Tumgik
#emberfrost
synesthete-sylke · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Flower Ranchers (hell yeah)
+some bonus snowbugs/emberfrost and itty bitty shrinkydink flower ranchers :b (dime for scale. i didn't mean to make them that tiny pfff)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
651 notes · View notes
petalsiren · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
smiles, grins, have the chapter 61 kisses :DD
once again,,, trust life is written by the fantastic and wonderful @chaiandsage
511 notes · View notes
xmaruu11 · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Something silly
743 notes · View notes
isaiahs-cemetery · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
woah! snowbugs!
178 notes · View notes
bellia-25 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Just a little scene from a fic with a little bit of a alternate version.
177 notes · View notes
wren-kitchens · 6 months
Text
I saw scott breaking up scar and jimmy and ran with the idea
anyway, jealous scott and jealous tango ‘pretending’ to date in the hopes that it’ll make jimmy jealous too (spoiler, it doesn’t)
“I still don’t understand how you could date jimmy and not know your own love language.”
scott is leant against a cherry tree, tango’s head in his lap, gently braiding his hair. it’s honestly quite nice—the heat that radiates off tango at all times seems to also radiate off his hair, warming scott’s frozen fingers from hours of sanding down fences. he honestly regrets how much wood he used—not only in containing livestock, but in and around his build too. sanding is an absolute nightmare—usually he wouldn’t care for a few splinters, but considering they no longer heal, scott doesn’t really want to risk it.
one benefit of this pretend relationship is that the autumn air seems to have no affect on him anymore, what with the blazeborn heat scott seems to have absorbed. scott wonders if, when tango pulls a muscle, he can just use his hands as heat packs. something twists in his gut as his mind follows that thought with the idea of tango helping jimmy with his heat-pack hands.
(oddly enough, scott is more upset at the idea of tango’s heat being given to someone else, and not that jimmy was being helped by another. he decides not to think about it too much.)
tango scoffs, slightly defensive. “well, it’s-“
“wait, isn’t your island called love island?” scott grins, enjoying the look on tango’s face a little more than he expected to. his signature pouty frown. 
“I never said I was good at this!” tango huffs. “in fact, I definitely mentioned that I was very bad at this several times. so, y’know- that’s your fault.”
“well, get better.” scott flicks tango’s forehead, laughing as he protests. “if you don’t know, then i’ll have to ask jimmy. he’ll have figured it out.”
“that could be a good idea actually.” tango says, clearly giving up on the pout. scott has to admit, he’s a little disappointed; it was cute. and funny- mostly funny.
“what do you mean?”
“like- you could play it off as trying to figure out how to be a better partner, y’know?” tango says, and scott hums in understanding.
“that’s a good plan.” scott says. “you know, it’s lucky you’re smart, because i have to be the pretty one in this relationship.”
tango snorts, and his hair catches on fire for a split second. scott expects it to hurt, but the sensation is akin to stepping into a hot bath. huh. “is that a compliment?”
“it can be whatever you want it to be, sweetheart.” scott grins.
190 notes · View notes
scribbling-dragon · 4 months
Note
45 and flower husbands (or maybe emberfrost/snowbugs :eyes:) for the ask game!
breath from death
summary:
“Oh, love…” the sheer agony in Scott’s voice is enough to make Tango crack his eyes open, watery from his subsequent coughing fits, tears continuing to bead up as he tries to bring Scott’s shape into focus. When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him.
(ao3 link)
(2,473 words)
hdjsk this was meant to be more angsty than it actually was,, i just made tango into a bit of a loser tbh. but! hope you enjoy the snowbugs (i can't lie the only reason i wrote them is bc i loved the name hdsjhsjk). did i see scott gift tango a heart and go a little silly? yes. yes i did
also! if you liked this and want to send in another request the list of prompts is here! i've got a lotta free time at the moment, so i'll definitely be writing stuff a lot more than i have been recently
“Ooh, Skizz really wasn’t lying, hm?”
Tango glances up at the voice, not even bothering to lean away from the bush he’s made himself a comfy spot against. Or as comfy as he can be when every part of him is in burning pain and agony. But the slight slouch he’s found himself in puts the least amount of pressure on his various injuries and maladies, and so is the most comfortable he can be right now.
“Scott,” he croaks out, wincing a little at how terrible his voice really sounds. He’d been spitting smoke earlier, angry with how much energy it was taking to simply haul himself to his feet. It’s left him with the inside of his mouth covered in ash, and his throat feeling like it’s been rubbed raw. “Good to see you could make it.”
Skizz is somewhere nearby, but not close enough to interrupt if Scott decided he wanted to put him out of his misery right here and now. He’s somewhat caught between being thankful for such a thing, and angry that he couldn’t go on any further.
He’d just be another footnote at the end of a book, another mention; a small aside, make sure to mention the one that almost dies in the most silent and insignificant ways.
He is well aware of his previous contributions to these games. He goes out with barely a sound, and the world carries on without him, continues to spin round and round, maybe a few choosing to mourn him. Be sad over the misfortune of his death, how easily such a thing could have been prevented.
He doesn’t even realise he’s breathing smoke again until Scott coughs, waving a hand in front of his face to waft the smoke away. Tango snaps his jaw shut almost immediately, muttering a quiet “sorry” when Scott continues to cough.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Rough day?”
“You could say that,” he stretches his back out, wincing as it tugs at the edges of unhealed injuries. A stray branch from within the cherry blossom bush scraping a hot line of agony across his spine. He curls inwards on himself with a hiss of pain, tears beading in his eyes at the sudden sting of all his injuries making their protests known.
The small relief from earlier, afforded to him by other servermates, swayed by Skizz’s plea for a small gift of love, a small act of mercy. A better act of mercy would be to put him out of his misery entirely, he thinks humourlessly.
“Hey, c’mon, you're just making this worse for yourself,” a hand lays over the back of his own hand, slowly encircling it before pulling it away. The movements are done with such delicacy, such gentleness, it’s as though he’s made of an extremely fragile glass. Like he’d break if the hands moved him too fast, that he’d shatter into a thousand pieces.
Maybe he would. He feels about ready to fall apart right now, anyway.
“See,” the person – Scott, it’s still Scott, he’s still here, Tango realises belatedly – breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s much better. Now, where has your teammate gotten off to?”
“He, agh,” he coughs again, a small curl of smoke rolling off his tongue as he hacks, one or both his lungs threatening to make an appearance as he doubles over again, stomach cramping with the force of his coughs. “He went to get some resources, something to better survive the next few hours.”
“He didn’t stay with you?”
“The idiot would have,” he scoffs, laughing slightly. He then has to cough again, appreciating Scott’s gentle stroking over the top of his shoulders. He’s nowhere near as warm as Tango himself is, the fire stoked within his core happily blazing away, despite the disrepair of the rest of his body. “I made him leave. I’m dead either way. My death will be nothing to gasp and cry over, better he’s not around when it does happen.”
“Oh, love…” the sheer agony in Scott’s voice is enough to make Tango crack his eyes open, watery from his subsequent coughing fits, tears continuing to bead up as he tries to bring Scott’s shape into focus.
When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him. His hand is still lying over the top of Tango’s shoulders gently, though no longer stroking to soothe him through a coughing fit.
When Scott had turned up, looking down at him with those gleaming red eyes. Eyes that herald violence, promise it, Tango had willingly accepted his death. Would probably have stretched his arms out and taunted Scott for coming after someone when their guard is so far down that it’s ripped to shreds if even twitching his arms didn’t hurt so badly.
And then he’d just…stood there, crouched in front of him and comforted him as he coughed.
It’s his own fault that his lungs are in such a sorry state, anger over everything about these damn games making his flame burn too hot too quickly. He usually has better control over it, breathes fire for a party trick sometimes, not to clog his lungs with ash. Still, Scott had provided the comfort happily, despite them being on rival teams now, people that should be looking to kill each other. Not make sure that he can breathe and is comfortable and that his ally hasn’t abandoned him.
“Every death is worth shedding at least a tear over,” Scott tells him. His hands have migrated from his shoulders to cradling the back of his neck, now kneeling in front of him instead of crouching. Tango almost wants to tell him that he’ll stain his jeans with grass and mud; they may already be wrecked beyond repair, ripped in ways that aren’t purposeful and stained with old blood, but the thought still crosses his mind. “You’ve built good alliances here, love, there will be several tears shed over your death.”
“And a few oh, poor Tango, what a terrible way to go!’s following behind it,” he snorts without humour, only sparing a moment to be relieved when it doesn’t catapult him into another coughing fit. “The same way it goes every time,” he finishes, slightly bitter. It brings a sour taste to his mouth to think about his previous failures. His previous embarrassments.
He’s jolted from his self-pity party when Scott’s fingers twitch over the nape of his neck, making his efforts to ignore how Scott’s hands are currently resting against the back of his neck null and void. His efforts to ignore how the hands reach far enough round that Scott could easily strangle him. Could simply wrap tight and squeeze the last drops of life from him. Scott would definitely benefit from it, numerous superficial injuries littering his body that he’d probably be relieved to get rid of.
But Scott doesn’t grip to his neck tighter, doesn’t shove him to the ground and crush his windpipe. His hands remain a heavy, almost comforting, weight at the back of his neck. Their faces are close like this, he realises belatedly, the intimacy of such a thing settling over him suddenly and heavily. Like a weighted blanket’s just been chucked on his head. He feels a little unbalanced by such a realisation, even as close to death’s door as he currently is.
It makes an odd feeling wash over him, only increasing as Scott moves his hands, fingers tickling the short furs at the back of his neck. Can feel the way Scott’s thumb brushes over his pulse point – stupid, doesn’t he know that the thumb has a pulse? That you can’t measure someone else’s heartbeat with your thumb, as your own racing heart will interfere?
Scott’s pinky fingers ghost over his jaw as his hands retreat, and tango almost makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat when he thinks Scott’s pulling away from him.
He’s glad he didn’t (really, really glad) when Scott’s hands still again, settling over his jaw, cradling his face gently between his palms.
He really is quite close now, close enough that Tango can take in the smudged state of his make-up, like Scott’s been rubbing his eyes and smearing it around the corners of his eyes. Or that he’s not reapplied it recently and he’s simply been wearing the same make-up for the past few days.
He’d given up on the stupid pink eyeliner and little hearts he’d draw on his own and the others’ faces ages ago, tired of reapplying it every morning, wasting precious time that could be spent doing other things. More important things.
Scott’s make-up still looks good, though, smudged the way it is.
“I’ve always noticed when you died,” Scott tells him. This close, he can see the pink flecks in Scott’s eyes. They almost match the shirt he chose to wear for this go-around, wanting to fit better with the whole vibe they had going on at the Heart Foundation prior to its burning. “Kinda hard not to, when you're checking your comm every few minutes and hoping it’s not one of your allies that’s just died.”
“Oh,” he says, maybe a little dumbly. So sue him! He’s not sure what to say to a man very close to his face, still looking pretty despite his smudged make-up, when he gets told that he always notices him.
Yeah, some snide part of his brain comments, always notices when you make a fool of yourself and die in the most humiliating way possible.
“Oh,” Scott repeats, snickering a little. It makes his shoulders shake, meaning Tango’s face is wobbling a little because Scott’s still holding his face, cradling him carefully like he’s some delicate thing to be treasured.
Man, he’s glad Skizz hasn’t made a reappearance yet. He’s not sure how he’d explain his current everything to him with a straight face. Skizz would probably laugh at him until he cries.
“What else do you want me to say to that!” he protests, a little embarrassed at his slightly lacklustre response. “Thanks, I notice every time you die too – I'm always dead at that point! I can’t notice.”
“No, no,” Scott shakes his head, brushing one of his thumbs over the paper-thin skin beneath his eye. The motion makes him shiver, something weird, but not unfamiliar or unwelcome, curl down and around his spine. He shudders again. “I’m just teasing you, love, promise.” His eyes twinkle with mirth, “Would you believe me if I told you I came here with kind intentions?”
“Not at all,” Tango says, half-joking. “You’ve only been mean to me so far.”
“Aw, I'm hurt!” Scott cries, eyes crinkling as he grins. “I saw Skizz’s, uh, plea for help on your behalf and thought I might as well pop over and give you a little boost.”
“Oh, really?” He perks up at that. A few people have been by already, each giving him a small boost. To think he was in an even worse state as the sun rose that morning is somewhat horrifying to think about. It’s a miracle he even managed to have a coherent conversation with Skizz as their day began. “Well, c’mon then! Don't leave poor ol’ me waiting.”
“Okay, okay,” Scott laughs again, a little quieter. “God, you tell someone you're about to give them something, and it’s all they can think about.”
“All I can think about is how much pain I'm currently in,” Tango jokes.
He realises that the joke didn’t quite land as he intended when Scott’s face doesn’t continue to crease with smile lines, instead dropping into something sadder. “Well,” he says confidently, “I can fix that real quick for you, love.”
And then Scott’s leaning and Tango’s floundering, because, sure, he’s kissed people before. For definite. Kissed people plenty of times, actually! But he never quite knows what to do with his hands, nevermind the fact that he can barely even lift his hands right now.
Scott seems comfortable taking the initiative, giving him a chaste peck on the lips, warm hands continuing to cradle his face gently, before pulling back just as quickly as he’d moved in.
“There,” he says, sounding satisfied. “All better?”
“I – yeah. Thanks,” he manages. He mentally fist pumps when his voice doesn’t wobble and he doesn’t immediately chase after Scott with significantly less achy limbs than a few moments before. “That’s really appreciated, thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Scott says, wiping a little around his bottom lip, clearing away some of the smudged make-up there. “Always glad to help!” He chirps, then stands. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around, hopefully not at the other end of my sword!”
“Hopefully not,” Tango agrees. Really hopefully not because he’ll probably just stand there like an idiot and think about how soft Scott’s lips are, and the way they’d slotted against his own, and-
The clearing of a throat above him has him blinking his eyes open, squinting a little at the figure silhouetted by the sun.
“See you had a little visitor,” Skizz tells him, sounding far too smug for someone that probably only saw Scott walk away. Tango’s sheltered where he sits, so even if Skizz was on his way back while…all that happened, there’s no way he actually saw anything.
“I- what? Oh, Scott, yeah. He gave me a heart.”
“See he gave you a little something else, too.”
What?
“What?” He asks, sitting up slightly, hissing under his breath as his cracked ribs forcefully remind him that they're still cracked. “What d’you mean?”
“You got a little something,” Skizz says, “around here.”
And gestures around his mouth.
Tango wipes at his lip with his thumb, cringing when it comes away stained with make-up. Make-up that everyone has seen Scott wearing recently.
“Oh, wow, haha,” he laughs, not at all amused. “How’d that get there.”
“How indeed,” Skizz says, obviously already knowing, the dick. “Maybe we should ask the whole server, see if they can help us solve this mystery.”
“No!” Tango throws himself upwards as Skizz goes to retrieve his comm, smacking his hands away frantically. “No, no, I'm sure we can figure this out ourselves.”
“Oh, yeah. I'm sure we can.” Skizz says, and walks off. Still grinning.
Tango collapses back down to the ground, indulging his moment of dramatism even as it aggravates a few minor wounds.
Whatever shitty higher being watches over me now, he pleads, please strike me down before he comes back.
The shitty higher being watching over him decidedly does not strike him down, and Skizz comes back to laugh him again, though he brings a make-up wipe with him…maybe Tango can find it in his heart to forgive him. Eventually.
179 notes · View notes
slooopes · 2 months
Text
Inspired by that one fic where Scott does tangos eyeliner
Tumblr media
122 notes · View notes
thedo0zyslider · 7 months
Text
Scott, who is currnetly crammed into a small dirt hole, stares back at the green, cat like eyes blinking back at him in the almost utter darkness. The eyes of the one and only Tango. The one of the Tek variety.
Martyn had told him to hide, for just a little bit, and he hadn’t expected to wind up in the exact same hidey hole that the other last green on the sever had chosen.
It's an awkward thing, when Scott realizes he's crashed his neighbors hiding space. It also leads to a lot of staring into each other's eyes, because there is nowhere else to look. The hole is dark, only being illumated by a single torch light, and it is so small that he can barely see the walls past Tango's form.
Eventually though, after they've been staring long enough to memroize what each other's eyes look like in great detail. Tango lets out a gentle chuckle. "This is soooo bad if someone finds us!" His words are quiet, and his breath just falls short of Scott’s face.
"Yeah, yeah it would be." Scott agrees, a small smile escaping him. He cannot help but notice how close they are, how their bodies are flushed against each other. He can't help but notice how Tango practically has an arm around his lower torso, because bending it any other way would be uncomfortable. Scott notices how he's basically straddling the blaze as well, because a one by two hole will never be big enough for one person, let alone two.
"Soo....whatddya wanna do?" Tango jokes, his tail flicking against Scott's legs. He smiles in return, running a teasing hand over the other's chest.
"What ever you wanna do~" He purrs, leaning downwards. Tango smiles up at him, their foreheads bumping, until the blaze tits his head to the side a bit more, and a shiver of what feels like anticipation runs through Scott's body.
Their lips brush, just barely, before both them pull back. Well, it feels like both of them, but it's mainly Scott who does so. He's not very sure on going through with this is all after he thinks about it, even if he really really wanted to in the moment.
Based on what little he knew or Team T.I.E.S' members and their pasts, he had to wonder if Tango was with one of them. In a way that was more than friendship. He had to wonder if this would be cheating on anybody, because most of their servermates had formed some pretty steady relationships by this point. (Scott knew he was fine, because what him and Martyn were wasn't like that, but it also wasn't just a friendship either. And Martyn had said it was fine if explored other options, and he had agreed in return.)
Tango gives him a curious glance, one that's maybe a little concerned as well, and Scott voices his concerns.
"You're not gonna be...betraying anyone with this are you?" He asked, one of his hands having come down to cup Tango's cheek.
"No," Tango breathed, their faces barely two inches apart now. "Are you..?"
Scott shook his head no, but before he could finally lean in, there was the distinct sound of Grian’s voice above them. Because of course they would he interrupted right during the best moment, of course.
Both men froze in an instant, yet at the same time not moving away from each other, and stayed deathly silent as footsteps sounded above them. It takes a few minutes of Grian yelling at someone a bit further away, who seems to be either Joel or Jimmy, before their avian friend is gone and the world above them is silent once again.
Scott can barely believe it. They were less than ten blocks under the surface, and half of the people chasing them couldn't even think to dig out so much as a shallow hole. What were the odds of that.
"I don't think they're gonna find us for a while....." Tango murmured against his lips a moment later, warm breath ghosting over Scott’s face; his husky voice feeling rather loud in the newfound silence. And that's the moment be decides to hell with it, and promptly connects their lips.
Kissing Tango is warm and lovely and something like Scott’s never done before. It's less hotter and flamey than it looks like it would be in all honesty. At least in one way for now, because there are hands tugging at his hair and they are edging him on a great deal.
He bites Tango's lip when they go back in for seconds, and the blaze whines at that. Scott kisses him harder after that, and the only thing keeping him from destroying the blonde's neck was the fact that Tango had beaten him too it.
Sharp teeth graze over his neck as soon as they disconnect for a second time, teasingly running over his gills. Scott hums in pleasure when Tango finally bites down, and moves to grab ahold of the back of the blazeborn's head and wrap his fingers in soft blonde hair. Scott cranes his neck back after a moment, letting Tango have more access to bite and bruise his skin.
Not long after that there is the sound of blocks breaking, and the two of them fail to notice until there is more light flooding the hole than torchlight could ever provide. Tango looks up, cat like pupils expanding again, and softly moves away from where he was biting Scott’s neck. Much to the latters disappointment.
Thankfully, it is only Martyn, who blinks at them while he's processing what he just walked in on. As his ally does this, Scott scarmbles off Tango, already missing the other's warmth, and practically stumbles out of the entrance Martyn had made.
"We're you two making out down there!?" Martyn exclaims, a tease and laugh on tge edge of his tone. He's pushed out into the sunlight by Tango, who is blushing like Scott had never seen him before. He sees how much of a mess the blaze truly is once they aren't shoved in a whole and has proper lighting, and he's sure he looks worse. Considering what exactly they'd been doing when Martyn found the two of them.
"Did you want in or something?" Scott asks, and giggles when the comment ends in both the blonde's blushing. That's where Martyn decides to call it a day, and that it's time for Tango to go home. No more making out today, not for the two of them anyways.
But before he leaves Tango presses a fleeting kiss to Scott’s red and puffy lips, and murmurs a promise to visit him later. Scott murmurs back that he'll be waiting, and prepares himself to endure all his teammates teases on the way back home.
158 notes · View notes
petalsiren · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
uhhh new snowbugs fic caught me in a chokehold /smile/
i blame @darcfenix
go read it :33 https://archiveofourown.org/works/52860055/chapters/133706560
207 notes · View notes
zzombietango · 2 months
Text
okay but guys.. Someone HAS to draw flower ranchers dancing with each other while sway plays. (It's going to be me you guys!!! ^_<)
35 notes · View notes
xmaruu11 · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
More emberfrost / snowbugs
989 notes · View notes
chaiandsage · 7 months
Note
feel like tango would call scott sunshine or sapphire, just a thought
Those are some very cute petnames! “Sunshine seems more like a name he’d use while he’s speaking to Scott in a lighthearted or jesting manner, but I get the feeling that “Sapphire” would be used more intimately and sparingly. Something he’d whisper to Scott while falling asleep next to him in bed, or a name he’d use to show Scott how precious he was to him. Something like, “Sapphire, what’s wrong?” Comes to mind first for me :)
81 notes · View notes
bellia-25 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Another drawing that kind of spawned from a conversation with @petalsiren over discord
121 notes · View notes
wren-kitchens · 3 months
Text
we’re not bruised; they’re just party tattoos
2716 words CW: alcohol
scott is far too drunk to be making rational decisions. he knows this just as he knows that he probably should have switched from wine to water about an hour ago; as he knows that a game of spin the bottle is a very, very stupid idea right now. however, he knows all these things rationally, and scott has long since decided that he is going to ignore all rational thought and deeply regret everything tomorrow morning, hand in hand with whatever abysmal hangover is going to follow. so rather than acting logical or rational or like someone who wants to survive until the next morning, scott plonks himself down directly next to tango in the circle of his equally drunk friends, sitting close enough that their shoulders brush. it’s new years, okay, they’re allowed to be stupid; resolutions start tomorrow, not tonight.
this was meant to be posted on new year’s day. yeah I gotta stop expecting deadlines to work but hey we can pretend it’s a valentine’s day gift!
if you enjoyed, please reblog!
scott is far too drunk to be making good decisions.
he knows this just as he knows that he probably should have switched from wine to water about an hour ago; as he knows that a game of spin the bottle is a very, very stupid idea right now. however, he knows all these things rationally, and scott has long since decided that he is going to ignore all rational thought and deeply regret everything tomorrow morning, hand in hand with whatever abysmal hangover is going to follow.
so rather than acting logical or rational or like someone who wants to survive until the next morning, scott plonks himself down directly next to tango in the circle of his equally drunk friends, sitting close enough that their shoulders brush. it’s new years, okay, they’re allowed to be stupid; resolutions start tomorrow, not tonight.
the smart people in their group stopped drinking after they got tipsy, and so now they’re all being babysat by an amused pixl, a somewhat concerned xisuma and a deeply smug cleo. scott is fairly certain she only stopped drinking so they’d have a crystal clear memory of the fuckups they will all inevitably cause and so will be reminded of for the rest of their lives. the smart people, however, are the vast minority of the party, and so the world right now is chaos incarnate.
gem and scar have been giggling about the least humorous topics scott has ever heard—which includes the shape of the wine bottle that is positioned in the middle of the circle. grian has been extraordinarily bold for the entire night, and is actually flirting with mumbo, who seems equally enamoured and embarrassed by it all. scar whoops from across the circle each time grian manages to get mumbo to blush. lizzie has been flirting with joel idly, and seems to be entirely unaware of how flustered joel is getting—much to everyone’s amusement.
“are we spinning or what!” pearl yells over the commotion. unfortunately for scott, she is still leaning on his shoulder, and has very literally just yelled into his ear.
“yeah we are!” scott shouts back, and pearl shrieks with laughter, pushing him away. scott cackles and pushes her back.
the next few minutes is a blur of too-loud laughter and squeals through a haze of drunken grins. scott manages to make out joel and jimmy being overly dramatic about the smallest peck of the lips, the entire room screaming as mumbo and grian kiss for much longer than is strictly necessary—and then a very flustered mumbo and grian scurrying out of the room, presumably to finish making out in private—and cleo being eventually dragged in to kiss a grinning lizzie, to the mock-devastation of joel.
scott whoops along with everyone else as the bottle lands on him, watching with anticipation as the bottle spins a full three-sixty. except- it doesn’t spin a full 360, because it instead lands on.. tango.
and this is the second of the abysmal decisions scott makes. because instead of giving tango a brief peck on the lips and playing it off like a joke, scott’s idiotic, drunken brain decides that he may as well put some effort in. after all, if he’s only ever gonna kiss tango once, he wants it to be worth it.
“come on tango!” scott is laughing, watching for any minuscule sign of discomfort or apprehension from tango. there is none.
tango is grinning along, leaning forward into scott’s space. “well, I hope you live up to your reputation.” he winks, and it’s like he’s just set fire to scott’s brain.
scott grabs the collar of tango’s shirt, leaning in until their noses brush. “you’ll have to be the judge of that.”
the first thing scott registers is that tango’s lips are soft. like- really soft. he’d kind of assumed his lips would be almost harsh and rough, because of his netherborne roots, but void, he was mistaken. after this, scott is gonna ask what kind of skincare routine tango has.
except- he doesn’t really get a chance to, because tango nips a little at scott’s lower lip, and suddenly every intelligent thought is wiped from his mind. tango’s teeth, it seems, are just as sharp as they look. well, two can play at that game.
something in scott’s stomach ignites as he runs his own teeth over tango’s lip and hears the half-stifled gasp he elicits. scott suppresses the urge to smile, and instead slides his hand from tango’s cheek into his hair and grips it, relishing the heat that has begun to emanate from tango’s body.
scott is grinning when the whistles and shrieks from the group pulls the two apart, deeply satisfied to see the way tango’s catlike pupils have enlarged. “so? how’d I do?”
it takes tango a second to gather himself, and scott’s grin slips into a smirk. oh, he could get used to this.
“so-so.” tango shrugs, clearly attempting a nonchalant tone, but the way his eyes keep darting back to scott’s lips tells another story.
scott cackles regardless. “well then, I guess i’ll have to practice.”
with a rush of warmth through his chest, scott watches as tango budges closer to skizz and mutters to him, “I volunteer as tribute.”
“i’m not complaining.” scott says just loud enough for tango to hear, if only to watch the way tango’s eyes widen in panic as he realises scott overheard him. he winks teasingly, and turns back to the chaos, where grian and mumbo have just come back.
to his own surprise, scott finds himself zoning out, even as gem and pearl decide that they can’t be bothered to wait for the bottle to choose and instead make out in the middle of the circle. although, scott does make a mental note to make fun of pearl about this at any given opportunity—most likely after she makes fun of him for how intense his and tango’s kiss ended up being.
but- embarrassingly, all he can think of is tango’s lips. because- okay, seriously, tango is a good kisser—which- scott really should have thought about that—and it’d be one thing if scott was just enjoying the kiss, but- it definitely is not. the kiss was not so good that it warrants this level of thinking about it, and scott really doesn’t know why he even decided to actually kiss tango in the first place. like- does he even have any self restraint anymore?
wow, scott can’t believe he actually asked that when the answer is so obvious: no, he really doesn’t.
-—
unfortunately for tango, drinking is not doing one of its best jobs of making him forget everything about himself—more specifically, the kiss. in fact, he seems to be unable to focus on anything but, which is getting increasingly more embarrassing. if you couldn’t already tell, tango was absolutely lying when he said scott didn’t live up to his reputation. rather, he surpassed it by far, which is proving to be extraordinarily inconvenient if tango wants to get through this night without doing something stupid. again.
but of course, stupid is his middle name; literally (he lost a bet, don’t ask), so the plan of ‘don’t make an entire fool out of himself’ is going to be a lot harder to manage than it probably ought to be. especially if scott doesn’t stop looking at him like that.
“you thinking about something or just enjoying the view?” tango calls, foolishly, to scott. they’ve been out on the balcony of whoever’s house this is (he forgot sometime around when he kissed scott) for about ten minutes, intentionally avoiding each other’s eyes. scott, however, has apparently given up on this and has been gazing absentmindedly at tango for at least a minute.
scott gives a crooked grin, and tango so desperately wants to kiss it off his face. “why can’t I do both?”
tango scrambles for something equally witty to say as scott stands and moves over to him, something akin to curiosity in his eyes. “you know, you are unfairly pretty.”
if tango was speechless before, he’s entirely hopeless now. “you- I- I am?”
“wh- I mean come on,” scott brushes a loose hair out of tango’s eyes, tracing his fingers down his jaw. yeah, okay, tango has officially lost his mind. “you’re like a- a painting.”
well, if scott’s allowed to flirt with him, tango isn’t gonna take it lying down.
“there you go again.” tango takes scott’s hand in his own, pressing a delicate kiss to his knuckles. he watches with the utmost fascination as scott’s cheeks turn the faintest shade of red at the action. “i’ve never met anyone so much like a siren as you, scott.”
scott raises an eyebrow, and tango follows the action with his eyes. “a siren, huh?” he says, rubbing a thumb across tango’s hand. “why is that?”
tango gives the ghost of a smirk, watching as scott’s eyes flit to his lips. “you do this- this whole song and dance, you make me swoon, and then you’re gone.” he moves closer. “it’s like chasing wind with you.”
“come on.” scott gives a little breathy laugh, and tango’s mind reels as he realises he’s managed to fluster him. oh man, tango could get used to this. “you can catch me, if you try.”
“i’ve seen this all before.” tango tilts his head ever so slightly. “with jimmy, with pixl, with martyn.” he rests a hand on scott’s waist, heart leaping at the poorly stifled gasp scott gives as he does so. “I don’t know what to think with you.”
“i’ll tell you then,” scott says, and the flirtatious note in his voice is suddenly gone, replaced by an almost devastating honesty. “I have wanted you for a very long time, and i think this party might be the tipping point into insanity for me, because you look- you look like that, and you kissed me, and now you’re flirting back which is something i’ve never been able to handle.”
tango feels his mouth twitch into a grin. “well, i’ll tell you what, it’s amazing to be on the opposite end of all this.” he rubs his thumb against scott’s waist deliberately, smile widening ever so slightly as scott practically pouts at him. “don’t give me that look, I never get to be the flirty one.”
“it- it suits you.” scott says, and he’s breathless, and tango might also be going insane now he comes to think of it. “i’m- y’know, i’m perfectly happy to pretend this was all a series of drunken mistakes if-“
before scott can continue, tango once again lives up to his recently appointed middle name, and kisses him.
scott kisses back almost immediately, and tango finds himself leaning further into him as scott’s hands move to his hair and waist. tango, apparently, did not think this through, because last time his brain was reduced to mush without the insane knowledge that scott likes him back, which he’s still having a hard time processing. so when scott deepens the kiss, tango feels as if he may explode, and when scott nips ever so delicately at his bottom lip, tango melts.
it registers distantly in tango’s puddle of a brain that scott has managed to pin him against the wall as they’ve been kissing, and that at some point, he’s going to need some air. tango bites scott’s lip, relishing in the half stifled groan and shudder he elicits, and allows himself to forget about trivial things like breathing.
after a moment though, tango’s lungs begin to burn and they break apart, panting. tango is grinning, and scott’s bottom lip is bleeding, and tango probably should have remembered about his fangs.
“I would- I would very much appreciate if you didn’t pretend that was a mistake.” tango manages, and scott’s eyes glint.
“I wouldn’t dare.” he practically purrs, his breath hot against tango’s face.
there’s a explosion of noise from inside—loud enough for them to hear at a significant volume even outside. tango smirks at scott. “do you think they’ll miss us if we stay out here a little longer?”
scott’s lips twitch into a grin, leaning in so his nose brushes tango’s. “I think we have enough time for another round before they come looking.”
“let’s not waste it.” tango says, closing the gap.
—-
scott wakes up under an unfamiliar blanket, laying on what he’s fairly certain is not his own bed, where everything seems to smell like tango. he has no idea where he is and he doesn’t remember how he ended up here, which may not be the best sign. when he shifts in order to survey his surroundings, it takes a moment for him to realise that he hasn’t just been smashed in the head with an axe and that this is, in fact, the consequences of the far too much alcohol he had the night before.
he blinks against the faint light of the sun peeking through the cracks in the curtains and finds himself in a bedroom that is unmistakably tango’s. that explains why it smells like him, scott supposes.
before scott can fully take advantage of this (shoving his nose into the duvet for as long as he can get away with), a wonderfully familiar voice interrupts his train of thought.
“y’know, you’re even beautiful when you’re asleep. are you like- magic or something?”
scott sits up with great effort, smiling sleepily as he sees tango with two trays of what looks like cooked breakfast. “hey darling.”
tango blushes, laughing softly. “void, i’m never gonna get used to that.” he slides into bed next to scott, handing him his tray as he does.
“well, get used to it.” scott budges closer, pressing a kiss to tango’s cheek before tucking into his breakfast. “oh, you’re an angel.” he says through a mouthful of eggs.
tango is leaning against him. “did we talk about what we are now and I forgot, or did we just make out?”
scott snorts. “I think the latter.” he admits, gesturing to a distinctly bruise-ish looking mark on tango’s neck with his fork. “I did good work.” he says absentmindedly, laughing as a flustered tango elbows him.
“shut up, you look like you got attacked by a horny vampire.” tango says, and scott cackles. “oh- don’t make fun of me, i made you breakfast.”
“I think you just called yourself a horny vampire, love.” scott grins. “but do you wanna talk about what we are?”
tango shrugs in a way that very clearly means ‘yes but I don’t want to come off as clingy’. wow, scott can read him better than he thought. “I mean, what do you want us to be?”
“I personally want you to be my husband, but we gotta do the middle step before we can get there.” scott says simply, and tango looks like he’s just almost choked on his toast. “see, i’m far more clingy than you could ever be, dear.” he winks.
“I want you to be my partner.” tango says, a little nervous, as if scott was ever gonna say anything other than yes.
“then i’m yours.” scott presses a kiss to the corner of tango’s mouth. “I mean, I was yours the second you started wanting me, but I may as well make it official.” he grins at tango’s bewildered expression. “listen, i’ve loved you for a long time.”
tango gives a flustered little huff, grinning almost shyly. “you’re a fuckin’ siren, I was right about that.”
“i’m just being honest.” scott teases, but he can’t quite stop the blush rising on his cheeks. “besides, i’ve been wanting to say all this for a while now, so i’m not gonna shut up anytime soon.” a smirk slips onto his face. “unless you find a way to make me.”
tango rolls his eyes, but he looks extremely tempted. “it’s too early to make out with you. at least give me time to brush my teeth.”
“i’ll grant you that.” scott smiles, leaning closer to tango in order to press a kiss to his cheek. “but only because I love you.”
tango smiles, looking completely smitten. “I love you too.”
131 notes · View notes
trafficlife · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
"tell me why we can't just forget about all this and move on?"
fake cover for capritarius' fic trust life
81 notes · View notes