#analyticallyminded

[b1uedcollar]

you're sweet, when you want to be.

one of ‘em big sniffs.  loud,  obnoxious,  pulling away all the attention  [y’know the ones].  but nuttin’ budges.  just sits in the back of his throat.  SOMETHIN’ ABOUT A COMPLIMENT.  hits him like spoiled milk.  eyes dropped,  deliberate in their focus.  ‘em lungs feelin’ tighter.  restricting.  cody finally hocks back that loogie.  (on his other side,  away from her.  to his credit.)   “ NAW.  S’ALL SALT,  BEB. ”   gives a big ol’lick from his wrist all the way to his elbow.   “ WANNA TASTE? ”

[ouroborosserpent]

• P E R F I D Y •

★。

"The saddest part about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies."

[khozmoh1]

❝ i get it, you're a badass that can look after themselves, ❞ cosmo said with an all too familiar tone of annoyance. how he ended up with friends that were consistently throwing their independence back at him as if that was supposed to do anything, ❝ so are you gonna tell me how i can help or do you wanna keep telling me how much you don't need me? ❞ // @analyticallyminded , he says from a place of love .

[might1est]

❛  SO YOU WANT ME TO TEACH YOU, jemma simmons.  ❜    she could just call her jemma. they’re friends now, or something close to it, there’s really no reason for yelena to distance herself from the other woman any longer, which is exactly what that little “quirk” of hers is all about. distance. keeping others at arms length so there's no risk of getting attached. too late for that, evidently, and besides, it’s objectively funnier this way, particularly when the doctor turns it around on her. she doesn’t know if anyone’s ever done that to her before. yelena’s already unzipping her jacket, shrugging it off to leave it in a pile on the mats that walker would scold her for if he saw it, neat freak that he is. as it is, she merely kicks it aside and assumes a loose stance in front of jemma.   ❛  i can teach you. the others will help.  ❜     like it’s not a question, and really, it won’t be. they’ll do this for jemma. they’re all overly - indulgent with their pet scientist. her head tilts to the side, almost thoughtful, but there’s a smile hiding at the corners of her mouth.    ❛  it’ll be great. like a training montage from an 80s movie.  ❜    / @analyticallyminded !

[cryptidsdad]

i could get used to this.

It almost seemed like a miracle that Robert was awake at such an early hour. (The early hour being before ten in the morning). Well. Awake and aware, at least, instead of lounging around in his living room after moving downstairs from his bedroom. What was more of a miracle, though, was the fact that he had actually gone to bed at a semi-decent hour after spending the afternoon with Jemma.

"Don't get used to it." There was no heat behind those words, though, as a plate was set in front of her. Spanish french toast and some of the fresh fruit that he had gotten from Mat earlier that week. "I don't think that I can keep this up-" Waking up early or making breakfast consistently, "only for a couple of days."

[likesouvenirs]

@analyticallyminded requested: [ HAIR ] in the process of pushing the receiver’s hair back from their face, the sender lets their hand rest against the receiver’s cheek a moment longer.

the cold hand forced the lengthy rant that was barreling out of heath’s mouth to subside. eyes flickered down towards jemma, their height difference making his lip twitch in quiet amusement. heath was careful to inhale a breath - slowly so as to not scare her away.

words were stuck in his throat. the exhaustion that was lingering after the man was catching up and it showed. especially in the eyes and the way he had been quick to react to an issue. heath was known to have more patience than this, usually the one who seized any opportunity of a waiting period in the lab to get some coffee, a walk, anything but stand around.

the fingers tickled his beard, and his eyes fluttered to a close. just briefly.

“maybe you’re right,” heath finally spoke. lifting a hand to wrap his fingers over hers, thumb brushing against her knuckles.

“fresh air would do me some good,” concurring with a statement previously stated hours ago, he looked towards the door. “come with?”

[nocityfolk]

i can sing, i just... choose not to sing.

@analyticallyminded & PROMPTS FROM ELF !!

‘‘oh, c'mon. likely story,’’ jesse replies, a friendly jest.

despite the music blaring through the speakers, the bar is quiet. neon blue lights painting them in its glow, illuminating the gentle curve of jemma's smile (that she was once hesitant to share), & one creeps onto jesse's face in turn. fingers tapping against the empty glass of whiskey he was nursing a good twenty minutes ago, aware of a niggling desire to get another but too caught up in conversation with his friend to bother, he resigns himself to relaxing into the shape of his chair, childhood warnings not to rest his elbows on tables forgotten.

‘‘i used to say the same damn thing. i mean, that was a good fifteen years ago for me, but,’’ jesse admits, fighting the slight drunken slur of his words. playing his father's old guitar in his childhood best friend's basement, murmuring lyrics to a song he had written and thought he'd never gain the courage to let anyone else hear. how fortunate he did, or he wouldn't have all this— wouldn't have met jemma, a good friend & a breath of fresh air away from touring. ‘‘shit, y'know what? we should find a karaoke bar one of these days. don't s'pose you got a go-to song, jems?’’

[b1uedcollar]

you know, when you boil life down, it's funny just how little you need, isn't it? - jemma @ harlan

he’s just bubbling with it.  s’like cracking open a can of sprite,  the giddiness pouring.  THERE HASN’T BEEN A MOVIE NIGHT ‘ROUND THESE PARTS IN AGES.  (not for a lack of trying, anyway.)  so,  of course,  he’s gone all out with the projector.  mountains of homemade blankets and ‘nuff pillows to ward off even the worst case of frostbite.

harlan sets down a big ol’ bowl of blueberries right in front of jemma  (only after plopping three  ..  okay, four into his mouth),  before he burrows in beside her.  shameless is his attempt to hog the popcorn as  A BUG’S LIFE  flickers to a start.  ⸻  temperature’s  just  right.

he hums in agreement,   “ BUGS’N’BERRIES,  WHAT’S NOT TO LOVE? ”   harlan’s smile leaps to meet that gleam n‘em eyes.   “ OH!  PLEASE,  Y’GOTTA FINISH TELLIN’ ME ABOUT THAT CRAWLIE!  THE  ..? ”   bait dangling,  obvious in his enjoyment of talkin’ bugs.

[mvnces]

🌸 @ riley bc give boys flowers

give him a flower <3 (but I lost the meme)

To be completely honest, Riley had no idea when Jemma had enough time to even find a flower. He had taken a couple of steps away from her with Sonny for the dog to sniff around the bushes and melting snow at the side of the trail. It was barely even a full minute of not being beside Jemma — But, when he turned back, there was a tiny flower being offered out to him.

"Aw," the blonde said with a laugh. He reached out to take the flower from Jemma, twirling it as he examined the petals. Maybe trying to discern what kind of flower it was. "He looks a little sad... Where did you even find him?"

[khozmoh1]

"In case it escaped your notice, I care about you!"

❝ you— ❞ for a moment cosmo embodied the concept of wind taken right out of his sails as he stood all but flabbergasted at the biologists outcry. his expression twisted into something sour and confused and he didn't know what to do with his hands so he just gestured wildly. ❝ you care about me? why? when?! ❞

[might1est]

JEMMA SIMMONS sent:   “ i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. ”

PROMPT :  mcu quotes.    /   STATUS :  accepting !   /   @analyticallyminded

❛  IT IS GONNA GET SO MUCH WORSE FOR YOU, hanging with us, if you’re getting squeamish about me hacking into the cctv of a secure government facility. this is tuesday for me.  ❜

fingers flying over keys pause as he turns his head just enough to shoot jemma a grin that hangs crookedly, lazily, on his face, before he returns his attention to his task, pulling up the playback recordings for the feed he’s looking for with ease.   ❛  i mean, unless it’s more of a plausible deniability thing. which would be smart. i have a feeling you’re a smart lady.  ❜    good thing he’s got a solid idea of the window of time their guy was in and out of the building in, or he’d have hours of footage to sift through in the hopes of catching a so much as a glimpse. as it is, he’s watching their would - be thief stroll right in right now.   ❛  damn,  ❜    he mutters, brow furrowing as he frantically switches through the camera feeds in the building, hoping for a clearer look at the guy’s face, before he disappears entirely, but no such luck,   ❛  facial rec is gonna be useless, it’s like he knows every blindspot in the building. hasn’t looked at a single camera.  ❜

it’s the same story when the guy eventually reappears, stolen tech in tow, as they now know, and manages to walk right by security.    ❛  like they can't even see him,  ❜   he mumbles, enhancing the feed as much as he’s able, though he still can’t see more than the guy’s mouth and chin with his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, and head ducked low.   ❛  seriously, how are they not seeing him? how is nobody stopping him? sketchy dude in a sox cap, in the middle of a government building, and no one thinks to check him out?  ❜   there’s no way. another glance at jemma, and he scoots his chair over to make room for her. a clear invitation to jump in. no more plausible deniability now.    ❛  you seein’ anything i’m not here, doc?  ❜

[cryptidsdad]

"Did you know that the kids think I'm a werewolf?" The revelation had thrown him off, sure, but he did not seem as surprised as someone else would be. Maybe a bit incredulous as to why the neighborhood kids would think that. As if the reasons why, and the reasons that the Cahn twins gave, were not obvious to almost everyone. Another thought seemed to hit him as his attention snapped back toward Jemma. "They said something about me being a hobo, too." / @analyticallyminded ; sc. (2/2)

[likesouvenirs]

it was a day of disasters. one after another, after another.

first, his alarm didn’t go off ( …or he snoozed and had no recollection of it ). then, breakfast was burned as he was stuck in a daydream of lying on a beach back home. after that, the man felt in his bones that this was just going to be that kind of day.

//

leaning his hip against the counter, illuminated by cool overhead lights, heath was in a trance. the sounds of an alarm was distant — a warning to stay where he was until the lights and beeps ceased.

heath was waiting for a blood splatter on a ceramic square to do something. anything. with the combination of impatience with this slow moving test, and the irritation from the incessant alarm, heath couldn’t help but drop his head in near defeat.

breathe in. breathe out. another voice appeared in his head and spoke.

‘ hey, look at me, it’s not that bad. ‘ that wasn’t in his head.

a twitch of a small grin threatened to break his solemn demeanor as his nose confirmed that it was @analyticallyminded who spoke, smelling distinctly like vanilla and berries.

“oh no, a lockdown is totally the most normal thing i’ve been through,” sarcasm dripped. shoulders lifted into a shrug as he stood up straight and away from the counter, his lower back making a cracking noise. swallowing, eyes bounced between the stationary blood and jemma next to him. she wasn’t wrong. they were safe, they were able to continue with their day for the most part — this was just something they had to ride out.

exhaling a breath from his chest, heath turned to face her. “whatever would i do without you, jemma simmons?”

[mvncesa]

"hold still..." @ illya

"I am." He thought he was, at least.

The shaking of his palm was familiar enough. Maybe the pain, the small injuries from a mission going sideways, was enough to numb him. That was the only explanation for why he had not brushed Jemma off when she had herded him into sitting down and allowing her to look him over. Bruised knuckles held in soft grip as eyes gazed, unseeing, just over the brunette's shoulder.

"Ya vse yeshche."

[dirtfacedgospel]

kissing your lover after believing you’d lost them . @ carter // @analyticallyminded // kiss and tell prompts.

in all the years they’ve spent on the island, carter’s never once been cold.  a steady climate was, he’d half joked plenty of times, one of the benefits of living in the middle of the south pacific on an island with it’s own pressure system. whatever this storm is, its different, and the rain it drives is cold enough to leave his stiff fingers stubbornly uncooperative as he tries to open the door to the surge shelter monarch had hastily constructed when they’d realized whatever this was wasn’t stopping.

he’s late, he knows, he promised he’d be back almost a full day ago, desperate to convince the last scattered iwi to come with him, but the quickly changing landscape of skull island had caught him off guard and that, combined with the erratic behavior of the panicking wildlife, had stalled his return significantly. which is why it doesn’t surprise him as much as it could that he barely gets the door open before jemma hits his chest with all the force of kong himself, blisteringly warm against his chilled skin.

what does surprise him, though, is the kiss she drags him into, and the deep fear he feels in it. his arms wrap around her without a thought to their audience or the way his soaked clothes bleed into her dry ones, and he only pulls away when his lungs ache for air, the cold effectively chased from his skin as he presses his forehead to hers.  “ sorry i’m late. ”

[cryptidsdad]

Robert should have known better than to toss the comment out there like it was something casual. The reaction should have been expected, too, especially since Jemma was not used to his own habits and mannerisms. (Or maybe someone should be concerned about some of his behaviors).

He found himself drawing back, ever so slightly, in surprise of the concern. "I'm okay," Robert tried to assure her. "It's just a bad cut. I'll handle it."

"give me a second to patch this up." — @cryptidsdad prompts for patching up wounds // accepting.

concern flashes across her face. there's no lingering in the doorway, no waiting for him to finish. jemma crosses the room immediately, eyebrows knit in worry. her dark eyes flit over him, assessing and cataloguing any visible injuries.

"are you alright?" bit of a stupid question, if she takes a moment to think about it. if he was alright, he wouldn't be patching himself up. "what happened?"