#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.

❤︎‬ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 & 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 !    (  a  collection  of  75+ kisses.   feel free to specify the initiating muse.   potentially mature content within.UPDATED 02/25 !)

Laura w/ Julian @raregcms

He was upset about his boss. Something about work, which Laura caught in snippets since Julian kept switching train of thoughts as he ranted and raved, criss crossing the living room. It was hard, even for her, to keep full track of what the he hell he was talking, about who was who, and which co-worker, in their incompetence and selfishness, had exactly pissed him off. It might be all of them. In fact, it was all quite a show, which Laura appreciated from her perch on the couch. Her legs crossed underneath her and hand hooked around her ankle, elbow pressed to her knee. She decided she liked how he strode, the slight roll of his hip between each outstretch of his long leg. Still in his work clothes, that smelled of medicine, antiseptics, and blood; heavy with the musk of his own scent and sweat. His scent distracted her, unaided by how banal she found his story. Laura liked her daily life where she got to stab people who annoyed her. She had no idea how Julian put up with what he did on a day-to-day basis without a little bit of violence. Oh, he had just lifted his hand, fingers almost clenching as if to shove his thumbs into the eye sockets of his enemy. And the small tendons flexed the knobs of his knuckles.

Julian turned, back towards her, at the same time Laura stood. Almost like a panther, so silent and smooth that he didn't realize she was on her feet, in front of him until he happened to notice her missing from her previous spot on his couch. She saw the brief rise of his eyebrows, surprise and confusion, before she grasped the front of his shirt. Laura had seen this before, thought about doing it before, never really had a reason to try it. Wanted to try it. What the hell. Lets see what happens.

She pulled him down by the lapel pulled him down to press her lips to his. Hand falling to his hip and then hooking around to his waist. Julian tasted like the old chap stick he used and maybe, pine or mint. The kiss was feather soft, her head tilting just slightly to the side. Laura didn't care for technique, only chasing the taste and scent of him. Of feeling his body pressed against hers. He didn't shove her off and he didn't yank away, and that was her permission to keep chasing.

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.