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Offers him a wrapped peppermint like a lil ole grandma.
random fanmail. - always accepting.
Tony looks down at her as she holds up the candy to him in such a strange manner. "Why are you holding it like that?" He asked with a raised brow and carefully took it from her like it might explode or she might.
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"nice tits."
" ... "
"you know, in spanish it's jaime."
“ mm. yo sé. “ decades of hiding in plain sight had created the need to be fluent in a number of languages and dialects — james nods his head. though he doesn't remember the last time someone had called him jaime.
re. / @chingonaclaws
"i ain't filling that thing out. you're already my daddy."
"Damn right, mija - 'fraid you're stuck with me."
ben wakes with a start, his heart beating out of the cavern of his chest, his hand splayed out on his chest like he can hold his heart himself, to stall it and will it to a slower pace. his eyes dart around the unfamiliar room, brows furrowed slightly, wondering where the hell is he. a hand raise, to shield his eyes from the sun that is barely peeking from outside, bleeding between the sheer curtains. "what?" ben whispers softly, remembering that he was fighting off a djinn seconds ago.. the thing had him pinned, ben shoved a dagger through the thing's chest, and ben blacking out. the sound of rolling limbs, his own, is all he can remember last.
he feels a stir beside him, capturing his attention and ripping his gaze from trying to decipher the walls like they will come out and tell him where he is. though he doesn't recall where he could have been dragged to, he recognize the curly tousle of dark tresses, descending around laura's features like a halo on the pillow beneath her, the covers splayed over her frame, making the braeden hauntingly aware of his current state, and what lack of clothes he has on. he reaches a hand to his forehead, looking to find a clock on a nightstand, finding that it plainly states in bright numbers: 10:34AM. nothing out of the ordinary. aside from the fact he doesn't know where they are, how he got in bed with laura, why he doesn't remember what happened after his fight with the djinn, and why he doesn't remember his night with laura and how badly he wishes he remembered his night with laura and- he wants to question this, wants to ask her what does this mean, ask if she picked him up from the gutters on the side of the road because that's what she would always be for him, his savior and lifeline, without question; always tethered with a magnet that they never seemed to be able to resist. ... @chingonaclaws
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𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗔 𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗦. ┈┈ feat. @chingonaclaws. mutuals only may interact/reblog. roleplay blogs only , no personal blogs please.
"Pep's right...you look better in your pictures."
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthe urge to shoo her away with a sharp click of the tongue and dismissal wave of the hand is strong but stronger still is the curious, ❝ pepper’s been talking about me? ❞ that slips 'forth between teeth. idiot! stay on track! there's an awkward, stifled laugh as he claws the façade back into place. ❝ hah! she only says that because she hasn’t seen the real thing up close and personal— not that she hasn’t tried, mind you. but i'm a practical guy. traditional. i don't mix business and pleasure, if you catch my meaning. ❞
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ honestly, between you and me, the way she’s downright obsessed with me is— it’s a little concerning. endearing, certainly! and flattering, if looked at from the right angles. but- but mostly frightening. at least that's what i pay my lawyers to think. since we're going to be working in the same city again, she should be hearing from my people any day now regarding certain, let’s say, safety concerns. you know how slow lawyers are when drawing up the legalese of it all. crossing T's and dotting I's and all that jazz … here. here’s five bucks. feel free to save me on process server fees and pass on the message yourself the next time you get her her coffee. ❞
@chingonaclaws asked: can you zip this for me ?
Jason glanced up at the sound of her voice, brow arching just slightly. Laura stood a few feet away with her back turned to him, fingers tugging impatiently at the zipper of her jacket. It was stuck, or maybe she just didn’t feel like struggling with it anymore. Either way, she’d asked him—him—for help. His first instinct was to throw out a sarcastic comment, something snarky about how she was clearly capable of skewering half a dozen enemies without breaking a sweat, but zipping a jacket was her limit. But he didn’t say it. Not right away, at least.
“You’re asking me for help? Is the apocalypse finally here?” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. Still, he stepped closer, the sound of his boots quiet against the floor. His gloved fingers found the zipper easily enough. For someone who handled firearms with deadly precision, this was almost laughably delicate work. As he tugged the zipper up slowly, the muscles along her spine shifted with every breath she took, coiled like she was expecting a fight. He understood the feeling. Always on guard. Always braced. Maybe that’s why he didn’t rush.
“There. Fully functional. Crisis averted,” Jason said, voice dry but low. His fingers hovered for a second too long before he let go. He didn’t smile. Not really. But something eased in his shoulders. “Next time, though, I’m charging you. Hero services don’t come cheap, Laura.” But he didn’t move away right away either. Not yet.
