#( ;threads )

[formaberserkir]

@devilmayreply

Being short on money was not equivalent to being short on spirit. Yumiko, however, found herself falling into the first category daily.

The repetition of her vows, especially the one of poverty, usually was enough to ground her, but not anymore. Now, the incessant growling of her stomach ordered her to hustle, and her current scheme was working pretty well if the clunk of a solid chunk of credit cards in her skirt pocket was anything to judge by.

It wasn't enough, certainly not to keep up with her appetite, nevermind lodgings that weren't a prayer request in return for a couch and shower.

It had started as a curiosity, betting on the result of Iscariot's training to lure people in — arm wrestle a little Roman nun and bet a few! There's no way you could lose, right?

Look at her. Pathetic!

Raw knuckles raised, Yumiko took a breath, preparing to rap tap tap on the shop's door. This was rude, so rude, and she'd apologize later, but...

"H-hey! It's, ah, Sister Takagi and I was just wondering, uh..."

This was embarrassing to say the least, and her voice hitched for a moment, realizing that this all sounded ridiculous.

"...I think I can beat you in arm wrestling!"

[decayingobsessions]

@auvaiis // continued

When he comes over, they make a show of curtseying, their too-sharp smile turned up towards Kane, eager and excited. They give the impression that if they had a tail? It'd be wagging right about now. He is, they can see, already caught in their trap. Whatever that is.

"far away," they report in that same, weirdly pitched tone that buzzes with an electricity unseen. "i-i-i'm trying to find somewhere, t-tonight to st-stay?"

[thelostcausesarchive]

@redemptioninterlude ( blair & ) felix.

THERE is a mocking chuff about his fit of laughter. Cigarette prominently propped between his lips as he lights it. He can not only recognize the familiar musk springing from her infamous floral scent -- Chanel No. 5? - It's what his Gran would dawn, and he's quick to not allow Blair to forget it as he leans in toward his group of comrades and whispers. He's been the talk of both Constance and St. Jude's as their pride and joy for the future - a British aristocratic family, having set foot on American ground for a rapid growing business affair.

He is well aware it isn't proper decorum to gossip about the self proclaimed Queen Bee, but he could not care less, he sets his own standards and rules. Still - is he intrigued? In part -- then again, what's with all the head bands?

As she walks past, Felix finally chimes, a canting of his head whilst he tauntingly flocks to her:

"Am I to believe you find me arrogant?" he begins, slipping to her side, her flit of minions not far off.

[mechanicalheartbeat]

"Sure we have blankets already but are they super comfy, "I'm sorry one of my robots destroyed our kitchen" blankets?"

No they weren't, and while Tony wished he could say this was one of his better formulated plans to apologize to Pepper after one of his inventions went haywire he had to admit it wasn't. This wasn't even the first time something like this had happened. Albeit at least this time he didn't accidentally blow up half their pent house.... Whenever she lets him into the bedroom he quickly takes a moment to steal a kiss from her lips, sealing the deal on her apology accepted.

As he breaks away from her, he tosses the blankets onto the bed, quickly trying to sort out of the collection of gifts he has in his hands. "Friday, initiation Movie Night Protocol."

As the words leave Tony's lips the room begins to transform, turning their seemingly ordinary bedroom into a movie theater equipped with a Projector and massive screen that comes slowly drawing down from the ceiling. He places the rather large order of take out down on the nearby dresser, before holding up the movie in his hand. "Now as you well know, I am more of an action guy myself... but I happened to find this copy of Pretty Woman laying around and as penance for destroying the kitchen, I've decided, against my better judgement might I add, to spend the evening watching it with you."

There's no missing the wink as he opens the case and pops the disc into the projector.

"I may or may not have also gone a little overboard on the takeout. I couldn't exactly remember which you liked more so I got a little bit of everything... unfortunately they didn't have any strawberries... so I am sorry about that. "

"Oh and of course, where are my manners..."

There is no missing the mischievous look upon Tony's face as he looks Pepper over in her bathrobe one good time and smirks.

"Would you like for me to take your "coat" Ms. Potts?"

@coffeemusings

[chingonaclawsarchive2]

@107thsoldat. bucky.

The motel room is dim, lit only by the flickering neon sign bleeding in through threadbare curtains. Laura sits on the edge of the bed, her elbows on her knees, hands clenched tight. Her knuckles are pale. She can still smell blood...not hers...and it coats the inside of her skull like a film she can’t scrub clean.

She doesn’t flinch when the door creaks open behind her. She knows it’s him. She can feel him. Smell him. The quiet, steady presence she hasn’t decided if she wants close or far away.

“Don’t,” she says before he speaks. Her voice is sharp, quiet. Cracked around the edges. “Whatever you’re gonna say, just...don’t.”

She turns her head just enough to catch him in the corner of her eye. Her posture doesn’t shift. She stays still, rigid, like if she moves too much, she might come apart.

“You don’t get it, Barnes,” she murmurs, the name bitter on her tongue, not out of hatred, but familiarity. “I was made to kill. Not to be held. Not to be looked at like…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. The words taste wrong.

Her jaw clenches.

“I’m not something you save.”

[svoyadovaarchived]

@cardiomyapathy. kelly.

"YOU are a real piece of work you know that?"

"Actually -- you know what -- it's worse. Shit you are shit, Anderson."

[narrativeanomaly]

@bloodrodeo // continued

It was a silly way to die, but death has come to them in much stranger and sillier fashions then falling off a fence and breaking their neck. If anything, it was mostly just embarrassing.

But Trent has yet to meet Wrinkle and so they need to see this through.

They hear his voice and turn towards it, still walking slowly on shaky legs, still wishing it was raining so they could turn their mouth to the sky. But it's not raining. They keep walking until the come across Trent, and they stare down at him with those sharp, glowing eyes they have and then they speak again.

"i need something to drink."