Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in

Leonard Cohen, Dance me to the end of love

AU: She's the posh upper class girl, he's the blue collar guy. They fall in love. It's not uncomplicated.

(Basically, Uptown Girl. Because, c'mon, You know you want to)

Oh I love it. :) *puts down on the list*

Confined to sex, we pressed against
The limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
I made it to the forward deck.
I blessed our remnant fleet –
And then consented to be wrecked,
A thousand kisses deep.
Leonard Cohen, A thousand kisses deep

The psychiatrists say it's not a good thing. They talk about personal space and boundaries and co-dependence, as if the two of them gave a rat's ass about what shrinks made of the chaos in their heads.

It is enough. For tonight, for now, they lay down their weapons and crawl into the darkness, dreaming the dreams of killers and lovers; dreaming of almost nothing at all.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

(taken from John Green's The Fault in Our Stars)

Title: Rip Apart the World
Word Count: 4119
Warnings: None
Rating: Teen and Up

Author's Note: This little bit of hurt/comfort is something I started in February for the promptathon. For anuna_81’s prompt: She would rip the world apart for him. And for inkvoices, who mentioned Florence in her comments. The first part, especially, owes a lot to Ceremonials. But then it got stuck in EDIT land (thanks to all the work that my beta, hufflepuffsneak, put into kicking this into shape!) where I was too lazy to get it out. Along comes another promptathon and I realize that I need to quit being lazy and get this thing out there! So this is also for sgteam14283’s prompt: Okay? Okay. (from The Fault in Our Stars by the wonderful John Green).

Summary: There are some things that are meant to stay private and unmentioned. There are other things that come out in a tense situation and change everything. Thankfully, Clint's there to help pick up pieces that this current op chips off Natasha, regardless of what comes out of her mouth.

Snippet:
There was a moment when everything was at peace. A breeze blew across Natasha’s face, making the ends of her hair dance along her cheekbones and neck. She could smell fresh cut grass and water, as if they were sitting on the porch, enjoying a lovely Saturday afternoon. A snatch of song played in her mind, reminding her of the music Clint had played on his guitar last night as she was struggling to find sleep.

Then the moment was gone. The breeze was from the quinjet engine that was struggling to take off with only one working engine. The men who’d started this, who thought they’d had the upper hand or were stark-raving mad to attempt something so stupid in the first place, would try to take off now that they knew their targets wouldn’t be so easily killed. Half of the bad guys were still on the ground instead of safe in the plane, still shooting wildly around, hitting anything and everything in an attempt to find Natasha’s hiding spot.

One down. One to go.

The rest is here on AO3 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/890749)

Edited 2013-07-20 06:35 am (UTC)

The Great Angry Birds War. Other Avengers can join in too.

I'll prompt this one again: Avengers/Vampire Diaries crossover.

OK, so Nuna's been prompting Cohen's "Hallelujah." If it comes to prompts from that song, how about this line (which I hear in kd lang's voice):

She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah ...

(the throne is optional ...)

oh keep convincing me to write this one. really! :D :D I need to hear KD's version, I'm not sure I heard it.

Clint takes center stage - literally or metaphorically :)

Literally, please. With a guitar. :-)

Because you're mine, I walk the line.

So gather up your jackets, move it to the exits
I hope you have found a friend
Closing time
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end
-Closing Time by Semisonic

(gacked shamelessly from cybermathwitch's newest mix)

Love is a burning thing and it makes a fiery ring.

Sometimes they can go days without speaking to each other. Not because they have nothing to say, but because they're saying it all already.

Pacific Rim AU: Natasha and Clint are Jaeger pilots.

Talk about a fic that writes itself...

"Hush little baby, don't say a word, Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Daddy's gonna get you a titanium-reinforced dual-sighted steel-fiber 32-draw bow!"

"Mm. what happened to 'no weapons before at least two'?"

alt.

"Hush little baby, don't you cry, Momma's gonna get soon a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring don't shine, she'll probably kick my ass because she deserves the best after putting up with me for all this time."

"Clint, what did we say about cursing in front of the baby?"

Just a heads up: I think you've posted this in the wrong place - in the main thread instead of in reply to a comment.

Clint and Natasha are writers on a writing retreat. It's being held at in an old mansion, a converted monastory, a castle, an old building in the middle of nowhere to get people writing without distractions and because it has some archival material that some of the writers want to use.

Clint and Natasha are very different. Perhaps: Clint is writing a history of the carnival/circus, a professor writing about 'archaic' weaponary like the bow, a mystery writer... Natasha is writing a history of assassinations/assassins, russian high brow lit, feminist novels... Perhaps one is an established writer and this is the other's first book, or attempt at a book talked into it by friends. They're different, and they are NOT impressed with one another.

Then someone on the retreat is murdered.

I get Agatha Christie feels :D This sounds great!

Natasha is a Sherlock character, seeing everything and unable not to (possibly Red Room caused) and Clint is the Watson character, an injured soldier home from the war with nowhere to go.

Ohhhhh, this sounds wonderful :D

Natasha is a musician, of the unapologetically feminist, unashamed of showing the world who she is type. (Because in the past, a la Natasha's comics type history, she has been prevented from being herself, but no longer.)

Clint is the guy - a sound tech for the tour, a last minute replacement guitar-ist for the tour, a journalist doing a review, a camera guy covering a gig, a guy out for a drink one night who meets her and at first has no idea who she is, whatever...who falls for her.

Natasha don't need no man. But maybe she'd like to have Clint. If she can figure out how that kind of thing even fits in with who she is.

Edited 2013-07-14 01:37 pm (UTC)

Band AUs are my favourite AUs. :D

I tried to prompt this a moment before LJ went into maintainence and I think my prompt got eaten by Frank. Anyway!

Music and lyrics type AU - Clint is a "retired", almost forgotten pop star toeing his forties. nobody is interested in music he might want to write, but then a young pop star (Darcy Lewis?) wants him to write her a song. That's his big break! Only he has zero inspiration for writing lyrics right now. Tony Stark, Clint's manager tries to find him a professional lyricist but that doesn't work out. And then Natasha Romanoff shows up - she works in a library and has hidden talents, and she's there to water Clint's plants (stepping in for her friend Jane, who usually does that). Turns out she can do awesome lyrics -battles, not to mention she was and still is, secretly, Clint's fan.

I really, really want this one too! Watch this space, I may have to give it a go. Music and Lyrics is one of my ultimate guilty pleasure movies, and Clintasha and M&L sounds wonderful. Ugh.

Clint and his roof, a match made in heaven. Natasha sniggers about it in front of everyone else, but she secretly loves spending time with him there, watching the stars above and the people below.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Fran Barton and Nikolai Romanov. Go.

(Nothing in the world will convince me that Rule63!Clint would be called anything other than Frances Charlotte Barton. Though she pretends that it's Francesca because urgh, Frances.)