will u catch me if i leap into ur arms
thor vc : always 🥺
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will u catch me if i leap into ur arms
thor vc : always 🥺
@foerge said: My friends don’t like you, but i do:
Text for Eames - 1:05am: Don’t tell me you just have a feeling. I think you’ll find that that feeling is in fact alcohol churning in your gut. Text for Eames - 1:06am: Go puke or something. Text for Eames - 1:09am: And, also, go tell your friends that they have no taste at all.
" 𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 . " he’s moving around too much , trying to divide his attentions unto too many things , and it’s obstructing heugh’s ability to properly inspect the skin that’s swollen ruddy and blue , the gash it adorns . the grip he fixes onto that jaw isn’t firm , but it is very present --- hoping to draw eames back to the task at hand . “ stay god damn still so i can get some iodine on this . “
@foerge // sc
@foerge | starter | jaskier
“So lock me up and sock me up and throw away the key-” if there’s one thing to be said about being locked in the makeshift prison cell, it’s that it does lend inspiration to some new lyrics. Not that Jaskier has ever truly struggled with inspiration-perish the thought-but it’s nice to compose something outside of his usual style. A shame that this tune in particular might rot in here with him, or worse if his captors have their way. Working for the Redanian Secret Service (as reluctant an employee as he can be) is dangerous work, but Jaskier’s never looked death quite so squarely in the face as right now. For all he is, technically, a spy he’s really more of an official gossip than he is James Bond. The Service finds him useful because he’s famous and popular (and sexy) enough to be invited to fancy gatherings and get intel that way, not because he knows five ways to kill a man with a ballpoint pen, or whatever else it is spies always do in the movies. Jaskier wouldn’t know: he’s more of a fantasy guy himself.
“Go fuck yourself you whoresone, ‘cause your through fucking with me!” there’s some banging outside of the door, some angry shouting. Either someone from the Service is coming to rescue him after all (deeply unlikely, he is nothing if not expendable) or his captors are tired of his song and have decided to put things to a swift end (very likely. Jaskier pretends his hands don’t tremble at the thought). When the door bursts open though it is neither a fellow spy nor one of the sour-faced men that took him. Instead it’s-
“Eams?” Jaskier blinks, pulls himself to his feat. “What the hell are you doing here?”
" just kiss me, i can't take this anymore. "
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 . he counts himself adequately blessed for the allowance he'd been given , to still have his helmet that keeps him after the tussle has burnt itself out ; it keeps eames from seeing the way heugh's been caught by his unawares tickled pink , the way he has somehow managed to yank out the bucking grin , shoves it into heugh's dimples stolen straight out of boyhood . it's cute , but what a pot shot . heugh gets away by the skin of his teeth . " the more you ask , " the metal man has to step over one of the unconscious left asleep on the pebbled floor in order to get to eames , to reach out and take him by his jaw --- to give it a flattering wiggle before he passes him by , " the longer i'm gonna make you wait . "
@foerge
❛ you’re such a tease . ❜
" 𝐲𝐞𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚 . " if it weren't for the objective disinclination to be strong - armed through the window onto the unsuspecting eames and into a tumble that was as cartoonish as it was painful , heugh might've been more of a mind to let out a quip or two for the way it left them entangled there on the floor among the peppering of broken glass scattered throughout the pea gravel . a grimace pulls on his face as he smacks a hand down on a lapel in upset , grunting as he sits himself up on the belt buckle caught underneath his awkward straddle . maybe another day , in another position --- and preferably without the forebode of heavy foot falls descending upon them at their backs . " don't let the blood all go to your head , pal . "
@foerge
❛ say please . ❜
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐠𝐡'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 , 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 . it seems as though eames was out to milk this for all it was worth --- what an opportunist . if only looks really could kill .
“ --- eames . “ toes skim the god forsaken ground , the effort to try and keep himself balanced on the unreliable curvature of the tips of his skirmish scuffed shoes threatens to put him at a dreaded sway that just might excite the zip ties too tightly wound around his wrists enflamed and chewn , and coax them to gnaw deeper into his raw , ruddy flesh . the name comes breath swept off his lips . takes a pot shot at the meaty split at the fat of the bottom and puts heugh’s nose to a nigh undetectable twitch for the way it stings . he doesn’t need eames to get out of this . the yawn of his ribs pulled long and protesting the taut of his shirt speaks of his try to keep composure --- to collect his patience , and not have his friend suffocating between petty thighs until the right goon came along to found heugh struggling to revive him before the very inconvenient thing happens , and they’re left with worse odds than they’d had coming in . steady heugh . lashes flutter at the throbbing in his wrists as he moves perhaps just a touch too boldly in an attempt to find better purchase beneath him . “ really . you’re doing this now . “
@foerge
" make me. "
" 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 . seriously ? " eames couldn't be serious . " slick look at me : i'm standing here in a suit of armor that could withstand the psi of a god damn tyrannosaurus . this gun is more powerful than god and our sun combined . "
it's the adrenaline talking --- he'll apologize for it later . " quit tryna get a rise out of me before i make you slap yourself to sleep like we're kids in fucking middle school . "
@foerge