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@hartbeating sent: ⑁ to sit on my muse’s lap (HECC)
There were plenty of open seats. One beside him, one across from him and yet, this woman slid into his lap with ease and grace. Gladio didn’t mind too much though he cocked a brow as he wrapped his arms around her waist in turn. “You tryin’ to avoid someone? I don’t mind you using me as a cover but, i’d kinda like to know your name first, beautiful.”
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A naughty SMS meme Thaly reblogged and sent to me because she likes tormenting Paul <3 | @hartbeating
[ 📲 • sms to: paul ] —— i want to mark you as mine; that’s why i’ve been sharpening my nails.
This meeting isn’t an important one, mostly housekeeping items and maintenance on the upkeep of the time machine, checking schedules and adjusting timetables as needed. It’s necessary, and Paul pays close attention since this is his project he’s leading, and he will not allow Monarch to see him slipping at all - but he also can’t help the way his eyes glaze over as Ashley explains her new morning teaching position the will prevent her from doing the nightly safety check anymore, so can she be moved to afternoons instead.
He resists the urge to sigh, instead taking a note as to the new schedule for her and Harry, double checking that he knows who to check in with at what times. This part of the project is rather dull, so he’s grateful for the text message that vibrates gently in his jacket pocket. No one questions him when he pulls his phone out to look at it - they all assume it’s work related - only to see a message from Tifa that damn near causes him to flush in front of his colleagues.
Ohh, she’s good, must’ve timed this off his rather packed schedule just to catch him in the midst of a meeting. He’s never known someone quite like her before, similar to Jack but wild in her own ways, and this feels very much in line with something she’d intentionally do. Pressing his lips together and looking stern rather than allowing his grin to creep up his face, he texts her back.
[ sms: Tifa Lock❤ ] Is that a threat or a promise? I look forward to it either way.
He considers some emoji or other, but it’s never been his style before, and he hits send before he can really think of which to put in. Maybe he should’ve been more flirty with her back, or maybe he should’ve said something more...stimulating. Well, it’s too late now, his attention has been pulled back to finalizing the new schedule before going over plans for the rest of the week.
Starter for @hartbeating
The feel of fabric surrounded him.
It was warm - soft and cozy.
The smell of something pleasant drifting into his nose. Nothing putrid or rotten, like the Qliphoth or the underworld itself... but something that reminded him of safety. Of comfort.
This couldn’t be the afterlife... could it?
He slowly fluttered his eyes open, the warm yellow light flooding his vision. The first thing he did was to sit up, yet a jolt of pain screamed through his nerves. A groan left his lips - no, this couldn’t be the afterlife, not with this sort of sensation following him to the grave. Slowly, he sat upon the bed, the blanket that cocooned him pooling upon his waist. He took a glance at his hands; the deep black markings just faded and gone, and the faintest remnants of cracks still present... but not as severe as before.
V brought a hand up to his temple, eyes shutting tightly to remember what happened - he could recall stumbling blindly, vision faded--
The warmth of the young man’s body supporting him--
The pain in his legs, trying to still his death march--
Standing before the demon, titanium cane raised--
Flesh flaking off, crumbling into the wind--
Then, nothing--
Questions began boiling into V’s mind - where was he? What happened? Did Urizen die? What happened to Dante and Nero? Why--
His train of thoughts halted when he heard the door open, and V glanced up, spotting a woman in black hair. He couldn’t help but freeze; this woman was completely unfamiliar to him. His head tilted slightly, and lips parted to speak. “...Where am I?”
Never have I ever charged someone extra for being a jerk.
never have I ever . accepting
There was a small smile on her lips before she picked up the glass and drank from it. And it was not just a small sip, but a sizeable gulp. “You’re right on the money, sweetheart,” she admitted, not a trace of guilt in sight, “I mean. No patron thinks about checking the bill once they’re beyond a certain limit, so sometimes they just had it coming, you know. The jerks.”
@hartbeating whispered: 💋 - platonic? romantic? You decide!
Send 💋 if your muse wants a kiss from mine || - [ Always accepting! ]
It had started out as an act of impulsivity. A fleeting expression of unbridled joy, after a lifetime of so much devastation. Aerith was happy. Ecstatic, really. Overflowing with warmth and emboldened by a new surge of blinding positivity. She’d wanted to share that with someone. Wanted to cocoon them in the same feeling of optimism that was crackling like electricity through every pore and fibre of her being. The fact Tifa happened to be closest was more of a delightful coincidence than anything else. If anyone deserved to revel in this moment with her, it was surely her dearest friend.
And so, she could perhaps be forgiven for the way those arms had ensnared the barmaid’s shoulders and roped her in to the swell of her embrace - and for the peppering of light kisses that had soon dotted her face. It was soft, wholesome, an act of unparalleled affection that seemed so blissfully natural. There was a kinship between them, or so the ancient had concluded. A kind of bond forged by two souls that continued to resonate on the same wave length; that both stood side by side, and fought & sacrificed together in pursuit of the very same things. Like called to like; two halves of the same whole, or at the very least two sides of a single, glistening coin.
It was such a conclusion that had sent her stomach into knots; the faint flutter of butterflies in the pit of her stomach changing the way she looked at her friend. Admiration coloured itself with something else; something fainter, but still ever present - a blurred line wrought from affection and fanned to life from ember to flame. Hesitation lingered for all but a moment, a smile licking at the corners of her mouth as she bent in again, hands soft upon ivory cheeks to bestow another, slower and arguably more heartfelt kiss so squarely between Tifa’s eyes. “Thank you for existing.”
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hartbeating replied to your post: “ANYBODY ELSE WANNA DIE TODAY???”
“…why are you killing people for telling the truth? You /are/ cute.”
@hartbeating said :: "You belong to me." From a meme prompt
WORDS SPOKEN FROM the mouth of one Tifa Lockhart. Words he never would have thought would spill from those lips. demanding. claiming. Leaving absolutely no room for argument. It was not a question. It was a statement. It was almost daring him to deny her. But why would he deny such prettily spoken words? Heatedly spoken words when they caused such a stir. Commanding, possessive -- making damn sure he knew it. Asserting her dominance in his life. Ensuring that words like those would spill from nobody elses lips in relation to himself. How the world shifts.
" is that a fact? " his mouth turned up in his signature smirk. To anyone who knew him, even the tiniest of amounts, knew that smirk meant he was enjoying himself. A few strides and he was directly in front of her. His gaze catching hers. Neither had he bothered to lock the door. Normally he would -- lest some nosey idiot come barrelling in and suddenly their little secret was out. No, not tonight. That door was staying open. He wanted to see just how far she was willing to go to prove those words. " well then, sweetheart. prove it. " A challenge -- anyone could walk in. Outside was alive with people coming and going. People who knew his reputation, knew what the Turk was capable of. They all saw him as the monster they wanted, not Tifa though. She saw through him. Yet would she take the risk -- the challenge he was presenting her, knowing full well all it took was that door opening once and then never being able to take it back? Would she dare.
hartbeating replied to your post: hartbeating replied to your photo: ...
Tifa’s got one of those unfair metabolisms where it doesn’t matter what she eats–it’s not affecting her figure. I figure Zack’s much the same. xD
@hartbeating & @gospelia
hop on
steroids mako has its benefits
