#fuck:

[farklelucas]

A POEM A DAY➜ week eighteen (insp)

[bindtorturekillme]

I’ve had this fucking idea in my brain for ten years and now I’m finally writing it - I am looking for criticism, I don’t even like the title. 

Your Eyes, Vacant & Stained

Ch.1 - 4k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

Excerpt: “A soft, long groan escaped his throat as he tried to blink away the pain. The wind whooshed again, whipping the curtains. The cold snaked down Frank’s naked spine. The taste of not brushed teeth and hours of alcohol sat heavily on his tongue. Rotting.”

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Haven’t written a fanfic in a few years, I hope this pops offs.

Support my AO3 with part one otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap.10 | Chap.11 |

The cold room shook Frank awake. A strong breeze whipped the curtains around before settling back down. He was adjusting to the pounding in his head before attempting to open his eyes. The room was bright, he squinted and turned away from the windows. The bathroom mirror reflected the sunlight straight into his face as well.

A soft, long groan escaped his throat as he tried to blink away the pain. The wind whooshed again, whipping the curtains. The cold snaked down Frank’s naked spine. The taste of not brushed teeth and hours of alcohol sat heavily on his tongue. Rotting.

He pushed himself onto his elbow, reaching for the half full glass of water that sat on his night table. Gulping all of it down before breathing again. He dropped back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. Letting the water settle into his stomach in hopes it would kick away the hangover nausea. He attempted to recall the previous night, but the memory was hazy.

He arrived at the hotel sometime in the late afternoon, meeting a few of his coworkers in the lobby. They were out in the Mojave, somewhere in Nevada where the hotel sat on a beach with a horizon long lake, with only desert surrounding the rest for as far as he could see. Their company was paying for the trip, they were supposed to be recruiting for the new position Frank had just been promoted out of, but when Frank heard they got access to an open bar it was downhill from there.

The drinking had become an issue, he knew that. Mornings like these continued to remind him of what was unpleasant about drinking. But the sweet kisses of warmth that overwhelm him after a few drinks had become too addictive. He craved the touch of warm skin against his, but no one stuck around like alcohol did. Which... he only partially blamed on the drinking.

“Alright…” He said to himself, trying to talk up his motivation. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled himself up. The blood rushed to his head and he squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the heels of his palms deep into his eye sockets. Another, louder and angrier groan came out before he got to his feet.

The room spun a little, but he caught his balance quickly. Slowly he shuffled over to the small bathroom, turned on the shower and brushing his teeth while the water warmed up. His headache died down only a little as he kept the lights off, he spit out the previous night’s endeavors and wiped his face. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he looked more skeletal than usual.

Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

The water was hot, hotter than the bile that escaped his throat last night before he went to bed. The memory hit him like a brick and gave him another wave of nausea. He dropped his face against the cold tile wall, turning the faucet towards his face. He let the warm water nearly drown him.

You are fine. You are not going to get sick.

He pulled his face out, now red and burning. The air felt nice. He inhaled deeply and released it through his mouth. He fought through the waves of pain while he washed himself. His pale skin was a bright red color when he finally got out. The air in the bathroom was humid, but he left the bathroom door open so it stung from the chill. The breeze from the window helped clear the humid air out, leaving Frank’s skin covered in goosebumps.

Across the room, the window was wide open. He could not remember opening the window at all, he didn’t even know windows in hotels were able to open.

As he walked out into the room more, mostly searching for his clothes, he realized the window was not open. It was completely shattered. Sharp shards stuck out from the top corners of the window and Frank’s heart began to beat faster.

He was not the type of person to get scared very easily, but he knew he had little control over his anger when he drank. The fear that he might have thrown something out of his hotel window caused a strong wave of nausea to hit again. He reached out and grabbed the nearby dresser to balance himself.

The smell that he assumed was his breath earlier hit him again; something was rotting. Panic raced up his throat and through to his fingertips. If he did hurt someone, he wondered how long it would be before someone noticed and called the police on him.

He inched closer, the curtains whipped loudly unable to move, something was caught in them. He reached his hand out, he felt hot from the nausea swimming its way back up his throat. Whatever was behind the curtain, he was not prepared for the answer. As he gripped the curtain, unsure of whether the rustling was coming from the wind or something stronger. He gathered his courage and yanked the curtain back. To his horror, one of his coworkers, Kyle, from the previous night, was stuck. And he was currently hanging half out of his window.

His body was bloody and bruised, shards of glass were protruding from his torso and arms, intestines were dangling out the window, his eyes were half-closed as he glared up at Frank with a pale green glaze. His mouth hung open weakly and it looked like his skin was hugging his bones tighter. Frank began to shake. The smell was overwhelming now, he almost wished he hadn’t brushed his teeth so the smell of his own vomit would mask the rotting scent he was able to distinguish now.

A groan could be heard in the room, but it wasn’t from Frank this time. Is my mind playing tricks on me..? The groan slowly elevated into a gurgling screech. He was so caught off guard, he threw his body backwards into the bed, clutching at his towel. The groan turned into a scream and it was gut wrenching, similar to a banshee’s scream but with a more blood-choked gurgling.

Blood began spilling from the man’s mouth, but he could not move. Frank felt stupid for becoming so terrified of something that could not move, let alone hurt him. He pushed himself back up onto his feet, shaking away the fear and readjusting his towel.

Slowly, he moved towards the window. Kyle stopped screaming so loudly, Frank assumed he realized he was unable to move. Frank took a sidestep closer to the window to look down over the ledge. It seemed like the world had stopped. The water continued to lap against the beach, and he could identify heat waves in the distance coming from the sand and concrete but no one was around. When he had arrived the previous afternoon, it was hard to see through the crowds of people checking in or leaving but, this morning, it seemed abandoned.

Frank redirected his eyes down, below his window, a body had splattered across the concrete. A wet pool of blood surrounded it, he wondered if that was why his hotel window was broken and could only blame himself. But, the longer he looked, the more he realized that wasn’t the only splattered body on the sidewalk.

Why hasn’t anyone called the police…??

A nervous twist gripped his stomach as he looked back at the half-severed man next to him again who was now making biting sounds at Frank. He moved closer to the window to get a better look down and that’s when he realized what he thought was his other coworker was actually only the other half of the one currently hanging out the window. His torso was mangled and spilled out and down the side of the building, his intestines unwound and the end of his spine wiggled freely. Below, in the bushes next to another smashed other body, was a pair of legs mangled and covered in lacerations.

Frank backed up. The guy on the floor continued munching in his direction, clearly hungry. Frank didn’t feel safe getting ready around the guy, but he knew he couldn’t leave him there to stay in whatever state he was in. Frank spun around and checked his surroundings, determining the bedside lamp to be the most blunt option.

Hahaha! You really are a fucking maniac, aren’t you?

The darker voice in the back of his thoughts liked to taunt him. But he ignored it and grabbed the lamp anyways. Pulling it back like a baseball bat, he swung at the man’s head and the lamp broke. Along with a small piece of the man’s skull. The man sat unmoving now. His eyes were vacant. Skull slightly caved as Frank brought the lamp down a second, then third time. Double tap, he vaguely remembered.

Frank dropped the remains of the lamp next to the body and sat down on the floor next to the bed. He pulled up his knees and used them to hold up his elbows while he rubbed his eyes deeply, attempting to remember anything from the night before. If he was not already screwed, he was now.

Stars began forming in front of his face, when he tried to open his eyes his vision was mostly black and spotty. He closed them again and laid his head back. That was when the fog began to recede a little. He remembered the after party he and his two coworkers weren’t supposed to go to. The sun had set, and the air was even cooler.

Loud music was coming from all around him, the drink in his hand was just the ice left over from the last drink he had. The lights around the area were blinding, the bar was on top of a stage next to the DJ. Frank could feel the rhythm through his feet vibrating all throughout his body.

His face was flushed and he felt hot, the top couple of buttons on his shirt were undone, he couldn’t remember where his tie had gone but he hoped his jacket was with it. He put the sweating glass onto the bar and leaned in, “DOUBLE CROWN ON THE ROCKS?” He yelled over the music into the bartenders ear. The bartender just nodded and took his cup.

Frank looked around while he waited for his drink. The party had a large crowd, scattered around the beach and pool area, all the other bars off the stage seemed to be filled with people, even his coworkers, Kyle and Derek, were at a tiki-themed one just down the beach, chatting up some girls. He figured this one was empty due to the location of it, but that was why he picked it.

He had no interest in meeting anyone new, let alone talking to the people who were there with him. He felt the cup against his hand again and turned around. He flashed his company card to the bartender who just nodded and turned away. He dropped two singles on the bar before stalking down the beach to the tiki-bar.

The whiskey burned his lips but went down hot and smooth, he could feel himself getting drunker faster. He began his journey over to Kyle, Derek, and the girls they were schmoozing.

He took another sip, and then another. Derek took notice of him then and waved him over, one of the girls turned around to smile at him but her smile turned to a frown that eventually turned into her yelling something he couldn’t hear.

Frank was so distracted he didn’t notice the large man stumbling towards him. “Hey, easy there,” Frank shouted, holding his drink up and out of reach to prevent spilling it, but the guy didn’t seem to hear him, or care. The man lunged at Frank, teeth bared and growling.

Frank knocked the man back with a single armed push before downing his drink. It didn’t go down as smoothly when he gulped it over sipping it. The man only stumbled before regaining whatever balance he had and went after Frank again. This time, Frank dropped his glass and swung at the man, missing due to his lack of hand-eye coordination in his current state.

The man grabbed Frank’s other arm and began to bite at him. He was more than relieved to see Kyle and Derek were behind the man now and pulling him away by his arms before he actually was assaulted.

What kind of a psycho tries to bite people when they’re drunk? He thought to himself. The security for the event was there in no time, taking this guy down easily. But the man continued to bite at everyone who came near him, thankfully not actually biting anyone to Frank’s knowledge.

“Hey, you okay man?” Derek shouted, he was getting hazier as they stood around. Frank nodded while Kyle began dusting him off.

“I think I’m just gonna go back to my room…” Frank slurred, his vision had gone from single to triple in seconds and that’s when he knew he hadn’t eaten enough food to have drank as much as he did. His body swayed and Kyle casually held him to keep him straight.

“We’ll come with you,” Derek said, but Frank could tell Kyle wasn’t ready to leave yet. Frank shook his head, making himself dizzy.

“Nah- *hic* nah, you guys- you guys stay here.” He insisted, patting Derek on the shoulder, drunkenly pushing him away, Kyle detached when Frank was not paying attention. “I’ll be totally fine!” He slurred and began making his way away from them towards the hotel lobby.

“We’ll come check on ya in a little bit!” One of them shouted at him as he continued to walk away. He didn’t turn around, he just wanted to be alone in his bed.

The cold wind coming from the broken window snapped him back to the current day. He could hardly smell the copper anymore that plagued the room. He didn’t want to put the Z word on this situation, but he couldn’t think of another explanation. A half-severed body in his room that was still living. The biting at him was especially weird. But he knew he would never find anything out by staying on the floor of a rotting hotel room.

He made his way over to his duffle bag, fishing out the casual clothes he was planning on wearing on one of their free days. The trip was only supposed to be for a business week, but today was day three and everyone seemed to have fled, so he was still packed well with basic supplies.

Once he was dressed, he made his way to the bathroom, stuffing any soaps and toiletries that he could into his bag to take with him. Nearly anything not glued down was his now. He stopped and checked himself over in the mirror, hoping the black jeans and button down wouldn’t be too hot for the weather. Without thinking, he grabbed a small glob of pomade and did his hair quickly.

Once he was satisfied, he stuffed his personal products into a separate pouch in the duffle bag and began towards the bedroom door. He took one final look over to the window, the blood and the body. Something he hoped he wouldn’t have to see again but knew if this was what he thought it was, there might not be a choice in how many more dead bodies he sees.

He slipped on his sneakers and left without hesitation. The hallway was empty and quiet. His watch claimed it was a little after ten in the morning. He hoped to find at least one other living person on his way out.

He pushed away that thought. It is not zombies, he reminded himself. It cannot be, he would’ve heard about it before it hit. He would’ve had time to prepare. Unless this is the first place to be hit- He pushed away that thought too and continued down the hallway.

It felt like someone was watching him, but every time he checked over his shoulder, no one would be there. The hallway seemed longer than he remembered, the elevator was in the center of the building. He found the small lobby on his floor and began towards the elevators but stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner.

Across from him was a wall completely made of a floor to ceiling mirror. A full body was slumped against the mirror, blood splattered all over it and the surrounding floor. The once white flowers on the decorative table between the elevators were also now drooping and blood soaked. Thankfully, this person’s head was down so he didn’t have to stare into another dead man’s eyes. At least, he hoped he was dead.

Quietly, he inched closer. The carpeted floors only helped. The person didn’t move. Frank reached the elevator finally, not taking his eyes off the body. He clicked the down button and a loud ding rang out. He felt his soul jump out of myself momentarily, his eyes not leaving the body that was still unmoving.

An eternity later, the doors finally slid open and he nearly hopped inside, pounding the close doors button. As they slowly closed in front of him, he regained his confidence and the elevator descended. The elevator wasn’t free of what he assumed to be fragments of people’s bodies splattered against some of the walls and floor.

The descent felt as though it was building up to something suspenseful, but, as Frank prepared a battle stance with his fists raised, the doors slid open and the lobby was surprisingly clean. The contrast of the elevator made him feel like this was just a prank for Halloween, but it was the middle of August and the blood he accidently stepped in followed him through the carpet as he walked out, squishing for nearly every step.

The second he stepped outside, the sun reignited the pounding he thought had previously departed. He gazed over the lines of cars before the pounding took full control. He squeezed shut his eyes while he gripped at his skull, stumbling forward a little. Then a scraping sound caught his attention from behind and a heavy weight smashed into his back. Without thinking, he dropped to his knees and threw the weight over his head onto the pavement in front of him. A hairy man with a vest and cargo shorts landed on his back in front of him, groaning.

Before he could think, Frank swung the slightly weighted duffle bag onto the man's head, clutching it like a handbag to control the follow through. Frank looked around in panic, anything that could be swung harder than a bag with mostly paper would be nice... He spotted a truck that had a ladder strapped to the top and bolted for it. Unsure of whether or not there would actually be anything helpful, his bag wasn’t enough and he was beginning to doubt the no zombies idea.

He practically flew into the truck as his weight slammed against it, the other man was able to get to his feet and began dragging his body towards Frank again. Now he could tell the man’s leg, ankle, and feet were all pointed in wrong directions and it made him gag. He swallowed a small chunk of vomit.

He went back to rummaging the back of the truck, there wasn’t much in the back of that either, maybe a couple of plastic buckets, a mostly empty tackle box, a couple of fishing rods; Frank became frantic and threw the duffle into the trunk before jumping into the bed as well. Being careful to avoid hitting his head on the ladder overhead.

The groaning man was only a few cars away as Frank began to throw some of the useless items out of the truck, a couple of tarps bunched into the corner of the bed were thrown over for Frank to discover a compartment built into the bed of the truck.

He dropped to his knees and yanked the compartment open to find a box full of miscellaneous tools inside. Good enough, he thought as he looked up again, the man closing in. He grabbed the biggest thing he could and swung at the man, a wrench smashing the man's jaw off as if his skin had already fully rotted.

Frank felt repugnance plague his insides as he jumped back out of the truck to see the man trying to get up again. He slammed the wrench down into the man’s skull this time, brain matter and skull fragments flew in all directions. His stomach could not take it any longer, as he examined the brain matter stuck to his pants he wretched, holding himself up by the truck.

Glancing around, he noticed there were bodies scattering the parking lot. The smell of the rot in the festering sun made him sweat harder, his nausea grew and he wretched again. Heaving up more of the whiskey from the previous night. The pungent sting burned his throat and coated his teeth, and he thought to himself, as he did every hang over, this is the last time I drink.

He looked back at the body, trying his best to avoid looking at the disaster of a head, he began to feel around the guy's pockets. He wiggled out a wallet, lighter, an Altoids tin, and a key ring with a fob attached. The first thing Frank did was click the lock button on the fob, hoping it was the truck they were intruding on but he heard a chirp a few rows away.

He quickly went through the wallet, realizing money probably would not benefit help him anymore but pocketing the seventy-eight dollars regardless before dropping the wallet back onto the body. He turned around to check out the back of the truck again before heading towards the chirp of the fob, deciding to keep the wrench just incase.

Doing a once-over, he deemed nothing else important. He looked in the direction where he remembered the chirp coming from and clicked the lock key again. He followed the noise, only letting the car chirp once or twice to avoid any more unwanted attention. As he made his way over, he flicked open the Altoids tin and, to his pleasant surprise, he found it packed with pre-rolled joints.

“This is better than what I was hoping for…” He said out loud to himself as he popped one in between his small grin, lighting it with a deep inhale that barley created a cough.

The parking lot wasn’t free of bodies, but it looked like most of the cars from the previous day were still there. Frank pondered through a couple of ideas on who had made it out alive, and what they did to fight for their life.

He swore at himself for not having much memory of the night before, but he was thankful that all he had to do was sleep through it. He rolled his eyes at himself. A couple of chirps and he found an old mossy green pick up with a tiny bit of rust.

A couple of hits and he couldn’t care what kind of car it was, as long as it got him to people who weren’t trying to eat him.

[plesiosaurchestra]

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lauren epsum solo shit

dougus dippus deltoid dump

crampus krungus forrest gump

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[longreads]

How Concerned Citizens Drove a Neo-Nazi Out of Rural Maine

Christopher Pohlhaus planned to build a fascist training compound in the woods of rural Maine. The local journalists, veterans, lumberjacks, and policymakers weren't having it.

Pohlhaus, 37, is a former U.S. marine, an itinerant tattoo artist, and a hardcore white-supremacist influencer. He is loud and hostile, and proud to be both. His voice is pitched surprisingly high, and he has a slight Southern drawl. He has a large body and small bald head; a blue-black tattoo crawls up the right side of his face, from his chin to his forehead. Over the years, Pohlhaus has collected thousands of social media followers, who know him by his nickname: Hammer.

Hammer had been living in Texas for a few years when, in March 2022, he bought the land in Maine. He told his followers that he was going to use it to build a haven, operational center, and training ground for white supremacists.

Check out our excerpt of The Atavist’s latest blockbuster story. 

[389]

PORTO ROCHA

[crying-is-your-latest-fashion]

Legit what happened with Trumps shooter.

#😂😂😂

[nanaluvbug]

🧀🥪🌶️🥭 The Ravening War portraits  🧀🥪🌶️🥭

patreon * twitch * shop  

[ID: a series of digitally illustrated portraits showing - top left to bottom right - Bishop Raphaniel Charlock (an old radish man with a big red head and large white eyebrows & a scraggly beard. he wears green and gold robes with symbols of the bulb and he smirks at the viewer) Karna Solara (a skinny young chili pepper woman with wavy green hair, freckled light green skin with red blooms on her cheeks. she wears a chili pepper hood lined with small pepper seeds and stares cagily ahead) Thane Delissandro Katzon (a muscular young beef man with bright pinkish skin with small skin variations to resemble pastrami and dark burgundy hair. he wears a bread headress with a swirl of rye covering his ears and he looks ahead, optimistic and determined) Queen Amangeaux Epicée du Peche (a bright mango woman with orange skin, big red hair adorned with a green laurel, and sparkling green/gold makeup. she wears large gold hoop earrings and a high leafy collar) and Colin Provolone (a scraggly cheese man with waxy yellow skin and dark slicked back hair and patchy dark facial hair. he wears a muted, ratty blue bandana around his neck and raises a scarred brow at the viewer with a smirk) End ID.)

[70sscifiart]

One of my favorites by Paul Lehr, used as a 1971 cover to "Earth Abides," by George R. Stewart. It's also in my upcoming art book!

[taizooo]

もともとは10年ほど前にTumblrにすごくハマっていて。いろんな人をフォローしたらかっこいい写真や色が洪水のように出てきて、もう自分で絵を描かなくて良いじゃん、ってなったんです。それで何年も画像を集めていって、そこで集まった色のイメージやモチーフ、レンズの距離感など画面構成を抽象化して、いまの感覚にアウトプットしています。画像の持つ情報量というものが作品の影響になっていますね。

映画『きみの色』山田尚子監督×はくいきしろい対談。嫉妬し合うふたりが語る、色と光の表現｜Tokyo Art Beat

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

ac nū eow wite hū hine bið 'ides' swa bist 'aglæca', bēo ne ge-wed oþþe siððe wer hæbbe, for-þam hē hafað æþelingiċ on ge-wurðan, swa hine hæligan bið on sawl ond sawl-homa. eow witon hine ac ne hine haton swa.

[layla-keating]

#thistension

XO, KITTY — 1.09 “SNAFU”

[nevver]

Arts & Architecture, Sander Patelski

[foodffs]

Noodles with Lamb Sauce (Laghman, 新疆拌面) Xinjiang laghman features chewy noodles served with a bold and rich lamb and tomato sauce that is bursting with flavor.

Recipe: https://omnivorescookbook.com/recipes/uyghur-style-noodles-with-lamb-sauce

[lesserknownbots]

CJ from Hello World (MSPFA) by phasedsun?

[kithtaehyung]

AGUST D : DAECHWITA (大吹打) & HAEGEUM (解禁)  ⤷ movie posters | ig ; twt (click for hi-res)