Send me 'Spin' and see what you get:1st Person gets: A hug || interactions ;accepting! || killreagan
SHE FOUND IT BEST TO LET HIM RAMBLE. she knows better than interrupt him when he is giving his grand speeches with deep meanings and grand gestures. it seems cathartic to him and so, she just lets it, and enjoys the ride. the abandoned house in the woods in quiet and with no other students around; here they can talk, and think and just be themselves. her hands tap gently on the wooden floor as she looks up, barely seeing the sky through a hole in the ceiling as he speaks.
she wouldn’t let him know that she wasn’t listening, for his own sake. though she caught lingering words about how our society works and how messed up the system was; how the world was a mess for people like them. “but you are here now, markie-mark. so relax.“ she tries to sweep in, a smile on her lips as lizzie’s arms push forward her body, circling his shoulders and closing the gap; she can smell the freshly put clothes and the lingering scent of smoke on him, so characteristic to marcus that she feels at ease. “EVERYONE HERE IS FAMILY. you don’t have to be alone anymore.” and she hopes he can listen.
because she buries her head in his shoulder and doesn’t let go, eyes close as lizzie finds giving comfort more easy than she thought, and for what she knows, marcus needs it. “just let me know, okay? and i’ll be there.”
They say random is the new sexy.(Based on our Jailbreak thread. :3)
With the three weeks they had been labeled as fugitives, they had endured all the running, the chasing, the threats that had been hampering their dreams of reaching home or whatever that place they were foolishly seeking.They had withstood the cold outside and different levels of deprivation in exchange of roaming free—
But what they couldn’t stand, in fact, is each other.
One reason was stubbornness always gets in the way and it leaves a sour taste in the mouth. The only difference was Prompto was very able to spit it out—but the other was doing exactly the opposite of that.
”Are ya kiddin’?” His brows were arched as he assessed Cloud’s most recent injury, a nasty gunshot in the leg that was more or less starting to get infected in the rain. “Ya bleedin’ buckets, man. How fine is that?”
”I am fine.” A total lie; he was too dizzy from the loss of blood, weak enough to be shoved into a pile of boxes without offering much of a struggle. Much to his dismay, Prompto was damn ignoring his wishes again and instead crouched to inspect the wound more closely.
”Get off my back.” He received a scoff followed by a slight pressure from the makeshift tourniquet. Goddamn, it stung more than hell does. “Yeah, ya know if this is your death wish, I’d be glad to leave ya alone.”
”I'm not going to die with this.”
”Oh good lord. If I had a mirror, I’d be glad to shove it in your face.” The paleness was frightening that his skin was literally white; from a foot away, Prompto could hear his ragged breathing from the irregular rise and fall of Cloud’s chest. He was friggin’ alarmed and the idiot was just trying to shrug it off.
”If you continue this, I’d just put you to sleep and pour scotch all over your—”
“—could leave me and go by yourself—”
”—wound so I—” He paused as he processed the last words, head instantly jotting up and mouth popping out in disbelief.
Did he hear what he thought he had heard? What. The hell.
”Yeah, go on.” Cloud’s vision whirred when he felt himself being lifted up by the collar of his rain-soaked shirt; one moment his back was leaning against a support, the next, his hand was clamping on the other’s wrist to keep himself steady. Slowly regaining his senses, those which aren’t by the pungent smell of his blood, he found himself crouching and face to face with Prompto’s agitated expression.
“Ya wanna die badly? I’ll give it to ya.” He was scowling, he was spatting his words out while he shook Cloud. He’d forget the bullshit that is the injury—it was more like this guy needs to have his head checked first. “Just don’t get melodramatic over things ‘cause you’re gettin’ disgustin’.”
But Cloud didn’t reply—he was busy with absorbing the fact that Prompto’s lips were parting and closing just a few inches away—and he’d very much like to blame it on the blood loss that it’s getting annoying already. “Shut up,” he hit back as he gripped the opposite collar, fingers almost slipping because of the dampened cloth. “Just leave me alone and shut up.”
”Why how charmin!”
”Don’t get too noisy. You ain’t helping.”
”How thick, for fuck’s sake!”
”I told you to damn shut up, you—!”
For some reason Cloud managed to pull him closer—much closer than he would ever be happy about, and the next thing he was aware of is that he could see the details of the other man down to how many lashes were there, their eyes are in level but both in shock, and there was subtle movements in his lips.
A kiss. A fucking out of place, spur of the moment, out of context kiss.
Prompto froze upon realization though only disconnecting when Cloud pulled back, both their faces red from either the lack of air or embarrassment, or both.
“What the actual…” He tried to say something but failed; his assailant was just looking at him like an idiot (as expected), as if there was some accusation in those eyes. “…Frick.”
”That—that doesn’t count.” Cloud finally breathed out—it’s a wonder how his blood could still rush to his head when he had lost so much that it might have affected his brain. “That doesn’t amount to anything… you’re just too noisy.”
”Well… uh. This is awkward, ya genius.” But of course he wouldn’t go down without a fight and he leans in to let their lips brush once more. “That one doesn’t count either—" but his statement was cut off with another. And another. And another. And another, until they just collapsed on the floor and made an incomprehensible mess——
———-This is the other reason why they really don’t get along. Apparently pride and sexual tension is the least appealing of combinations.
It’s cold outside and a cup of hot chocolate just wasn’t enough. (AU-ish)
Three times she passed by him on the couch, and three times she saw how his lips were curved down and how his brows were twitching as if he was fighting down a shout of frustration—classic Cloud. He was silently moping again, and just that face was making the temperature drop a few more notches.
Aerith leaned against the sill, abandoning her first intention of admiring the snow flakes that were accumulating against the foggy class just to face the grumpy blond.
”Hey, hey.”
Cloud didn’t need to look up because her voice was smiling at him already, although he still did. “What’s that?” The woman gestured something in midair with his hands, “I could feel your pout from here.”
”I'm not… pouting.” As if his denial could hide the fact that his lips were jotting out like a sore spot. Yeah, right. It’s not called pouting. It’s a manly frown. Take note: there is a difference between those. For him, a pout is given for childish reasons, but in fact he was having the glower of his life because they were supposed to have a picnic in the park—she had been hyped about it since two weeks ago, but the Planet decides to throw a fit and the cover the world with ice.
Yeah right. How generous, he wanted to wave his fist to the heavens.
”The snow just has this horrible timing.”
”Horrible seems an understatement with the way you look, you know.”
She chuckled, he shifted in the couch and looked the other way, the same set of gestures that consist more than half of their interactions. Oddly, they get along well more than anyone had expected them to, and it’s a dynamic that’s inexplicable.
Barret had claimed before that he knew how to describe their relationship; he says it’s just like maggot cheese—in which Aerith is the premium dairy and their mighty blond is the insect that creeps all over it but in the end the mix is dangerously delicious. Vincent and Tifa were almost half- convinced. Of course Cloud called bullshit on it right away, just like what he calls this day.
With his prolonged silence, the woman had no choice but to step forward, stopping a foot away from the couch but near enough to each out and poke his cheek with a finger. “Come on, come on scout. What can I do to make you smile? Hot chocolate?”
He could sense the humor behind her words and fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Not a kid.” A harrumph, some murmurs, but she only caught the end of his sentence. “…something else.”
Aerith’s smile grew wider and poked his nose this time.
”Hot chocolate with marshmallows?”
”Wh—nope.”
”Hmmm… Hot chocolate with marshmallows and sprinkles on top?”
”No… I told you I’m not—” He paused and groaned when he met an expectant grin. “—well, that sounds fine. But.”
”But what?”
Silence tolled after her question as they conversed with their eyes—but in the end he still couldn’t shake her off. Fine. His brow arched and his mouth curved towards the left. You asked for it.
Aerith could only giggle when he took her into his arms in one sweeping motion, bum hitting the couch safely and her back feeling the familiar warmth that was radiating from him, she could not complain with the set-up at all. It’s no secret that he was her favorite couch.
”Really?” Her palm landed on his arm that was snaked around her waist and indulged herself with running it along the muscles she had memorized already, too well that she could tell whenever they’re tensed, flexed, or relaxed. “I offered you lots and you could not say you wanted a hug. I can’t see its difference with a cup of hot chocolate.”
Cloud sighed in her ear and closed his eyes, chin resting against her shoulder. “Hmm… To be fair… This,” He tightened his grip for emphasis, “is much… hotter… than that.” And she just chuckled unashamedly in reply, at his expense.
”Something tells me you’ve waited two weeks long to drop that on me.”
Thank Gaia she couldn’t see how his face turned hundred shades of red after her remark—and no, he had been thinking about that line for a month.
Send me Spin || 15 person gets ::TO SEDUCE MY MUSE AND THEY'LL WILLINGLY COMPLY
{♣} || “K-k-k-k-k-k-koraa!” This is probably—scratch that—definitely a bad idea. He doesn’t want to turn into a ghost yet… Kami-sama, please spare his soul...
{♣} || Oh... this is such a development. A day with the blond... Somehow he knows he will have fun but there's also 98% probability that the date would involve haunted houses or The Conjuring or Texas Chainsaw Massacre... Except if Nagisa's possesed by a kind-er spirit.
"Anou..." He sighed and bowed reluctantly. "Take care of me, onegaishimasu." Not scare him shitless and all that nasty jazz.
{♣} || The guys for sure will judge him for this, but no matter. He thinks Gou deserves some kind of a gesture as a sign of gratitude for entering their names in the relay--if she didn't do that, everything wouldn't have happened, they wouldn't have won.
Given this chance, it'll be nice if he should do it, right? He's the captain after all. Maybe he should tell the others to follow after him later.
"Kou-chan." He stepped behind her and covered her eyes, whispering a gentle 'arigatoo' against her ears before leaving a light peck in her cheek.
{♣} || "Haru-chan." As easy as 1-2-3, Makoto swept his friend into his arms and almost lifted her up in a suffocating but otherwise warm bear hug. "Sugoi, na! You've gotten lighter!"
Send me Spin || 10th person gets :: My muse at your beck and call
{♣} || Oh, so Sharky drew a pretty good number, he could order the Orca around. Well... there's no assurance that the redhead would not bite him figuratively. He had to use his charms unconsciously on this one.
"Ohayoo, Rin..." Runs a hand on his frills, brushing them out of his face, his voice getting a few notches deeper. "Do you want anything from me, na?"
