#meme: oops

4. Your character walking in on mine in the shower.

12. Your character walking in on mine singing at the top of their lungs.

Put "Oops!" in my askbox {9}

Put "Oops!" in my askbox {18}

12. Your muse catches mine out whilst they’re sneaking away all the sweets

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"And just where do you think you're going with all that energon?" Speedlight asked with surprising sweetness. The dagger pressed to Getaway's throat cables and the scattered condensed energon cubes in the small hiding hole they'd wound up in after that last excursion made the situation significantly more grim from Getaway's perspective.

"Moving them to a safer location?" He said with a grin in his optics and a tilt to his head. Play it up, play it up. "Ya know, for safe keeping?"

"Uh-hmm." Speedlight giggled cutely. "And that safe place wasn't going to be your tanks was it?" The dagger pressed just a little into Getaway's cables. 

"Nope!" Getaway said easily, pushing his instincts to bat the knife away and incapacitate Speedlight to the side. "Just to the quarters for easier access and tighter security."

"Hmm." Speedlight hummed. "Then I guess you wouldn't mind some help moving all those cubes, would you." It was a statement, not a question. Still Speedlight withdrew his knife and Getaway's frame relaxed just a fraction. Speedlight bent down and picked up one little cube and popped it in his mouth. 

"Get to work," Speedlight said through a mouthful of sweet sweet energon. "And maybe I'll think of sharing." With that, Speedlight picked up another cube and ate it. Getaway grumbled darkly from his slumped position on the wall.

3. Your character walking in on mine having a tea party with stuffed animals.

(I’m going to do this in the modern/flower!verse setting cos I can)

She was beyond frustrated with being corrected every other word.  She was over eight millennia old, she had fought in major battles and helped establish great cities and defend them but yet she was spoken to as if she was a simpleton because this new language did not follow the patterns and rules of the ones she was used to.

There were all new alphabets, their number system was based differently and apparently the language had adopted rules and habits from others and that meant learning it was difficult because it was not standard throughout.  Some words were spelled the same and pronounced utterly different, some words were spelled different and pronounced the same.  She was fed up with it!

So instead, she was sitting in the bedroom with some of the little deer and bird toys they had accumulated along the way so far and was more than happily conversing with them in her own vernacular.  No one was asking her what she meant or fussing at her for it, it was the first time in quite some while where she felt the tension releasing.

5. Your character walking in on mine waking from a nightmare.

Belenwen had no shortage of fodder for nightmares and it seemed Irmo often felt she had unresolved matters surrounding them so they came to her more often than she would like.  

She was also typically quite punctual but this had been one of those nightmares where she could not wake up, where she felt trapped within the confines of the dreamscape and helpless to the scene playing out in her mind that felt so real.

Her sleep was deep but fitful, she did not notice the knocks on the door nor did she notice someone entering her rooms and calling her name.  In the nightmare, someone did the same and it was already surreal enough that it did not seem out of place.  In the dream, people were dying around her and so many were calling out to others, it was no different here.

Except in this dream, the voice did not belong to Glorfindel, it belonged to someone else, someone far more dear to her and the memories of burns along her back and arm were uncomfortable.  She tried to duck and shy away from the burning sensation, favoring the areas where she still bore the faint scars from that day.

It was not until her name was called with far more urgency and closer that she jerked away with a gasp, eyes flying open wide as she grabbed her shoulder to be sure the skin was not raw and charred once again.  The world around her whirled for a moment and it took some effort to regain her bearings but this was her own room and she was safely in Imladris.  

… and there was a mildly confused Glorfindel standing near the foot of her bed looking rather irritated.  ”Gondolin,” she murmured, rubbing a hand over her face.  Belenwen trusted him to understand the nature of the nightmare from the word alone and hoped he would not feel compelled to lecture her about the time because of it.  

9. Your character walking in on mine in bed with someone.

Belenwen was not used to having company but it seemed as of late, she had been attracting quite an odd assortment of company.  Her current bed fellow was proof of that but she did not mind it in the least.  Nor did she mind the inquisitive young Hobbit that had become her friend in their mutual efforts to avoid the harsh stares of Erestor.  

With a contented sigh, the elf nestled closer to the other in her bed.  She had long since grown used to sleeping in cooler chambers so his condition actually lent itself to a lovely nights sleep and at the moment, she was less inclined to get up and would much rather stay here within the strong circle of his arms and the comforting tangle of their legs together.  She was even starting to get used to the hair on his chest.

She nuzzled closer to his collar bone until she found the crook of his neck and was prepared to drift off once more.  She belatedly realized he was spelling out something on her back before she heard the soft padding of feet and the creek of her door pushing open.  

Belenwen moved quickly, clutching the sheets around her chest for her own modesty, which was hardly ever present, but the blankets were pulled up and over her current company to hide the salt and pepper hair splayed out on her pillow.