#mostlylows

[shieldedsouls]

@mostlylows

             𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒,  𝐓.𝐉 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑.     but when he's hungover,  this problem is only heightened.     he's not sure what time it is when he finally comes out of his alcohol-induced coma in the hotel room,  but it's after a few lazy noises and stretches that he begins to come to terms with the waking world;   much to his chagrin.     there's a dull pounding in his temple and the usual aches and grogginess that tend to come with a night of drinking a few too many,  but that's nothing NOVEL in the former first son’s wild lifestyle.     then flashbacks from the night before begin to kick in,  and his sleepy state is quickly forgotten,  blues flying open.     he remembers laughter.     vodka.     silver haired guy.     and one of those novelty chapels;   like the kind in vegas.    ❝   HOLY SHIT...   ❞  he mutters as it all slowly dawns on him.     they got married last night.    t.j sits up in the bed,  disregarding the hangover in lieu of a more 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 matter.     is the guy still here somewhere?     ❝   hello...?   ❞

     usually, he’s awake by now. but as it turns out? pietro can in fact outdrink his own metabolism. the price, it seems, was being out for what probably constituted a normal amount of time ( and then some ) and he doesn’t stir until there’s noise in the room. beside him. WAIT. beside him? he drank much more last night than he had realised.

   the man makes a discontented rumble at being woken, face stubbornly pressed against the pillow until he’s good and ready to face the day. “ hi, ” he reluctantly mumbles from the under the covers he’s bundled in, altogether unconcerned by having company for the moment. not wanting to get up didn’t mean he couldn’t, nor did it mean he couldn’t easily defend himself. he’d just be grouchy if he had to. “ time? ”

[freedompersonified]

       @mostlylows (continued because Steve got stuck on this and won’t let me do other things til I do this):

   𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆,  and simply shrugs and smirks mischievously at the blond.     ❝   is that right?     and what’re you gonna do,  rogers?     arrest me?     PUNISH ME?   ❞     t.j mitigates the words by shuffling closer and sliding an arm around steve’s neck,  brushing their lips gently.     ❝   i happen to have some 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐒 under the bed…..   ❞

Steve was half-asleep when he’d made the comment about TJ’s chilly feet tucking themselves against his legs, but two of the words that register with him have him wide awake. He deepens the kiss almost instantly, bringing TJ closer to him with a firm arm around his waist. “Mm, I might just have to make good use of those,” he mumbles into the kiss, nipping gently at TJ’s lower lip. “I’d say assault with chilly feet is certainly a punishable offense. . . .” His hand, which as been slowly wandering lower, makes contact with TJ’s ass and gives it a squeeze that’s somehow sharp and soft all at once.

[warkept]

         @mostlylows | plotted.

                Eyes watch T.J. closely as fingers gently dance across the bruises on his face. How one man can get into so much trouble is beyond Ashley ; it seemed like every other week, Ashley was cleaning up T.J.’s messes. Not that he minded, really. He may act like he does, but he likes to fight, relishes in the violence like a savage boar. Less than human, less than human, he was. Weapon, tool, shield. Thing.

                 As his brain snaps out of it, he realizes his hand was cupping T.J.’s cheek a tad more firm than he had intended. Clearing his throat, his touch turned tender, a quiet “ I’m sorry, ” passing through his lips. 

                 In silence, he cleans and bandages the scrapes and cuts. As per usual, he leans in and places a gentle kiss to the most painful one ; his sister had told him kisses healed wounds faster. Words he’s clung to for a long time. There was no sentiment to the action besides the hopes that T.J.’s wounds healed soon. 

               “ T.J., ” he says firmly, trying to catch his attention as he leans back on his haunches. Eyes narrow, head tilts, though expression doesn’t change. “ Do you have others who do this for you ?? ” Please say yes ; how can I leave if you don’t ??

[justicetempered]

@mostlylows || Semi-Plotted SC

A familiar face plopped down at the bar across from Steve and he couldn’t help but grin. Holding up a finger, telling the brunet just a second, Steve poured the couple beers the couple at the end had ordered before turning to get T.J.’s usual. A moment later he slid it across to the younger man, before leaning across the bar to chat.

    “You look kinda glum- everythin’ alright?”

Since pulling T.J. out of that apartment fire months ago, the brunet had become a regular at Steve’s place of work, entertaining him while on shift. They’d become real close friends, even having their own inside jokes and plenty of late-night texting conversations. It was unusual- Steve wasn’t a firefighter for the praise or the gratitude, he merely wanted to help people any way he could. T.J. seeking him out after to personally thank him and invite him to his nightclub had been unexpected, but Steve didn’t regret accepting the offer.

While their lives were vastly different, they got along well, and it had been a nice breath of fresh air to Steve’s mundane routine. He wasn’t the type of guy who habitually hung out with semi-famous owners of nightclubs. But T.J. never seemed to mind, seemingly happy to talk about normal things like Steve’s complaints about his fire chief and what show T.J. was currently binging. Steve had come to really care about the younger man, especially knowing some of the burdens of his past and of his family, and he hated seeing the usually-chipper man looking so down.

[brooklynbornn]

HAMMOND, TJ ( alias: none ) --- @mostlylows

As always, TJ’s fingers are warm. In that TOUCH, he conveys so much more than the quiet THANKS that follows. And yet? It’s gone in the next FLEETING moment. Bucky memorizes the slip of TJ’s fingers through his own, the bit of PRESSURE, and then the slow drag back. In response, he hums a bit. The soldier’s gaze falls down to the floor, tracking the SCUFFS in the toes of his boots. 

❝ Yeah? ❞ he follows, and the SMIRK that shatters is cool demeanor is inevitable. ❝ Good thing I didn’t intend on goin’ anywhere, ain’t it? ❞ Bucky drawls, eyes flicking up TJ’s body before SETTLING on the softness, on the  V U L N E R A B I L I T Y  in his expression. Reaching up, Bucky barely ghosts the tips of his metal fingers against TJ’s arm before deciding BETTER of it, and his hand falls. 

❝ And I don’t think I want to. ❞

SOURCE.

[fameheld-blog]

      @mostlylows // plotted.

                  Nightclubs weren’t especially his scene, but the Dome had a nice feel to it. A pleasant owner, too, it seemed. It seemed as though he was eager to have him perform. The night went smoothly, the crowd mingling and dancing enjoyed the performance ( a mix of covers and original songs , and a painful throwback to Peach Soda which everyone but Charlie seemed to enjoy ) and Charlie considered it a job well done. 

                  Pushing his glasses up, he wove around the crowd, making his way to the lounging area. Eyes caught on T.J. and lips curled into a smile, pleasant and polite. While he was a flatterer, he tried to keep his relationship with those who employed him professional. Walking to the empty seat on the couch beside him, Charlie slipped his hands into his pockets. “ Mind if I sit here ?? ” 

[ruintint]

          “would  you...  er,  i  could  help...  carry?  if  you  are  in...  need.”  reaching  out.  a  big  step  for  him,  actively  seeking  someone’s  attention.  at  least,  someone  who  is  not  willow.  he  tries  to  pretend  it’s  only  because  the  man  looks  like  he  could  use  an  extra  set  of  hands,  only  because  he  has  nothing  better  to  do  and  (  for  once  )  he  is  not  ready  to  head  back  to  their  apartment  just  yet.  it’s  not  because  he  requires  human  contact,  conversation.  and  it  is  definitely  not  because  willow  has  been  pushing  him  to  get  out  more.  he’s  definitely  not  in  denial.  except  that  it’s  totally  all  of  those  reasons,  and  he  most  definitely  is  in  denial  about  it.  //  @mostlylows  bc ...  i  felt  like  it....

[indyflanery]

@mostlylows continued from x

                       A VISIT FROM THE ARCHAEOLOGIST IS UNEXPECTED   ;  but welcome nonetheless.   t.j had been in the middle of guiding two delivery guys to where he wanted the new set of couches in the dome’s main celebration room.   t.j is admiring his awesome taste in furniture when the offer comes,  turning his attention to indiana.   ❝   yeah,  sure   —   i can duck out for a half-hour.   ❞   one of the many upsides to being the boss.  ❝   there’s a new place down the street i haven’t tried out yet.   how do you feel about tacos  ??  ❞

*·☆ﾟ. *·   various prompts.   /   accepting.   (   @indyflanery​.   )

He had to admit to often popping by randomly when he probably shouldn’t, but TJ never seemed to mind, so there was that. Smiling, Indy nodded. “Tacos are great,” he agreed. He waited a moment for the other man to lead the way before saying anything else. “Club must be doing well. You look like you’re getting ready for...something.“