[TEXT]: according to my blood alcohol level now's a perfect time for you to come over and love me Anita&Quinn
Drunk Texts Meme:
[love] - you weigh literally five pounds that much booze is not good for you.
[love] - come to the clinic, i’ll set you up with a banana bag and then i’ll love you.
[love] - not that i dont love you already.
[love] - unless you’re at that drunk level were you don’t wanna hear the L word anymore at which point I ... llama you that’s what I meant to say, llama.
[love] - get your llama butt over here and i’ll llama you all night.
[love] - i’m gonna delete these from your phone while you’re sleeping.
Send me “Wide Awake” & I’ll tell you a random 3AM thought my character would have about yours:
(or do it like me and Ari, and guess the character mine is thinking about!)
He comes with the sharp tang of beer spilled on him, his flannel wet and heavy against his chest. He comes with the heavy, sweet smell of weed and the burn in his eyes and at the back of his throat that says it's time to turn tail and run. He comes with the dip in the pit of his stomach that says he likes those tastes, those smells, those sounds just a little too much and with the half formed plan at the back of his mind.
But he also comes with a blanket that smells like fresh cotton and feels like a cloud along his arms. He comes with candles that fill the room with the scent of lavender and cast a dancing glow along their limbs. He comes with quiet, and with comfort, and he soothes.
Pain with pleasure, chaos that transforms into peace, and Bell almost finds himself wishing for the fear, for the want, because that is what brings him near.
Keir could count the number of dates he had been on with one hand. There hadn’t been much room for dating in Niflheim - unless it was to court the daughter of some lesser lord his father had decided was a suitable match - which never particularly seemed appealing to Keir. But duty was duty, and he’d done it well. He’d bring the girls flowers, and compliment their hair - each and every one did it the same way, did they have some kind of group text? - and he’d chastely kiss their cheeks goodnight after a dull and lengthy dinner and even more interminable walk back to their parent’s home.
He’d ask them if they wanted to spend some time in the artists’ quarter of the city his family had named capital of their realm, but each and every one would demure and giggle their way back home.
No one had said yes to the artists quarter until he did - until the night he’d been guarding Keir on the walk home after one of those interminable dates, he’d spoken up, I’ll go with you to the artists quarter if you’d like, my prince, and they had.
And Keiran had never laughed so much. Food had never tasted so good. The lights in the quarter had never shone so brightly than in his hair. And his lips had never burned so much than when he’d pressed his to Keiran’s.
Keir wondered idly if the quarter still stood or if his father had razed that to the ground the night he’d ripped the eye from his socket and he’d run.
He shook his head, and centered back on the date he was currently on, hoping his reverie hadn't missed too much.
“There he is,” Benny murmured, eyes watching him - watching both Keir’s eyes (it was one of the things he liked best about Benny, the man never shied away from the things that made Keir less), “Where did you go?”
Keir flushed slightly, “The past,” he swallowed dryly, “I was remembering the last date I’d been on.”
Benny nodded, “Do you want to tell me about it?”
Keir shook his head, “Not yet,” he murmured, shifting his legs under the table, “My past is … unpleasant, and i don’t want to ruin such a beautiful night with that.”
Benny shifted in his seat as well, his knees under the table knocked into Keir’s and he jolted away quickly, “Sorry!” he looked afraid he’d moved too quickly, and Keir nearly laughed at the fear in his eyes - as thought Keiran was some deer in the forest come face to face with a wolf about to bolt at any too swift movement.
“Its alright,” Keir told him, moving his knees back to press against Benny’s, “I don’t mind. Its been a long time since what happened to me, and I’m much happier now, here with you.”
❛ your lips look cold, want me to warm them up for you? ❜ Nova/Fish
Nova was nearly at his breaking point.
He’d been fine, of course with Nicky coming over to spend some time with Fish while the two of them played Mario Kart and got too high to function, but he had to draw a line somewhere. He cringed, the smallest bit, as Nicky’s hands splayed the smallest bit lower on Fish’s abdomen as they blew smoke out the window of their room in the fraternity house.
“You know,” Nicky murmured into Fish’s ear, “Your lips look awfully cold. Want me to warm them up for you?”
“Okay!” Nova interjected - the word bursting from his mouth accompanied by a fog of weed smoke, “I’m gonna go see if Teddy wants some help with whatever snow day surprise he’s making in the kitchen - you two need to fuck way too bad for me to be hanging out in here.”
Fish grinned, and slid a hand into Nicky’s back pocket, leaning down for what would, undoubtedly be a very lazy, very sloppy high kiss, “Sounds good, buddy,” he winked as Nova slid through the door, “I’ll come down later.”
“Much later,” Nicky grinned, flashing Nova a grateful look. Nova nodded and slid out the door into the hallway, and heard the door lock behind him, “Just don’t do anything on my bed!” he called out, and thought he heard a thump against the wall on Fish’s side of the room as a response.
“Damn honeymoon phase,” Nova muttered, heading down to the kitchen. This wasn’t the first time he’d been kicked out of his room so Nicky and Fish could go at it, and he was very much aware it wouldn’t be the last. He’d thought about asking if they could spend a little more time at Nicky’s apartment on campus, but that would mean less time with his best friend, and Nova wasn’t quite ready to take that step.
He jumped the last two stairs into the kitchen, intending to startle Teddy the smallest bit - just for a laugh, and tgo see if he could snake him fling chocolate syrup or marshmallows or whatever the hell he was stirring against the wall behind him like they did in the cartoons - but found, instead, Puck standing at the island eating a bowl of cereal.
“Oh, uh … where’s Tediffer?” Nova asked, more than a little distracted by the handsome figure in front of him, as he always was whenever he ran into Puck without warning.
Bright blue eyes snapped up to his from where they’d been trailing along Nova’s body (he hid his smile, they’d only shared a bed that once, and it didn’t mean anything, he reminded himself), and he shrugged, “Said something about Redo needing him, and bounced out. Told me to tell anyone who asked he’d be back in a few hours - so far eight people have asked.”
Nova laughed and crossed to the fridge for a beer - he was already beginning to feel the looseness in his limbs from the weed, and his brain felt like a cloud of mist was resting on it, keeping it calm and quiet and languid. He cracked the can and leaned back against the closed door of the fridge, “So you’ve just been hanging out in here since he left, just in case someone was looking for him?”
Puck shrugged, “Seemed like the right thing to do, and I don’t mind. I’ve got a book and I was hungry anyway.”
“So you’re just going to hang out in the kitchen for a couple hours until Teddy gets back?”
He shrugged again, and took a bite of his cereal.
Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was the loneliness that had followed him down the hallway and into the kitchen after seeing Nicky and Fish snuggled up and coupled up, or maybe it was just the fact that Puck really was just going to wait there until Teddy got back, because it was the right thing to do - Nova didn’t know which, but some combination of the three had his guard down lower than usual, and he grinned at Puck.
“What?” Puck asked, grinning back.
“You’re cute as hell, Charlie,” Nova took a sip of his beer as he watched the smile on Puck’s face freeze as he took in what Nova had just said. He shrugged, “Its the truth,” and wandered out of the kitchen.
He’d like to warm up those lips sometime, if Puck would let him.
Sky brought his spaceship in for a landing at the spaceport SHIELD had built on the outskirts of New York City when it had become clear that they needed extra parking spots. Once Sky had found a reason to continue making landings on Earth and it became clear Captain Marvel would be bringing more and more refugees to their shores, SHIELD had determined that the volume of extra terrestrial visitors was not maintainable for the little skyport they had created on top of Avengers Tower. The garage at the top of the building was really only feasible for one helicopter or a very small plane, and Sky’s spaceship - while not huge like several SHIELD reports had mentioned - was a respectable size for a ship designed for deep space spelunking and was, regrettably, just a bit too big for the garage. The spaceport, unfortunately despite all of SHIELD’s best efforts, was still relatively small, and Sky did not enjoy bringing his ship in for landings there.
As such, Sky was so focused on his landing - could someone handle a HUGE ship as deftly as this, fuckers? - that he almost missed Thad’s laughter.
“What?” he asked, biting his lip the smallest bit as he touched their back wheels down.
“Is that supposed to be a snowman?” Thad asked, pointing through the front windshield.
Sky turned his attention to the front of the ship, and squinted at the pile of snow on the Avengers Spaceport grounds in front of them.
“Its got all the makings of one,” he admitted, which was technically true. There were three balls of snow rolled and piled on top of each other, and a gaping semi circle under two dots carved directly into the snow the snow that, while garish, could still be considered a mouth and nose.
Thad shook his head, “These humans and their Christmas.”
Sky grinned, and touched their front wheels to the ground just in front of the snowman. He turned his attention to the cool down protocols, and shut down sequence, “I dunno,” he said absently, “I think its nice. The humans all turn nostalgic and are kind for once, and the songs are heart warming.”
Thad turned to look at him, “Is this your first Christmas?” he asked, bright eyes analyzing Sky in a way he chose to ignore - he’d been analyzed enough times like that to know something very, very good, but very, very involved was about to happen to him.
“Maybe,” he responded cautiously, “I didn’t used to spend this much time on Earth, and this time of year is also the annual rager on Bazalvaeda - which you know I never miss.”
Thad was quiet, while Sky got the ship into docking mode and did his sweep of the deck for any particularly human-unfriendly devices that might tempt a bored cleaning crew. He found it to be a nice touch that the spaceport had a cleaning crew come through each ship that docked, but a little bit of overboard - a trait that seemed to be particularly human, the more he got to know them.
“Maybe,” Thad finally started, giving voice to the thoughts that had kept him quiet the whole time Sky had been docking and disembarking their ship, “You should skip Bazalvaeda this year.”
Sky lifted an eyebrow, pausing at the snowman to turn to look at his boyfriend, “And why would I do that?”
Thad smiled, and shimmied his way into Sky’s arms, “Because I think you’d have fun celebrating Christmas with us at the Tower.”
“You celebrate Christmas?”
“Well, no,” Thad admitted, “but its still fun to watch Jasper make Beckett put up garlands, and to see the far too large tree Thor drags in for them all to decorate.”
Sky frowned, tightening his arms around Thad’s shoulders, and pretended to think about it, “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to delay Bazalvaeda - it is a month long event, anyway. I just have one question.”
Thad nodded, and Sky grinned, “What the fuck is the tree for?”
“I wasn’t sure what to get you,” Tref half apologized, as he shoved a hastily wrapped box into Baldr’s hands. The wrapping paper had clearly once been a Midgardian take out bag, but the top was decorated with a gorgeous sprig of holly that Baldr thought looked quite pretty against the brown backdrop.
He shook his head, “I didn’t get you anything, Tref,” he said, only slightly anguished, but the warrior only shrugged his broad shoulders, eyes dancing in laughter, “Its not really worth a reciprocal present, honestly, just something I thought of and saved for the holidays.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Baldr said, as he slid his thumb under the poorly adhered tape, and ripped the present open, sliding the holly into the breast pocket of the flannel shirt he’d stolen from Peter’s drawers that morning.
He lifted the lid of the box inside, and immediately felt tears well up in his eyes.
Inside the box was a framed picture of he and Peter, Peter looking at him as Baldr laughed at something out of frame. Peter’s smile took over his whole face, dimples in full relief, and he looked at Baldr with a breathtaking amount of love.
“Tref,” Baldr gasped out, “How did you? Wait - “ he looked at the picture again, and realized it wasn’t a picture, but a relief made entirely of light, “How did you make this?”
Tref shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “I asked the bifrost to help. You always said it was more sentient than we thought, and when I asked it threw this into the air. I asked if it could put that in a picture and when I found some parchment, it drew this itself.”
As he spoke, the bifrost light that flooded Asgard constantly, convalesced around Trefnir fully, haloing him entirely in a warm orange and pink glow - Baldr’s favorite colors. He smiled, and nodded running a finger along Peter’s face in the portrait, “It’s perfect Tref,” he said, before looking up at the rainbow bridge above them to speak to the Bifrost as well, “Thank you.”
Tref nodded, “I love you,” he said simply, “I always will. But he loves you better than I ever did, and Vidar and I are better matched. I wanted to give you something that showed that.”
Baldr nodded, understanding completely, “I know,” he replied simply, reaching out to hold Tref’s hand in his, pressing the picture to his heart, “I love you too.”
It was such a simple thing to say, such a simple truth, and Baldr felt no shame in reciprocating it. He and Peter were perfectly matched, but he and Tref would always have something special, something different.
“Merry Yule, my friend,” he said.
“Merry Yule,” Tref responded, brushing his lips to Baldr’s knuckles.
“Surprise! I’m your Christmas present.” Luca/Bucky
When he lived as the Winter Soldier, he had spent every waking moment controlled. For eighty years, every second he walked among the rest of the population had him shadowed by no less than five handlers - one to control, one to enforce, and three to attempt a shut down if he failed to comply. Attempt.
That constant supervision within his perpetual panopticon meant that the Winter Soldier had never had time to engage in anything other than violence - no random acts of kindness, no small smiles in an open air marketplace, no kind touches, and absolutely no connections deeper than the one he shared with those who woke him from his waking dreams.
And what dreams they were. As he slept, mind free to wander where it willed, he remembered all the touches the man he’d been before had taken for granted. He remembered fingertips sliding along his shoulders, lipsticked stained kisses stolen in breathy moments, and hands fumbling at belt buckles and his heart beating faster than it ever did when he fumbled with skirts. They were only half memories, all he had of who he was, someone whose name he could almost remember if he concentrated through the pain that remembering triggered through his synapses.
It had taken him longer than he liked to admit to get used to normal touches - long after he’d said they were fine, he was still flinching at T’Challa’s clap on his back or at Shuri’s hand sliding into his to lead him somewhere new. Touch had, for so long, been forbidden, he had to learn all over again what it felt like to have someone touch him simply because they wanted to, not because they intended to harm him.
