#caughtape

❝ you will have your pounds of flesh —– ❞ one might think gaunt was talking to the dragon; curled up next to her master like a grotesque parody of a cat. moony he may, foolish he might appear, pale hand lovingly smoothes over sharp scaled maw. and the she-beast's serpentine tail lazily flickers back and forth. slitted rubies focused on daniel, glinting like two pits of fire in the night, a hungry predator eyeing an injured sheep. ❝ —– these i will deny you no longer. but you must show restraint and inconspicuousness. ❞ the inexperienced and imbeciles; lord voldemort had no use for either.

@caughtape / STARTER CALL ──

                   *⭒🢖 FROM 𝄈 DANNY JOHNSON ( @caughtape )                            *⭒🢖 TO 𝄈  DONOMIE COLE                                       ❝ well...that's a new one. ❞               ❴  [ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body  ❵

           A SIMPLE MOVEMENT,  a stretch of his arms above his head, loosening tight and bruised muscle, easing aches stiff joints, but it flashes a very particular sliver of skin ⸺ one with a freshly healed scar that just so happens to  not  have been given to him by mutually violent friend; a scar he'd completely forgotten about until he feels dangerously curious fingers tracing the raised mark, still a bit sensitive to the touch and making him shiver  ( he is not ticklish ! )  and the memory of the particular altercation that caused it resurface in his mind. a meaningless, drunken thing days, maybe a few weeks ago; he doesn't remember. it's a hazy, wispy little thing that slips through his grasp.

          what doesn't slip past him, however, is the slight edge in danny's voice, the twinge of  annoyance  sharpening the words, giving hidden meaning to words that would otherwise seem harmless and conversational. and it has donomie's lips twitching into a smirk, a playful glint shining in his eyes that certainly meant he was about to press a button or two that he probably  shouldn't.  but donomie cole will forever and always be donomie cole.   “   aww are you  jealous  i cheated on you with some rando the other night ?   ”   he practically coos the words as he turns, cheekily batting thick, dark lashes in danny's direction in a way that would put old movie actresses to shame.    “   don't worry your pretty little head ⸺ promise you're still my favorite.   ”   

Good ol’ Ghost Face was about to learn that very thing with a little move Wrench liked to (lovingly) refer to as the ‘Swing and Surprise’. Hands wrapping around a dead tree branch as he drops his weight, using the momentum to swing himself down from his perch and plant a wicked pair of boots directly into other mask wearer’s chest. “Surprise! It’s a’me, Wrench-io.”

Danny + Clint // @caughtape

Clint’s sitting on the tailgate of a truck that smells like burnt rubber and energy drinks. He stares at the wreckage before him. Smoke curling from the building’s windows, debris still floating through the air like confetti. It’s the kinda aftermath that leaves him a little dazed. He’s not even sure who’s truck this is— but the EMT gave him a break and shake ice pack, and it’s planted firmly on his head. Clint’s nose bleeds and dribbles down his chin. He’s covered in ash and smells charred— ordered to sit and stay for the next twenty. SHIELD agents rummage through the rubble.

The reporter he’s seen sniffing around previous scenes practically materializes at his side. “Oh, jesus.” Clint jumps a little and looks the other over, who offers a coffee in return and a boyish smile. “Are you a hallucination? An angel? I mean, I know I hit my head but…” Coffee right now seemed too good to be true... and yet. He takes it, “Are you here for— uh, I guess the story?” Bright blues blink at him a little bleary eyed. The archer lowers the ice pack and takes a sip. It's exactly how he likes it. No, really. It’s literally his fucking coffee order.

@caughtape sent: drop this sunflower 🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy !!! let's spread a little sunshine ☀️

Grips you affectionately ily!!! One of my ride or dies fr. Genuinely one of the best writers I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and someone I'm so grateful to have known for as long as I have. I always look forward to our silly little blorbos interacting. <3

it's  so  loud  it's  better  to  swallow,  swallow,  swallow  until  she  can  make  out  what  he's  saying  -  times  like  these,  there's  a  stick  of  gum  on  hand,  and  reggie  chews  on  it.  helps  keep  her  ears  clear  of  popping.  his  voice  echoes,  reverberates,  palm  cupped  around  the  lobe.

she  dips  her  head  forward,  so  he  can  talk  directly  into  the  canal,  like  they're  playing  a  game  of  telephone.  it's  like  he's  playing  checkers,  and  she's  playing  chess.  the  club  is  pulsing.  she  can  feel  it  vibrating  in  her  heels,  up  her  calves,  to  her  torso.

they're  in  the  same  room  now,  snagged  at  the  pulse  point.  she  couldn't  hear  anybody  else  above  the  music.  she's  soft  toned,  so  it's  hard  to  project.

she  just  leans. 

        *⭒🢖 FROM 𝄈 DANNY JOHNSON ( @caughtape )         *⭒🢖 TO 𝄈  DONOMIE COLE             RE:  happy very late birthday to the raccoon boy.       ❴  arm coiled around the other man's throat from behind. back pressed flush as he tightened his grip just enough to leverage Domi how, and where, he wanted him. "a little birdie told me someone was one year older, one year none-the-wiser." hand slipping a small box into Domi's front pocket before loosing him. within was a new set of gauges: one with a small chain linking to a cuff while the opposite had a black sword charm suspended from it. ❵

           VIOLENT FUCKING WEIRDO.  is the weirdo in question danny or himself ?  yes. absolutely yes. danny the aggressive weirdo that thinks it perfectly acceptable to  manhandle  someone in order to give them a birthday gift; donomie the masochistic little freak that agrees and sees no issue with it, taking the rough handling in stride and with little more reaction than a stilted gasp and brief tensing of muscle ⸺ all of which settle once he realizes who it is. and even then, it's replaced with a wide  grin.

          danny had remembered his birthday. danny had remembered his birthday  and  gotten him a gift in a true friend fashion  (  never mind the fact that donomie definitely has not told danny his birthday, leaving a large circle of question marks surrounding exactly how he knew; that's an issue for future, not-birthday-boy domi ).  he can't remember the last time he'd gotten a birthday gift from anyone, let alone something so  ...  perfectly  him.  it stirs a little warm, happy feeling somewhere in his chest that he hasn't had in quite sometime, relatively alone in his self-sentenced isolation.

          “    you fucker.    ”    comes his words, spoken from smiling lips with bright eyes that don't quite match his words, fond where the words should normally be harsh. he turns, throwing an arm around danny's neck in a rare, non-violent show of affection, tight but brief in its hold.      “    you know you didn't have to get me anything, idiot.    ”    but even as he says it, he's already in the process of taking his current ones out and replacing them with practiced fingers.