#hopecut

[itsnotpatsy]

1. a documented hug between a mom and her son.

2. so this is love.

3. the riffraff cleans up good.

4. the ray of sunshine to be aspired to.

5. it might be time to replace an old favorite.

6. a lavender shirt worn handsomely.

[gsarchived]

       ‘  you could at least hear me out.  ’ the fact that she’s so stubborn is both a blessing and a curse. though, in this instant, it may be more of a blessing. however, zatanna didn’t come to the investigator naive. it’s amazing what kind of information you can gather by just asking around. she knows jessica is difficult, but that won’t stop her. ‘  you can just think of me as a charming, stage magician if that makes you sleep better at night.  ’

@hopecut.

[rustknuckles]

@hopecut  from here.

scott never ceased to amuse her. whether it be with some dumb joke, an inappropriate wiggling of an eyebrow or just scott being... well, scott. in a world that had been pretty shit and dark to neena in the past, having someone as radiant as scott there for her? it was unusual in the best way possible. for so long, all neena had as company way big brooding mercs who didn’t give two shits about anything that wasn’t payday. she knew scott was a perfect person, he’d probably spent just as much if not more time in prison than she had, not to mention all the parts she was yet to learn. but that didn’t matter. that shit was irrelevant to neena. 

“ooohhh 2000′s? oh puh-lease tell me you have final destination stashed away in there? cause that--- ” she makes a chef’s kiss gesture with her hands now, smiling broadening on her face. “  --- pièce de résistance.” okay so french was one of her strongest languages to speak, but that just added all the more charm to it, right? 

shaking her head at scott now, smile still more than evident on her face, before she’s rolling her eyes and taking one step, then two into his apartment, an automatic feeling of warmth spreading throughout her as she realised that this apartment of scott’s felt like more of a home than anything she’d stepped foot inside of in a long time. perhaps it were the photos of cassie and scott throughout the house, or the slight lived in feel to the general aesthetic. here was something about the place that was warm, and happy, and more than enough for neena to know she wasn’t going to regret the decision of staying. 

“first of all, i didn’t just save your ass tonight, i save your whole damn ass and second of all--- ” she turns now, one hand on her hip as she shrugs off her bag with the other. “--- you don’t owe me anything. except maybe a beer to go with the leftover pizza?  ”

[griftersister]

                     there’s a huff of laughter that bubbles to the surface  ,  neck craning to shoot athena a look equal parts   amused   and   IMPRESSED.    thus far  ,  she’s found the vault hunter to be almost unbearably dry  ,  humorless and uptight but hey  ,  she’s happy to be proven   WRONG.   to see that there’s more under that ice cold exterior than meets the eyes  ,  the capacity to   joke   at rhys’ expense.    because if you couldn’t laugh at some hyperion stooge getting spooked by a plant  ,  stumbling backwards and tripping over some conveniently placed vines you weren’t actually living.          ‘    oh  ,  I know it alright.    ’          and maybe that’s not exactly   fair  ,  she’s on her own turf with a literal lifetime of experience to call upon whereas he’d only just dragged his dumb butt out of that fancy space station to face off against the rogue planet and all who inhabit it.    it remains to be seen whether she’d still have the upper hand if they took this off-world  ,  forced her into that utterly foreign environment where he presumably   thrived.    but for now  ,  she’ll take it. 

                     warm   pride   rises up  ,  settles contently in her chest.    a feeling not unlike those she’d had when felix praised her marksmanship or her conning instincts.    which is hardly comforting  ,  considering how her last mentor / father figure had panned out with a blown up briefcase and a knife in her back  ,  considering that it was that   traitor   that’d hired her.    they’re a job  ,  nothing more.   and reading into things would just lead to more hurt in the end. 

                ‘    I don’t trust him  ,  like   at all.    ’          it tastes like a lie on her tongue  ,  for despite everything she knows about hyperion  ,  everything she   loathes  ,   a part of her does trust him at least a little.    a bigger part   wants   to trust him  ,  to believe that despite   E V E R Y T H I N G   maybe  ,  just   maybe   he wasn’t cut from the same cloth as handsome jack and the rest of his ilk.    and that’s not comforting either  ...          ‘    so  ....    thanks  ,  I guess  ,  but I’ve got this.    ’

@hopecut    /    cont.

[rustknuckles]

“ i guess being angry is just easier than being sad. ” / jess @ roy

@hopecut / drownedjewel - idk which meme!! 

 if he could raise a drink to her statement, he would. but alcohol wasn’t exactly easily available within the confines of rehab, nor should it be. his hand loosely scratched at the beard that had grown due to the lack of self-care he’d be practising, eyes that had grown tired from the withdrawals flickered over to jessica where they observed her face for but a mere second before he adverted them and spoke. “it is.” he gave a raise of his eyebrows in agreement, hands then busying themselves with the other, picking the quicks out of his nail beds. “doesn’t excuse you from being a dick to that counsellor though.” not that he could talk, wasn’t it only last week he’d lashed out at one, too? 

“what’s going on?” his voice was raspy, not his own anymore. once, it had been as smooth as  velvet, boosted with confidence that practically radiated out of every pore on his body. now? it was desperate and hopeless all at once, worn out and deteriorated... it perfectly mirrored the hollow shell of a man he’d turned into. “i thought you were feelin’ better?”

[rustknuckles]

@hopecut - cont.

          "where i get my handcuffs isn’t your concern.” slapping her hands together to get any grime off of them, eris observed ares while he scavenged through the desk. arms folding across her chest and she leans against the dilapidated door frame, eris lets out a throaty chuckle as he holds up the picture, hand to coming to her chest in an attempt of feigned appreciation. “i’ll ask him to paint me as goddess, being hand fed grapes and sucklin’ on a goon bag.” she was about ready to kick it to the next house and ransack that, her body in a half turn before he was right there. her breath catching momentarily in her throat before she’s rolling her eyes at him. 

how many times had they been here before? one invading the other’s space just for a reaction. a reaction that had a one hundred percent success rate of happening. anyone would think they’d have grown tired of those kinds of games, now. days to weeks, weeks to months... yet she still wasn’t bored with him. she was excited by every event, by every touch and every suggestion of an adventure. an adventure that led to the complete upturning of some poor bastard’s house or a complete ransacking of a shitty shop. she loved it. for so long, eris had waited for someone who loved the thrill of the fight as much as she did, had waited for someone who wouldn’t judge whenever she wanted to put her fist through someone’s jaw... someone she’d happily jeer on when they did the exact same. 

she’d never believed in a soul mate, or love or any of that petty bullshit. but if she had to pick a person she’d never connected to more? it’d be ares. in this fucked up world and even more fucked up situation of living, she’d finally found someone... familiar. even if he was a fuckin’ idiot. “oh cry me a bloody river.” she husked out, her hand finding his waist to slowly drag her fingers up over his body, making sure to feel every bump and ridge of his muscle until her fingers were sprawled out against his chest. a wicked grin to match ares’ own had spread across her face. “not like you had anything better to do.” her eyes travelled momentarily then... to his lips, then his eyes. how someone could be so handsome yet so pretty at the same time baffled her. she moved closer to him now, just like he had before. head tilting slightly as though she was about to close the gap before a hefty shove was delivered straight to his chest where her hand had been residing. a dark chuckle leaving her throat as she did so. “c’mon then! we got other places we gotta suss out. heard on the grapevine that a shack a few blocks from here has some decent weapons we can knock off. unless you’re tired?” 

[rustknuckles]

“ you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together. ” / jess @ neens

@hopecut​ - idk which meme!!

         she nods, eyes closing before she’s running a hand through her hair which was wet and fuzzy. she hated when it got wet. quickly pulling it all back into a messy bun, neena started to feel the ache of her injuries. the muscles in her shoulders felt as though someone had struck them with a sledgehammer, her abdomen cried out for some form of reprieve, but neena couldn’t do anything to make it better. lucky, not invincible. a common misconception that both she and others always seemed to make. for once, she just wished that her luck would listen to her when she needed it. she wished that she had some magical healing regeneration like wade did, that fucker. but no, she was stuck to heal her own injuries like any one else. with a deep sigh inward, she then learned perhaps a rib or two had been broken, bruised at the very least. she was still in her merc uniform, bits of blood (unsure if it was hers or not) painted the uniform an unusual array of deep red.

she couldn’t remember the last time she’d failed a job so goddamn badly. her eyes stung from tears she’d unknowingly sprouted as her throat felt as though she’d swallowed concrete. domino always got the job done, and she’d never let anyone die under her protection before. but there had to be a first for everything, right? she’d taken a private, body-guard type of job, tasked with the protection of a what she was told would be a mature age senator, but ended up being a teenager, no barely even that. a child. that’s what she got for taking on shitty jobs for some quick cash. cash that she didn’t even get since she failed and the person she was supposed to protect died. how would she come back from something like that? how could she run future x-force missions after this? “fuck!” she sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. neena wasn’t a crier, but there was tears leaking from her eyes that felt like they were boiling hot against her skin.

she was thankful for jess then, thankful for someone who didn’t want to pry into every detail of her mission. thankful that she wouldn’t try and coddle her or comfort her or do the whole it’ll be okay. she didn’t need that. neena would have thrown a damn near fit if someone had have tried that with her now. this was why she loved jess. she was just the right amount of understanding that she needed. the right amount of mutual respect and acceptance needed when working in the kind of work they did. “job kinda sucks sometimes.”  she swallowed thickly, hoping to try and line her throat with something so it didn’t feel so dry. without thinking, neena let her head rest against jessica’s shoulder, eyes closed and mind racing. “i think i need a holiday.”

[skingames]

“y’know, hell’s kitchen is sketchy,”  luke says as soon as he sits beside jessica at the bar -- he’d spotted her as soon as he stepped inside the small pub -- hole in the wall,  really.  turk barrett had been operating out of here tonight and he feels like he’s done enough of a job to warrant treating himself to a beer.  it just so happens he steps into jessica jones again,  hoodie threadbare and ridded with bullet holes.  companionable,  even if she isn’t quite so,  luke continues,  “i’ve kind of figured that out after moving to harlem,  but i was in the neighborhood.  fancy seeing you here.” / @hopecut