#kn1fegut

[lifesver]

@kn1fegut said: johnny’s leaning coolly at the edge of leland’s dorm bed, heel of hands resting there, a pause in his fingering of leland’s personal effects. he’s never considered the prospect of higher education—it was never possible for someone like him, or so he’d been told. he just knows that he sticks out like a sore thumb even here. “yeah, why not? i wanna hear somethin’ i ain’t heard before ..” referring to the collection of books on display that aren’t exclusively for curriculum.

leland raises an eyebrow in his direction. like he's mildly skeptical of johnny's interest. leland's been watching him poke around his room for the last few minutes with some apprehension. self conscious — but not entirely sure what about in particular. maybe just everything? johnny doesn't seem to be teasing him, though. earnest, through all the sharp lines of his face.

❝ okay, um... ❞ leland begins, clears his throat. he scooches himself off the edge of the bed, crouches down to peruse his selection. brows furrow. he settles, cross-legged in front of the low bookshelf. runs a finger across the book spines thoughtfully. peers over his shoulder at johnny with a small smile; ❝ — what kind of stories are you into? ❞ conversational; he didn't want to assume. ❝ my mom had, like, every agatha christie book in our house. so, i read a ton of mysteries growing up. ❞

not entirely waiting for johnny's answer, leland paws at the top of the shelf, sliding a heavy, dogeared paperback from the edge down into his hands. he catches it, and checks where he'd last bookmarked. ❝ … oh — i'm reading this one, right now. a friend of mine recommended it. ❞ leland turns the cover of watership down to face johnny. which was not a mystery. and gives a huff of a laugh, ❝ — i mean. it's about rabbits, but — it's actually pretty dark? ❞ he hands that book off to johnny without looking. and pulls another loose from his shelf, swiping at some dust on the cover. ❝ or, um. frankenstein was pretty interesting? if you're into horror. or... not really horror. it's more like... an ethical discussion, i guess. ❞ — oh god, was he rambling?

[publicabsent]

📐 + 6’2

accepting.

nettie voice: help

[andeatm]

grabs him by the collar!

and lee's attention is grabbed with it. pulled into what? johnny pissed off he wasn't getting the attention? or maybe he's just being a jackass. guess he'll find out. a brief crease between his brows smooths into a deadpanned " y'know, sayin' hey works just fine. in case you forgot. " then looking up from johnny's grip bunching his shirt, hooking a hand around his wrist. not wrenching it free — just holding. squeezing. thumb digging.

[suguruscvnt]

Hey! Are you still thinking of making a knife to throat post? I was just wondering as I was excited for it haha

Oh yes of course baby! I’ll get right on that for you <3

[nuks]

[ ruffle ] sender ruffles receiver's hair @ nicky ✉️ meme prompts: accepting ! ⋆.˚

          It catches him off guard when Johnny's hand raises, and Nicky flinches for only a second, bracing himself for some kind of impact... But when it never comes, and Johnny's simply ruffling his hair, Nicky's blinking, surprise flickering across his features. He'd never admit it, but he's quite touch-starved; he's not used to people wanting to have any kind of positive physical contact with him. He's more used to having the shit beat out of him... He's quick to recover, scowling as he swats Johnny's hand away.

          ❛❛   'Ey, watch the hair, man...   ❜❜     He admonishes, scowling at the other man despite the pink flush that warms his pale cheeks. He huffs, rolling his eyes as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He's flustered, unused to such an affectionate display. His eyes flicker to Johnny curiously, before he's looking away again, lips in a purse.     ❛❛   Just 'cause you're one of my best customers doesn't mean ya can mess with my hair, got it?   ❜❜     He grumbles, always stubborn about his feelings- especially towards Johnny.  @kn1fegut

[nxmeolvides]

❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 

Trust her luck to keep getting worse. Ana had insisted on sticking with the van when it had first stalled to an uncooperative stop, marooning them on one of the long, stretching roads out in Muerto County’s wilderness. Someone needed to stay, after all - she’d just argued against it being one of the boys. Their group had managed to flag down a ride to the closest garage, and she’d urged the rest of them to go: there was no need for all of them to strand themselves out in the heat. 

Yes, it had left her on her own, and there had been an uncomfortable prickle along her back at the thought that maybe her sister had gone missing in the same circumstances. But it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Ana prided herself on being tough enough to handle what life threw at her, on being able to barrel past any problem put in her way. What she hadn’t been betting on was someone else pulling over to the side of the road, and approaching her within the timeframe it took for her friends to get back. “I’m just… trying to fix this thing,” she states, her wariness having her glance at the strange man once, and then twice from the corner of her eye. The shortness of her words doesn’t do much to hide her discomfort and reluctance to speak, and Ana returns her focus to the maze of car parts in front of her; dark hair tucked behind both ears in an attempt to keep it out of the way.

She still doesn’t know where to start. 

Wracking her brain for memories from various manuals and magazines, Ana presses chapstick-coated lips together. She’s all too aware of the man still standing there, hairs on the back of her neck on end in a way that shouldn’t even be his fault. She’s treating a stranger tersely because of letters from her sister - and wouldn’t her mother be disappointed in her for that? If that truck hadn’t come along the road already, this would probably be the man she’d be turning for for help.

If you’re going to tell someone to leave you alone, Ana, at least be polite about it.

Lips press together harder, cracked skin all too obvious from where she’d been picking out of anxiety. Ana inhales, tension causing her shoulders to bunch and bones to press against her skin.

She has to do better.

“We got stranded,” she shares. “I don’t really know why. It just… stopped working.”

Dark eyes focus on the engine before her, reluctance and stubbornness making her linger before chancing another glance up towards him. Silhouetted as he is, she can’t really make out much of his face: the man’s expression not giving her much to go off. But she can’t deny that if he has any help to offer, genuine help, she’d be stupid not to use it.

“I don’t suppose you’re any good with cars?” Ana asks. It’s a selfish appeal to southern hospitality, if he has any, but she can’t help the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes - hope to get the van fixed without having to fork out money for some kind of official repairs. 

“My friends are already getting help, but if I could fix this before they get back… it would make things easier.”

[strnza]

grasp, but it's johnny grasping eliza's chin to give her a bruising kiss.

there's  an  inherent  urgency  to  the  action  that  eliza  forces  herself  to  consciously  withdraw  curiosity  from  delving  into  -  something  rushed,  something  possessive,  something  forced.  something  ...  performative?  revealing?  it's  a  clash  of  chin  and  fingers,  lips  and  teeth,  breath  sucked  in  through  her  nostrils  -  an  embrace  that  she  hardly  has  any  plausible  reaction  to  besides  leaning  in.  cautiously,  willingly  so.

her  hand  finds  his  wrist  after  a  beat,  thumb  gripping  the  pulse  point  beside  the  heel  of  his  hand,  never  quite  forcing  his  grasp  from  her  chin  -  instead,  guiding  their  profiles  apart  so  that  she  may  look  at  him.  (really,  truly  &  earnestly  look  at  him.)  her  lips  still  sting  from  the  initial  impact,  emboldened  by  the  warmth  it  spurs  in  her  chest.  would  that  she  be  a  canvas,  she'd  allow  blue,  violet  &  red  to  bloom  upon  her  lips  any  day.  past  contrary  thought,  she's  more  than  a  lovesick  little  fool  -  brown  eyes  flicker  between  his  lips,  the  crinkles  by  his  eyes  ...  zeroing  in  on  where  the  cruelty  of  humanity  has  wrung  out  his  psyche  for  all  to  see.

"...  all  you  had  t'do  was  ask,"  she  murmurs  into  the  condensed  space  between  them;  half  a  reminder  for  his  conscience,  half  a  coddle  for  his  ego.  equal  measures  of  adoration,  fear  and  a  bleeding  heart  spur  her  onward  to  press  a  gentler,  well-intentioned  kiss  to  his  lips  -  poised  of  her  own  volition.  protecting  herself  from  all  that  she  doesn’t  understand.  “see?”

*      MEME,    still  accepting      /    @kn1fegut    🤍

[lifesver]

        𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦

             THE LOVERS.              the bounty of your heart is abundant. warmth extends from your fingertips, and your smile has the power to light the darkest of rooms. your presence is a comfort– a gift– it is something to be cherished. just beware of stretching yourself too thin; a heart cannot be full if it is constantly emptying itself for the benefit of others. extend that mercy to your own heart, so you may continue to love and let yourself be loved. your chest is not an empty cavity.

NUMBER: 6 UPRIGHT: love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values

tagged by: @deathlace mwah ty <3          

tagging: @fcused @t4mpered @meatriarch @kn1fegut @andeat @publicabsent u if ur feeling it <3

[publicabsent]

@kn1fegut: 6o﹕ sender  claps  a  hand  over  receiver’s  mouth  to  silence  them . / accepting.

there's still a tight echo of her mother's well-manicured grip on her upper arm, ushering her out of the motel room's door. annette wasn't sure what she had done wrong -- not that she ever really knew. maybe it had been something about her job packing, or having forgotten something, or asking about an item her mother had purposefully forgotten, or just about anything. or perhaps it had been nothing at all. but suddenly meredith carli was screaming, tossing things about the tiny room, calling her every name in the book. & annette was crying, pleading. (mama, mama, please ... don't yell, i'm sorry -- don't you ever call me mama, you understand? only children have those. i'm not your mama, i never wanted to be your mama, how dare you speak to me like that --) if there'd been anyone in the neighboring rooms, they likely heard the commotion.

so forcibly was the younger ushered outside, pushed onto her knees, & the door slammed & bolted. the sun at this point had not yet set fully, the dusky orange glow still barely illuminating the surrounding texan land. she climbs to her feet, the slight sting indicating she'd skinned her knees on the fall. annette gives herself a few minutes to calm down, hoping beyond hope her mother had done the same.

knock-knock. "m -- ... moth-ther ... ? i-it. s'g-getting ... dark. i'll -- i'll b-be good, i j-just ..." her voice is quiet, almost pathetic. "i ... i j-just wann-na sl-leep, please." no response. the sky is slowly getting darker, prompting the sparse street lamps to begin turning on. the brunette feels a pit growing in her stomach. no matter what she's done, surely, surely her mother won't make her sleep out here?

more time passes, the sky going from pale purple to the deep blue of night. every so often she's knocked, to no response. she presses her ear to the door, hearing the television drone. fresh tears prick at her eyes, disbelieving. one delicate hand knocks again, more forcefully. "p - please," she all but shouts, "i-it ... it's dark & i - i'm t-tired, please let m-me back in --" a prickly feeling on the back of her neck, like eyes. she turns over her shoulder, but sees nothing. but her rabbit heart speeds up, not wanting to meet the teeth of some coyote or anything like that. (how cute.)

thin hands shake as she jiggles the door handle, misplaced sense of panic rising. she knows where she is isn't safe. not many places are, especially for people built like her. for goodness' sake, she's seen plenty of nature documentaries where animals bigger than her were easily taken down. they'd hardly seen any other people out here, but that meant nothing. briefly, her mind flashes to everett mallory -- hundreds of miles away, & she still looks over her shoulder again. too dark to make anything out clearly, but still her nerves spike. "please -- please let me in, i'm sorry, mom, i --"

footsteps. quiet, like their owner was being careful, but she was being more careful. wide eyes lock onto someone much taller & much stronger than her, her words dying in her mouth. without looking away, she jiggles the knob more furiously, about to scream, when a hand claps over her mouth. the scream still escapes, muffled to little more than a whimper before the mounting panic catches up a little too fast -- & the girl faints, collapsing onto the concrete.

[andeatm]

johnny being johnny. jack of all asses — part of his charm. he gets an eyeroll out of the embrace. and an arm breaking free to half-wrap around his back. then lee gets an explanation with a six-pack smell.

should've figured. hand's always on beer-o-clock. " i'll get over it. —speakin' of inconsiderate, " he adds pointedly, flattening his palm over johnny's shirt. turning his head a little. " did y'save me one? "

he doesn't relent, pulls him in with the opposite arm to anchor lee against himself. johnny then brandishes a dopey grin, twisting that wrist and subsequently the fabric caught up in his fist. it's the latter whose energy he's decided to exude. just some plain old j a c k a s s e r y.

"hey .." he noses into lee's mop of hair, clearly a few too many beers in. "sorry, i guess i'm just inconsiderate."

[suguruscvnt]

Welcome back sexy

Aweh thank you baby <3

[nuks]

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜ [ johnny and nicky .. johnny carving a little thing into nicky's skin? drug usage involved ] ✉️ dialogue prompts: accepting ! ˖*

     ❛❛   Yeah, knives tend t'hurt when they cut ya.   ❜❜     Nicky drawls lazily, his eyelids heavy as he peers through his lashes at the other man. There's a haze in Nicky's eyes, a cloud that blurs the motions of Johnny's hand as it positions the knife. Nicky chuckles, shaking his head as he takes another drag from the blunt pinched between his fingers. He leans his head back, eyes falling shut before his brows knit together when he feels the bite of the blade.     ❛❛   Fuck...   ❜❜     He huffs, arms spread out along the cushions of the couch he's slouched on. He wets his lips. It doesn't hurt as much as he expected, it's a dull throb, a pressure... And Nicky's stomach twists when he realizes it feels weirdly good.      ❛❛   This is so fucked.   ❜❜     He's chuckling, lips quirked up as he hisses as the knife digs a bit deeper. @kn1fegut

[lifesver]

it was strange, feeling like he wasn’t the one out of his element, for once. it was sort of like having the home team advantage, in a way. maybe because with johnny — leland always felt a little like he was going to stumble over himself, in one way or another. out of his depth, lacking experience — or something else stupid like that. then again — he had never considered himself the kind of person that would so willingly go along with someone like johnny, straight out of his comfort-zone.

but now, surrounded by familiarity. his books, his university stuff — johnny looked more like the one out of place. not that leland really thought that. but it was obvious that some part of all this was out of johnny's comfort zone, too.

leland doesn't correct him, anyway. guessing johnny was just trying to play it too-cool to know what leland was talking about. he just hums, amused. ❝ i don’t have many romances. but i guess those stories are popular for a reason, right? ❞ leland grins, tilts his head at johnny. shoots a playful little quirk of his brow in his direction; ❝ what about you? not really into cheesy romances? ❞ it’s a gentle testing of waters, really. most things were, with johnny. new territory and all, for a lot of reasons.

i like seein' it on you, is what johnny says, and leland smiles at that. brows furrow down in impulse-apology; ❝ … uh. sorry, i kind of went off on a tangent on you, huh? some people think this kind of stuff is pretty lame, so... ❞ he was still talking, wasn't he?

leland shrugs, trailing off, letting his gaze fall away with it. ❝ i don't know. i don't think you have to go to school to appreciate a good story. ❞ he offers, simply. then he gets back up with a little stretch, scoots back onto his bed. he parks himself close to johnny again, leaning to peek at what he was reading on the book cover. leland pauses, then lifts his eyes to johnny's; ❝ — i mean... would you ever want to? go to school? ❞ nothing behind his words but a genuine curiosity.

war stories? because what else was there? there were plenty of those around the sawyer family dinner table. he'd never been much of a reader himself, but he'd always been interested in war. its myriad effects on an entire population, a country, the people sent at the politician's behest to represent their cowardly violence. the stories of what man will do to one another to ensure their own survival.

oh, and a few westerns.

but he'd never given fiction a proper chance. and the classics? he couldn't make heads nor tails of the old vernacular often utilized in those damned tomes. it only served to frustrate or bore him into an uneasy stupor. maybe if someone had taken the time to explain to him the benefits. what this or that meant. if only, if only.

"i dunno what a .. aga christian is. my mom mostly has, uhh, gardening books. some romance novels, i think." he scratches at the nape of his neck, the book offered cradled in both of his hands as he rummages through the cobwebbed hall of memory of his mind designated nancy. "the ones with the really cheesy art on the front."

he turns the book watership down over in his hands, searches for the synopsis to read as he mentions frankenstein. he's familiar with the name, word of mouth story, but not much else, and then he's suddenly hyper aware of his own lack of higher education and time enough to devote to his specific interests outside of the obvious. the obvious being what isn't obvious to leland right now, or ever, preferably.

"i never was cut out for college, or any formal education," johnny admits, chuckling weakly, which he supposes isn't really a surprise. his fate was sealed in the family. entombed, even. "but, i like this .." partially a lie. he didn't like to be made to feel stupid or insecure, even if it is self-imposed.

"or, i like seein' it on you." the actual truth. witnessing leland in his element and willingly, even enthusiastically, divulging precious information pertaining to the truth of his character. his story. more non-fiction for johnny to digest.