#raregcms

Torunn tilts her head, feigning deep thought about why she had bought him new shirts in the first place, when in truth, there had been a multitude of reasons. “How does just because sound?” She replies, a grin tugging at her lips as she bites down on it.

The blonde Asgardian turns on her heel and starts toward Francis’s room, not even checking if he’s following. “Now come on! I want to see if they fit or if I need to swap them for a different size!”

"... so you pickin' up what I'm layin' down here, cowboy?"

Sam Guthrie isn't her first choice, and given the social structure of this bonkers ass paramilitant academy for freakazoids r us, she has to believe he knows that. The same way he has to know that he's not technically her last choice, he's more like... the alternative choice.

Because asking Berto had been, in part, to piss off her dad, and there are a few rules Darcy lives by with one being whatever dad says is BAD she has to indulge in just to piss him off.

Rich and foreign? Potential to flirt almost seriously with her mom? Likely to end up sleeping with her cousin? Berto is the man for the job and all those things that irk John "maga for life" Lewis.

Asking Sam, though?

Country accent about as thick as her dad's, manners out the ass, and able to potentially keep up the appearance of tolerating a jack-ass like her dad and that extended leg of the family? Okay maybe the last part is going to be tough but still... all that and the truth, that Darcy doesn't shy away from one bit and openly detests matters to her father: he's white, blonde, and looks like he played ball for the varsity team or something.

He dad will love him. Her cousin will love him. Her mom will go to bed after meeting him with the (false)hope that soon she will be wedding dress shopping with her baby girl.

"And to reiterate, I am ONLY doing this because I'm IN the wedding and I can't fuck up my cousin's wedding. I have fucked up WAY too much thus far for my family and if I fuck this up-" one might wonder why her voice caught funny in her throat, a little strained there near the rambling explanation of why it had to be him, why it mattered.

In truth? She may loathe her father and her mom might be cringe and give her the ick way too much, but there is a fear there that once she's messed up this big, in front of god and all of creation and her bazillions of extended relations, she will be on her own for good.

"Please, Sam?" Darcy reaches for him, tugs a little pathetically at his shirt and does her best puss-n-boots impression. "Pretty please? It's only a week."

“I sense a disturbance in the force.”

raregcms asked: “ it hurts. when you want to live. when you start caring about having a future again. it makes all the things you’d numbed yourself too ache again. it can be just as suffocating to want to stay on this earth as it is to want to escape it. ” (behold deep thoughts from francis who's realizing maybe life doesn't suck so bad)

[ ϟ ]—– A gentle rumble rolls outward, neither laugh nor sigh, the sound holding elements of both as though spoken words reached into old caverns of himself that had long since avoided entering.

' It is indeed a strange hurt, that one...' and the admittance is offered with the same earnest tone as the young man's confession. ' Some things never heal clean, it rends, and burns, and once smothered into submission you deem yourself victorious over it. We never truly are however, something always forces us to face it, one way or another...'

Golden head tilts a fraction, a flicker of warm pride threading the god's words now, lips quirking faintly at the corners.

' Torunn would not have lingered so near you had she not seen a spark worth caring for... You should not fear the pain returning. Share the weight when it emerges, carry it with her, with me, anyone who would not see you stumble alone.'

Then the smile is allowed to emerge, still faint yet visible.

Laura was not ignorant. She knew what she had started, she knew what this meant. It was a line crossed, a mountain summited, a point of no return that they could never claw back. Something so delicate they'd both been handling it with kid gloves since they'd been teenagers: when she didn't know, didn't want, didn't understand the way Julian looked at her. Couldn't parse out her own feelings towards him which were so complicated and big and overwhelming, that it was better to just throw them all in a box and bury it.

When she did not have the vocabulary to express attraction, want, love, affection; didn't realize those were feelings she could feel. But now she had the words, the understanding, knew that the full range of humanity was hers. The scientists could not breed nor beat it out of her. And maybe, Laura should have been more careful walking towards this. She would have been, perhaps, if she had not been smelling the want heavy in Julian's damn pheromones for the past six months. The uptick of his heartbeat anytime they touched. His smile when she showed up in his apartment after his shift and had take out waiting on the table. Or, tonight, the sheer weight of anger, frustration, want, all that energy under the skin. It grated at her, like an itch she couldn't scratch, and Laura was sick of it. She never did anything in half part and she knew he wanted it too. Fuck it.

Can't hide shit from super senses.

Laura growled because those scents, want, affection, happy, laid heavy; his hands pulled at her hips, arms firm and strong looped around her waist. She gripped at his lapel, knuckles almost weight and tugging at his jacket to pull him closer, closer. Julian knew more about this kissing thing than she did. Except for some close study of movie scenes, Laura's an utter novice. But his lips locked and pressed to hers, brief separations to catch their breaths before her mouth filled with the taste of him again. To the bone, Laura was a hunter. When she had the scent, nothing could shake her. She wanted him and enthusiasm overcame trepidation. A growl rolled through her chest, animal and possessive. Her hands braced to Julian's shoulders and she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist, a better angle to deepen the kiss. Be closer. Satisfy the animal in her. One more kiss, okay, one more, and then she parted, half out of breath. Grinning wild.

Billy had honestly hoped that he would meet his older sister in a nicer way than in the middle of combat. Almost anything would be be better; getting coffee together, running into one another at the pharmacy, at a big messy family reunion. Well okay, maybe not the last one.

The air was heavy with rubble dust and ash from the ruined buildings surrounding them, and Billy could feel it coating him as he flew around, checking for anyone else who needed help. It seemed like everything was handled, save for the few small fires that were still burning. He landed and sat down on a large piece of stone, trying his very best to catch his breath.

Billy had been so busy starting into the distance that he almost didn't noticed as his sister approached and sat down beside him. It wasn't until she pressed a cool, damp cloth to his cheek to wipe away some of the gunk that had worked itself into his pores that he turned to face her.