#• ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᶦ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘⁿᶜʰ ᶦⁿ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴄᴇ.（ verse: a ）

[freebcrn-blog]

“if they don’t change the fuckin’ channel, i’m about to smash this two dollar glass into the screen.” his fingers drummed against the aforementioned glass as he stared heavily at the television screen. he had told the bar tender to change it twice. there was a game on channel twenty six, they had been on that before. but then some prick down the bar had slipped the tender a twenty and they suddenly were watching some fucked up news channel, that was detailing how climate change wasn’t real. turning towards the man to his left, he smiled what he hoped was a charming smile, despite how buzzed and on edge he felt.  “hand me that ashtray? it’s heavier than my glass, man. i’m gonna fuck this place up.”

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[freebcrn-blog]

“is this yours?” HE WASN’T TOUCHING THE car because he knew how people were about their personal objects. he assumed she’d have the same feeling that he had when he came outside and saw people crawling over his bike, like a bunch of fucking vultures. no respect. he wasn’t touching her car, but he was looking at it. hands in his pockets, he walked around as if he was checking out a woman -- but instead of was a vehicle.  “it’s fuckin’ nice.”

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[freebcrn-blog]

“dude, you’re gonna get fuckin’ mowed over. they don’t clear the corners too well here, hang back.” a tattooed hand came out to touch the other man’s shoulder. his back was to chick, and he assumed that was why he didn’t hear him when he spoke, but he was worried about the cars coming around the corner. they were on the sidewalk -- but he’d seen more than one person almost get hit here in the short time he’d been in town. he didn’t really want to watch ANOTHER almost die. a little breach of personal space was something he’d have to sacrifice to tug him slightly back. 

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[freebcrn-blog]

CHICK DIDN’T KNOW THE man at all. he’d seen him in passing at the venue, but that didn’t mean that he knew him. if he was asked to identify him in a lineup as someone he saw tonight, he might be able to pick him out. but that was besides the point. no, the POINT was he didn’t know the man. but he knew the situation. he didn’t look like he needed any backup, he looked like he’d fair just FINE on his own. but chick had been here before. on the other side, slinging the slurs at someone’s face. he figured he owed it to the man he was today to step in. stepping up next to the man who looked about ready to throw a punch, he gave the homophobic asshole a look. “the fuck did you just call my boyfriend?” his voice was rough. “the fuck you just call him?”

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[freebcrn-blog]

��� that feels nice. ❞

touch-starved starter. | accepting.

FINGERS RUBBED SOFT LITTLE circles into her skull. he had been playing with her hair, but instead moved to softly scritch. now, rough pads of finger tips rubbed gently into her head. she was curled against him, it was pouring outside, they had warm drink and he had already killed his coffee before she pressed against him on the couch. he couldn’t help it. he took a moment to lean down and press a soft kiss against her hairline. fingers moving from stroking to brush her hair back, he peppered another few soft kisses against her forehead in obvious affection. “anyone ever tell you you’re like a fuckin’ puppy, baby girl?” 

[freebcrn-blog]

❝ i need to remember what hugs feel like. ❞ (from juliet, yknow bc ppl have treated her like she's breakable since her accident)

touch-starved starters. | accepting. 

HIS ARMS OPENED UP wide for her, gesturing for her to come closer. he knew she could, just because she had a disability didn’t mean she wasn’t mobile on her own. far from it, she could get near and far pretty easily. a short distance to the space between his arms, against his chest, wouldn’t be too much for her. “bring it in sweetpea,” he said, a bit fond as he smiled softly at her. “i’ll hug your tiny ass.”

[freebcrn-blog]

❝ It’s their blood. ❞ -- Eurus

seven psychopaths sentence starters. | accepting.

CHICK DIDN’T KNOW IF he should touch anything. the last time he was involved with cops, or any kind of legality like this -- he was on the wrong end of the stick. he knew that she wasn’t a cop. but god she was close enough. “right,” he cleared his voice. gesturing vaguely at the door. “their blood. who’s they? and why is their blood all over the fuckin’ door?”

[freebcrn-blog]

❝ What the hell happened? ❞ ( from isaac ! )

seven psychopaths sentence starters. | accepting.

“t’fuck it look like?” his voice was a bit muffed, hand covering his nose he moved past isaac in order to head for the sink. he didn’t feel like talking to him  outright about this at the moment. but he knew he couldn’t avoid it, because he’d seen him. you couldn’t just walk away from something once you saw it. and he knew he’d pressure him for answers – just like chick would pressure him for answers if isaac came back with a bloodied up face. just like chick had when isaac came back with a bloodied up face. “sorry,” he breathed out after turning the sink on. dipping his hand into the cool water, he didn’t hiss as it flooded over the wounds on his knuckles. he did hiss when he splashed it up over his face. water dancing into wounds on his nose, cheek and lip. he told himself he wasn’t going to fight like this anymore. at least this time it had been for the right reason. didn’t change the fact he did it. didn’t change the fact he was a bit embarrassed by it. “sorry,” once more for good measure. looking back over at him, bloodied up water dripping off his face. he breathed out through his mouth, spit in the sink and shook his head.                                                               ouch. bad idea. HIS VOICE WAS GRUFF as he spoke once more, repeating his apology. “sorry, not meaning t’be an asshole. just bad practice, i guess. some dude called cody a – y’know. had to break his face. didn’t see his friends until i already told cody to leave.”

[freebcrn-blog]

❝ Maybe the world just doesn’t understand you. ❞

watership down starters. | accepting.

“that’s -- that’s wonderful, baby, really. totally wonderful, generous notion. but here’s the thing; they do understand me.” his voice was a little hard, obviously with a bit of an edge to it. he sounded as if he was nervous, as if he was being defensive -- because he was. every ounce of his voice was on edge, and he was fighting how defensive he was feeling at the moment. his fingers tightened around the phone in his hand. the article, written by a blogger on some website he’d never heard of before, was calling him out on the internet. he knew how this went. he knew once they brought up your dirty laundry, you were done. it didn’t matter how kind he was now, how much he had done to change who he used to be -- he was still that person who would stand by while his friends beat a gay man to death in the public's eyes. “they understand who i am, what i was -- they just don’t care. all they see is black and white, all they see is what they want to see. they’ll fuckin’ gut me and leave me out to dry because of somethin’ i said nine god damn years ago.”

[freebcrn-blog]

“there’s terrible evil in the world.”

watership down starters. | accepting.

“yeah,” he mumbled, sitting next to her. legs spread, he thought for a moment he should give her more room -- but considering they were alone on the subway he thought she’d be fine with him manspreading a bit. his fingers picked at one another, plucking away bits of hanging cuticle as he looked back over to her. there was a wiry smile on his face and he nodded again. “yeah. it’s fucking shit out there sometimes. killing each other, themselves -- directly, indirectly. unless you mean some real big baddie, and not the duality of man. because i heard someone thrashed downtown last week with a weird lazer beam? i was just talking about morals.”

[freebcrn-blog]

t ag dump