sordidery

[sordidery]

finished arcane… why would you guys let me experience this

[sordidery]

DON’T be surprised when i add vi and jinx. also who wants to write w/ vi and/or jinx :D

[sordidery]

absolutely OBSESSED with gaby teller currently. oh okay so you’re a FREAK who abuses gender roles to gain social advantages… you beat up men in a psychosexual way… you are a spy and a mechanic and a sexual deviant for your time period…

[sordidery]

i fucking love long standing solo blogs. what do you mean you like that freak so much you write for them consistently... how do you do it. what if the wind blows and the leaves sing... how do you not get distracted

[sordidery]

the man from uncle is challengers for people who love the sopranos

[sordidery]

hehe adding some men (boo!) to the blog:

sebastian (slice of life, la la land)

nick nelson (slice of life, heartstopper)

will turner (horror, removed from canon, put in interview with the vampire)

[sordidery]

tashi has always been drawn to the larger than life pieces, the scenes that paralyze the viewer into submitting into the world it portrays. art, despite his idiotic name, doesn't have the eye for it. he knows something beautiful when he sees it, but he doesn't know why. he puts his hand to her waist and listens to her negotiate with doe eyes, but he couldn't give less of a fuck, and he's terrible at hiding it. tashi thinks he just likes to hear something that isn't tennis. it's a pill harder to swallow than the stupidly fucking expensive alcohol gracing her lips. this particular painting was a politically chosen gift for her ego-injured husband. if she spent all day at home, recovering from surgery, staring dull-eyed at something that took such determination and dedication to create, she would man up and play with everything she had.

she's a class act: she doesn't scoff, roll her eyes, let so much as an annoyed breath out. he might as well say it plain. the expectation is for her to sit here, get wasted, let the lavishness lull her to complaisance. maybe she'll shell out another couple million, maybe he'll drag her into some messed up threesome with his emotionally distant husband. that's the magic of the larger-than-life windows and expensive furniture, of dubai, of the enigmatic but hardly spotted art dealers.

"then i'm sorry to have brought it up." heavy eyes drag down armand's thin frame, slowly returning back to his smooth, taciturn face. the both of them are without their husbands, the men that gracefully dampen their hard edges. she feels vaguely threatened where direct threats have not been made, like they're engaged in a volley of conversation, both aware of their own quiet need to dominate. she takes another sip of her drink, contemplating the title of top seller. "we're happy to win the bid. the piece is beautiful, it'll be in a home where it can be appreciated."

so many gorgeous, million dollar paintings locked in different billionaire's storage rooms. dust slowly tarnishing the gleam of their varnish, cracks ruining the perfect impasto of each brush stroke. her knee, the skin jagged and discolored, aches radiating up it with every too-sharp movement. art's shoulder, the flesh scarred in perfect lines, stitching itself back together day by day, all too happy to soak up the time of disuse. tashi settles further into her chair, scarred leg crossed over the other, skirt exposing the skin of her legs. "beautiful things aren't supposed to rot in the dark. you don't do all the hard fucking work of becoming great just to hide that away."

PROMPTS. @sordidery's [ tashi duncan ] inquired : what do i owe you?

" well, I don't think it is .. polite to discuss numbers over drinks, the price was sent to your electronic mailbox.. louis and I are certainly , charmed by your interest in the piece. " a finger gently traced the rim of his glass, golden eyes peering into the other's. they would invite both investors of certain pieces of art & business friends to a secondary location in dubai that was nowhere near the penthouse. it had balconies, tall windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, and a precious view of the ocean. not only was this a social gathering among their closest partners, but it was a very rare occasion the two would make such public appearances with mortals.

louis always excused himself around the hour once he made his rounds, hugging armand's arm in a portrait of paradise between lovers. armand often stayed, having the tact and desire ( most times ) to entertain with bottomless drinks, and three star michelin catering, the cost should be akin to insanity. but, these events push interest ( both intrigue and curiosity ) of the handsomely rich, multimillionaire partners who seemingly kept to themselves. and, of course, armand was separately known as the reclusive billionaire who owned the profitable entertainment getaway, night island. sometimes, armand leaned into the importance of such events, allegedly to breathe.

" besides, we came to the conclusion you were the top seller, who we felt would truly care for and appreciate the piece. "

[sordidery]

“yeah. . .” a warhead travels around her mouth. she used to have a sour candy every day, practically prescribed by taffy, just to cope with the hordes of mindless zombies around her. 'it'll shock your system into being, like, normal!' she throws her backpack to the ground in front of her, actually savoring the sour flavor, her eyebrows knotting together. “i don’t enter pacts over stupid things. i think they’re kinda life or death, yknow?” that might be the most words she’s ever strung together in front of paris. lisa’s not used to having anything to say, and now that she does, she’s not supposed to say anything about it. it feels wrong to let taffy take all the credit for her creature’s vogue-like style instincts, but she figures keeping the secret is more important. besides, she has to be used to lisa's lacking conversational style by now.

the girl only glances over at them, hands already fiddling with her locker combination. the rest of the school is looking at her for the first time, but paris is looking at her different. she feels different. still gangly and awkward, but her hands wild, whirling hands are feminine and her poorly done make up is stylish. lisa curls a frizzy piece of hair around her fingers with one hand, opens her locker with the other, pleased with the looks she’s fielding. no one she’s actually wanted to have a conversation with has looked at her like that.

“i- um. needed a change.” she swings open her locker, unceremoniously shovels notebooks into her bag, wide eyes sneaking a look over her shoulder at her friend. “d’you, like, like it?”

@sordidery 🖤’d for a starter. [ for lisa. ]

❝ you look . . . ❞ paris pauses to let their eyes travel up and down lisa's frame again. ❝ uh, different, ❞

not necessarily a bad different, though the bewilderment on their face may be indicative of such a train of thought. it's just that they've never seen lisa so . . . dressed up before. she's standing taller than usual, eyes a little wider, more alert. paris must look sleepy in comparison. they fiddle with their locker combo for another second, which would be easier to do if they could take their eyes off her.

people are definitely looking at them. paris can feel the eyes of their classmates boring into the back of her head, which makes her want to book it down the hall. normally, no one pays them any mind unless they're looking for some freak girls to pick on. paris gets it a little worse, they think, 'cause taffy improves lisa's social capital a smidge. that, and the fact that she's actually really pretty, which paris would not describe themselves as.

she seems to be taking advantage of those looks now, if her new dress is any indication. paris finally manages to open her locker, swallowing as she reaches inside to grab a few books.

❝ did you lose a bet to your sister or something ? some kind of makeover pact ? ❞

[sordidery]

I spend time following Louis and Lestat, now that I am my own woman, with no obvious sense of why I follow them, other than meaning slowly disintegrates without them, my companions in immortality. But today at the cemetery, I finally understood something so obvious, which I had pondered for a decade--why they made me... To be Louis's sister.

[sordidery]

🎧 — do you write while listening to music/podcasts/videos/etc, or do you need total silence?

munday asks: hehe so! i absolutely cannot listen to podcasts/people talking while writing! BUT i also can’t write in total silence. i usually listen to character playlists or songs that fit the vibe of what im writing. in school i had to listen to rock/loud music at almost full volume while studying to get anything through my thick skull… unforch i’m a freak

[sordidery]

MUNDAY  ASKS !

🌈 — name(s) & pronouns 🎈 — gender and/or sexuality 🎂 — age and/or birthday 🕗 — time zone 💕 — single or taken? ⭐️ — sun, moon, & rising signs, if known 💭 — MBTI and/or enneagram, if known ❓ — three adjectives that describe you ❤️ — what are some of your best qualities? 💔 — what are some of your worst qualities? ✨ — what would you change about yourself, if anything? 💘 — what and/or who do you consider near and dear to you? 🚗 — what vehicle(s) do you drive? ✈️ — ever traveled anywhere interesting? ⌨️ — what operating system(s) do you use? 📱 — mobile or desktop version of tumblr? 🖥 — favorite platform besides tumblr? 🎮 — favorite video game(s)? 🖱 — any cool devices/tool(s) of the trade? (i.e. type of mouse, monitor, keyboard, tablet, etc) 💍 — any piercings? 💎 — want any (more) piercings? 🖊 — any tattoos? 🔏 — want any (more) tattoos? 🎄 — favorite holiday(s)? 🍝 — favorite food(s)? 🍦 — favorite ice cream flavor(s)? 🍰 — favorite sweet(s)/dessert(s)? 🐶 — any pets? 😍 — celebrity crush(es)? 😊 — any career desires? 📚 — if you’re in college, what’s your level (undergrad, grad, phd, etc) and/or degree program? 😖 — what annoys you? 🎶 — favorite song at the moment? 📕 — favorite book/series? 🧶 — any non-writing hobbies/interests? 📺 — favorite movie(s) and/or tv show(s)? 📇 — does your url have a meaning? if so, what is it? ✏️ — how long have you been roleplaying on tumblr? ✍️ — what other platforms have you roleplayed on? 🗒 — what is/are your favorite genre(s)/theme(s) to write? 🤔 — what genre(s)/theme(s) do you struggle to write the most? 😁 — what’s your favorite part about being part of the rpc? 😤 — what do you dislike the most about being part of the rpc? 💻 — how many friends have you made in the rpc? feel free to tag a few of them! 🎧 — do you write while listening to music/podcasts/videos/etc, or do you need total silence? 🤗 — are there any rpc mutuals that you’d like to meet irl? 😀 — are there any rpc mutuals that you’ve met irl before? 💖 — what was one of the greatest/happiest moments you’ve had in the rpc? 🖤 — what was one of the worst/most depressing moments you’ve had in the rpc? 😳 — what was your most embarrassing moment in the rpc? 🎁 — what have you accomplished in the rpc that you’re proud of? 🫂 — how many friends are in your irl friend group(s)? 🎉 — what are some of your favorite things to do with your irl friends? 😗 — what are some of your favorite things to do when you have some time to yourself? 💯 — share three random facts about yourself that your mutuals may not know about you.

[sordidery]

THE WORLD'S A LITTLE BLURRY OR MAYBE IT'S MY EYES, THE FRIENDS I'VE HAD TO BURY. . . THEY KEEP ME UP AT NIGHT.

[ #PUTRIFIC ] a mutuals only blog for 𝕷𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝕷𝖊𝖊𝖈𝖍 the vampiric hostess known for keeping late night tv abreast! set in the world of interview with the vampire. ran by ripley.

[sordidery]

inbox call :DDD

[sordidery]

inbox call :DDD

[sordidery]

@repierce, rory gilmore to carmy berzatto: "I AM PAINFULLY MISUNDERSTOOD."

“yeah?” a half smile, rising a cigarette up to his lips. rory is all snark, all white-hot ambition. it reminds him of the way things were in new york. speed and wit and a crushing sense of building, building, building. carmy misses it. the way ambition smothered him, wrapped around his chest till all he had to worry about was this breath, the next. even with the way the beef kept him chasing after his own tail, there was too much time. too much to feel, too much to remember. "i don’t even think there’s much about me to misunderstand. they " his free hand stretches out in front of him, flexing, and withdrawing. "they find their way though." carmy runs the same hand through his hair, subconsciously searching for some sort of grounding. the cigarette isn't enough. he isn’t a talker, not in the way she is. he doesn't have an answer equipped for whatever comes his way not a kind one, anyways. the chef shuffles on his feet, turning his shoulders to face her a little more. he takes another inhale and nods to himself, once, twice. "alright. you- um, you have the floor. what don’t we get?”

[sordidery]

“asshole.” said for the sake of it, impeccably cheerful despite her whining. she smacks at a piece of gum, mauling it with her back teeth. only a few minutes ago, she’d been blowing bubbles, and now, she's not sure she can stomach it. the off-white of her gum bares an unreasonable likeness to the mangled gore hanging from butcher’s hand. still, the clown-lady continues her assault on the minty-fresh stick, more interested in busting his balls than actually being disgusted. no one's ever had reason to call harley quinn a pussy, and she ain't gonna give them one now. she’s a good few steps behind him, weary of the sludge crawling up the sides of her stolen designer boots, but she takes a step or two closer for good measure. “if i had known we were gonna be in these guys guts, i woulda worn protection." HA. she just cracks herself up. "thas' a murder double entendre for ya.”

her head whips to follow the trajectory of the discarded pencil, interested peaked by the slab of gore it lands in. harley leans over, inspecting the scene. nothing good: simply viscera and some inexplicably pale substances. “you sure know how to take a girl someplace nice, eh, butchie?” harley blows a marrow-white bubble and straightens back up. “well. someone else got to 'em first. we ain't gonna find shit. dinner? 'm thinking burgers.”

“  i don’t wanna sound like a wimp but this is really freakin’ me out.  ”  /+  HARLEY QUINN to BUTCHER

his first curse is a whisper , that is how anyone within earshot could tell this was bad . the small room clung to pungent air , a distant window sat barred and heavy with dust , the occupant had a stronger stomach than most . floorboards had turned damp over time , what should have been sturdy wood felt soft underfoot . when , that was , butcher could even get a steady grip of the floor . it was slick with something , glistening with fat , blood , and bodily fluid . accustomed to the vulgar he may be , but this was bordering on unbearable . still . . . needs must . he finds a half chewed pencil and bends , idly swiping congealed liquids from the wood before lifting a piece of pink flesh with its end , its underside still oozing blood .

she's able to coax a laugh from blistered lungs . a short cough of a thing that hurts more than it was worth . " fuckin' wimp . " just a confirmation . . . he thought she'd earnt it . with a nudge the slab of flesh is flipped , the exposed gore is no better than the rest of the mess he's well and truly crouched in ; the tails of his coat is sure to gleam and stink , there's never a rush to clean it . " but i don't blame ya . looks like this cunt was wearin' a mate of yours for a bit . " he stands , tossing the pencil into the discarded skin . his nose wrinkles when the clatter of wood doesn't come , and finds it near standing upright in cloudy fluid . " i'll betchya a thousand quid they've been dead for a while . " he turns , glistening fingers splayed over his chest . butcher pouts , wearing a mockery of sympathy , " you have my sympathies , love . "

[sordidery]

blood, blood, gallons of the stuff ! a collection of icky, bloody prompts for those who like to choose violence. actions are reversible. general warning for blood, violence, murder, death.

𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 :

" that's a lot of blood. "

" it isn't mine. "

" what did you do ? "

[ sigh ] " what did you do ? "

" come on. have a taste. "

" holy shit, are you okay ? "

" it looks worse than it feels. "

" you should see the other guy. "

" it's a good look on you. you should get covered in blood more often. "

" lean on me. "

" oh my god. oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck ? is that what i fucking think it is ? "

" . . . gross. "

[ standing over a body ] " oops. "

" is that a fucking body ? "

" look, i'm sorry, okay ? "

" what the hell happened ? "

" before you say anything, it wasn't me. "

" at least it wasn't me this time. "

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you pretend it isn't. "

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you wish it wasn't. "

" i'm not scared of you. "

" you don't scare me. "

" shut up and let me help you. "

" i got your shirt all bloody. "

" let's get you cleaned up. "

" that looks like it hurts. "

" i'm fine, just. . . give me a minute. "

" we are so fucked. "

" what the fuck is wrong with you ? "

" are you gonna help me clean it up or not ? "

" the fucker deserved it. "

" red looks good on you. "

" what the hell did you do ; tap - dance all over the body with ice - skates ? "

" what, did you run over the body with your car a couple times after ? "

" i. . . i didn't mean to. . . "

" sorry. fuck, i'm sorry. "

" this isn't what it looks like. "

" it was an accident. "

" motherfucker ran right into my knife, i swear. "

" people need to look both ways before crossing. . . bullets. "

" would you believe me if i said wrong place, wrong time ? "

" hey, look at me. i don't care. are you okay ? "

" they deserved it, right ? please tell me they deserved it. "

" you're bleeding. "

" what the fuck happened to you ? "

" you're getting blood on the carpet. "

" sit down before you fall down. "

" that looks like a you problem. "

𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 :

sender spits out a mouthful of blood at receiver's feet

sender spits out a mouthful of blood on receiver

receiver finds sender covered in blood

sender tries desperately to stop receiver's bleeding

sender helps receiver clean up after a kill

sender wipes blood from receiver's face with a washcloth

sender wipes blood from receiver's face with their thumb

sender licks receiver's blood off a knife

sender licks receiver's blood off their thumb

sender lights up a cigarette a foot away from someone they killed before offering one to receiver

receiver finds sender stood over a body

sender stitches up receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]

sender digs their finger into receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]

sender frantically checks receiver for injuries under all the blood

sender guides receiver's bloody hands under a faucet / water source and begins washing them clean

sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood

sender tilts receiver's head back to staunch a nosebleed

sender draws a smiley face out of the blood they spilled :)

receiver finds sender cleaning up a kill in a daze

sender looks receiver in the eye as they shoot / stab / kill someone

sender ruffles receiver's hair, getting blood all over their hand

sender gets some of receiver's blood on them and makes a face

sender flicks blood at receiver to annoy them

sender stomps in a pool of blood to splash it on receiver

sender slips in their victim's blood but receiver steadies them before they can fall

sender steadies receiver when they slip in the blood sender spilled

receiver comes home to sender covered in blood and waiting for them with all the lights off

sender spits out a tooth and it hits receiver

sender tries to wipe blood off receiver but the blood on their hands just makes it worse

sender takes an injury meant for receiver

sender shows up on receiver's doorstep covered in blood

sender sits down quietly next to receiver after receiver kills someone

sender punches receiver in the mouth

receiver watches sender lick the blood off their fingers like its cheeto dust

sender helps receiver bury a body

sender hugs receiver just to get their victim's blood all over them <3

sender hugs receiver just to get their blood all over them <3

sender leans on receiver for support

sender kills someone to protect receiver

receiver finds sender in a frenzy maiming a body after they've already killed it

sender kills someone and the blood spatters on receiver

receiver finds sender desperately trying to wash the blood off of themself

sender kisses receiver to taste the blood on their busted lip

sender shoots / stabs receiver non - fatally as a warning