susan storm . . . . a natural flirt . it’s a storm thing.
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susan storm . . . . a natural flirt . it’s a storm thing.
❝ hey, did i leave my hoodie at yours? i can’t find the hoodie in my apartment. it's my favorite hoodie, but i seem to have misplaced it @nota1one. ❞
regina doesn't knock , she NEVER does . doors to the queen imply that permission is necessary , and to her permission is something she stopped asking for a long time ago . the lights in the room begin to flicker before she even steps inside . she didn't mean to make them flicker , but the close proximity to bob feels like standing next to a live wire that has been DIPPED in gasoline . the air hums with a heavy charge that feels simply WRONG to her . " you're loud . " she says casually , leaning against the doorframe as if she was bored instead of bracing herself . her arms cross as she tilts her chin , a classic pose for regina george , but also grounding herself . polishing the exterior , being untouched . her eyes flicker pink , " and i don't mean out loud , " she taps her temple with two pink manicured nails , " i mean in here . like a someone stuffed a god and a nightmare into the same skull and asked for them to share . " she moves closer , testing the gravity in the room . what she normally was met with was an emotional and TANGLED mess , but bob was different . he was static and fractured sunlight . " do you ever get tired of pretending you are the stable one in the room ? "
@nota1one
bob is just constantly the scared hamster.
@nota1one.
cont. from [ x ] / @nota1one
yelena has a habit of looking for traces of bob in places he's been . sometimes in the living room she'll notice the book he's currently reading . a tattered jumper hung over the armrest of the sofa . she tucks those little things about him into the recesses of her mind .
it's when those traces become less and less that she knows something isn't right . no books around , stray clothing , a forgotten mug . nothing . he must be up on that empty floor , she thinks ... he wants to be alone . tinkering with whatever he can get his hands on .
and when he's not there he's tucked away in his room . sometimes late at night she'll wander down the hallway like she normally does . it's quiet . she'll ask if he's awake and she'll be met with silence .
until she can't take it any longer . until it feels like the worry could swallow her whole . if he doesn't want her around then so be it but she needs to know it's coming from bob .
she's overbearing and she knows it . she sees the switch flip ... the moment he can't contain it any longer . it all comes out eventually . yelena is in the line of fire and she refuses to react , to give him that satisfaction . tries not to take it personally . he wants to trigger her quick temper , hoping she'll push him away ... she can handle it .
despite his words hitting their mark , yelena miraculously doesn't react . neutral , unwavering . she tilts her chin up , eyes fixed on him . ❝ no you're not ... you haven't look at me in days . ❞ this isn't bob ... bob wouldn't intentionally try to hurt her like this . ❝ if you really believe all of that then look me in the face and say it . ❞
“ i heard things can get pretty dark up there. you can show me, you know. my demons may even match yours @nota1one .” a woman void of fear, stands stoic and ready for whatever comes her way adding a cheeky wink for extra flare.
˚₊‧꒰ა 🎃 👻 💀 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> ❝ YOU OKAY ? ❞ .. her voice was quiet. she didn't want to startle him. ❝ want some coffee ? ❞
˚₊‧꒰ა 🎃 👻 💀 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> @nota1one 🐚 liked ❝ for a one liner. ❞
this is not a life easily understood by many. it really is a good thing; who could wish this burden on another? has she not blanched at the very whisper of her kids' ambitions of heroism? has she not fought valiantly to show them the bliss and comforts that a life void of superpowers can provide? the whole world watches, waits, whispers of rumours that can't be misproven any more than they can be proven true. bob lies next to her, their arms snug around one another, legs intertwined, just listening to the sound of the rain pelting the windows, the rhythmic flow of their breathing, their heartbeats. the room may be silent, but their minds are anything but. such is the cost of a heavy mission.
she shifts slightly, adjusting her arm to prop up her head, preparing to start that first, jolting conversation as to what went down the night before. but once she looks at him, sees the conflict raging in his gaze, the battle for calm in his mind, the precarious brink that he threatens to tip over... all thoughts of discussion are erased, melting away in the wake of her concern and understanding. instead, she lifts a hand, tenderly brushes the hair back from his face, and presses a kiss to his shoulder.
" you know something? i don't think we should go to that gala. mm-mm. i think we're both feeling sick. we should just stay here, watch movies, eat takeout... i think, my love, we've more than earned our rest. the only question that demands an answer right now is what kind of takeout we want. hm? "
@nota1one / S.C.