#sometal

❛  you  don’t  know  when  to  give  up,  do  you?    ❜

feels  silly,  feels  ridiculous,  to  be  in  HIS  proximity,  an  outcast  in  a  sea  of  THOSE  WHO  BELONG  in  the  eyes  of  high  power  &  known  name. how  easy  it  would  be  to  look  at  someone  &  declare  them  DEAD  in  a  snap  of  a  finger,  if  he  so  pleased --   of  course,  mommy  dearest  wouldn’t  approve  of  that.  IT  WAS  ONLY  ONE  TIME,  YOU  KNOW !  brow  raises  &  gunnar’s  hand  tucks  in  a  fist  under  his  chin,  propping  his  head  up  to  show  some  sort  of  resemblance  to  interest  --  a  blank  gaze  that  isn’t  moving  that  tells  otherwise,  the  long  stare  at  @sometal​  that  gunnar  almost  forgets  to  react. 

❛  are  you  always  this  bad  at  conversations?  ❜  gunnar  remarks,  a  tasteless  sigh  that  escapes  long  &  bore.   ❛  you  don’t  know  when  to  keep  trying,  do  you?  ❜  the  perfect  rich  boy  persona  keeps  strong,  carefully  suggested  words  that  hold  a  sense  of  passive  aggressiveness  --  if  you  cared  to  listen  close  enough.  polite  in  a  sense  --  &  yet,  reeks  with  so  much  ASSHOLENESS.  entitlement,  even.    

❛  you’re  about  as  intimidating  as  a  butterfly.  ❜

scoff  that  is  way  too  easy  coming  out,  practiced,  lip  that  curls  in  a  soft  snarl,  nose  scrunching  with  distaste.  the  statement  is  disgusting,  rodrick’s  eyes  rolling  from  it.  not  like  he  was  TRYING  to  be  intimidating,  not  with  people  that  were  LIKE  HIM  in  rodrick’s  eyes.  expression  settles,  brows  furrowing  as  his  lips  spread  wide in  a  pursed  smile,  confusion  that  reigns  in. 

@sometal​​ asked: Oz points to Steve’s lap “is this seat taken?” and then proceeds to plop themselves down there without even waiting for an answer. 💗

      𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬'𝑺 𝑩𝑨𝑹𝑬𝑳𝒀 𝑨 𝑴𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 between him looking up from the magazine in his hands and the impact as his full weight was thrown on top of him. A gentle and loving force that sent him sinking into the cushions of the couch, with an instinct that left his arms slipping around his waist to hold him steady. Not that it was needed, but the desire to hold him at any chance was a constant, and when given the chance? never taken for granted. Why he couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, pulling him in close to pepper his face in a flurry of delicate kisses.