#nicknamedrook

( @nicknamedrook​  asked: “There’s an exit wound, the bullet went through you.” / meme i’m too lazy to look up )

      John’s throat feels thick as he swallows, visibly uncomfortable with the Deputy behind him. It’s bad enough he’s been dropped by a bullet through his side  — but he handles vulnerability like an injured animal ( ready to bare teeth and fight ). The youngest Seed no longer wears the mask of the Baptist. Salvation is on the backburner, but he no longer wants to save her  — he was ready to die if he could take her down with him.

      ( dying is easy until it breathes cold down his neck )

      But he’s alive, injuries far from fatal.

      He digs the heels of his boots into wet earth to scoot back towards the shade of an old pine. There’s no more cocky radio calls or violent threats after the hot bite of the bullet went through him. His gun rests on the ground, inked fingers pressed in his own blood ( for once. ) He expects her wrath to equal his, for her to kill him then and there, rather than checking for an exit wound. Still he means to face her, to pull away and rest against the bark.

      He inhales a sharp breath, eyes locked onto her. In her place, he might have finished it and after all he’s projected onto her, after all of the wrath he saw in her  — he can’t fathom her keeping him alive. Pulling a bloody hand from his side, he wraps it around the key against his chest instead.

@nicknamedrook

There was a small silver platter with sandy looking cookies sitting next to a Keurig and the accompanying pods on a small table in the corner. Their warm, sugary, scent didn’t quite permeate the waiting room, though it provided a subtle and inviting touch.

A clock ticked in the corner, each movement of the second hand as definitive as a metronome beat -- just slightly off from the time signature of the classical music that was playing. 

The waiting room should have been comfortable. It was the subtle things that just barely escaped attention that made it disquieting. 

   ------ SHE WONDERS WHAT THE OTHER wants with her. micah is -- well -- she’s still not used to being outside of the cult, it’s been several months since her escape. since her mother -- micah clenched her jaws once the thought appeared. she doesn’t want to think of it. she doesn’t want to think. they’ll find her - they will. they have to. closing her eyes, micah breathed in slowly to calm herself - whitehorse told her to do this whenever she became overwhelmed. it was -- it helped more than she would admit. doing a few more calming breaths - the young woman put all of her attention on ruth. curious to see what she wanted. ‘ -- what did i do now? ‘ was the first thing that came out. micah wanted to ask if the other needed something - but instead that question came out. she really needs to think fully before speaking.

@nicknamedrook​ said:  “ let me handle this. ”

Ethan scoffed. He could tell how everyone around him looked at him like they were so much better than he was. No matter where he went it seemed that those around him would only ever see him as incompetent. It made his blood boil and his jaw stiffen. He didn’t need help  —  he didn’t want help. It felt all too similar to pity.

His head dropped down for a moment, gaze pointed to the ground. Air hissed as Ethan sharply exhaled from his nose. 

send birthday wishes to my cat 

clarke says that he has had so many Cat Treat Meat GoGurts today (1 whole meat gogurt) and that he is enjoying himself very much.

lips twitch into a LAZY SMILE as head tilts to face her , hand instinctively reaching for a strand of hair and twirling it with a finger. thing is , she knows it already --- many men and women have fallen for it and the PERSONA it represents. " does it? " she asks , voice low and raspy with sleep. body shifts between bed sheets , for tonight she'll just roll with it. " come here , and i'll let you touch it. "