#adding muses that i'm sure i'll be writing more of rather than just muses sitting there

[totally-not-deacon]

WIP Wednesday Is Here Again!

Tagged by the awesome af @kookaburra1701! You know the drill - I think I'll tag @just-another-wasteland-merc, @dalishthunder, aaaand @bokatan this round.

So I think I've narrowed down a title to just a few now, thank GOD. Had a hard time picking, especially since I'm writing so out of order lol. Almost couldn't remember what I shared already. But here, have some dialogue leading up to Kynesgrove:

“I’m not sure how I feel about this Delphine person.” mused Xelzaz, feet aching from the walk to Kynesgrove. The red flags were obvious – the trick was seeing exactly where they pointed. “Just what does she want with you?” “Your guess is as good as mine.” Out in the sulfur pools the breeze was faint and sun warm, the closest thing to good weather she’d seen in this frozen wasteland. Marasa stretched, hands to the sky. “Though if we’re hunting dragons, couldn’t ask for a nicer day.” “It is true. If we did not have plans, I would suggest we take some time to enjoy the waters.” Inigo gazed longingly at a particularly appealing steaming hot pool. “It does smell a bit off, though.” added Lucien, but he had to admit the chance to get off his aching feet did seem rather nice. Nebarra seemed to be the only one not remotely impressed with his surroundings. His boot scuffed the ground as he kicked a rock further down their path. “What I want to know is why we’re even humoring this woman to begin with. We have the horn. Surely the Greybeards would know more about dragons than some… innkeeper who learned to swing a sword at some point.” He had a point, she supposed, but Marasa was going to satisfy her curiosity either way. How would just an innkeeper not only survive that barrow, but also know how to reset all the traps while still leaving plenty of draugr to shamble about? Something really didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t help but think this might be their biggest chance to get more information. “I just think it’s smart to explore our options.” She shrugged. “Besides, if she tries anything it’s five-to-one – I think we’ll be fine.” “Four-to-one.” Nebarra corrected her. “Really?” sighed Lucien. It should probably bother him more how accustomed he’d gotten to the surly elf over the weeks. Who knew – maybe he was just going mad at this point.

[wayward-sword]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎  𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙  𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙  𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓  𝘊𝘈𝘕  𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠  𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌  𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎  𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙  𝘈  𝘓𝘖𝘛  𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙.

NAME :  Kinkoz Sagan

PRONOUNS :  He/Him

PREFERENCE  OF  COMMUNICATION :  If you have me added on Discord, you can just shoot me a message there and I will attempt to be timely with responses. Otherwise, drop me a DM on here since I keep them open just in case.

NAME  OF  MUSE(S) : Zechariah, Aurora (both small doot and older doot), Traveler, Dunstan (not totally putting him last since I really only play him on request)

EXPERIENCE  /  HOW  LONG  (  MONTHS  /  YEARS? ) :  Pretty sure I started roleplaying at the age of 10 on a Zelda fansite's Java-coded chatroom built to mimic IRC, eventually moved onto AOL chatrooms, then AIM one-on-ones and chatrooms, then Yahoo Messenger one-on-ones until some weird parasocial drama made me abandon RP at the age of 15-16 until 2011 (age 20) or so when I got convinced to get back into it by a former friend by making a Tumblr. Got ghosted at every turn for a couple of months straight before giving up. Got convinced to come back a year or less later in 2012 and I've been here ever since.

BEST  EXPERIENCE : Honestly, those who have stuck with me the longest. Shay and eventually even Zero have been lights in the darkness for me and make me glad I've stuck it out this long, Scythe (despite no longer being on Tumblr) is someone I thought I got off on the wrong foot with when we first started interacting a while back and now he's one of my best buds even if we don't RP, I remain grateful Faty still puts up with me and is willing to engage with me, and Eli surprises me that I'm still able to find diamonds in the rough that is Tumblr.

RP  PET  PEEVES  /  DEALBREAKERS : Couple of things I think I've developed over time that have become definite dealbreakers to me: For starters is when someone is clearly more interested in talking about their muses rather than actually... Writing their muses. It's fine to have your headcanons, it's fine to have your wishlists, it's fine to want to develop your character and come up with new ideas for them, but when you sit there and parade around your character as being this, that, and the other, and "Oh, when will people do (x) with my character??" ESPECIALLY and PARTICULARLY when you have someone who is actively trying to give you everything you're asking for and then some? I'm sorry, but there's no other reasonable way to interpret that other than a lack of interest. Like, you're free to explore your options, certainly, but at least TRY to give what you're getting back. Nothing's more disheartening than investing so much enthusiasm and effort into developing something only to end up constantly sidelined and disregarded. I'll admit I'm thinking of one very specific, recent example as I speak on this since that case was particularly egregious in that department, but it is something I've run into numerous times even on here as well to varying degrees.

Secondly, and as a general rule, I don't like it when someone is too pushy with a ship when your characters aren't exactly compatible. Now keep in mind this is coming from me who, even though I extol the virtues of discernment and discretion when it comes to shipping myself, I just as easily fall into shipping at the same rate if I feel like there's some potential there or you can make me see that potential. But when the spark just isn't there and we haven't remotely established anything at all, and you're constantly throwing your character at mine to hang off of mine and basically "strongarm" affection out of a muse who's going to try to be lenient about it at first, but eventually ends up repeatedly putting their foot down with the shenanigans only for it to keep happening? That's not "cute" or endearing and you're doing the polar opposite of "wearing them down". "No means no" is applicable to more than just one scenario. Again, a very specific, other recent example comes to mind as I write this, but it's also something I've run into numerous times in general as well.

MUSE  PREFERENCES  FLUFF,   ANGST  OR  SMUT : I like it all, although I have significantly less confidence in my smut and I'm really only keeping that material contained to private places with highly specific individuals at this point instead of really playing it out on here, which is how I think I'll continue to handle that matter from now on.

PLOTS  OR  MEMES :  Yes. I've always been more of an improvisational writer so memes have been more my speed when it comes to icebreakers and character development, but I'm trying to open myself up more to plotting and applying that "improv" style to that, so please feel free to hit me up if you have anything in mind and we can work on fleshing it out. Just be aware that I might sometimes be the type to give short answers if I'm totally on board with something and I can't really see any further input to give of my own. That's not because I'm not interested. It's because my interest has shifted more towards "Alright, let's start writing this out!" and not at all "Yeah cool whatever".

LONG  OR  SHORT  REPLIES :  I do all styles. Short replies, long replies. I try to give what I get within reason.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : Whenever. I will get to anything when I have the appropriate time (which is most of the time) and the drive to write (which has been a bit higher lately, hence why I've been staying on top of things).

ARE  YOU  LIKE  YOUR  MUSE(S) :  I mean, in some ways, I put a little of myself into everything I write, so yes and no. But at the end of the day, I am not my characters and my characters are not 1:1 representations of myself.

tagged by: @sentofight (Thanks Faty.)

tagging: @lacedmagic (Just because), @charlotte-liddel, @dancingdevildemon, @zvri (Bing bong I obligate you for activity Wami lol), and in general if you see this, feel free to take it.

[parentsgalore-blog]

Eight new muses added in place of eight other muses. Removing: Caleb Calhoun, Norma Bates, Ben Parker, May Parker, Laurie Strode/Cynthia Meyers, Lena Adams/Foster, Stef Foster, and Salem Saberhagen Adding: Rosalind Walker, Dorcas Weird, Agatha Weird, Susie Putnam, Luke Chalfant, Archie Andrews, Jake Pinkman, and Bobby Munson.

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 10:

кιм נυиgωσσ

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @silent-potato @whathamelon @unknown5tar @ajhdr @mrcarbonatedmilk @curieouscapt

warnings: unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), y/n is kinda odd but in a good way, thigh riding (? Sort of.

“Please, Yuta. I need you.” You pleaded, falling onto your knees as you held onto his hand.

“Stop, people are watching.” He pulled you up, slightly vowing to the students staring at the little scene. “I’ve already told you I’m too busy with my own projects.”

“Yuta.” You whined, feeling like you were running out of options.

“I have a couple friends that might be willing to help you, but I can’t promise anything.”

As expected, all of them rejected you. Everyone was too caught up with their own work to care about yours. But one magnificent day, you found your muse. You met him at the cafeteria, he was simply eating pizza, yet he looked like a model.

He pretended not to acknowledge your piercing gaze, but as you started walking to his table he couldn't help but blush, playing anxiously with the pages of his textbook. Why was the goddess of the art department walking towards him?

“Hi, I'm y/n.” You casually sat in front of him, extending your hand towards him as if this wasn't the first time you'd seen him.

“I’m Jungwoo.” He was literally the epitome of cuteness, his pretty cheeks tinted pink and his brown locks casting shadows over his forehead.

“What’s your major?” You rested your chin over your palms, eyeing the book on the table.

“Mechanical engineering.” He surely didn't look like an engineer, but that sort of made him even more attractive.

“That's cool. So listen- wait, before that, can I grab a French fry? I'm starving.” He nodded, his eyebrows knitted together. “Thank you.”

You chewed on the savory fry, moaning at the flavor.

“So, what were you saying?”

“Oh, right!” You cleared your throat. “So for my final project, I have to paint a human portrait, but it turns out, none of my shitty friends wants to help me.” He couldn't help the small laugh escaping his lips. “Unbelievable, right? So I had no other choice but to hunt down the perfect muse by myself. I was about to give up just when I saw you, sitting here all by yourself like some mysterious rom-com guy.”

“Do you want me to be your muse?”

“Well since you're offering, I'd be more than happy to paint you.” He was about to object, but you resumed your nonstop chatting. “Of course, I’d pay for your time, not too much though, my part-time job doesn't pay that well.”

And that's pretty much how he ended up meeting you every Tuesday, sitting for two hours straight while you painted his gorgeous face. The mood was always cheerful with you around, always making small talk and provoking some smiles from him. He got to know you better during the month you spent together. Jungwoo realized you were the most authentic person he'd ever met, maybe that's why everyone on campus was so enamored by you. On the other hand, he was nothing like the shy boy you first met at the cafeteria. He was so bright, his laugh so pretty that it made you want to hear it every day.

“This is our last session.” You announced as soon as your canvas was fixed in place. “Time goes by so quickly, don't you think?”

“Yeah, sure.” You noticed the saddened expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, woo?” He loved the nickname you decided to give him on your first session, it made him feel closer to you.

“It’s just a pity that we won't get to see each other as often anymore.”

“Who says we won't?” You started moving the paintbrush over the canvas, adding the final details to your portrait.

“You still wanna hang out with me?”

“Of course I do! You're finally opening up to me, I won't risk losing the progress we've made.” His heart felt like it’d escape his chest any minute.

“I thought you were just using me for your project.” You gasped, approaching his seating place with the paintbrush still between your fingers.

“How dare you, Kim Jungwoo?” There was a dramatic pause before you painted the tip of his nose.

“You didn't.” You wiggled your eyebrows, running away from him as he stood up. “Get back here!”

“Stop!” You threatened him with your brush, back pressed against the wall. “I won't hesitate to paint you again.”

“Scary.” His chest was touching yours, faces barely centimeters away.

“Where’s the shy Jungwoo I met?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” His knee positioned between your legs, pushing against your core. “What is it with that face?”

“Have you been deceiving me from the beginning?” You tiptoed, trying to hold back the small whine threatening to fall from your lips.

“No.” He raised his knee, this time, the imminent whine managing to get past your mouth. “I really was shy around you, but you're so easy to be with. I feel like I can be myself when I'm with you.”

“By yourself, you mean your horny self?” He started moving his limb back and forth, making sure to apply pressure on the right spot.

“I wasn't planning to do this, I didn't even know you wanted to see me after your project was done.” His finger pads danced over your neck, causing goosebumps over the sensitive skin.

“Well, then, are you gonna kiss me or should I take The first step?” He giggled before attaching his mouth to yours, a variety of new sensations growing at the bottom of your stomach. “God, I wish my project would've been related to nude portraits.”

“I would've definitely called the cops if you had asked me to be your nude model.”

“Mean.” Your face inched closer to his lips once again, slightly biting into his skin.

“Are you alright with this?” He lightened up the pressure on your heat, making sure you were both on the same page.

“Yes. But I don't know about making love in a classroom, though.”

“Making love?”

“I don't like the way ‘fucking’ sounds.” He chuckled. “Would you rather have me calling it sexual intercourse?”

“Stop talking before my dick gets soft.”

He lifted you with ease, sitting on the stool you usually used with you on his lap. His hands rubbed the sides of your thighs affectionately, slowly lifting the fabric of your purple dress to reveal your panties. He wasted no time on moving them to the side, quickly using his digits to make sure you were wet enough.

You helped him undo his jeans, clumsy hands struggling to get the zipper down.

“Allow me.”

“Be gentle, alright?” You placed your hands behind his head, toying with his brown locks as he aligned himself with you. He nodded. “I need verbal confirmation, woo.”

“I promise to be gentle, y/n.” You felt his tip prodding at your small hole, bracing yourself for the imminent pain. “Look at me.”

He started sliding inside you, your fingers accidentally tugging his hair. He didn't complain, though, too immersed in your face to even notice. You glanced at him, noticing how handsome he was from up close. His eyes looked like they carried the stars- no, the whole universe, you'd definitely have to paint them one day.

“Can I move?” You nodded, holding back the smile creeping up your lips as he started thrusting upwards. “Not even in my wildest dreams would I have imagined we'd end up like this.”

“Well, I'm glad you accepted to be my model.” You let out an open-mouthed moan, his dick hitting your G-spot.

“Pill?” You nodded, letting him do all the hard work while you enjoyed yourself. “Pretty.” He kissed your throat, holding your glutes to push himself further into you.

There were no words needed to know you were both incredibly close to release, just a few more thrusts had your pussy pulsating around him, his warm cum coating your walls.

“This is the best love-making session I've ever had.” You let your body fall against his, causing him to lose balance and almost fall down. “Sorry.”

“Well, we can always repeat this. Maybe I can actually be your nude model for your next masterpiece.”

“Who is this guy?” He chuckled, the corner of his eyes picking the image of the recently painted portrait. “Don’t look!”

But he was already admiring the product of your hard work, and it was amazing, to say the least. It was a picture of him smiling, sunlight coming in through the large window panel beside him and directly hitting his face.

“If you don't get an A, I'll write a complaint.”

“I like your way of thinking. I'm getting the feeling that you and I will be a power couple, only if you want that too, of course.”

“Let’s go out for dinner and I'll think about it.”

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | EPILOGUE

💖 story masterlist 💖

This is it. This is the happy ending they deserve. Fluff. Fem!Loki, because we don't get enough of Loki's female form. Some musings about relationships in general, I think. Guys, I'm crying as I'm posting this.

note: I've got two posts of outtakes coming out sometime this week. Snippets that didn't fit in the story but that have the needed vibe, y kno? As well as a new story is coming out soon... Be sure to check out my main masterlist and taglist if you like my writing <3

I want to thank all my readers for this amazing journey. I love all of you, really, like- I haven't figured out how to produce serotonin on my own ever since I hit puberty, and you guys, you are an amazing source for it. I appreciate the time and the patience that it took to read this 120k word thing and I hope you found a little something for yourself in my writing. A comfort, maybe, because everyone deserves to be happy. I love you all 3000.

"You suck," I grumbled in Peter's direction. Luckily, the little shit was out of my immediate eyesight and I couldn't just pelt him with the assorted items that were scattered around me; luckily for him - after enduring hours of non-stop rambling from the spider boy, I was ready to bargain with Stephen for the sorcerer to put a temporary mute ban on Pete. His nervousness was becoming contagious.

"And you swallow," Pietro replied with a snicker as I heard him wrestle with Peter's tie over the pathetic noises of whining and grumbling coming from the younger man.

"I'm lady, ladies don't spit," I rolled my eyes into the skies, catching Loki's appreciative snicker. She - and yes, Loki was in her female form for this event - carefully combed and did my hair, something completely out of this world, all puns intended. I supposed she was feeling generous, because her female form generally made Loki even more moody and unapproachable. But in a hot way. I hope she didn't notice me ogling her like some kind of gallery painting. "You're a goddess, I can't believe you're friends with me," I addressed Loki, watching the careful movements of her slender hands in the mirror.

A small smirk and a dusting of pink over her pale cheeks was what I got, but the silence was so, so loud.

"Stop flirting," Wanda remarked from her spot by the window where she was doing Natasha's make-up with surgical precision. "You already have three boyfriends, leave some for us, Jesus," Her tone was playful.

"Oh my God, like you didn't brainfreeze and run into the fucking wall, forehead-first, when you saw Loki walk in," I scoffed as Loki's blush deepened.

My witchy friend grumbled something rude in Sokovian under her breath but refrained from any more comments, choosing to simp in defiant silence. Well, good for her, because I was about a hundred and five percent sure that Loki was as equally as smitten with her. It's just that neither of them knew how to approach the other. What can I say, idiots in love...

And yes, yes, I can say that because it takes one to know one. My own idiots were somewhere on the upper floors - getting ready in their own rooms, pulling out their brand new suits and ties for the annual Stark gala. It was supposed to be a charity fundraiser but as all of us were quite disillusioned, we knew it was nothing but a pissing contest between people with small PP syndrome. Even Tony himself said so.

Which is why I had assembled all the girls and theys in my room for a mission debrief. My own personal pride wouldn't let me be anything but a star, and to be completely honest, I just wanted to show off my family to the world - even if the delicate parts of our relationship were hidden from the general public, it filled me with immense amount of joy to be surrounded by my very own at their absolute best.

As for Pietro and Peter, they arrived not too long after me, Wanda, Natasha and Loki made camp in the biggest room with the most amount of natural light, surrounded by make-up and other assorted tools. Both boys were bickering but it was obvious that some of the older men had gotten on their nerves, forcing the youngsters seek solace with their peers.

"You know, Vanity Fair better be talking about us for at least a week," I grouched as Wanda helped me into my dress before I returned the favour. "The amount of people I had to actually, physically talk to, to get us these fucking gowns, is frankly disgusting."

"Agreed," Loki admired herself in the mirror, smoothing out invisible creases in her gown. "Although I must say, the dressmakers on Midgard are far more patient and open-minded than on Asgard." Truly, Loki had nearly driven the poor lady crazy. But on the upside, Loki looked like a living doll. Pristine, perfect.

"Our whims are their wages," Natasha piped up with a chuckle.

We stepped out into the main room, taking note of the men scattered on the couches, all of them wearing an almost identical expression of being already done with the formal event - which, I didn't blame them. Having gotten used to the informal, communal-living atmosphere, I wasn't overly keen on being surrounded by random rich douchebags either; as it was unavoidable, I was going to be miserable - but at least I was going to be miserable in style.

Predictably, the menfolk froze and hurried to pelt us with compliments as they surveyed our ensemble - all of our dresses had a distinct vibe despite carrying a sense of individuality to each gown. That was my idea, actually, to present the team as a family - both to satisfy my own need for one and to present a good public image for the press. Call it getting good cookie from the public - in advance.

"Stunning, absolutely beautiful," Tony chastely kissed my cheek, leading my by the arm towards the limo, Stephen and Bruce a pace behind us. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"We are," Bruce corrected him mutely. Stephen's smirk was a mile wide. "It'll be hard to keep my hands to myself for four hours but I'll manage," The scientist added, eyes briefly flashing a fluorescent green.

"There are children here," Peter interjected, nervously waving a hand. I gently elbowed Tony, speaking with my eyes rather than words, that Pete was in dire need of emotional support for his first big public event. With a sigh, the engineer relocated to sit next to the spider boy, both of them talking in hushed tones.

"Now, Bruce," I smiled innocently. "Why would I refuse a dance or five to my favourite lab partner in crime?" I winked at him as giggles erupted all around us. "And I'm sure there's a point somewhere about wizards sweeping princesses off their feet," I kept up the banter in hopes that any remaining tension would evaporate before we arrive to the venue.

I, however, couldn't lose all of it for we were absolutely assaulted by the photographers and press as we arrived to the red carpet; it was only sheer luck that me and Wanda didn't stumble ass over heels out of the limo. That luck's name was Loki: her magic delicately helped us to exit the car with grace despite our large gowns. Mental note to buy Loki all the chocolate: add to priority list.

It went about as good as it could. Peter was introduced as a trainee - and nearly had an aneurysm when Tony none-too-kindly corrected the host, calling Peter his protégée and successor. As for little old me? Rising star of biochemical engineering. No titles, no direct titles, but it was heavily implied we were involved.

I could fell the old, white rich men leering at me despite the layers of silk and tulle. Nobody was commenting on my champagne intake so I downed one after the other until I had a comfortable buzz going on. I could absolutely see why female scientists became either reclusive or brash.

Bruce's eyes followed me wherever I went. I had encountered some people I vaguely knew from all the socialite events I had to attend with my mother, so it wasn't as if I was a fish out of the water; it's just that every time I strayed further than ten feet from out group, I instantly grew a tail in the form of one of the Avengers.

"Sam, quit being creepy," I exited the ladies room, immediately spying the handsome man just 'casually' hanging out by a potted plant, glued to his smartphone and pretending to be very busy.

He looked up guiltily, shutting down Minesweeper and pocketing the phone. "Not taking any risks this time 'round, Princess," He offered me his arm, leading us back to our table. "Tony would have my head."

I rolled my eyes, falling into the chair next to Stephen. "My tracker implant is still in and the bracelets Natasha loaned me are actually tasers. Bird, chill," My hand snuck under the tablecloth, blindly groping for Stephen's hand. It didn't take much time for him to respond, cradling my smaller palm in his larger one, offering the small comfort with a tiny tilt to his lips. Both my large skirt and the fabric covering the table aided the secrecy; I felt like a middle schooler sneaking a kiss from my first crush behind the bleachers.

Coupled with the bubbles in my champagne, it made me giddy.

"Sam is just being careful, Princess," Stephen rumbled patiently. "This ball will be over soon."

I snorted, "But Stephen, I love balls," Causing the whole table erupt in bashful snickers.

"Yeah, think to me about it," Wanda downed the remnants of her wine glass, eyes wide, looking to the side. The giggling became a full belly-laugh as I didn't have the decency to play coy. I just smirked because, yeah, I did love me some...

The final hour dragged on forever. My feet hurt from the dancing. I had my suspicions that time would pass faster if I actually move around so I didn't waste the chance and cajoled Bruce into several slow dances with me. The energy between us was electric; I hoped my wife eyes and the red crawling up his neck would be attributed to alcohol. We spoke in hushed tones, about nothing in particular, the words being like sticks we threw into our fire.

Tony wasn't around much, way too busy to do much more than stop by our table every now and then. I both envied and admired him; he handled everything with grace and serendipity. Tony was right there next to Thor and Loki - literal royalty - and I had to pinch myself to prevent myself from ogling him, sighing in lovesickness every goddamn minute.

"If you ever stop looking at him like that, I don't think he'll survive," Stephen's tone was cheeky; his eyes were intense as he looked down at me as we danced. My sorcerer was rarely sappy, but when he found the words to describe his feelings... It was serious.

I met his eyes slowly, letting him soak in the very same admiration and awe I felt when I was with him. I felt his shudder, I heard the hitch in his breath. He wasn't jealous, no, he simply observed. I wanted him to see what I saw. "The day that I stop looking at you all like that is the day that I need to get my head screwed on straight." I wasn't a poet but neither was this a romance novel. "As far as I'm concerned, I won the lottery, the grand prize and the fucking life."

He chuckled. "You have way too much faith in us, Princess," Twirling me as to avoid the out of habit embrace.

Did I, though? I was inclined to disagree. Sure, we had our spits and arguments and sometimes Stephen would stick his cold ass feet under my blankets, Bruce's love for curry was a crime against anyone who slept in the same room as he and Tony routinely flirted with everyone and everything that had a pulse. I had days where my mother's temper surfaced.

Sometimes, one of us would inadvertently hog the other person and the remaining two would pout, roll their eyes or pitch a fit.

I just didn't see it as a big deal. All of those parts were normal - what couldn't be said about the rest of our situation. Compared to couples I've seen around, I thought we're happy. My boyfriends seemed to be happy, too, and if they weren't, it usually was pretty obvious.

So - okay, perhaps we definitely should be working on verbalizing our feelings. That would definitely solve if not world hunger, then at least the world war three that occasionally erupted in Tony's penthouse. And the ups and downs - not the steep kind, but ones not too different from waves rolling ashore - was what held us together. Because, well, our world was hectic and fast-paced and sometimes we needed that gentle rocking motion to sway us back to peace.

Tony's arm on my waist pulled me back to reality, steering me towards the balcony. Bruce and Stephen followed, all four of us power-walking through the inebriated crowd.

"Just so you know, I'm on board with whatever crazy shit you're planning," Stephen raised a palm towards a smirking Tony.

His mouth immediately dropped into a pout I could barely resist kissing. "But... I had a whole speech prepared," The engineer retorted indignantly, discreetly attempting to swat the sorcerer on the ass.

"And I'm sure it was amazing, honey," Bruce placated the upset Tony with a laugh, causing the latter to intensify his pout, eyeing us with mirth over the rim of his glasses, his stupid, lovely face more kissable than ever.

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins