* - BOUNTY HUNTER / PRIVATE EYE

          ❛❛  so  just  like  that  ,  huh  ?  ❜❜  despite  her  own  hesitance  to  go  beyond  anything  other  than  longing  for  change  ,  there’s  a  sense  of  admiration  for  those  who  take  it  upon  themselves  to  see  it  through.  mary  isn’t  sure  she’s  made  peace  with  the  concept  of  free  will  yet  ,  for  then  the  blame  of  the  outcome  of  things  would  be  forced  to  fall  upon  her  own  shoulders.  it  was  much  more  convenient  to  blame  fate  when  things  appeared  to  coincide  with  tragedy.  ❛❛  i  don’t  know  ,  then  it  seems  silly  to  just  leave  everything  behind  if  you’re  gonna  come  back  to  it  .  .  .  and  i  couldn’t  picture  my  father  on  a  boat.  ❜❜  she  could  barely  picture  him  outside  of  the  house.  ❛❛  i  think  ————  –  i  think  i’ll  have  an  excuse  lined  up  for  whatever  appreciated  pep  talk  you  give  me.  ❜❜

"Just like that.” There was a bright grin on his face as he spoke. It was something he never excepted or saw himself doing--- even his family was surprised when he stepped forward and offered the helping hand on his parent’s trip to the states. And as he mentioned, the FULL INTENT of returning back to Africa was there as soon as he stepped on American soil. Quint didn’t want to live there! Or so he thought. Just there to aid his folks in getting settled. “Then a Holiday! Go somewhere you’ve always wanted to go and see how ya fair. You don’t need to leave EVERYTHING behind. And, hell, leave ‘em if ya old man’s gonna hold you back!“

“  yell at me an’ i won’t shoot!  ”  he will,  of  course,  because  he  doesn’t  fancy  seein’  a  man  get  mauled  by  a  fat  fuck  off  crocodile.  or  is  it  an  alligator?  he  knows  all  his  horse  breeds  from  his  days  at  the  ranch,  could  tell  you  what  type  of  horse  he  was  lookin’  at  from  a  mile  off,  but  he  couldn’t  tell  you  what  was  in  that  water  right  then.  only  that  it  had  huge  claws,  a  huge  tail,  and  an  even  huger  mouth.  still,  despite  all  the  frenzy his  hand  is  steady  as  he  fires  several  shots  at  the  creature.  

     one,  two,  three  four  five!  (  once  i  caught  a  fish  alive  )  any  second  now  and  the  thing  will  have  completely  submerged  itself,  and  there’d  be  no  hope  in  hell  for  the  stranger  then.  nobody’s  seein’  that  thing  in  this  swamp  of  a  pool,  its  water  a  murky  green  -  brown,  a  thin  film  of  oil  and  grime,  and  whatever  the  hell  else  is  thrown  into  the  reservoir  of  st  denis,  floating  along  its  surface.  its  jaws  open  wide  and  the  creature  hisses  at  them.  “  you  go  any  god  damn  faster  ?  ”  he  shoots  again  and  this  time  the  bullet  lodges  itself  into  the  crocodile’s  head.  the  hissing  stops.  its  head  collapses onto  its  front  webbed  feet.  a  relieved  sort  of  half  whimper,  half  groan  escapes  him  when  he  realises  the  thing  is  dead.   doesn’t  wanna  deal  with  another  one  of  those  for  as  long  as  he  lives,  and  he  wasn’t  even  in  the  water  with  it.  

    slotting  his  gun  into  its  holster,  he  slips  off  the  side  of  his  horse  and  leans  down  to  offer  the  man  his  hand.  “  gimme  your  hand.  ”

He’s hunted crocodiles before back home--- he’s hunted PLENTY of places all over Africa even! And he’s been HUNTED too. Massive beats lurking in waters just as filthy as the marshes here in America. Yet, he always made it out unscathed. But then again, he usually goes into a hunt PREPARED. Being bucked off a damn horse, off a BRIDGE of all things ( smaller in size, sure, but the hard SMACK against water still stung all the same. ), and damn well in the jaws of the animal was not something he excepted. A few more shots fired off from his revolver. The bullets were all but USELESS against the thick skin of the reptile. It wasn’t enough fire power.

Quint felt his gut do flips and his heart sink when his trigger CLICKED and the monster began sinking beneath the water’s murky surface. Common move before they flew back up to STRIKE their prey. He’s seen it one to many times. “I’m fuckin’ tryin’!” A foot sunk to far into the mud as he neared the water’s edge. Resulting in him falling back with a splash, and a cry of pain as he lands on an already injured arm, which was to to EXCITE the beast more. Blue hues close tightly when they meet with that GREEN GLARE of the crocodile it’s hiss making the hair on his neck stand straight UP. Then there was the final shot--- and just as quickly he could hear the water settle. The bounty hunter almost had to FORCE himself to even look. A shaken sigh leaving him when he sees it’s indeed dead. With a groan he pushes himself up. Freeing a booted foot from the mud that all but consumed him.

it  was  nice  to  get  away.   although  a  large  part  of  her  heart  ached  to  be  even  minutes  away  from  her  son.  the  small  boy,   sleeping  alone,   surrounded  by  familiar  faces.   family  and  friends.   but  mama,   she  needed  her  alone  time.   alone  with  him.  warm  in  an  orange  glow.  she  felt  the  heat  coming  off  his  skin.   felt  his  pulse  when  his  hand  held  the  back  of  her  neck.  causing  chills  down  her  spine.  the  touch  made  her  inhale.   the  kiss  —  melt.   abigail  sighed,  nearly  spreading  her  legs  completely  wide  for  him.   ❛  𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘  𝒎𝒆.   ❜  she  muttered,   hands  dipping  to  his  chest.   pushing  open  buttons  aside.   ❛ show  me  that  you  need  me.    𝒉𝒐𝒘  𝒚𝒐𝒖  𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕  𝒎𝒆.   ❜

@ethicscode​: presses a big ol smooch to quint's mouth            

Blue hues went wide when the other, a man he was still VERY unfamiliar with, pressed his lips to his own. The few seconds that were held seemed a hell of a lot longer than they actually were. Even when the other broke away from the kiss--- there the bounty hunter stood. Still staring at him eye to eye. Finally, Quint reeled back in surprise after the fact. Features no DOUBLY shifting in color.

@burieshim​​: ❛   tell me… tell me you want me.   ❜      

They were alone in that moment. Side by side on a rickety old bed. It seemed like they never had any privacy in her camp--- not that Quint EVER complained. He enjoyed what company he got with Abigail, truthfully. Her pale and dainty hand started by resting on his knee before it gradually slid further up his thigh. Cheeks heated--- but it was hard to tell in the dim candlelight. Large hand cupped the back of her neck as he leaned in. Anchoring her against him. Taking her lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. LIPS  offered better reply than the WORDS he couldn’t even muster. Very hand that cradled the back her of her neck fell. Finger tips brushing over the front of her chest, catching on the fabric of her blouse. Shyly, carefully, hiking up her skirt--- so that cold fingertips could glide against warm flesh of her thigh.