#intimate meme

2.) going to an event together like carnivals, festivals etc.

[[OoC: I’m gonna call this a Christmas gift from the RNG gods, because we were just talking about this xD This one is definitely a starter]]

“Ughhh,” Python groans, shoving his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans and walking a little faster to avoid losing Forsyth’s brown hair in the crowd. “For fuck’s sake, Fors, will you wait up?”

Hell if he even knows what a Renaissance Festival is, but it’s all Forsyth has talked about for the better part of a month. It had taken him almost that long to save up for tickets, and even that had been a surprise- Forsyth is normally the more frugal of the two of them, and their rare leisure time is usually spent on things that can be done at home for free. Python would have preferred to do just that, but Forsyth had announced that they were going in that particular way that meant that he was being dragged whether he liked it or not.

All he’s been able to glean about the place since they walked in is that it’s hot, dusty, and full of weird people in costumes who talk in ridiculous fake accents and try to engage patrons into doing the same. Apparently there’s beer on virtually every corner- which must be part of the appeal, and could only improve things- but he knows it’ll put a damper on Forsyth’s starry-eyed enthusiasm if he ends up just spending the whole day wasted. Still, he’s not sure what else he’s supposed to do besides babysit Forsyth and make sure he doesn’t get completely carried away.

As if reminded by that thought, he glances over at his companion and cracks up laughing for the tenth time that morning.

Gallethood: Waking up to see Galleth in his tunic X3

28. Drawing/writing on one another

[[OoC: Uhhh tw for drug use I guess xD cleared with @redmessenger beforehand]]

“C'mon, Luke, just- humor me here. It’ll be fun,” he says for at least the fifth time.

Python doesn’t normally do this, but it’s been a rough week and the pleasant, heavy feeling of being high has successfully washed most of it from his mind, at least for the night. The relaxed haze brings out a rare side of him that could almost be called affectionate- certainly an improvement on the times it’s sent him into a deeper existential depression than usual. Forsyth’s still at work (like always…), but somehow Lukas had been persuaded to keep him company, full of his usual long-suffering sighs (and quite unwilling to partake himself, tragically), but there all the same.

They’d somehow gotten onto the subject of tattoos- of which Python has plenty. Several are the messy remnants of his rebellious teenage years, done in friends’ basements with tattoo kits bought from eBay, but some are newer and more aesthetically pleasing, particularly the stylized snake wrapped around his bicep. (What can he say? He has a theme going.)

Lukas, on the other hand, has none, and Python gets it in his head to wonder what he’d look like with them and then can’t let the thought go. Pulling out and digging through a pile of boxes that Forsyth will have to deal with later, he finds an old set of paints that are miraculously not yet dried out. It takes a good deal of single-minded wheedling in the face of Lukas’ polite disapproval, but eventually he rolls his eyes and strips to his undershirt so Python can get to work.

He sucks at it. He’s nowhere near high enough to obscure that- Python has never been an artist. He’s barely even making shapes, let alone recognizable pictures, and after a few minutes of fumbling, he forgoes the brush in favor of finger painting like a child. But the swirls of warm reds and purples splashed across Lukas’ shoulder and arm compliment his hair and look almost magical, and Python finds himself laughing in genuine delight, with almost no trace of his usual sarcasm.

24.) Listening to heartbeat/breathing

[[OoC: Btw, sorry if my numbers at any point are wrong - the list is showing up super glitched on mobile, so I’m just kinda guessing what prompt goes with what number xD)

“Kid… hey, c'mon kid, stick with me here…”

Python’s back hurts- everything hurts- but he’s still walking in what he hopes is the direction of camp, Gray’s limp form hoisted onto his back. For once, he’s working too hard for the Rigelian cold to seep beneath his cloak, and he can feel the sweat bead on his forehead only to chill immediately in the frigid air. He’s talking repetitive nonsense just to keep himself walking- it’s not like Gray can hear him- and to distract himself from how quickly the sun is sinking behind the looming silhouette of Fear Mountain.

Back in Zofia, the worst they might have encountered on a routine scouting run was bandits or Desaix’ soldiers. In Rigel, it’s another story entirely. The ugly burn scar across his torso has taught Python to fear witches, but Gray’s a damn idiot and ran headlong into them, even after a warning to let Python take them out from a distance. Python’s not even sure what spell they hit him with, but he’s out cold, and he’s heavy.

Based on the mountain’s position, there’s probably another mile to go, and Python can feel himself wearing down fast. He hopes to hell that he’s not doing all this just to bring back a corpse, but no- he can feel the warmth of Gray’s breath against his neck and the thudding of his heartbeat pressed against his back. As he keeps walking, everything narrows to that feeling, and he finds himself putting one foot in front of the other to its rhythm to keep himself going.

After what feels like an eternity, Gray stirs with a faint moan, and Python lets out an exhausted chuckle. “Nice of you to…join me,” he quips, his shortness of breath taking most of the bite out of the remark. Crouching, he lets Gray’s feet touch the ground to see if he can support himself, and sighs in relief to feel the weight on his shoulders ease.

“Yeah, that’s right, you’ve got it… Your little friends are gonna skin me alive if I don’t get you back in one piece, so let’s get walkin’.”

Everything still hurts, and not even Forsyth’s nagging is going to be able to drag him from his bedroll in the morning. He’ll also absolutely have some shit to give Gray for getting them into this situation, once he has the energy for it. But for tonight, the mountain is closer than ever, and there’s still a sliver of sunlight left. They’ll make it.

15: laying your head on someone’s shoulder

They were both exhausted - they’d spent most of the day transplanting the last of the Devil’s Snare to their last pots of the season - and Hermione could honestly say that she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

He’d walked her back to her rooms at the inn and the two of them had taken a seat together on the couch, sort of murmuring over how successful the transplants had been when Hermione felt a tremendous yawn start to tear it’s way through her body.