione deliver to various unsuspecting and ill-advised individuals who had tried to condescendingly educate her on “traditional” wizarding family values. “I know you’re your own person and you’re not anyone’s, er, cattle.

“Chattel,” she corrected instinctively. “But actually, it amounts to about this same thing.”

“Right. Anyway, your parents. They’ve been pretty good about… well, about us, and about me, considering. My family already considers you family, and I thought your parents should know that they’d be family, too. I wanted them to know what was going on and, uh, hopefully be happy about it,” he finished uneasily as she continued to stare. Oh sweet Merlin’s pants, he knew he wasn’t completely up on muggle customs - had he committed some kind of inexcusable blunder? “Was that mphfk…”

Any further temporizing was forcefully cut off by Hermione’s lips, applied forcefully in one of his very favorite ways. She pulled back after a few moments, still gripping the front of his shirt tightly in her balled fists.

“You wanted my parents to feel included; you know how much that means to me,” she said wonderingly, looking at him with watery eyes. “And you remember what I said to that miserable harpy!”

“‘Course I do. She looked like she swallowed a dungbomb, it was wicked.” He eyed her carefully. “So that was an OK thing to do?”

“More than OK. It was lovely.”

Ron barked out a laugh. “Actually, it was bloody terrifying,”

Hermione smiled at him knowingly. “So,” she began archly, “do I get the pleasure of announcing this at all, or does everyone else already know?”

“Well, George knows, because he saw the ring box. Long story,” he added darkly. Hermione lips twitched at the look on his face. “And I might have mentioned it to Harry. But they only knew it was going to happen eventually. They didn’t know about it happening now.”

“Harry!” she exclaimed, jumping up and tugging on his arm. “We’ve got to tell Harry first. I think he and Ginny were going out tonight, do you think they’re home?

Ron tipped his head back and forth exaggeratedly, pretending to consider. “Mmmm, maybe. You know Ginny likes to drag him out dancing. Better give it a bit, just to make sure.” He let Hermione pull him up, wrapping his arms around her body tightly. ”In the meantime, I think we’ve got a bit more celebrating to do, if you’d care to follow me?” he asked, inclining his head toward their bedroom and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione shook her head at his cheesiness, but the smile she gave him was genuine. “Yes, I will.”

Ron grinned. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”

  • <p> <b>Person B:</b> do you like me?<p/><b>Person A:</b> No<p/><b>Person B:</b> Then do you love me?<p/><b>Person A:</b> No<p/><b>Person B:</b> *leaves with tears on his/her eyes*<p/><b>Person A:</b> wait!<p/><b>Person B:</b> *Looks up, with hope reflected on the face and an upcoming smile*<p/><b>Person A:</b> I also don't care about you<p/></p>

White Day  ♡ (˘▽˘>ԅ( ˘⌣˘)

30 day otp challenge | day 2: on a date

A Silent, Noble Kiss: Bend The Rules

Drabble #2 in the Kisses Drabble series, part of the OTP Day celebration. Prompt requested by @diva-gonzo: Silent, Noble Kiss, based on this prompt/poem list.

She eventually surrendered to sleep, limp against him and surrounded by his arms. It took her a long time to let go and keep her eyes closed, but he understood. Who can sleep after being tortured like that? Hell, he couldn’t sleep and it hadn’t been him who had to fight to stay alive as searing pain gripped every one of his cells. No, he had been helpless and terrified, but he had been spared the pain. Maybe it was fair, then, that he was the one trying to close his eyes, attempting to convince himself it was okay, she would be fine, and she wouldn’t dissolve and disappear from his side as he dreamt of better times.

Oh, but how he wished it had been him, that he could have taken the pain from her. They weren’t at risk anymore, and yet he still wanted to beg to be the one cursed to oblivion. Me, take me, spare her, kept invading his mind as if he could somehow change the past. While she was awake, he had managed to put all those thoughts away from his mind, focused as he was in trying to assure her she was safe now, that she was brave and strong and that everything would be fine, she would survive this too. She had hesitantly believed him; now he had only to convince himself.

He squirmed a bit on the many pillows behind his back, uncomfortable, trying to ease the tension left behind by their escape from Malfoy Manor but determined to stay there. He couldn’t care less about the knots clenching his neck and shoulders, not when her torso rested against his, her head right on the centre of his chest, his arms around her. He kept on cradling her, allowing himself the slightest tension in his arms to feel her just a tiny bit closer. He tried to use the feeling of her as an anchor, as definitive proof she was all right, and she was with him. Because, as selfish as it made him, he had no idea what he would do if anything happened to her. Where would their future be, if she was not there? How could he tell himself that it was okay, that it was noble to wait, if he had no certainty she’d be there to choose to be with him? Where would all the kisses he had imagined himself giving her go, if she was not there to receive them anymore?

A shaky sigh left him, fleeting memories of those times he had clung to as the fight had worsened; sudden, missed opportunities for kisses that would have told her of his feelings, kisses that he held back because he had to, because telling her he loved her in the middle of war didn’t seem like a promise of anything good. It was a constant battle inside of him, the push and pull of wanting to kiss her, to love her, to be with her, when he was afraid for her safety, when he wasn’t sure she reciprocated. But he kept on holding on to the dream, even when it could so quickly become a nightmare if anything happened to her. So yeah, he would still hold back the next morning… but tonight…

Tonight, with her safe in his arms for a few hours, he would allow himself to bend the rules. In the silence filling the room, he lowered his head, taking a deep breath filled with the smell of her hair. How could he convince himself it would be all right for them, that there was a future for them? Because, nobility aside, he was weak, and he needed something tonight.

He did all he could think of, only for the sake of what he liked to think was their promised future. He let his head fall further, his lips softly pressing against her hair, as chaste a kiss as he could make it. Because he had to believe they’d have that future. Nothing else would suffice.


I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride; I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving you but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. | Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets