#v. main.

[dulcethopes]

"ah, you've found me." / @demurehopes

[uhtr1d]

starter. @fin4n

Three days had passed and little words had been exchanged between the two of them that weren't small talk. It was his fault, he knew that and he was sure it hadn't gone unnoticed by the other men. He'd drunk no more than usual that night but the conversation had taken a turn and now he was unsure if he was reading too much into it - if he was allowing himself to feel something that would end in him being the fool.

The road home to Cookham had been quiet, they'd talked amongst themselves whilst he had ridden up front and allowed himself to get lost in his own head. He was tired, perhaps not from battle this time but from the war that continued to rage on inside his mind. His intention hadn't been to ignore Finan nor had it been to give him the cold shoulder but his mind continued to linger and he couldn't look at him without his head spiralling. What if?

He'd caught himself watching his friend when he wasn't looking, on occasion a smile would form before he caught himself and stopped.

The first night home he'd intend to rest and sleep and he'd opted not to indulge in any ale or entertainment. But instead of sleeping he found himself laying awake again, unable to settle knowing Finan would only be a few doors way once he returned home. He waited and waited a little longer until he heard the familiar noise of them all leaving the tavern. Then he waited a little longer before leaving and making his way to the others room. Uhtred knocked on the door once before he opened the door to step inside, slowly making his way towards the bed. He'd made the assumption he wouldn't be asleep, not yet at least, a hand reaching for the others shoulder to give it a gentle shake. " Finan? "

[xmawful]

When it came to spirit hunting, using their human guise in the human realm was an obvious choice, and what's more, certain individuals were more inclined to share information when they actually felt like they were being believed. However, there was an unfortunate side: most occurrences that humans described ended up being nothing related to spirits.

Luan was on another wild chase, poking around in an alleyway next to an establishment that served alcohol because from what they had been told, there was suspicious activity in the area and yet nothing had turned up yet.

Not a single thing.

It was unfortunate, but there could be an additional reason--though it was rarer... The spirit may have latched onto an individual. @misfxts.

[contritioned]

It's a soft, sudden grunt the sound he makes. The smallest snarl curling his lip before it disappeared entirely. (He had so many of those little tics ... those things that warned how far along the meter his rage had gone.) They said the big green guy had it bad but it was nothing compared to Frank Castle's shit. He didn't need Gamma radiation or anything special to get him going just the right word (or wrong), the right startle, the mix and mash of actions and commentary.

This didn't anger him per-say ... but it did jolt him. It came and it went, the controlled flash, the twitch of his eye and the wrinkle in his nose as if he'd sniffed from the cold. The cold. Fuck her hand was made of ice.

"Hey, hey, what the hell?"

He nearly twisted away, nearly. Ultimately - and once the shock of it settled - he sank right back to where he'd been before she'd thrust a glacier onto his back. Amid the myriad scars gooseflesh rose, a wake from the origin point of fingers. Frank sucked his teeth, peered over his shoulder at her expression to see if she was pleased with herself.

"This headin' somewhere or you just pullin' my leg on this, tiny?"

Puts her hands down the back of his shirt. “hold still for a sec.”

@rookedcrow is being a butt.

[puhddin]

what's in it for you?

harley is all but smiles. her eyes have gone all starry! she has to look up, and for once she isn't necessarily doing anything bad. (she's been relatively well behaved recently.) "well now that ya' asked, doll." she clears her throat, trusts @truthqueen (out of anyone on planet earth) would understand. "-there's this guy, among the bad eggs yer' trynna' catch. he's got like a crazy bounty on that head of his. and little ol' me would just loooove to get my hands on it." she pulls out the paper where she printed out the relevant information. and she holds it out for her to take. the smile not wiping from her face. "-i know that a girl like ya', well, wowzers! there's nothin' ya' can't do, but i'm an excellent sidekick, just ask anyone ya' know!" maybe not batman. but, who knows maybe he's given her glowing reviews.

[huntedvideo]

incoming case . . . do you . . . believe in ghosts?

'dude, of course. that's, like . . . my whole thing,' well, not his whole thing. other monsters were involved, too. but he had to believe in ghosts. he's seen plenty of them to know that they were real. and plenty of them have thrown him haphazardly against the nearest wall to prove their existence to him. his back hurts just thinking about it, but he ignores the feeling as he gives his attention back to fallon. 'i kinda have an entire youtube channel about it. it's super cringe, but people seem t'like it, so,' finley shrugs a shoulder. 'i believe in all of it,' @mctcrcity.

[jjentertainment]

the  second  bucky  found  out  that  he  and  nat  were  getting  their  second  chance  at  being  able  to  raise  a  child , he  had  been  diligant  in  the  preparation.  it  was  sometimes  hard  to  see  who  was  more  excited . . . the  mother  or  the  father.  the  first  time  around , with  the  twins , had  been  failure  for  bucky  at  nearly  every  turn.  for  every  choice  that  he  made , HYDRA  was  right  there  to  flip  the  table  on  his  whole  family.  with  that  behind  them , with  jamie  and  anya  grown  and  starting  their  own  families , bucky  saw  this  as  more  than  just  a  chance  to  do  things  again.  he  saw  the  chance  to  grow  his  family.  all  he  had  ever  wanted  for  as  long  as  he  could  rememeber  was  a  big  happy  family.  he  was  over  the  moon , but  also  fiercly  protective  of  that  dream.

❛  i  promise , i  won't  overdo  it.  ❜  he  promised  natalia.  sitting  down  on  the  sofa , and  reaching  for  one  of  her  feet  to  massage  it.  much  like  last  time , he  was  just  as  diligant  with  nat  as  he  was  with  preparation  for  the  baby  to  arrive.  they  were  getting  down  to  the  end  of  it , and  as  always , nat  had  been  an  absolute  vision  through  the  whole  thing.  she  claimed  he  was  biased , and  while  that  may  be  so , it  didn't  make  it  any  less  true.  ❛  though , i'm  pretty  sure  it's  you  who's  supposed  to  be  takin  it  easy.  ❜  he  made  a  playful  pondering  face.  ❛  if  any  of  those  baby  books  you  got  are  right  that  is. ❜

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊ @agentxromanoffx.

[sierra6x]

Melissa had scrolled the app up and down long enough until she admitted defeat - there was it. The acknowledgement that she didn't know something as simple as Six' favorite pizza topping, even after all that time of their unnamed and unlabeled relationship. Groaning, the barmaid dragged herself off the couch, bare feet carrying her towards the small bathroom of her place where he had been showering, and knocked first. (Polite, as if they hadn't been fucking each other mere hours ago.) "I'm not doing this for you - we're doing it together," Melissa said in a tone that sounded serious, getting inside the bathroom after he allowed her to and claiming the toilet lid as a temporary seat. "What do you want on your pizza?" she asked then, flipping the phone to show him the screen as if it would magically explain her source of agitation. "Whatever you pick today will be filed away as your favorite for a next time - choose wisely, Six."

He preferred his showers too hot. It was contrary to the usual temperature that men of his size (or in general) preferred. For him it was a ritual: to get the blood off he needed to scald it, to scald it he needed to scrub harder than he'd scrubbed before, that needed steam, steam required molten temperatures and a damn good bar of soap. No matter how much or how hard he scrubbed the blood never really came off. It just disappeared from the visible eye, seeped into the pores of his flesh and the nicks and valleys of his scars, and became a part of him. He wore it like cologne, hidden under old spice and fresh rain, and when someone drew it from him it was a wonder whether it was his or his victims that came out to color his gashes and wounds.

That didn't stop him from allowing himself a semblance of peace.

Beneath the shower head he let his eyes close, tilted his head back enough that he could feel the cascade down his chin and throat, and allowed that same steam to envelope him. If he were an imaginative man perhaps he'd dream of being somewhere far-off where the heat had comfort laced into it, where he was safe and anyone other than Sierra Six. He was not known for that sort of imagination ... not the written, flowery, purple prose kind. His came in the form of quick escapes and daring how to kill a man.

His flesh had long bore suds and had them washed away. He smelled faintly of whatever Melissa stocked her shower with - floral, feminine but not unpleasant (her, and he liked the way she smelled), and borrowed just a dime of her shampoo and conditioner to lather his head and beard with. By the time she'd popped into the bathroom with her irate question he was nearly done ... just selfishly enjoying the way the heat loosened his joints and reminded him of arthritis sure to set in another twenty years (if he lived that long).

He'd heard her before she appeared, though.

Before she'd knocked, over the patter of shower fall, he'd heard the cadence of her footsteps as she meandered toward the very bathroom he occupied. By the time she'd pressed the screen closer to his vision --- as if he were near-sighted (he could have laughed) and it took more than just palming the water from his brow. Six squinted at the options (truly, he did not care) and feigned as if he were making some tough decision before he shifted his gaze back to her and answered.

"Cheese is fine."

Of course.

Fingers, less wet (but not by much) than the rest of him plucked the phone from her hand and tossed it into the pile of clothes by her feet. The same hand grasped at her wrist and tugged her forward - into the shower, or at least across the threshold where she'd get wet regardless, and his arm snapped to wrap around her waist so she wouldn't fall or slip or otherwise come to harm. While he wasn't so much a facial expression kind of person he was sure Melissa knew him well-enough by now to read the mood of his eyes, and they ignited playful in the moment. Wet from him, from the shower head, he leaned forward and stole a kiss from the same woman he'd been pawing at not an hour ago.

Pawing at was wrong.

Feeling, breathing, biting, tasting, claiming. Sex with her was like a symphony and, in the instances he'd slept with other women before, quite unlike those tenuous connections that lasted only as long as it took one or both parties to come. (Admittedly it was harder for him to reach a climax --- who knew years of body-trained ignorance to pain would stunt pleasure too? But that had never been a problem with her.) They spent their time teasing one-another into action, fighting for the upper hand (but never power), then finding new and exciting ways to illicit the foulest language from the other. It was fun.

It meant something.

He let that notion wash away with the water.

The slightest hint of a smirk tipped the corners of his lips. It was lost against the wet, fragrant patch of facial hair that framed his mouth.

"Tch, you're all wet. Careless.

@stingslikeabee

[agentnash]

he hasn't always been dad of the year, but at least he picked up his phone this time. parker parked haphazardly in the school's parking lot, practically stormed into the school, and demanded he be shown where the nurse's office was. the call that had come from ms. foster had concerned the father enough that he had actually left his job to come get his daughter. first, he wanted to lay eyes on sonny and see how bad the bump to her head actually was. pushing the door open, he saw sonny sitting on bed in the corner, eyes glancing from sally and then back again before he rushed over to kneel next to his daughter. 'jesus, kid - you scared th'shit out've me,' gentle hand reaches up to touch the spot on her head. it wasn't big, and he could tell by her eyes that she didn't have a concussion, though it did look like she had been crying. parker stands to look at sally. 'uh - thanks for calling me. what happened, exactly?' if one of the others kids decided to kick his daughter around, no one would hear the last of it. @nuks.

[dsturbedstudios]

𝐂.  ﹔      from  here  with   ﹐  @katarinawilliams.

             He  actually  𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘  wouldn't  have  paid  the  woman  any  mind.   She  wasn't  selling  anything  he  was  buying.   Not  that  he  was  looking  at  this  point.   Just  meandering  down  the  street  ,  watching  the  woman  get  𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃  ,  &  just  couldn't  keep  himself  from  opening  his  mouth.   How  could  something  like  the  truth  really  𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓  someone's  feelings.   Unless  they  happened  to  be  soft.

             ❛❛  I  do  mind  …  Wouldn't  have  walked  up  on  you  if  you  had  more  awareness.  ❜❜     He  shrugged  his  shoulders  after  speaking  ,  looking  at  the  other  citizens  walking  the  streets.   Though  he  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐘  counted  himself  as  a  citizen  of  this  trash  heap  they  called  a  city.    ❛❛  Are  John's  buying?   Cause  that  one  sure  as  hell  didn't  seem  like  he  was.  ❜❜

[ellieenables]

@velvetineblue continued from here.

she could pout and defend, but she is feeling very, very playful. taiyang theodoré tseng is a good target for flirtarious pick-up lines, but as in ellie's next words:

" you will be so kind and let me practice on your, right?"

[uhtr1d]

@fin4n : ' you can't leave me here.'

His hands are tired, his fingers sore and knuckles white where they've gripped his sword for hours on the journey home - his chest continues to rise and fall and the wound in his shoulder continues to burn from the inside out. The air in his lungs feels as if it's being drawn from him with each breath, as if he's teetering on the verge of death but he never quite reaches it. He may have even wished for it, maybe, if he did not have reason to want to live.

Fingers are stiff as they uncurl from the furs but he reaches for Finan's hand and holds onto it, pulling it to his chest. It's a light pressure but he squeezes and eyes search his, his heart sinks into his chest and gods, he's never wanted to live as much as he has then. " I would never be so cruel that I leave sihtric alone to put up with you. " A smile rests on his lips, though it's weak, but his words are spoken through them with jest. He doesn't intend to die, not like this, not now - he's had reason to live before but to leave Finan alone? That feels worse than any death.

" Do you, " His throat feels dry when he speaks but it's a minor discomfort compared to the pain - but he can still feel pain, that means he's not dead yet. Eyes are still on Finan's and fingers are gentle when they squeeze again when he speaks. " Perhaps we should just run away and find an old hut to live in for the rest of our lives. I am tired and you are tired. " He wants to pull Finan into the bed, to lay next to him like they have time and time again but the frequent check ins tell him he shouldn't - though perhaps if he truly is dying he can blame it on his delusions.

Men have died from less, but he is too stubborn to be that man. " I will not. " He says it as if it's a promise, it is in a way, maybe not one he has any control over but it's not his time - he knows that. " I will not leave you, I did not get this far to be taken by a scratch. " He lifts their hands and lips press to the back of the other mans hands . " Besides I have not humped you nearly enough. "

[idagiri]

offers obanai a flower crown she made

" these flowers look like kaburamaru's eyes. "   it's an observation made out loud,  as she takes a crown made of carefully woven red blooms.   balanced on the tips of her fingers,  obanai holds it like it's fragile glass,  something that could fall apart if she isn't careful.   she admires how pretty it is for just a moment longer before delicately settling it atop her own head,  a smile visible despite the mask.

a bit hesitantly,  she brings her hand up to pat the top of zenitsu's head   (  this feels like what an older sister would do,  right?   she can only really guess. ),  " i have some free time.   how about we go find some flowers for you? "

@kaminarikokyu

[contritioned]

"I have a serious question for you," Melissa said, voice flat and murmured as if she was about to discuss some intel or something business-oriented. Even her body posture failed to change into something more relaxed - it was the usual lean over the counter and a good stare at a man that was easily twice of her (at least).

"The fluffy hair and the fuller beard - is there any chance I'll ever see it in person?" the girl finally grinned, dropping all false seriousness of the moment and chuckling, "I just can't picture it - I really want to see it for myself one day."

Brows knit themselves together, expression shifting to a more light-hearted rendition of offended. He was capable of joking, it hadn't been worked out of (or beaten out of) his system yet. While he'd caused his own brand of trouble the first time he'd stepped foot in Killer Queen he'd been given a pass by the owner/bartender and while he drifted this way in the country there was nothing wrong with warming a usual stool. Not that he sat. No, he stood at the same place and watched people, took slow pulls from a beer or two, and just enjoyed being a nobody.

It was nice.

A serious question, she said. And that was it? That?

"Nah, c'mon who told you about that? I need a name."

He was smiling. Absolutely incredulous. An attempt to bat away answering the question with comical deflection. Frank shook his head, leaned forward a little himself (though not enough to encroach on personal space) and hunkered down.

He was still healing where she'd patched him. The familiar pale yellow of bruises nearly-gone blended easily against his jaw and cheekbone and the place where she'd stitched and patched him felt less tight than it had right after the damage was done. Frank was true to his word - he'd help fix up the damage he'd caused (he still wasn't sorry for it), and while all of the signs said he could move on any time he wanted ... he lingered.

Admitting any sort of familiarity would be the death knell. Nobody said anything about a little connection, though. (He'd deny it if called out on it. But even killing machines needed a little social time, lest he really be out of his skull like they said.)

"Got called a hipster enough times that I think it's a dead look. Maybe for special occasions. Yeah, that's likely."

Special occasions. On the run. Depressed. Hiding.

Frank drained the last of his beer and set the bottle on the counter between them. Mischief lingered in dark eyes, glittering them against the mood-lighting of the lights dotting the bar.

"Yeah, lady? Ma'am? I need a refill? Could you stop harassing your customers and give me service?"

[puhddin]

i am NOT joking , i don't wanna (fraggin') do this .

"come on bigboy! you don't know that sayin' about trying anythin' once?" yeah sure this was a set up. and an unwilling patient is no good half of the time. yet, harley remained persistent. "-therapy does wonders for everyone! hell, i betcha' it'll make ya' more efficient at that intergalactic killin' that ya' do." she sure does know how to spend a friday night entertained. "besides i doubt that talkin' 'bout your feelings is gonna kill ya', so there's no hurt in tryin', right? let's see...where to even start with ya'...tell me about your childhood, huh? i bet that was a real doozy." she has a notepad and everything.

[huntedvideo]

'you can tell the ghost that i think they're a bitch,' fin says this after a moment of unamused silence, the man dropping his camera to his side in exasperation. it's not hawk's fault, but damn, did even the spirit world need to jerk him around? finley sighs. 'okay, sorry, that was totally uncalled for. you can tell them that i hate them and that i'll see them in hell, instead,' @mskwtz.