#jonhamm1x1

Amortentia Meme || Accepting

Avaline & Anthony:  smoke, gunpowder, scotch, lightning charged ozone

Abigail & Finnegan:  Vanilla, cinnamon, flour, black sugar tea, her laundry soap

Acts of Affection || Limited

❃  Mussing their hair or tugging at their clothes (a hat, sleeve, etc.)

He hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, even as Avaline cooked dinner, spoke to him.  Anthony stayed in the same position, buried in his work and whatever he was doing on his computer.  She mused lightly that he’s trying to get it all done before she comes to steal his attention, and make him type one handed.  The soft snort was all the affirmation she needed.  He said he’d warm up dinner later, and she told him that it wouldn’t taste as good.  

She was rewarded with silence yet again, his concentration unbreakable.  Instead, she kept quiet, working on cleaning up the kitchen before she slipped in behind him.  “Baby,” she kissed the top of his head, slowly pushing his well kempt hair out of it’s normal state, and pushing it forward on his forehead, before turning to kiss along his neck, hands traveling along his chest, “Come away from that computer, yeah? It’s time, and I want your undivided attention.  Don’t make me come across the top of this couch and mess your hair up more.  You need to eat too, before anything else.  So come away from this computer...”

Send ‘bang!’ To witness my muse being shot || Limited

Anthony & Avaline

She wasn’t meant to be there.  He’d strictly told her not to be there, to not get out of the car.  But the flash of gun metal pointed at him startled her and Avaline was never one to run from a conflict.  She wasn’t a runner, and it’s a shame.  It may have saved her life.  

Her breath drifted up into the night sky as she stood up out of the car, the chill of the frigid night making her pull her jacket around her closer as she slammed the door.  “Stop.”  Anthony’s terse gaze at her words caught her attention and she shut the door.  

“Avaline, get back in the car” . 

She shook her head defiantly, knowing damn well the moment they walked away from the situation, he’d either kick her out of his life, or punish her one.  Or both.  Who knows.  But it’d be worth it to make sure Anthony was safe.  She eased to him, “Let’s go, Anthony.”  

The man behind the gun laughed as if that was something funny, “not until we’re done with business, sweetheart.”  The guy shrugged his shoulders, one hand holding his gun.

BANG!

He staggered back, startled at the misfire.  It happens, weapons poorly cleaned, and handled by someone with little experienced.  Squeeze the trigger a little too much

No one moved for a moment, until Avaline fell, stumbling before she sat on the ground with a pained confused look.  Her jacket flooded black with blood, the fabric absorbing it as quickly as it seeped from the fresh wound that ripped through her abdomen and exited out of her back.  “Anthony?”  He was there, before she knew what was going on, but whatever he was saying, she wasn’t hearing it, too scared to focus on anything but his face, the blood on his hands as he tried to stop it.  “Anthony?  It…don’t…don’t panic..it doesn’t hurt that bad.  I’m….I’m more cold than anything.  Hey…h-hey.  Look at me.  K-Keep your eyes on me, yeah?  Please?”

Famous words for Avaline, and her last as the last thing she saw was his eyes as he tried his best to keep her with him.

Put ( ˘ ³˘) to kiss a wound on my muse || Limited

Grace & Kit

“It’s nothing,” Kit murmured softly, staring straight ahead as Grace pressed a q tip with peroxide into the gash on his forehead.  It followed the line of his eyebrow, accompanied with a purpling bruise just under his eye that would swell shut before the night was over.  Another bruise on his jaw, and a gash on the inside of his lip.  

“That’s an awful lot of nothing,” Grace chastised warmly, working on cleaning the wounds that adorned his face, bruises on his knuckles forgotten until his gaze looked at the assortment of colors his hands had changed.  “Paul should really hire some security.”

He knew it was true, but getting Paul to do anything more than a line of cocaine and a hooker in the backroom while leaving Kit in charge of the place was like pulling teeth.  “Easier said than done.  Kit Thomas Myers, bartender, chemistry major, security extraordinaire...”  He muttered bitterly before going silent again, lost in his thoughts of how the fight broke out.  She picked a piece of beer bottle from the gash.  “I think that’s it.  It needs stitches, Kit.”

“Not going,” He muttered defiantly as he shifted and finally looked at her, “it’s not that bad..”  Though he couldn’t see it.  He expects her to fuss more, to drag him kicking and screaming to the nearest urgent care.  Instead, he’s awarded with the most tender of kisses, dusting the swelling of his eye, the knot on his jaw, even the gash on his lip that still tasted like wet pennies in his mouth.  

Put ( ˘ ³˘) to kiss a wound on my muse || Limited

Abi X Finn

Her yelp from the kitchen damn near sent him flying through the swinging doors, abandoning the counter and the till he was counting down for her (though thankfully the door was locked).  “What?  What is it?”  He limped around the butcher block table to see the problem at hand.  A slip of a knife and the tender flesh of a finger left blood across the table and Abi, clinging to her hand that was wrapped up in a towel.  “Lemme see...”  She was a bit reluctant to give him her hand, and he was slow to peel the towel back to reveal a nice sized slice on her finger.  “I don’t think y’need stitches, but I’ll clean it up for ya...” he pressed a kiss to her palm, working on wiping away the blood that slid from the wound.  She didn’t say much other than a soft whimper, a hiss as he washed the wound and wrapped it slowly with the loving patience that only exposed itself for her.  Anything else, and he’s full of impatience and frustration.  Berating himself under his breath for limping so much, not moving fast enough, or for the general aches and pains that have become normal to him at this point.  He was never this loving with himself, this patient.  This kind.

“A’most done...” he murmured, before wrapping the gauze tape around her finger carefully before pressing a lovingly kiss over it on the gauze, peppering her with more and more kisses until her pout turns to a smile.  

“Lemme finish countin’ out that till an’ we’ll go get somethin’ sweet t’eat.”

ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude you go girl, tell them to fuck the fuck off omg. jfc.

Send 💋 and I’ll give your muse a new years eve kiss || Limited

Ava & Anthony

“Please?”  Ava pleaded softly, poking her lip out.  She’d been at it for hours, though she knew now that all the good spots were taken.  All because she’d seen a flyer in the small burger joint where they’d gone to pick up a quick dinner for New Year’s Eve in the park - Hot cococa, lights, fireworks, the countdown.  The whole shebang!  But Anthony dug his heels in – They weren’t public with their relationship yet, what if someone saw?  All of these questions that Avaline chose not to listen to or think about because it was New Year’s.  No one would be paying them any attention, or even be remotely sober.  “What if we stand in the back? I really, really want to see the fireworks!”

He must have had enough of her asking because before long, they’d bundled up and climbed in the car, Avaline beaming from ear to ear with her scarf wrapped around her neck.  The stipulation was they remained by the car, on top of the garage across the street from the park.  That much she could do.  They’d be away from the crowds, and a good view of the fireworks.  

She huddled against him as the wind caught, the sounds of the drunken crowd below bellowing out:  FIVE!!!!   FOUR!!!!  THREE!!!!  TWO!!!!  ONE!!!!  HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR!!!!!

Explosions echoed around them as their faces lit up in vibrant greens, reds, golds, and whites, and all she could do was smile before turning to face him.  The strong jaw, the apple of his cheeks were all illuminated in a variety of colors and light, dancing across his face;  he was as handsome as she’s ever seen him.  “Happy New Year, love…” She murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek, drag him down and plant her lips on his.  Oh, it would be a happy one for sure.

Abi & Finn

They’d hosted a party, Finn’s newly renovated farm house filled to the brim with people, friends, family, new acquaintances -- they’d been so busy entertaining that they’d missed a kiss at the countdown.  A disaster with a broken bottle of wine and a lost half a cake that toppled to the floor, they’d missed it.  But soon the guests were gone, and the house was quieted down again.  Moose and Fatoy were snoring somewhere in the house and the only other sound that echoed was the laughter that flooded the kitchen.

In an effort to clean up the last of the chocolate icing on the floor, Finn drunkenly ended up sitting on his butt, watching the LED numbers on the stove swim around in front of him reading roughly 2 am.  And across from him sat an equally drunk Abigail who now hosted a series of chocolate sugary smears as Finn reached out with another glob on his calloused finger.

“I love you,” He whispered quietly, slurred and softly as he sported a smile that crinkled the edges of his dark green eyes.  “I ain’t worried ‘bout nothin’ like I used to.  We got us...an’ I love you, Abi-Bug.  More’n you know.”  With that he launched forward, pulling her into his lap and kissing her softly, tasting the chocolate on her lips and the smile on her tongue.  “Happy New Year baby...”

Grace & Kit

The bar was full of drunken hoots and hollers, girls in outfits that were too skimpy for the weather hung across tables to press their lips to their dates.  Kit’s hands gripped the mop a little harder as he worked to clean up spilled beer and liquor, blue eyes looking at the empty bar stool where Grace once sat.  It’d been some time since he’d seen her, perhaps she was leaning in Anthony’s arms, whispering Happy New Year as the clock dwindled down.  

Swipe goes the mop.  Left.  Right.  Dip back in the bucket.

He could still taste the honey of her lips on his, the way her hands pulled at his hair.  If she were here, they’d be doing the same thing, wouldn’t they?  Maybe not in front of throngs of drunken bar hoppers.  But maybe in the silence of the bar that was still illuminated with fairy lights and neon.  Quiet and soft in the night, a whisper of Happy New year against his lips.  He could taste the kiss, feel it.

The clap of Zac’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his day dream, the agitated voice of a drunken man leaning against the bar demanding another drink for his inebriated and underage girlfriend.  “No, Cutting you off.  Go watch the ball drop, close out your tab.”  Kit muttered grumpily, running the mop across the floor again.

Everyone had their breaking point and Cass was actually proud of herself for holding out as long as she did. Hell she could have kissed him when she woke up after the first night at his house. He’d taken care of her when he hadn’t needed to and no one had made her feel safe like that in a very long time. But she didn’t, because it hadn’t been right. Today had just been the time that she felt like she needed to do something. Which was how she ended up pressing herself against Ken and going up on her toes to kiss him. But it was her fear that he wasn’t going to kiss back that caused her to quickly pull away and take a deep breath. “I should go home now.”