#the [REDACTED] mention kinda making me sick rn

[8blud]

‘   it’s  fun  when  you’re  only  you,   and  i’m  only  me.     feels  like  i’m  dancing  back  in  a  courtroom  when  i’m  just  sipping  some   ––   tea.     y’know  who’d  love  that?   ’     he  doesn’t  answer  himself.     cuts  the  thought  off  with  an  airy  laugh,   and  a  gaze  cast  down  to  his  cup.     rocked  to  sleep,   wedged  against  her  hip,   and  you  can’t  even  say  her  name.     his  index  nail  catches  on  his  thumb.     a  poking  hangnail,   probably,   begging  to  be  plucked  like  a  single  dandelion  in  the  middle  of  a  bright  red  meadow.     an  un-stolen  moment:   mirror-less  and  silent.     alone   as  you  stare,   again,   back  at  her  relentless  gaze.     a  pair  of  pale  lily  pads  middling  her  moon-curved  eyes.     ‘   that  kinda  dance  sounds  like  yours,   rather  than  mine.     wouldn’t  you  say  you’re  also  immense   –   or  are  you  too  tidy?   ’     the  soft  timbre  of  a  lost  restraint.     born  anew  in  his  light  tease.     he  rolls  the  imagined  crick  in  his  neck.     a  blushed  smile  like  a  drunk  drawn  to  blurred  glass.     (   fogged  memories  and  the  peach  pit  it  spits  into  your  stomach.   )     she  wouldn’t  like  that.     rewind,   rewind.     pause.     beautiful.     play.     to  the  red  sun  that  leaks  upon  a  calm  sea.     jack  snaps  his  fingers,   gestures  between  them.     ‘   like  fresh  laundry  and  its  stinking  basket.     there,   now  i’m  all  out  of  similes.     you  got  the  last  one.   ’

his features lack angles. she hasn't considered the lines before, his mouth is usually moving too fast for her to notice. emerald gaze maps the soft curves that shape the portrait of his face, framed by the forward flop of brown tendrils that always refuse the hold of his overly applied gel — ( it is hard to imagine him with his hair shorn off, so she does not suggest it, as much as it tempts her so, just to see if he'd heed ) it's the eyes that betray him — narrowing them into menacing beady slits don't quite shed the lustre of youth to her.

" i thought you were more eloquent — " it would sound as patronising as it is, if the words aren't accompanied by earnesy blinks. he opens his mouth at an event and hay flies out on a good day.

" would you prefer me to be more like someone else ? " a tilt of the head, and a signifying perk between brows, reflected in the glinting edge of steel. when her gaze finally gives him respite, teeth briefly pin the softness of her lip, cup lifted while she breathes in the aroma. " immensity, there was light in the paint, stillness in between. obscuring the shadow side of itself... most shadows loom large, but not that one. " what she omits his how she'd also found the strokes mildly child-like.

[flatstarcarcosa]

hi i don't think i've ever asked HOW you and lester met so... how did you and lester meet? what were your first thoughts of him? his first thoughts of you? -24hourshipping

OK SO I actually have two settings for how we met that i’m stuck on!! the first one is that i, hire him, actually. or, i’m attempting to. and lester, as he’s wont to do when he gets moody, gets super fucking offended at this. i’m trying to hire him to deal with [REDACTED] and he shows up like “the fuck is your problem?” and is basically like 

and i mention to him that like hey man, i totally would, but i dont know how to do it without getting caught and spending my life in prison, and although the free healthcare and food sounds nice, “other people will have control of the narrative of my life, and that’s all i have left. i’m not willing to give that up.” 

and that gets his attention, because controlling your story is something he understands. controlling his story  is what makes lester lester. he will go after reporters if they tell the story of one of his kills wrong. so he ends up being like, all right i’ll take the job, but you do the work and i make sure you get away with it. 

and somewhere after we’re holed up in a shitty hotel in the virginia backwoods while he waits for things to cool down and he just realizes the last week is the first time he’s been around someone that treats him like a fucking human being, dysfunctional and irredeemable human he may be, and he realizes that uh well, that’s?? kind of not bad. and he asks where i plan to go from here and i say honestly i don’t know because i just blew all my inheritance money hiring him, so aside from ‘im goin’ to that bar over there’ i have no plans. 

and he asks if i’ve ever been to new york, and it’s all history from there. 

THE SECOND ONE i’m playing around with is that he ends up on a job back where I am in SC, and has to lie low a bit since blowing up a huge fucking boat on the lake ended up being a bad idea. he breaks into my old house because he honestly thought it was abandoned it looked so shitty so he can rest and tape up his busted ribs. he sees rufus and he’s like “bro what the fuck the people in this house left their dog behind, and i’m the bad guy?” and doesn’t think anything of it until I come home from work and he realizes “what the fuck people LIVE HERE?” (’do you know your toilet is broke?’ ‘which one?’ ‘hey what the fuck?’)

and i’m completely unbothered by this strange bloody man in my bathroom because like i’m tired! i’m sick! i’m working retail! and i straight up tell him if he’s here to murder and rob me if he can drop the dog off at the no kill shelter, and my complete nonchalance takes him by surprise. 

so i’m like “my mom’s in the hospital rn so if you wanna use either of those two extra furnished bedrooms i super don’t care just don’t eat my food and don’t replace it, there’s not enough as it is” so he’s like, aite. 

and he kinda has a momentTM thinkin’ bout his own poverty and abuse as a kid and quickly squashes feelings, but then it’s the same thing of me treating him like a real person and not a wild animal that gets to him. and eventually i tell him yo my mom’s gettin’ discharged and i can’t just stash you in the attic (its full of bats) so he gets his shit and leaves. 

and then a few days later i’m trying to find out why my truck has broken down again and he strolls up in the yard like “why didn’t you tell me this neighborhood has a motel?” and i’m like 

dude it’s four rooms with sheets that get changed like twice a year, it doesn’t count. but he says it does, and he says he’ll look at my truck for me if i pass him a cigarette, and eventually i introduce him to mom as a ‘friend of a co worker’ and lester spends the rest of the winter and the next summer up in a backwater town in SC while everyone in the supervillain world thinks he died in a boat explosion on the lake surrounding said town, and he finds that hey, 

he’s kinda okay with this right now. 

he’s okay with a break. turns out he needed it. 

and then eventually we end up in NYC. 

@24hourshipping