The "Seven Minutes In Heaven" Meme.

[sockle]

RULES • Leave a comment with your character's name and fandom. • RNG for a number between 1-10 to get your scenario. Mix and match! • Have fun!

SCENARIOS 01) One In A Million | The other person is the only reason you agreed to play this game and now you have them right where you've hoped for all night! Get it, tiger. 02) Not My Type | This is hella awkward. Is it their voice? Attitude? Appearance? You just don't want those lips anywhere near yours. Seven Minutes In Heaven, more like Seven Minutes Of Nope. 03) Seventy Minutes | You're so involved in smooching that neither of you notices the door has been locked and everyone else has left the room! Not until it's too late. 04) Unrequited | Tell them how you feel (so many! emotions!!). Even if you're a little too enthusiastic and your love is unrequited you still have seven minutes of smooching to do, as per game rules. You can't fail! 05) Seconds and Thirds | Some self-proclaimed funny man outside upped the stakes and now a third party has been shoved inside with the two of you. Make the most of it! (Three-way threads ahoy!) 06) Taken | One of you has a significant other and your seven minutes are spent smooching anyway. Oops. 07) Strangers in the Hangers | Hello there, Good Looking. Where has this hottie been all night? Who cares, now they're yours! 08) Long Lost Smooches | You haven't seen them in forever and didn't know they were going to be here tonight. Resolve that UST! 09) Party Pooper | One of those involved is upset because of #PartyShit and now they're trapped in a closet after getting dragged into playing a game they tried to avoid. Cheer them up? With kisses? Good plan. 10) Get A Room | Your seven minutes are up but neither of you wants to stop. Relocate to a spare room!

Comments

2

[soulenoscopy]

The last time Bobby kissed Crowley, he'd done it to find Death and got the side benefit of having his bum legs work again. It was just business, and a pretty unsavory one at that, because deals with demons never ended well. And, hell, it might have seemed all hunky-dory at the time, but in the end, Crowley had been just like any other demon.

So even if there wasn't any deal involved, Bobby wasn't real keen on locking lips with Crowley again. Call it being burned once, call it not being interested in poncy British guys with demons stuck in them, call it whatever you want, but this was one hunter who was more interested in having the demon keep his grubby little hands to himself.

"I have a knife and enough salt to make you wish it could kill you."

Fair warning, Crowley.

[doublecrossroads]

Who thought including Crowley in this game was a good idea? Clearly he was meant to be the fate of whomever lost a bet or the like, but he didn't mind. Tormenting his besties with kisses? Goodness, he supposed he had a little free time for that.

When it was Bobby who was shoved in the closet, he arched an eyebrow and smirked, finishing his glass of scotch and placing it aside on a small end table in the corner of the small space. Out of all of them, he supposed he'd be the one most likely to start it off with a threat of torture.

"If I start screaming, they're only going to assume you've done something... oh so swell to me. Salt and knives? Please, Bobby. Do I look like an amateur?"

[soulenoscopy]

The hell kind of closet had scotch and an end table? Well, one occupied by Crowley, apparently, so it probably shouldn't be all that surprising. Especially not the scotch. And if Crowley didn't watch it, if there was more Bobby would drink it just to spite him.

"You look like you're about to get holy water in the face if you don't shut your yap."

A demon and a grumpy old hunter walk into a closet-- it's like the start of a bad joke. One that possibly ends in bloodshed, gratuitous amounts of salt and only one of them walking back out. Why did he let himself get shoved in here again?

[doublecrossroads]

The scotch he brought, the end table? Well, that was just convenient, wasn't it? He wouldn't mind sharing either, if the grouch would just ask. Manners go a long way, Bobby.

"Have you got some of that as well? Done boasting yet, or are you going to spend much longer try to convince me you're the alpha male in this wee closet? You aren't, by the way. Little spoiler, there. Sorry."

Oh, no. Crowley wasn't walking out. He agreed to this, so there he was going to stay. If anyone backed out, it would be Bobby, or one of the other boys. Give him something to tease them about for days to come.

[soulenoscopy]

Please, Crowley-- Bobby had a small arsenal on him at any given moment. He was a hunter who frequently helped out the Winchester boys; paranoia was the only way he'd kept himself alive for this long. There was no way in Hell that he'd be going around with fewer than three different methods of protecting himself at all times, plus the necessary condiments and accoutrements.

"Look," he said, and the fact that he hadn't thrown salt or holy water in Crowley's smug face should've been enough for a medal, "I ain't here to get into a pissing match with you."

Which implied that he was there for a better reason than drawing the short stick or losing a bet.

"I know you by now, you son of a bitch. What's your angle?"

Because there was no way that Crowley would be here just for shits and giggles. He never did anything if it wouldn't benefit him some way in the long run, especially not something that involved himself or the Winchesters. And the less Crowley looked like he had an agenda, the more suspicious Bobby was of him. So this? The fact like it looked like he was just there to screw with them? It was making his demon radar go all sorts of crazy.

[doublecrossroads]

"You know me." He repeated, a slight look of stunned disbelief spreading over his face. Oh, how mistaken this poor man was if he believed such a thing. He didn't know anything... no, Crowley liked to think he played his cards close to his chest.

"If I had an angle, do you really think I'd tell you?"

And amusingly enough, there really was no actual angle here, but it was hilarious making Bobby believe there was one. Dangerous, perhaps, but amusing. Would he leave? Would he give in? Crowley's eyes watched him carefully, trying to judge his next move. He didn't think Bobby would attack without provocation, but he didn't think it was beyond him to draw out provocation on his own either. Hmm...