Date: 2005-07-09 03:10 am (UTC)
Tokyo summers are always humid and hot and Hawkeye awakes with his front glued to Trapper's back.

YESSSS. Hot and lovely and awesome.


"Hum? You want sex?" Trapper asks, groggily.

Hawkeye smiles. "Not right at the moment."


SEE ABOVE :D


tiny ripple of panic across the placid surface of Hawkeye's mind.


ooooh oh my. That's a pretty lovely image, right there. I always love when people describe the mind as a tangible thing, and *thumbs up* yes.

desire stretched between them like spider webs or rubber bands drawn to their max ready to break or snap them back together so hard they see stars.

that is a pretty amazing bit of prose, right there. I am obviously the stereotypical teenaged girl and as such I scrawl lyrics everywhere, in all my notebooks and sometimes on my lamps and walls when I feel like it, and that seems like something I would write along my floorboards. (All the most important things go along the floorboards.)

I like this a lot. A lot.

(HAHAHAHAHA YOUR ICON, ALSO, IS SOMETHING I HARBOR SOME LOVE FOR.)
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