fortune cookie meme

[shelliemay]

1. Head over here to get a fortune.

↪ Hit [open a cookie] until you get one/s you like!

2. Post the fortune/s with your character.

↪ Include your character's reaction to it.
↪ Or don't! Follow your heart.

3. Others respond to your character's fortune.
4. ???
5. Profit!

Comments

[moderatelymaladjusted]

That was a yes or no question, though. So, yes or no, El? Do I need to take my clothes off to keep you comfortable?

[suds]

No. But I would like it.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

You do know that I'm wearing a lot of layers, right? Because I can take my hoodie off, no problem.

[suds]

I like to wear layers too. Do you wanna play strip poker?

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Are you serious? Because yes. Yeah, I'll play you and I'll win.

[suds]

I'm serious.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Think you can google and play at the same time?

[A little sleight of hand and he pulls a deck of cards out from a pocket, seemingly out of nowhere and he starts shuffling them. The bridge, the waterfall. Showing off a little before dealing.]

Come at me, Waugh.

[suds]

I like it when you're spunky.

(Eliot claps his hands free of anything else he'd been up to before and nods toward a table.)

It's okay if you just admit you're trying to get me naked.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

You suggested strip-poker. Maybe you're the one trying to get me naked?

[He is, of course, going to cheat as all hell, because that's what he does when it comes to cards. Bottom-dealing, floating cards to the surface when he needs it and just plain using every sleight of hand he knows to keep getting good cards.]

I dealt, so you go first.

[suds]

(He's good at poker, just not when Quentin is around to do his cheating things. But, despite it all, he doesn't really care that much.)

Sure, probably. But we all know how this is going to end.

(He laughs, taking the cards he's dealt and studying them closely. He's not really very good at poker, at all, but it's always fun to play.)

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Yeah? Why'd you suggest playing if you already know you're going to lose? 5 card draw and the cards for the turn are on the table. Trade once because there's only the two of us here.

[He switches two cards and sits up a little straighter, eyebrow cocked.]

Do you need to trade cards or are you good before I turn them over?

[suds]

Maybe I do want to get naked.

(A shrug of his shoulders, looking over the cards in his hands before deciding on not trading anything. Which he makes a face about and laughs. He's doomed anyway, does it matter what his hand is?)

Please, continue. What would you like me to take off first, when I have to?

[moderatelymaladjusted]

[He turns the cards placed down between them first, and his own hand second. Waiting for Eliot to turn his over and lose. There's a smirk on his face as he leans back on his hands and stretches both legs out to cross at the ankles.]

Mmm, winner's choice? If I win and I get to pick, I'd pick your - your pants.

[Because it's not like this is something he thought about. Much. Or planned for. And choosing is hard, when every choice seems equally right. Or wrong. Whatever. Tilting his head, he just waits.]

Maybe you do. I thought you had a haunted cookie to take care of?

[suds]

(He doesn't even hesitate to put his cards down even though it's obvious that he's going to lose. And he does.)

I decided to just keep the ghost cookie. It's like an imaginary friend.

(He leans back in his chair and sighs, ruffling a hand through his hair.)

The pants, really?

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Well. No. Because you'd look really silly wearing shoes, socks and underwear, and no pants? Okay, your shoes, then.

[And he keeps the 'if you're sure', 'if you want's and every other words of doubt behind his teeth, biting down hard on his own lip to keep them inside and settles for looking back down at the cards before gracefully - the only fucking part of his life when he can do anything even remotely gracefully- slides the used cards away and deals again. All cards are face down when he looks back up.]

I mean, you don't have to. If- if you don't want to. It's just a game.

[suds]

But I love games.

(He assures Quentin with his usual grin, watching him with a quite delighted spark behind his eyes. It's not that he feels like he wants to, like, show off his genitals or something, but it is kind of nice to see Quentin in his element and owning it like a boss. Even at the expense of his dignity.

He continues to keep their eye contact as he pushes his chair back a bit and pops each of his shoes off, setting them neatly on the floor under his chair.)

Okay. Next.

(His hands carefully peel his cards off of the table top so Quentin can't get a sneak peek. Even if he knows he'll just cheat no matter what.)

[moderatelymaladjusted]

I don't need to trade cards. You?

[Eliot has ridiculously long feet, elegant ones. With toes curling in his socks, which look nothing like white tube ones Quentin is wearing but like something you might actually want to wear and show off, and less like something you just plonk on your feet to keep them warm.

Biting his lip, he turns over the cards between them and then his own.]

If I win. Your socks. Please?

[suds]

(Eliot's always wearing dress socks in his loafers; he's particularly fond of the black ones with the scalloped edges but sometimes he feels a little wild and chooses ones with an argyle print. It's just so cute to have little grandpa sweaters on your feet.

He carefully surveys his cards and trades some out before nodding, glancing at Quentin with a smile.)

Lay it on me.

(One day, he should really try harder to beat Quentin. Give him a run for his money.)

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Oh, I'm going to lay it on you alright.

[His are higher, straight flush, to Eliot's pair of nines. And he feels a little bad about cheating, since it's Eliot and not someone just out to make him feel bad about losing or bad about losing clothes.

But then again.]

Socks, Waugh. You owe me.

You can deal this time, if you want.

[suds]

(he smiles to himself, studying his cards as if there's a strategy to playing against Quentin.

At this point, it's more like a really slow and drawn out strip tease than it is a game of strip poker but it is kind of fun. And he likes to toy around with Quentin and whatever their relationship is. And it's fun to flirt. And to see Quentin be all confident and in charge.)

I feel like you just want to see my feet.

(He slides his cards closer and then makes a show of removing each sock, which he stuffs into his loafers and waves his hand dismissively.)

I like watching you deal. It gets me all hot and bothered.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Oh yeah? Cards doing it for you, Eliot?

[It's harmless and it's fun and Eliot is being a flirt as always, and it's nice, sometimes, to flirt back, because Eliot is safe? He's something, alright. Always there, always slightly detached in a way that can make Quentin get out of his own head every now and again. In a sarcastic sort of way. He's fairly certain should he ever get a devil on his shoulder, it would look like Eliot and Margo; all smooth, policed and breathlessly intelligent.

He re-shuffles the deck with gusto, showing off like a lot, when he makes it cards do what he wants. Twists and turns his hands and fingers, years of endless practice and boneheaded determination - with a dash of magic. He deals again.]

Maybe I do want to see your feet. Maybe feet does it for me.

[suds]

Kinda.

(He grins over the cards at him, raising one eyebrow. It is super attractive to see Quentin working the cards. Like his hands are dancing; deft and talented. Pretty things. He'd like to maybe put a few of those fingers in his mouth, or maybe somewhere else.

He clears his throat before he can allow his thoughts to wander in that direction, licking his suddenly dry lips.)

If feet does it for you, I'm cool with it. Everyone has their kinks. It's what makes life interesting.

(He takes his cards again and waits until he can trade them, chewing on the inside of his cheek and tapping his bare toes on the floor.)

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Mmm, I don't think I have a kink. Maybe I do and it's going to turn out to be something really stupid, but it's so stupid I haven't even figured it out yet.

Do you need to trade?

[He trades cards for the both of them, flips the open cards on the bed, eyes never leaving Eliot's mouth and the tiny sliver of tongue poking out when he licks his lips.]

Full house. What do you have?

[suds]

I'm sure you have a kink. Everyone does.

(He shrugs and lays down his cards, already moving to begin unbuttoning his best.)

Full house.

(His eyes cut to watch Quentin as he shrugs his vest off, hanging on the back of his chair for safe keeping.)

Are you having fun?

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Don't-!

[What a stupid thing to say and his mouth just goes off on it's own-]

Uhm, I mean... leave the vest on? I win, so I get to choose?

[He claps a hand over his mouth and groans at himself, shaking his head. That only makes his hair fly in to his face and when he looks backup, he can feel that fucking awful flush on his cheeks.]

It's okay. It's a lot more fun than I would have expected from the whole -[vague hand-flailing] spooky cookie conversation.