#quick drawn

❝ You can stop flinching. I'm not dropping acid on your face, friend. ❞ Scooping up more of the clay mask, Niran sets on tackling Cassidy's blocked pores, his own face mask (matcha oat milk) hardening at the temples. A few moments in, he hums absentmindedly. ❝ Have you ever thought of deep conditioning your beard? ❞ »•»𑁍«•«

@quick-drawn sent:ㅤ💫 a late night text.

texting promptsㅤㅤ.・。.・ㅤㅤaccepting!!

@quick-drawn asked:

"Alright, think you're jus' 'bout ready then." There's a grin partially hidden in his features — he wasn't particularly feeling the best today, probably the worst of the week actually...but her excitement proved a bit CONTAGIOUS. He made Lena a PROMISE. So long as she managed to pass her permit test today, he'd let her on the bike. And when Jesse makes a promise, he keeps it.

It wasn't exactly the class bike you'd expect to see her on, and it was definitely a bit overweight for her size — but if she learned to handle this thing, she could handle ANYTHING. So it's with that partial smile he stood at the front of the bike, leaning to the handlebars as he straddled the wheel in preparation for her to attempt a LIFT.

"That book I gave ya — you read it? Front t'back?"

Lena had worked hard at being patient.

The pair were in the midst of their training when his accident happened, Lena finally learning how to shift through gears without stalling and getting up to speed comfortable. Speed being, of course, a comfortable 30 miles per hour, but everyone had to start somewhere. Her graduation to solo trips and eventually, a bike of her own, lurked just on the horizon as their trainings progressed.

It had given a certain light to her, a purpose to keep fighting when everything seemed a little too dark. She treated each lesson as an opportunity for speed, a chance to press the miles between her and that wretched isolation chamber. So many nights were spent after dinner and the day's jobs were done, cruising around the flat lot behind the base with Lena becoming more and more confident every day.

But nothing good could last. Jesse's injury had interrupted everything, grinding progress to a halt across the board. Blackwatch had their own upheaval over the loss, and Lena's time switched from dutiful hours beneath the setting sun to rambling with Jesse about things that really didn't mean anything. Their roles switched as easily as anything, the diligent friend and the survivor, seeking out a reason to continue.

Neither spoke about his bike sat collecting dust in the garage.

He had finally made enough progress to escape the unending hum of the medical ward, cleared on low-activity leave for the time being. Lena had resisted pressing, the question clearly burning a hole somewhere between where her ribcage started and her lungs ended. But still, she stayed the angsty spirit, choosing instead to wait until the day of her permit.

The test had been easy enough - after all, Lena learned from the best - on a bike much smaller than Jesse's. Her trip back to base felt faster than life, watching trees fly by so the pair could celebrate the next win together.

"Front to back, three times!" The piece of paper announcing her status trembled with her excitement. His weariness was missed by the hyperactive woman, focused on her own success, her own mark of freedom against the world that dared to wrong her.

"Can't stop me now! Ha!" Wary of his arm - or lack thereof - Lena pulled him into a tight hug. The time for tears had passed, adrenaline sidling in instead, but her appreciation was there nonetheless.

"Thank you."

The moment concluded, Lena pulled back with that contagious grin on her face. She rounded the bike, appreciating the smooth angles and glossy finish that had been scratched only a few times during the learning process.

The lift was touch-and-go for a second, Lena teetering against the weight of the bike. It weighed four times what she did, but that didn't stop her from hauling it level with a resolute expression. Once established, her balance maintained easily and Lena pumped her fist excitedly.

@quick-drawn​

“Well sure they do,” she answers with a light little laugh that crinkles her nose.

“But most children don’t also turn around and actually become cowboys though, so I was just a little curious about whether or not baby Jesse McCree was running around with a bandana and toy six-shooters playing Law Dogs and Robbers, acting out his lifelong dream?”

The western they had started how-ever long ago is completely forgotten as she pivots ever so slightly more towards him –– [ though how careful she is as she does so, not wanting to shift his hand from where it rests on her calf where her leg is slung over his lap… or to disturb him from where her other leg rests against his side, his arm propped over it ] –– and this time the light and amusement in her eyes has exactly nothing to do with any drinking games. 

Just him. 

[ But then, hadn’t it been just him from the start? ]

@quick-drawn​    ✧ ∘ ˚    sc.

     “ it’s okay if you don’t want it. ”

  ‘it’ referring to the small potted succulent, a peperomia graveolens, which the boy holds carefully in his hands, half-extended toward jesse. the smile he wears is shy, but carefully crafted to show the assurance that there won’t be any offence taken if the gift is declined — he wants to be sure the plant LIVES, that it isn’t only accepted to avoid making him feel bad.

@quick-drawn sent:ㅤ👫 equivalent exchange,,, please i'm begging —

relationship headcanonsㅤㅤ✧ * º •ㅤㅤaccepting!!

ㅤme, bouncing off some of the thoughts you posed in your answer for this very meme? more likely than you think. ...better toss in a tag for @chronal-anomaly too since lena comes up a fair amount.

ㅤin the beginning, byan is basically just the biggest nuisance. while they gave up trying to make a fake id work since cassidy figured them out in seconds the first time, they still sneak into the bar on a regular basis. it's entirely too common for them to steal not only from the bar, but from cass's customers as well. they've also instigated at least one bar fight. after discovering that cassidy is lena's best friend however, and not exactly being thrilled with that revelation, they are at least slightly more well-behaved. ...if only because they suspect that they'll immediately be tattled on if they cause too much issue. they do still steal from the bar's patrons though, that's just never gonna stop.

ㅤthere's definitely more of a resistance that's put up toward cassidy after learning of their common tie to lena — in particular, byan is a lot more aggressive any time he tries to play nice or tries to offer an understanding ear. they don't like the idea of him thinking he can swoop in and play the role of a big brother just because he happens to be so close to the person they've come to view as their big sister, regardless of whether or not that's what he's actually trying to do. however, i think that resistance melts away a bit as they come to recognize how much they have in common with him. there are things cassidy can relate to which lena can't, and that lends itself well to them potentially opening up to him, at least a little. any time this happens though, it ends in them threatening him if he shares it with anyone, including lena. he's not even allowed to imply that they had a serious talk to her. do not talk about their character development with other people.

ㅤthat being said, i'm also kind of fond of the idea of their relationship going through a brief stint of petulant rivalry before they warm up to one another. like, just childishly sniping at one another (mostly behind lena's back, i'm sure) and vying for lena's attention. honestly, it's probably more one-sided (on byan's side, of course), but i can kinda see cass getting sucked in occasionally despite being the adult. the severity of it lessens over time; byan's just not used to having to share someone they care about, even if they were doing it unknowingly for such a long time.

@quick-drawn​

“And all of the humility, too. Who says that you can’t have it all?” James answers, completely deadpan.

It had been rapid-fire, almost fan the hammer volley of shots contrasted by a steady, measured staccato: 1- 2- 3- 4- 5- 6. 

From this distance it would seem as though only Jesse had managed to land all of his shots on the target––it was a tight grouping, impressive to be sure. From this distance? At that speed? On a moving target?

He presses the button to bring their respective targets forward to them once more for inspection. Only… once they are in front of them would it become clear that something was perhaps not what it had seemed at that distance.

There, at the center of his target, are three shots, tight enough that it could have been mistaken for one.

He turns his head to look at the younger man, a small pause before he speaks.

“… You are talented, and you are skilled,” he allows in almost the same steady and measured calm as the shots he had fired.