#i know my soul is garbage but take it you fucker

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 52 - Only I Will Remain

(I'm not very good at remembering to cross post here from AO3, oops).

Y'all need to talk. And what smells like goblin piss?

On AO3.

You don’t say nothing. Fucker slinks into the light like he didn’t just dump your ass this fucking morning for not spreading your legs. He walks on in like y’all are within one hundred miles of banter territory.

“Nice to see you still alive and kicking,” he says. Waits, like he’s going to get any kinda answer more’n “why are you here” or “fuck off.”

He seems to pick up on that when you sit there and stare. Silently. He drops the saunter and folds down into…what looks an awful lot like a “dog who knows he fucked up” sort of hunch.

“I…I came to apologize for my behavior last night,” he says. “It was rather…beastly.”

You…he…you wanted this conversation. When you saw him again. You’d hoped y’all could hash this out like adults, maybe find what went wrong and, you know, fix it.

“You’ve seemed upset today,” he continues. “And I can see why. I made…assumptions.”

Your throat is not squeezing shut. You don’t get apologies all that often. Because you are usually the problem. Ryan Meadows thought you were such a problem he never even gave you a chance to apologize or explain. He cut off a decades-long friendship with Sasha to ditch you.

You start to open your mouth. Tell him it’s okay. But you pause to swallow and try to make sure your voice don’t come out all strangled or pathetic.

And Astarion says, “But if you let me know what you prefer, we could try again? I’m quite open to most things, darling.”

Your teeth snap shut. He smiles at you. Bedroom eyes creep back into his expression.

He’s…what?

He takes your silence as some kinda invitation and sidles closer. Pitches his voice lower, “When you’re ready, of course.”

He thinks…you didn’t like the way he touched you? And that’s why you been avoiding him? Why you spent the night crying until you couldn’t breathe? Why you went into this soul thing vaguely hoping it wouldn’t work?

Because you didn’t like his fucking foreplay technique?

“You don’t got any idea why I’m upset, do you?” you manage.

He blinks. His face moves in like, three different emotional directions before landing on polite interest. “I beg your pardon?”

He still wants to fuck you. Still sees you primarily as a potential fuck buddy. You pressed yourself into it. Chickened out and got treated like garbage, but now he, what? Wants to shoot his shot again?

Is this negging? Is this what negging is?

You thought…you don’t even know. He was fun? Kinda charming, in a fucked up gallows humor way. He was someone you could relate to in a way a lot of people aren’t.

But he don’t see you the same way at all. Maybe it’s the whole vampire thing—predators who lure victims in—or maybe that’s just who he is. You are something for him to eat. To use. Man don’t mean a single thing he’s said to you, does he? Apology included. He’s after blood and sex, and he’ll offer any kinda sweet apology to get it.

You recognize it. What it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like. You got good at that when you were younger.

It’s like colored lenses falling off your eyes; you see him in a whole new light.

“I think,” you say. Take another calming breath (it don’t work). “I think you and I have a very different idea of…”

This ain’t a relationship. And…well. He ain’t actually your friend, is he? At least not from his perspective. He, he may never have been. You read it wrong (again). Thought you were making a connection with someone you could maybe, just maybe trust (again).

And you were wrong.

Again.

You look at him. Pasty weirdo. Charming dork. A vampire that ripped open a woman’s throat and drank her dead. He looks at you, all smiles and expectation.

“I think,” you try again, “that you and I should put some distance between us.”

You watch that hit him. Watch his face shutter tight.

“I still think we should all stick together, though,” you add. “You don’t got to; you’re a free man. But I think we’ll be safer sticking together.”

He even moves different. Gone is the fluidity of his shoulders, his lazy head motions. He’s crisp and precise when he backs off. “So, no pitchforks and torches to chase me out, then?”

“We ain’t never gonna chase you out. You can stay as long as you want, Astarion.”

“Ah. Ever the generous one, aren’t you.”

He really can’t help but make that sound like a bad thing. Especially with that edge creeping into his voice.

“I just don’t want any of us to die, alright? Is that suitable for you?” you say.

He tilts his head, every mean girl, passive aggressive smile-to-hide-thoughts-of-harming-you. “But of course. I always appreciate someone sensible. There’s safety in numbers, darling.”

Somehow, though his tone don’t change from his usual, that last word manages to come out bladed.

He’ll stay part of the group. And…and he’ll still need blood. You ain’t never gonna use hunger against nobody (dirt and raspberry jam). You ain’t never gonna stand by and watch somebody starve (lemon soap and bowels). Even if that person is a grade-A jackass.

“I,” you start. Force the rest out. “I’ll talk to Shadowheart, see if I can, you know, bleed into a cup or something for you.”

Something nameless flashes behind his eyes. It looks a lot like anger.

“I will have to decline, I’m afraid,” he says. Spreads a hand over his chest. “I’m touched by your nobility, truly, but I do believe that if we’re to be ‘putting distance’ between ourselves, I’ll be finding my meals elsewhere. Unless you have an objection? Want to spare the lives of goblins and mercenaries you were going to blow up anyway?”

Heat rises in your face. Part rejection, weirdly, and part shame.

“I have no objection,” you say.

“Well. I guess that settles it.” He stands, dusts himself off. There’s something wrong with his sleeve. It’s slashed open. Y’all haven’t been in a fight recently, so where…? “I’ll see you around camp, then.”

You can only nod and watch him walk off towards his tent. Catch Wyll giving you a sympathetic wince and Karlach studiously keeping her head down. Because ain’t no secrets in a camp full of fucking magic people and magic fucking hearing.

It needed to be done. For you, and for the group. It was best to handle it before it got messy. Cut that connection before it could tie you down too much. That’s the safe way.

Even if it hurts.

***

Y’all walk for days. Up into foothills, until the sea y’all crashed near is a distant, glimmering band through the trees. Birds chirp and a crow caws, but it’s quieter than it should be.

Y’all head inland, following a stream. You pass more abandoned luggage, broken down or overturned wagons. All signs of bad shit happening.

The bad shit makes itself known when you come up on a broken bridge and the rank stench of carrion wafts over you.

Astarion has been keeping to the back of the group. The last day, he’s fallen quieter than usual (the others don’t seem to have the patience for his chatter, aside from Wyll, who seems to be needling him) (you glanced back and the man stood straighter and winced).

You’re pretty sure it’s either late spring, or early summer. Cool at night, and the further up you go, the cooler the occasional breeze is. But there’s a hint of muggy in the air, and it don’t do any good for the bodies waiting for y’all.

What the fuck is up with this place and bodies left out to rot?

“You know,” you say to no one in particular. “I read one historian who said the surest sign of an empire in decline is an inability to keep the dead outta the streets.”

It was a funny book about historical plagues (you went down a long and winding rabbit hole of historical plague nonfiction for a while; something about reading up on people who got it way worse than you made your shit seem manageable).

“That’s an interesting theory,” Gale says. His hands twitch; if y’all weren’t trying to hike past what’s got to be five dead people and make it to the walls of a village up ahead, you know he’d be taking notes. “Unfortunately, we’re in a bit of no-man’s land, as it were. I can assure you, the streets of Waterdeep are clean enough you can actually walk down them.”

It takes you a minute to mentally amend the, “And not have to clamber on top raised sidewalks to avoid a slurry of horse and human shit.”

“Hey, Blade, you’re from Baldur’s Gate, yeah?” Karlach says. “I ain’t been back there in a while; how’re the streets now?”

Wyll hesitates. He’s wearing that chagrined expression you’re starting to recognize. The one where he wants to say something all upstanding, yet know he can’t.

“They were decent enough last I saw them. Though my information might be slightly out of date.”

Astarion is from the Gate (as you’re noticed some of them call it). He’d know. But while you’ll toss him a “good morning” or “pardon me,” y’all ain’t really on chatting terms. Nothing more than polite courtesies.

But that means you walk in silence more’n not. You don’t got nobody else to bounce your less than savory ideas off of (not that you needed to the last few days). But y’all had started joking. And it ain’t the same as talking history with Gale, listening to Karlach’s greatest bar fights (though that is fun), or Wyll spinning tales about some of his own shenanigans.

You think about breaching that wall of silence. Just a pinprick. Ain’t no harm in asking a question?

Except that pinprick opens you up to a vacuum, and that vacuum will try to suck you and everything else into it.

No. It sucks, and it’s awkward, but this is for the best. The goblins can’t be far, now. Y’all can get in (somehow), find the druid (you’ll work on that once you get the layout), and he can pull them brainworms outta you (the fuck happens after).

You…got no idea what happens after.

The metal flask with your soul in is sits between your tits, tied to a cord looped over your neck and secured against you by the stays. Good thing about being heavier is you got enough squishable flesh to sort of pack in there without anybody noticing.

But after all this…if you find somebody to latch onto—Gale, maybe Wyll—you’ll have a whole lifetime of guarding that fucking thing. Always. Forever.

You can’t let your thoughts start down that particular shit chute. You focus on that village.

Which, as y’all get closer, is eerily quiet. It’s cool enough you’d except a tinge of woodsmoke—people need fire to cook here, after all. But there’s nothing. No voices, no kids shrieking and laughing, no dogs or horses or hammers or nothing. As y’all reach the gates—busted open and hanging from one hinge—y’all look up a narrow main street that disappears up a hill and, presumably, ends in a town square. Two-story houses line each side of the street. All quiet. All rotten; ruins sagging on their frames, one of them overgrown in ivy, the other with the windowsills lying in disintegrating piles beneath the warped windows.

“Uh,” you say.

Right as Astarion wrinkles his nose. “Does anyone else smell goblin piss?”

Which is apparently some kinda bat signal for said goblins to pop outta the ruins. All of them armed. All of them snarling at y’all.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[wylde-shipping]

Your.... "Yandere tendencies"?

WARNING: there's some pretty violent and sexually explicit stuff in here, though it does fall short of what most would consider "gore", except for the dude who is already dead and being actively kicked into a garbage bag. Viewer discretion is advised.

All Might couldn't keep the smirk from his face as he watched his precious pet kick the thug he'd just finished murdering to death into a large black trash bag. This bastard had been particularly annoying, but he was glad to see his little Wylde had been up to the challenge.

"Stupid little bitch... Teach you to mess with my honey bunny... Fucker... Little-dicked ass-munching sunnova..."

The blonde chuckled. "Here, pet... Leave the trash alone."

The younger man quickly turned, practically running over to his partner. The vigilante saw the brightness of his counterpart's eyes and the almost feverish flush of his cheeks, and knew he was in for a treat, licking his lips.

"D-did I do good...?"

"Beautiful work, my sweet little pet..." All Might murmured, smirking at the shudder that lit through Wylde the second his large hands touched that hot ass. "Don't worry, darling... That man won't touch my things again."

"Good...! No one can touch things You don't want touched...!"

"Good boy... You know that also includes you, correct?"

Wylde shivered again, eyes practically crossing as he drew in a shaky breath. Maiming enemies always seemed to put the boy in an oddly euphoric state... And despite the blonde's best intentions, it was so fucking hot to exploit it.

"Y-yes Sir...!"

"Good..." Damn, his pants were getting uncomfortably tight. He knew he could make it out the door and to their apartment rather quickly, but... This was a good opportunity to reinforce that this was welcome behavior. "Be a dear and lock the door, doll."

Watching Wylde practically bounce to the door, locking no less than three deadbolts, the vigilante couldn't help but fondly remember someone else. The same person... Indistinguishable in both body and soul... Yet so overwhelmingly different in the mind... And the mind was what mattered here.

Wylde returned giddily, looking up in a mix of awe and nearly orgasmic glee.

Good.

"Lay down," he said to his younger partner, undoing his belt slowly even as Wylde complied.

He wanted to savor this. To draw out the tension. To keep those amber-hazel eyes wide and needy as long as possible before overstimulation took hold.

All Might freed his cock, stroking himself gently as he pointed at the dead body. "Do you see that, there?"

A nod.

"You did good work. You obeyed my orders perfectly. You didn't hesitate, and you neither shied away nor went too far... You're such a good boy. If something similar happens again, I want you to know you'll be rewarded for playing your part."

He saw the brunette shiver and wanted so badly to give this young man gentleness. To give him love, and devotion, and comfort. To give him peace...

But this was not a world in which he could afford to be soft with the man he loved.

He kneeled between Wylde's legs, unceremoniously yanking open is clothes and kissing him as roughly as he knew the kid would expect. He longed for more. He longed for less. But not here, and not now. He got to work, forcing noises out of the younger man that no one else would ever hear.

"Say my fucking name!"

"T-Toshinori...!"

"Who owns you?"

"Toshinori does!"

"Who do you kill for?"

"I kill for you!"

The older man smirked. "Good boy."

Wylde gasped, his back arching as he came undone, Toshinori driving in to the hilt and going down with him. Both of them were still for a time, kissing almost sweetly as they both came back to their senses.

The vigilante recovered first, fixing his pants and helping Wylde up off the bloody concrete floor, petting him gently. "Good boy... Not let's get you home and washed up. The help can take care of this mess.

The brunette looked up at his hero with awe in his eyes, following obediently, and not even sparing a glance for the corpse that had been so bothersome a few moments before.

[someexistite]

Autistic Rant about a sign

Oh hey, it's you again! Wait, you're not ____? Well... shit. Anyways, I went to the antique mall the other day and found this thing that set off my autism.

This is not a sign. This is a travesty. We do NOT make signs like this. It is INCORRECT. Do NOT do this. This is why we can't have nice things.

There are so many god damn things wrong with this sign.

For starters, here's what the sign looks like in its natural habitat.

It's tiny. It is microscopic. From what I remember, it was sized somewhere between a standard license plate and a motorcycle license plate. In other words, very small. According to the Standard Highway Signs (SHS) manual, Sign lettering should be no less than 3 inches tall. Given that a standard license plate is only 6 inches tall and this sign is smaller and has a massive white rectangle in the middle, I feel safe in saying that the text size is too small.

Speaking of the massive white rectangle, why the hell is it there? It serves NO purpose. The sign would've been just as garbage without it, you don't need to separate those two lines of text, especially since you didn't bother putting a white outline around the sign, and you definitely don't need an oversized hyphen in there, so why is it there? It's just a waste of space.

Come to think of it, why isn't there a white border on the sign? Was there really a reason for this sign being so small? Also, why is the text white? It's on an orange background, shouldn't the text and all that be black.

(pause)

WHY THE FUCK IS THE SIGN ORANGE??? What the hell did you gain from that? Those fuckers down at not Kleem Inc so why the hell should I care who made the sign Incorporated LLC know DAMN well orange is for construction signs and construction signs ONLY. You couldn't go with a white sign? There's plenty of similar signs in white! Or at least a blue one? The blue has local precedent as an "END [administrative division] MAINTENANCE" sign!

I'm surprised they used the correct abbreviation for "maintenance." At this rate, I'd expect it to be shortened to "MAINTE" or some garbage.

In summary, this sign sucks and it should've never been made. It's microscopic, the wrong colors in every way, poorly designed, and rage-inducing. I would be happy it's no longer in use, but it means some poor soul is gonna take this sign home, not knowing the sins it has committed. It's also twenty fucking dollars, like, really? There were full-size stop signs for the same price at that booth! Why would I choose Pain and Suffering: The Sign over a stop sign? There were so many other, much more substantial signs at that booth for less.

If you notice that I keep changing who I'm referring to between "them" and "you", please stop noticing it.

kk bye thanks for coming to my autism talk

[iliiuan]

Babylon 5 S1E10 Believers

Every Alien of the Week ™️ looks like a Cardassian on this show.

"In my culture, sharing my feelings with a stranger would bring great shame, but since you're not from my culture..."

I hate this debate. Fucking antimedicine religious freaks. You are not chosen. Your child is not special. Your child suffering is unnecessary. Cutting him for surgery does not make him a food animal. Your moral base is garbage and I hate you for it.

Ivonova. You do not knit.

Hoo hoo hoo, doc is taking no prisoners with his colleague.

Aw, doc gave the kid a placebo task. That's so sweet.

Lady doc doesn't believe in providing emotional support to patients.

The legal realities of medical ethics. Delicious.

Ooh, Ivonova gets to play with the toys this week. Finally Sinclair is letting someone else do the exciting work.

If you cut him, he loses his soul. Wait, are they going to murder their child to prevent his spiritual death?

Oh. They're going to the commander. My bad.

I really don't understand how there's not a laproscopic procedure for this disease.

Ha! G'Kar isn't interested. You forgot to make it benefit him. Rookie mistake.

Londo's pretending to be sympathetic is hilarious.

Kosh doesn't even pretend sympathy 🤣 "The avalanche has already started. It is too late for the pebbles to vote." Someone's butthurt about getting medical treatment, I see.

"You're refusing because of your beliefs?" Lady, that's what this whole fiasco is about, isn't it? You are the one refusing because of your beliefs. Delenn is simply not getting involved. "Whose belief is correct, and how do we prove it?"

Earth Central won't even get involved. That's rich.

Wait, why you comparing yourself to Pontius Pilot? Dude chose to release the nastiest criminal instead of the political target. That's decidedly not what you're doing.

I like this kid. He sees through the doc's placebo egg.

I guess the kid can share sacred knowledge with the commander?

How very American of you, Doc. I believe, however, that you have misinterpreted the first amendment.

Ooh, doc. Are you operating without consent? Dangerous.

You really thought lady doc wouldn't have your back?

Ivonova is also disobeying orders, I see.

Oh shit Ivonova. You poked the hornet's nest, didn't you?

Who's going to raise this poor child now, doc?

Uh oh. What happened lady doc?

The parents are oddly... placid. What are they up to? Yeah. That was ominous.

Fucking psycho parents. I hate you fuckers. "He's just a shell." No, he's not. He's your child, and you killed him.

Ivonova got to be the minor hero at least I guess.

Oh, Franklin. Now you know what it's like to work with zealots. You needed to protect the poor child from them. As soon as they called him a devil and pulled knives, you should have known.

[megamangxtheadventure]

CHAPTER 27: FUTURE GENSOKYO

lord goat obsarved the scene as the taliban and nazis where roundering up the human village "take them for reeducation we must cure them of woke and make them think only freedom thoughts" said shadiversity as he sat on his armor horse with knight armoer "we will go back to the glouous middle ages where socity was good and normal" he said thinking about becoming new king like olden days

a man held his sick human wife "please my wife she is sick go easy on us" said the man but shadiverstys second in command MR BABYFACE got real mad and bursted a blood vassel in his head "DID YOU SAY FUCKING PRONONS YOU FUCKER YOU WILL DIE HOW DARE YOU SAY THE PRONONS AHAHGAHAHAHHA!" he screamed and ripped the mans head off as blood and guts was everything and his wife screamed real bad and gfainted

Lord got gotted his xenon men in car robots called gyrozetters "i will have xenon take over the youkai maountion they can not stop our gyrozetter robots" he laughed but then sh adow jumped down and fired chaos spear "you fool working with nazis and the talban they will ensalve this world this is not progress its misery for the sake of it you utter foolish fool!" said shadow pointing at lord goat

shadow fighted them but it was no good as the gyrozetters beat him up "i have a way to deal with you MORBUS ENGINE B EAM!" said the eraser queen who had soul eraser mind control vr set on and the beam blastered shadow sending ihim into the time vortex.

THE FUTURE OF DARKNESS

shadow woke up in gensokyo but it was grim and ruin as all the woman and youkai where now slaves under the nazi taliban government "what has happen is this future" said shadow with ask

as he went into town the woman where in handmaider tale outfits and shadow saw reimu but older "come along wife of doomcock" said a guard and he whipped reimu

going into town shadow was then covered in solder guards "you are not a religion you are not conforming you are a rebel!" pointed a man and they takened guns out

"just greaT" shadow said and started to fight them with cool moves "CHAOS KICK!"

before bad guys could reinment the rebels had come and opened fire "shadow we need to get out of here we knowed you where coming due to the tablets of time" said the lead as they runned away.

at a cave the leader took her hood off and it was an older mariasa krismas "its you the witch girl " shadow said.

"i was once called wife of Desantis" she looked at the floor "you see after you vanished they bringed osama bin ledin back to life then bill cihiper used an anti magic field generator to kill all magic so when they had armys of nazis and taliban with guns we gotted over runned and the woman became slaves" marisa shed

"but what happen to megamangx and the others??" shadow said.

"they summoned an army of sonix.exes they destoryed the outside world so the illuminati had to colonizie gensokyo as the only safe place becuse of there hurbis and now everything is lost and depressingly horrible" marisa said.

a door opened and it was standing there it was a bearded jon arbunkle and HAT KID "Jon its you!" shadow sad with happy "ive been fighting a while but this kid here they wanted to meet shadow this is hat kid they have helped us a long time" said jon

"i am from another time and place i have come to fixing the timeline shadow you where meant to help megamangx stop the bad future and gorefield you need to go back and stop gensokyos fall it is the key" said hat kid and she took shadow into a garbage

THERE WAS A FIREBIRD CAR THERE WITH COOL CONTROLS "this is the chaos firebird gyroketter is has an omega sigma morbus engine and can send you back to the past you must stop the illuminati from rebuliding osama bin ladin and help megamangx get his mage forms" hat kid said

there was explosions As a group of russianb nationalists lead by pizza boy was there "you sure want to mess up our good future can't let you do that get em boys" said pizza boy as the russians shooted ak47s at hat kid as she took over a 100 bullets "ah get into the time car hurry" she died

"NOOO!" said shadow as he jumpe dinto the firebird and escaped driving into town as he runned over doomcock and over 20 bad guy guards "i need to turn out the time controls" shadow inputted the date and entered the time vortext

BACK IN PRESENT SDAYT

the firebird appeared and turned into robot and punched the xenon gyroketters real hard "I'M BACK BITCHS" SAID SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG and lord goat was scared "IMBOSSBLE I SENT YOU TO THE BAD FUTURE" he said "AND I CAME BACK!" shadow said and his gyro robot kicked him in the face

it was THEN MEGAMANGX ZANE YUKARI REIMU PATCHOLOI REMILIA FLANDERS KOISHI AND SATORY WHERE THERE "we have the power of mages the power of mages of old and uniting we stand against you GEWT OUT OF GENSOKYO YOU FASHIST BASTARDS" megamangx said and they all fired an ultra masterspark at the gyrozetters and shadibery and the taliban blowing them up "such power NO I DO NOT WANTING TO BE DEEAFTED I WAS GOING TO BUILD KNIGHTS AND CASTLES LIKE OLDEN DAYYYYS" and he turned into atoms

"the only olden days are you" said yukari.

shadow was happy as rouge was there too "Megamangx we needing to talk i saw the future and it was bad"

to be continued

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine

Before The Downward Spiral catapulted Trent Reznor to stardom there was Pretty Hate Machine. NIN's debut brings synthpop sensibilities into the world of industrial music. Poppier and possibly more accessible than future records Pretty Hate Machine feels like Reznor's most honest work. Just some teenage angst yelled over chunky synths and drum loops. Even on his debut Reznor shows a real talent for arrangement.

Diana Ross and The Supremes - Anthology

Ok so compilations are kinda the bane of my existence for the purposes of this list. Obviously I love Diana Ross and The Supremes. From now on if you see a compilation from Motown records on here just assume my rebuttal is the Hitsville USA: The Motown Singles Collection 1959–1971 comp. That all you need, it's a perfect compilation.

Roberta Flack - First Take

Ooh what a fucking voice. So good, so beautiful. The whole album sounds like it was recorded in a smokey nightclub. It's so natural, so warm. And the dynamic range is great. Flack goes from low whisper to a pained shout with such ease and such grace that you would be forgiven for not realizing how much skill it must take. And the way she can just bang out a chord on the piano for emphasis and go back to mellow plinking. Aaaaaaa I'm inconsolable. 😭

Paul and Linda McCartney - Ram

Before becoming a banal idiot for dads to masturbate to, but after being a banal idiot for 60s teens to masturbate to Paul McCartney had an actual solo career. Most of that solo career also sucked, but his second solo outing is an unusual thing. It's a very good album. Just absolutely standing in it's own merits. Ram is free and jaunty, filled to the brim with tunes that delight. McCartney seems to have finally made the album he had always wanted to make.

The White Stripes - Elephant

Jack White is not John Lennon. I don't even know why he wants to be when The White Stripes are at their best when they are emulating 60s American garage rock, not britpop. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to acknowledge how essential Meg White was to that sound. This album is really great btw, I just can't hold back with Jack White. The dude bothers me. I promise I will do it again when one of his pithy solo outing inevitably makes this garbage list. Elephant is a fantastic minimalist approach to garage rock though. Highly recommended.

Otis Redding - Complete & Unbelievable The Otis Redding Dictionary of Soul

If Booker T. and the M.G.'s where the backbone of Stax Records then Otis Redding was pretty much the rest of the skeleton. Redding's soulful crooning dances deftly through the sounds of the greatest musicians to play in the M.G.'s lineup.

Bad Bunny - X100PRE

At first glance Bad Bunny's debut seems to be a fairly typical trap album with a strong Latin influence. But any further analysis reveals a wide variety of influences from the worlds of hip hop, latin and electronic music. The synthesis makes for an album that is both cohesive, but also varied enough to stay exciting start to finish. Probably one of the best examples of pop trap I've heard.

Alice Coltrane - Journey Into Satchidananda

Alright which one of you fuckers at Rolling Stone have been peeping my personal top albums list? Featuring Pharoah Sanders on sax and Rashied Ali on drums this album is perfectly designed to appeal to me specifically. Sax and harp float almost aimlessly through a world of thrumming bass and barely restrained drums. The peace within the tension is some of the most beautiful that the jazz world has ever seen. And when all instruments occasionally let loose it just puts that peaceful tension into perspective. A perfect album. 11/10. One of my top ten jaz albums for sure.

Yes - Close to the Edge

70s prog rock was a difficult beast to tackle. Whether you consider it a testament to artistry or pretention is a matter of perspective. Your mileage may vary, but Close to the Edge is so tightly composed and unusually engaging that I think complaints of pretention are going to find it difficult to find footing. This album is a pretty pure expression of musicians trying to hit the limit of their capabilities as artists. And hit it they did. Drummer Bill Bruford actually quit the band after this album citing stress from the recording sessions!

[paige-from-my-book]

I would literally sell my soul for a half-decent live action CDAD movie

[olderthannetfic]

I'm gonna say it. I fucking hate "legal readers" with all my fucking heart, soul and body. All of them can step on legos thrice a row and cry about it.

You see, sometimes consuming whatever entertainment media in Spanish is a fucking pain in the ass, because foreign corporations take their really long time to bring to us, Spanish speakers (specially LATAM ones, fuck Europe), that entertainment media we want to read/watch/listen to. So we of fucking course have to go with the method that all gringuitos in Twitter hate and moan and cry about: piracy. I'll be more specific: fan traslations of manhua. Sorry "legal readers" (I'm totally fucking using this way to call 'em as derogatory), but we read that shit illegally. But I'll be fair, they're aren't always gringos. Sometimes they're latinoamericanes too with really USA-poisoned brain.

You see, a month ago or so BiliBili made a public recruitment for Eng to Esp translators. When we saw this, we teared up with fucking joy. Finally! We can read in our language, in the App/Website! We can support our fave authors and illustrators! But most importantly, we won't depend of shitty business as Seven Seas! We, fans, can and will do the job we love to do because we love manhua! Joy, pure fucking joy.

That, until BiliBili just yesterday (or two days ago) realesed the Spanish version. Legal readers apparently were stupid enough to ignore the fact that since the beginning BiliBili was hiring fan traslators and fans in general for the job and when they saw that a lot of people and groups (like GreyHands, they made a great fucking job translating MDZS to Spanish, I'll be forever grateful) that did those illegal translations were NOW doing it LEGAL, they started a war.

"How DARE BiliBili to NORMALIZE illegal translations??? How DARE BiliBili to give job to those horrible bad BAD people who MAKE authors SUFFER when they translate illegally???? How DARE they to make the illegal legal????". They wanted to boycott BiliBili Comics for THIS. They started doxxing and harassing the people that now are working to translate manhua to Spanish (specially one specific person who said that they translation will be also uploaded to TMO [the MangaDex for Spanish speakers] besides BiliBili). But y'all want to know the best part? Those damn legal readers fuckers went to KOREAN authors and cried over this. Why? I think that even God doesn't know the answer, but the Korean authors also started the dumb as fuck discourse about this saying as well "how DARE BiliBili do this????".

Like. My good pendejos imbéciles, can y'all hide better your classism? Please? As a nice suggestion.

Piracy is the only option when corporations ignore your fucking existence until you start being loud enough for 'em to care. And sometimes is the only option when the corporations now know your existence but are absolute GARBAGE and want to abuse and do a really poor job. We LATAM, as a whole continent, are very poor. Things that bring us joy are expensive, we have to fucking survive but we still have the DAMN RIGHT to enjoy WHATEVER we want. And this includes manhua, donghua and danmei novels. And is also true for whatever people in whatever country that is poor. But those legal readers just HATE the fact that we can still ENJOY things. They hate that we can enjoy manhua in our very own language for free. I don't care what you pay, good for you that you can do that and you'll still have money to eat and pay rent and do other things, that's your problem. Good for you, truly. But this isn't everyones life. Why y'all legal readers hate the fact that FANS are working free for FANS to bring 'em joy? If I had enough money to survive AND buy things legally (implying that corporations treat the authors good and they don't steal absolutely anything from 'em) I'd do it in a heartbeat. Without doubt. But I can't, because I don't have that money but I have the right to be happy for a few minutes/hours. (And please don't fucking start the "Local Library Discourse" in the notes because I'll throw legos at y'all who do because gringos love every damn time to bring this up even tho you could be talking about a total different and unrelated subject.)

I'd hate to hate the fact that other people can enjoy things and be happy and find a job when they're poor or when they just want to be nice to poor fans.

--

People are quite dumb about piracy. They believe corporations' crying about how every illegal watch/listen is a lost sale, but it never is, even in rich countries.

[the-cult-of-russo]

gotta know how u think billy would be as a dad with his kids :D

I had so many requests for Dad!Billy headcanons 😭

I hope you're ready for this chaotic ramble.

Please remember this is my Billy I'm writing

-

You know those parents who take like a million pictures of their kid and show them to everyone? The kind that talks about their kid nonstop to anyone who'll listen? Their family, friends, the poor random old lady at the store that just wants to buy some damn milk.

That's Billy.

He's such an unbelievably proud parent, his pride for his kids knows no bounds. It doesn't even need to be some kind of milestone worth celebrating, everything his kid does makes him proud. You better believe when his baby has an explosive crap and ruins their clothes, he's boasting about it the next day to Frank and the guys at Anvil.

-

He's incredibly protective. Murder is a possibility if his kids in danger. He wants nothing more than to keep his kids safe. If they're being bullied, it takes all of his willpower to stop himself from kicking the kids ass for doing that to his kid. He's not above picking a fight with the bullies dad though if they don't get their little shit head in check and also making it known to the principle that this shit won't fly with him.

~

"Mr Russo, I don't think you understand how serious this is. Your son broke a kids nose," the principle mutters with a glare.

Billy tilts his head, regarding the teacher with those unsettling eyes that has the old man squirming in his seat.

"You’re damn right he did," Billy replies seriously, a proud tone to his voice. His dark eyes cut to his left where his son is, practically his double. As Billy smirks, unable to help himself, his son wears the same one although he's lowering his head to hide his amusement.

"We don't tolerate that behaviour here, Mr Russo," the principle huffs. Billy's eyes harden then as his eyes narrow, sitting forward in his chair just the right amount to be imposing. The second the man leans back he knows it worked.

"You know what I don't tolerate? My kid bein' bullied. You assholes won't do shit to stop it, so I say let the little fucker get a taste of his own medicine. Serves him right for messin' with a Russo," he smirks wickedly.

~

He teaches them self defence, wanting them to be able to look after themselves if it ever came down to it. Naturally, for their 16th birthday, they're gifted with a big ass knife.

-

Billy as a dad is so stupidly soft.

We all remember the scene from the show, right? Where he's in the hospital with his mom and he says;

"Maybe you did me a solid, you know? I mean, the way I see it, you want weak kids, give 'em everything. But if you... if you want 'em strong... treat 'em hard."

When he has a kid of his own he realises just what utter garbage this is. The idea of all the shit he's been through making him into the tough son of a bitch he is today is born from trauma that he still hasn't dealt with. The way his brain tries to rationalise what he went though. To make it make sense instead of it being so goddamn senseless.

But if he's honest, more than he'd like to admit, he finds himself wondering just what his life would have been like if he grew up in a loving home. What it would be like to feel wanted and cared for. To rise to the top being helped and cheered on by others instead of clawing his way there with bloodied and dirty fingers, the weight of the world bearing down on him as he's beat down at every turn.

He never wants his kids to feel that way. Not even a fraction of how unloved and unwanted he felt. He does everything in his power to make sure they know just how much he cares about them. There's literally nothing he wouldn't do for his kids. They could turn up at home one day and confess to a murder and Billy wouldn't hesitate to ask where the body is so he can handle it for them.

-

Billy is ridiculously sentimental when it comes to his kids. Drawings go up on the fridge and when a new one takes its place, the old one goes into a box of many others that he can't seem to ever throw away. He has multiple pictures of his kids at his office, even some framed cute drawings they did for him. He's kept all the mementos from the pregnancy, birth and onwards. They're his little treasures.

-

Billy is super supportive of everything his kids do. He makes sure they get a good education but he never pushes them to do something they don't want to do. Despite the large college fund he's got for them, if they choose not to go to college, he doesn't pressure them. Instead, whatever hopes and dreams they have, he does everything in his power to support and help them. Whether that's moral and emotional support, money or even breaking a few jaws of people standing in their way.

-

Let's look a little bit at how he is throughout some of the ages of his kid.

Billy with a baby is a sight to behold. No one has ever seen Lieutenant William Russo so goddamn soft. Once he's got hold of his baby, you've got no chance of getting them back off him. You'd have to fight him. He adores holding his little one close, soaking them in. He's constantly holding them no matter what he's doing and baby carriers and wraps are a godsend to him. You'd heard about them from a friend and told Billy and you better believe by the time the baby's born that he's an expert on all things baby wearing. He's a perfectionist and carrying a baby wrong can be dangerous. He makes sure he knows how to do it right.

Just as he has little affectionate touches for you, he has the same for his baby. His large hand stroking their tiny head and little hair. His finger stroking their chubby little cheek. He's a tactile person and touch is grounding for him. It soothes him to do so with his baby and reassures him they're really there and that they're okay.

He's super attentive. Of course he works a lot but as soon as he becomes a dad, he doesn't stay late anymore and makes sure to have days off. The second he comes home, he's making a beeline for his baby, scooping them up with a grin. He loves to read to them, something that continues as they grow up. His weekends used to be restful or if he was feeling like a masochist, he'd work from home. But now weekends are his time to shine. By the time you wake up on a Saturday morning, he's already up with the baby, making you breakfast as he's got the baby attached to him via baby carrier.

As his baby grows into a toddler, each milestone makes him tearful and full of pride. He kisses any booboos that happen and he's constantly playing with his child. He has a pretty silly side to him that most don't get to see. Making his kid laugh and smile brings him the greatest joy.

He loves taking his toddler to the office with him. Everyone dotes on his kid and treats them like royalty.

When they turn into a small child, he watches with a proud smile and amusement as his kid wants to fight with his men, watching them 'beat' the shit out of them. The guys at Anvil are more than happy to very dramatically go down, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree when the tiny Russo grins smugly at their 'win'.

Their first day at school and Billy's a mess. It's such a turning point and he doesn't know how to deal with how fast their growing up. But every achievement at school, even minor ones, and he's showering them with praise.

He encourages them to work hard and as soft as he might be, he is still the boss. He makes sure they do their homework and don't fall behind on their studies.

One thing Billy loves is teaching his kids stuff. Whether that's mundane stuff to help with school or teaching them shit he knows like survivalist things, because you can never be too prepared, right? He loves helping them with school projects and answering any questions they might have about one of the many things he's knowledgeable about.

When his kids moves onto those hard teenage years, the ones where everything feels so dramatic and world ending, he's a little tougher when it calls for it. Billy is no novice to rebellion, he has a rebellious streak of his own and marches to the beat of his own drum half the time. He respects that. What he doesn't respect or tolerate is behaviour that's going to fuck his kid over in the long run or self sabotage. He will be firm and a hard ass if he needs to be to keep his kids on a path where they don't get hurt or ruin their life.

Billy has a zero tolerance policy on drugs. After the shit with his mother, he won't budge on this. If he finds out his kid is dabbling in drugs, they're grounded until they're old enough to move out.

-

No matter what age his kids are, Billy loves them immensely. He wants to be the father he wished he'd had growing up and he pours all of his anguish and pain from his upbringing into it. Channeling it into the purest form of love for his kids. To break the curse that had hold of him. He won't perpetuate the cycle.

Being a father brings him a sense of completeness and peace he didn't think was possible for him to achieve. It fills the void that's been eating away at his soul from his lack of love as a child and he loves every second of being a parent. Even the hard moments.

-

Bonus:

The Russo's and the Castle's go on monthly camping trips together. Billy loves the outdoors, the mild survivalist feelings he gets from it without the real danger. He loves taking his kids there, teaching them everything. In his role as dad and uncle, he sits around the camp fire at night, the light of the flames dancing along his face as he very theatrically tells the kids a spooky story.

You and his kids are his immediate family but the Castle's are his family too. So he really loves it when you all get to spend time together like that.

[lubdubsworld]

Madeira.  ( Taehyung x OC) Part 1/2

Genre : Angst, Sexually Explicit Content. 

Kim Taehyung x OC 

 Cop Au! 

Married Taehyung x Oc! ( Estranged ) 

Cop Taehyung! Bartender Oc ! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N : This is my spin on the brother’s best friend trope. I wrote this for @ladyartemesia​ Who made the amazing banner for the fic..

Because of one of her posts :D :D But I hope all of you enjoy it. 

Also listen , i was supposed to write a simple brother’s best friend fic , maybe playful fluff and mild angst and some smut but  this thing snowballed into a plot monster and now here we are. 

This is part 1. 

Part 2 soon :) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So... that husband of yours is still missing, huh?" The man leaning against the bar smelled like sewage. 

There really was no other word for it. 

He smelled like he’d been drenched in the water that usually ran down the streets, whenever the heavens opened and poured a fucking deluge on us. Like he’d taken a soak in the disgusting broth of decaying produce, discarded animal entrails and everyday garbage. You know, the kind of stuff you find in the market street of a small town.

I ignored him, exhaling sharply and dragging the rag across the counter again, this time with a little more force behind it to make up for the urge to wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck. 

Not the man leaning on the bar that is.  

The man who had abandoned me. 

Kim fucking Taehyung. 

My breath shuddered out of me ,  a headache blooming inside my skull at the very thought of him. it was kind of unwarranted, I guess because it really wasn’t perfect Kim Taehyung’s fault that his wife of five years and seven months hadn’t seen him in ...well, five years and six months. 

Fuck. 

But see he wasn’t missing from my life by design. 

He certainly hadn’t intended to leave me alone because , well for one, he loved me. and two, his best friend aka my big brother Park Jimin would skin him alive if he tried something like that. 

They were best friends, bosom buddies since kinder garten and the only time they’d ever fought was when Jimin had walked in on me choking on Kim Taehyung’s dick in our coat closet at the age of seventeen ( 19 in Taehyung’s case) . 

Taehyung had sported a black eye for two whole weeks. 

So you see, Taehyung wouldn’t just leave me without reason, not unless he wanted to be castrated by my brother. 

No. 

The reason Kim Taehyung wasn’t around was because he had taken up an assignment, an undercover assignment a month after our wedding. 

An assignment that was supposed to last two months. Except it hadn’t and now, it had been a whole five and a half years since I’d seen the man I loved. 

Kim fucking Taehyung. 

See, Taehyung was a detective. 

A brilliant, A- class detective in Seoul PD’s Narcotics Division and he had a reputation. 

 A reputation as one of the most ruthless, merciless men on the force. 

Taehyung had a mind that worked like no other, somehow able to predict exactly how drug dealers moved, how the shipments were going to be smuggled. He could tell where the deal was going to go down, what kind of security measures they would be up against and the most intriguing of all :  just what drug a person had taken, simply from staring into their damn eyes .

 It wasn’t uncommon for his cop buddies to comment how lucky the country was, that Kim Taehyung had chosen to be on this side of the law . 

So Kim Taehyung’s reputation as a brilliant detective was well earned and that was why,  when people heard his reputation and  then  met him, they were always stunned. 

Because, for someone with such a terrifying aura , Taehyung looked deceptively.....well ethereal was the word. Beautiful was another. So fucking gorgeous  he could make angels cry. 

But Taehyung didn’t just look like a fucking angel. He acted like one. He acted like he had been sent on earth, simply to fight every bad guy in the city and while I had been proud and amazed and suitably enthralled with his prowess in the beginning, the fact that he had chosen to just leave me , really fucking hurt. 

It hurt that the boy i had grown up with , the boy who had been my first everything hadn’t thought twice about leaving me behind. About leaving everything we had spent a whole decade building , behind just because he couldn’t control the urge to save the fucking world.

Every damn time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The water in my parents’ home was often murky and I had to let it run for a few minutes, before sticking the bucket underneath the tap. I watched the water turn clearer, cupping my palms underneath the flow watching it run clear. I nudged the bucket with my foot , under the tap and the sound of the water hitting the cheap plastic filled the cramped bathroom, loud and jarring. 

I leaned against the chipped blue tiles, fingers shaking as I clenched them into fists. I had moved year about nine months after Taehyung had left, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon and it became hard, paying the rent for our modest apartment in Itaewon. 

Jimin had offered to help, offered to let me move in with him and his wife Irene,  but he had been newly married as well, with a baby on the way. And i just couldn’t do that to him. I’d called my parents, explained that Taehyung and I were taking a break and could I move in for a while?

My parents had been stunned. 

A break after ten months of marriage? what had happened? 

I’d kept my mouth shut because everything was a security risk. I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t cry or complain or seek comfort in my mother’s gentle words. Instead i’d spent the days, locked up in my childhood bedroom, pouring over my journals, my keepsakes and photos, reliving the years I’d spent, loving and learning and cherishing Taehyung. 

First kiss in his garage at the age of fifteen  , laughing over a failed skateboard trick. How he’d grinned at me, watching me whine over the scrape on my knee, how he’d stared up at me through the sweat damp bangs on his forehead as he’d knelt on the floor, sticking a bandaid over the scrape and then instead of moving away as usual, he mad moved  in,  brushed his lips against mine, stole the breath out of my lung , the soul out of my body . 

And Those first two years of denial....when he would practically run out of the door if i so much as breathed in his direction. 

“You’re Jimin’s sister.. I can’t...” 

God often he’d said that...over and over again until the words lost all meaning for me. I had wanted him so blindly. Had fought any girl who so much as looked at him and every one of my girlfriends  knew to stay clear off Kim Taehyung. 

The whispers, anytime someone showed an interest on the most handsome boy in school. 

Yes, he is gorgeous, yes he is smart and amazing but he belongs to  her.  She’ll kill you if you come near him. 

I’d enjoyed it. I enjoyed knowing that everyone could see that he belonged with me, even if Taehyung himself didn’t . 

And me at seventeen, watching him talk about leaving .... How he was going to join the police academy and become a cop and that had been the final straw. I’d all but barrelled into his home and kissed him. 

Told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going anywhere without telling me he loved me. And if he didn’t , I wanted him to swear he would never regret it. That when , years from now, he saw me walking down the aisle with some other guy, he would stand in the wedding party, next to my actual brother and not regret that he let me go. 

Taehyung had kissed me back with fervor that still made my lips tingle. 

And that last week before he left, when we had spent all our waking hours, either having sex or thinking about having sex. How we’d christened every surface of our parents’  house , our rooms and finally the coat closet after one particularly tense game of truth and dare. 

That was a memorable one because my brother had walked in, just as Taehyung had gripped my hair hard enough to bruise and shoved his ‘ big by any standards’ dick straight down my throat. 

Talk about embarrassing. 

And it had taken a whole lot of begging and cajoling and promises to not have sex till we were married, for my brother to come around.

But he had. 

And for five glorious years, I had been Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend. Watched him climb the ranks at seoul PD with a speed that was amazing. Watching him become the youngest detective on the force... watched him carve a reputation for himself in the Narcotic department.

And one evening, having dinner in a posh restaurant with our family and friends, I had watched him get down on his knees , a small velvet box in his hand  eyes practically sparkling with love as he stared at me. 

“The only one you’re walking down the aisle with is me, sweetheart.” He had rasped, over the raucous cheering of all the most important people in our lives. 

But the joy had been short lived. 

Just a month after our wedding Taehyung had taken up the assignment. Just two months, he had promised. I’ll be back in two months baby. I love you so damn much, you know that....

I had said it was okay. it wasn’t but i had said. Had promised to wait for him. To keep myself safe. 

Two months had turned to two years. Two years had turned to three. Three to four and four to five. 

Lonely. I was so lonely. 

Even living with my parents, the solitude had been unbearable. The ache from not being touched by him . The ache from not being able to touch him. From not having that boxy smile to greet me in the morning. Not running my fingers through his hair as he left hickeys all over me. Not having him over me, staring down at me,  eyes heavy and hard as he fucked into me.

I missed him so fiercely it was a physical ache. An intense , hollow ache filled with anxiety and longing. 

And terror.

Oh god I was so terrified. 

The fear was all encompassing somedays and I had to bite down on my pillows just to stop myself from giving in to hysteria. To start sobbing, uncontrollably because the thought would come out of nowhere, bowling me over in it’s intensity. 

The burning fear that perhaps he was hurt. 

That perhaps he was no longer of this world and i would never even know. That perhaps right this moment he was lying in some abandoned warehouse, bleeding out , thinking of me, wishing he could see me and he was just going to die alone . And I would never know. 

I spoke to Jimin on the phone to Jimin every weekend. But sometimes, once every three or four weeks, Jimin called in the day. 

We would exchange small talk. 

And then he would say, 

“Had a glass of madeira last night.”  “ spoke to Taehyung’s handler last night. 

I would grip the phone hard, brace myself for the good , the bad or the ugly that was to come. 

“Tasted great. Was thinking of you.”  He’s fine. He misses you. He loves you. 

“Okay. Thank you Jimin.” 

And that was that. 

The sound of the water spilling over drew me to the present and i blinked, staring down at the water flooding the bathroom, the drainhole struggling to get rid of the excess water. 

The house was deserted. 

My parents had died a year ago. And now it was just me. 

I swallowed , shaking my head before grabbing the hem of my dress and stripping. 

Shower.

And then bed. 

Alone. 

Always so fucking alone. 

The phone rang then and i groaned. 

God, I hated having to leave the shower to attend calls but the reception here was terrible and I could only get calls if I left the phone on the small table by the bed. 

Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my torso, I stumbled out into the dimply lit bedroom, reaching for my phone. 

I couldn’t recognize the number and I frowned, before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Yerin?” 

Every hair on my body stood on end and my body curned hot and then went icy cold really really fast. 

“T-T-Tae??” I whispered, gripping the phone so hard my fingers went number. 

Five years later and his voice was so different. Deep and raspy and exhausted and I couldn’t make sense of it. Was this real? Was i having a fever dream? Had i fell in the shower and hit my head? 

“Hey baby.” He chuckled. 

“Is this real? Is it you?” I whispered, confused and my head spinning and my vision fading a little. 

“Yeah. “ He coughed a bit and i panicked. “ I’m back. “

I froze. 

“Wh-What?”

“I’m back. I’m home. I’m .... I’m back.” 

I stared at the wall, too stunned to process what I was hearing. 

I could hear his voice through the phone but I couldn’t respond. 

Staring at the screen , I hung up. 

And then, I finally gave in to the hysterics. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[aforrestofstuff]

@kaincuro hates when I have correct opinions on animals so I’m making this just to piss him off:

Forrest’s bottom five animals of All Time:

Number five: dogs with blue or light-colored eyes.

NO!!! Put those motherfuckers AWAY!!! Dogs should have big ol black voids of nothingness to reflect the elevator music perpetually playing inside their heads, not beady blue uncanny valley type shit!! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, ASSHOLE. STOP PEERING INTO MY SOUL. YOU LITERALLY CANNOT COMPREHEND ANYTHING. Your eyes are human but your minds will forever remain dog, choose one you dumb bitches because you can’t have both.

Also a lot of dogs with blue eyes are huskies and if I was making a Top Five Bitchiest Animals of all Time list, they would be number one.

Number four: fish with bigass heads for no reason.

For having such large brains these dumb shits probably don’t even know they’re alive. Look at those dead, lifeless eyes. What are you using all that headspace for, huh megamind? You gonna invent something new or you just gonna float around in some saltwater until you get eaten or die? All those nerve endings wasted on nothing. You sicken me. You’d probably talk like that annoying ass white kid with glasses from the Polar Express if you even COULD talk through your mouth and not just use it to inhale water and eat.

Number three: my dog pinto.

He either smells like straight dirt or baby powder, take your pick. He attacks anything that moves, except people because he’s an attention whore. He barks at everything. He farts while he sleeps and then blames it on me. Either that or, he climbs into my bed just to stand on my chest and kick me in the dick. His parents are a Yorkshire terrier and a hot pile of garbage.

Number two: pandas.

An embarrassment to bears all over the world. Polar bears can swim miles in icy waters, grizzly bears are expert foragers, black bears are the same thing but also really cute—and what do they all have in common? They’re excellent hunters. Meanwhile all THESE FUCKERS can do is eat bamboo stalks or whatever and they still SUCK AT IT. Pandas die all the time because they fall out of trees and are just generally incompetent little losers who still need help making themselves a plate of food as grown adults. The only thing they’ve got going for them is their cuteness and even THEN it’s limited because they can’t fucking wash themselves. See that motherfucker in the first picture? Why is his torso brown. His fur is supposed to be WHITE. TAKE A SHOWER, YOU DIRTY SHIT.

Number one: Sphinx “cats”

I put “cats” in quotations because yeah technically they’re felines but they’re really just ballsacks with legs. How do you feel petting a bony, wrinkly skin tag? When they meow for food, does it sound like Gollum mumbling about his precious? It makes me upset that logically these are the only cats I can own if I don’t want to suffer from allergies 24/7.

Whenever pinto takes a bath and gets out all wet and flat, he looks kinda like these fuckers for all of ten minutes and it’s the ugliest shit ive ever seen. The difference is, Sphinx “cats” are like this ALL THE TIME. How do you look at them and not want to put a paper bag over their ugly little wrinkly heads. Awful creatures. I’m so sorry God has done this to y’all.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Bo Sinclair x F Reader (NSFW)

           Summary: Bo wants you to pitch in a little more. He gets more than he bargained for.

             Warnings: Dubcon, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, slapping, degradation, facial, swearing, objectification of reader, alcohol use, mentions of death and violence.

 ~~

             “Put this on.”

             You drop the rag in your hands to catch the yellow floral dress before it smacks you in the face. You glare up at Bo from you spot on the linoleum. Your knees ache. You’d been scrubbing grime off the kitchen floor for two hours.

             “What for?” you ask, bracing a hand against the counter to heave yourself to your feet.

             “It’s time you start pullin’ your weight.” You look around you, flabbergasted. What had you been doing all this time, if not ‘pullin’ your weight?’ Cooking and cleaning all day, every day wasn’t enough for him?

             You keep your mouth shut. The answer is obvious. Of course, it isn’t enough. Nothing would be. If it was up to Bo, you would have been dead the first day you walked into this God-forsaken town.

             “Can I at least know what I’m supposed to do? You know, so I do it right?” You adopt a sweeter tone, hoping to quell the sour mood Bo always seemed to be in when he spoke with you.

             “Two college assholes campin’ nearby.” Bo adjusts his hat and crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame before continuing, “They’ll be needin’ a fan belt. Lester is on his way to get ‘em. Need you to bring one up to the house for Vincent while I take care of the other one.”

             What is it with Bo and fan belts?

             Then, the gravity of what he’s said hits you. Instantly, you pale. They’ve never had you participate before. You can’t do it, no way.

             “Bo—

             “You’ll do this, or I’ll make sure the next one on Vincent’s table is you. Got it?” He snarls, leaning forward and shoving a finger in your face. You clench your jaw, hesitantly nodding. What choice do you have?

             “Make yerself decent and meet me at the shop in a half.”

**

             You understand why Bo chose this dress. It’s tight, flaring out at the hips and hanging just halfway down your thighs. Your breasts are almost spilling out the top too. It shouldn’t be hard to lure a ‘college asshole’ up to the house looking the way you do now. You wonder which poor soul wore this dress before they ended up in the museum.

             You think you might be sick.

             As you walk to the shop, the oppressive Louisiana heat beats down on you, making you squint and pant. Sweat beads along your forehead and chest before spilling into your cleavage. You adjust your outfit, hoping to hide a little more skin. You feel exposed. The old wax woman across the street peers disapprovingly out her window. You flip her the bird. Poor old bitch.

             You round the corner to the little gas station, heart hammering. Lester’s truck isn’t there, but you can see three shadows inside the darkened shop window. You fluff up your hair, sucking in a huge breath. You can do this. You have to do this. You don’t have a choice.

             “Hey, Bo, need anything?” You adopt a honeyed southern accent, resting your hands on your hips, your face breaking into a smile. You hope it looks genuine.

             The three men inside turn to look at you. All three are apparently struck dumb by the sight of you. As you lock eyes with Bo, you fight the blush creeping up your neck. Baby blues rake over your body before snapping back to your face. He grins.

             “Hey, sis. Just in time.”

             Sis, huh?

             “These boys need a V-belt. I don’t see any here. You remember if we have any up at the house?”

             “Yeah, we just got some in today,” you chirp, reaching behind you to pull your hair off your dewy neck.

             “Would you mind takin’ one of these two up to the house to get it? I ought to go over cost of repairs here.”

             “Can do.”

             “Dibs!” shouts one of the boys, a tall, lanky thing wearing the stupidest sleeveless shirt you’ve ever seen. ‘Party with Sluts’ it reads. Okay, maybe this won’t be so hard. His friend punches him in the arm and he laughs before sauntering over to you, motioning for you to lead the way.

             “Hey, behave yerself. That’s my lil’ sister.” If you didn’t know Bo, you’d think he was teasing, messing with the kid, but the smirk curling across his face tells you he’s dead serious. No part of that smile reaches his eyes. You do not envy the kid you’re leaving here with him.

             “Bo! Knock it off,” you giggle, pretending to be embarrassed.

             If you were to look back on the conversation you had with the nameless guy you’re leading to his death, you wouldn’t remember a word of it. Your blood rushes too loudly in your ears to hear half of what he’s saying. You just giggle and play with your hair every time he speaks. It seems to be working.

             “Uh, kay, wait here, I’ll just run upstairs and get the belt,” you say a little too loud so Vincent can hear. You leave him at the bottom of the stairs, careful to accentuate the sway of your hips as you climb the steps so he’s distracted.

             Vincent wastes no time. As soon as you make it to the top, you hear a strangled shout, a heavy thud, then nothing. You don’t turn around.

             The second you make it to your room you peel the dress off your sticky skin and hurl it across the room. Desperately, you fight the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and the burn in your throat. You had to. You had to. You can’t die yet, not after everything you’ve been through.

**

             You carefully level off a cup of flour before tipping it into a bowl on the counter. You do the same with the baking powder, salt, baking soda….

             It’s three something in the morning. You haven’t been able to sleep all night. So, you do what you always do when you can’t sleep: You bake cookies.

             You gather up the butter wrappings and head for the trash can. As you move, you catch something out of the corner of your eye and jump in shock, gasping and bracing a hand against your chest.

             Bo leans against the doorway, beer in hand, mechanic suit half off and tied around his waist. He chuckles quietly when you grasp the counter and take a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

             “You scared the shit out of me,” you chide, tossing the wrappings into the garbage. You glance down, noticing your bare legs. Right. You’re only wearing a pair of panties and one of Vincent’s flannels. You didn’t think anyone else would be awake at this hour. Three AM usually found Bo passed out, Lester camping somewhere in his truck, and Vincent toiling away in the basement.  

             “I’ll go put some pants on,” you mumble, moving to leave the kitchen, but Bo extends his arm across the doorway to block your exit.

             “Nah. You look good in my shirt,” he comments, mouth quirking up at the corner in that stupid self-satisfied smirk he always wears. You glance down at the red and black checkered flannel, then back to Bo again.

             “I thought it was Vincent’s. I must have got it mixed up in the wash.” You swallow, looking away. You don’t like how he’s looking at you, like a wolf eyeing an injured lamb. He sets his beer on the top of the fridge.

             “No harm, no foul,” he murmurs, dropping the arm from the doorway to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. You jerk out of his reach, backing away. He follows leisurely, pressuring you until you’re backed up against the counter. He doesn’t stop advancing until his face is inches from yours.

             “Bo,” you mutter, a shaky breath leaving your mouth with his name. You say it like a plea.

             “Yeah?” he purrs, placing both hands on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He leans in closer, so close you can smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath.

             “Please,” you whisper, voice trembling. He groans quietly under his breath at that.

             “Hmm, say that again, darlin’.” You shake your head, tensing when he reaches up to glide his fingers, feather light, across your jaw. He continues, “I didn’t like the way those fuckers were lookin’ at you today. Not. One. Bit.” He taps you on the nose in time with the last three words.

             “Well, they’re dead now, so….” You trail off, your hammering heart trying to force its way into your throat.

             “Mmm hmm,” he hums, “You did good today, baby. Real good.” You swallow, face heating up, a jolt of arousal sparking between your legs. His voice, the fingers stroking along your collarbone, his words; they’re having an effect on you.

             “Bo,” you beg again, more insistent this time.

             “You don’t like this?” he asks, stepping forward so you’re pressed flush against him. The heat of his body is overwhelming.

             “N-no, please, s—

             Your plea is cut off by the gasp that sneaks from your throat when Bo shoves his hand into your underwear and drags his fingers along your dripping slit. He brings them in front of your face, showing you how your slick shines in the low light of the kitchen.

             “I think you’re a fuckin’ liar,” he purrs, grinning wider, “Open your mouth.” You bite your lip and Bo strikes, gripping your jaw hard. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart. You won’t like it.”

             Slowly, you part your lips, opening wider when he shoves his wet fingers in your mouth.

             “Clean ‘em off. That’s a good girl.” You roll his fingers and your own salty taste around on your tongue, sucking on them when he demands it. That pulls another low groan from him.

             “I knew that mouth was good for somethin’.” He pulls his fingers from your lips and pushes them back into your panties. You inhale sharply and bite your lip again when his deft fingers find your clit, circling slowly, torturously.

             “Fuck, you’re wet, baby girl.” The words are whispered against your lips, his warm breath washing over your face. You let out a shaky breath, forcing your hips to stay still and not buck like you want. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

             Bo chuckles against your mouth before dragging your underwear down your legs, kneeling as he goes. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder. Vincent could walk in any minute, or Lester, you’re right there in the open—

             Bo dives in, sucking your clit into his mouth and humming. All your thoughts derail, crash, and burn. Your eyes roll back and you grip the edge of the counter with one hand, the other flying to your mouth to muffle your wanton moan.

             He laughs, dragging his tongue up your slit and lapping at your clit, slow, deliberate licks with the flat of his tongue. You can’t help it this time; you grind your hips into his mouth and he grabs a handful of your ass to pull you closer. He slips two fingers into your sopping cunt, curling them and making you whine pathetically. Jesus Christ, you’re already close.

             “Bo, Bo, Bo, I’m…I’m gonna—

             And then he pulls away. Your frustrated gasp is silenced when Bo slaps the inside of your thigh, hard. It makes you yelp and try to squirm away. He stands and grabs your jaw roughly, squeezing painfully.

             “Uh uh, I don’t fucking think so. Yer gonna cum on my cock and nowhere else, understand?” You nod, skin feeling like it’s on fire. You haven’t been touched like this for six fucking months. You worry you’re going to be consumed by need. You’ll say anything he wants.

             “Oh, ya’ want that now? You want me to fuck ya’?” His lips are wet, shining with your juices, and inches from yours again. He grinds his hard, clothed length against your hip.  

             “Yes,” you slur. It’s hard to talk with his hand squeezing your face so hard.

             “You forget your manners, sweetheart?”

             “Please, Bo, please,” you beg, resisting the urge to jerk your head out of his punishing grip.

             “Good girl,” he praises, spinning you around and bending you over the counter. He tugs your arms behind your back, gripping your forearms with one hand while he frees his cock with the other. It slaps against your ass, hard and heavy.

             In one, smooth motion, he lines up with your entrance and slams home, impaling you. You shriek behind grit teeth. Your walls spasm around the sudden intrusion and you wiggle your hips in an attempt to adjust to the stretch.

             “Ohhh fuck, that’s tight,” he growls in your ear, giving you no time to catch your breath before he’s ramming into you. The wet smack of skin against skin echoes around the kitchen. Every thrust pulls a strangled moan or whimper from your throat as you desperately try to contain your sounds of pleasure and pain. Bo laughs cruelly, hot breath puffing against your ear.

             “What’s the matter, baby? Don’t want anyone hearing you get fucked?” He punctuates the last word with a particularly vicious thrust. You mewl, and Bo wraps his free hand around your throat, pulling until you arch uncomfortably.

             Despite the mean treatment, Bo still manages to push you to the brink of orgasm again, his cock battering that perfect spot within you. You can’t speak well at this angle and with his hand tight around your throat, but he feels you beginning to clench around him, feels your legs trembling violently.

             “Yeah, cum on my cock, sweetheart, c’mon, give it to me, fuck yes, yes, yes—

             You bite your lip so hard you taste the coppery tang of blood on your tongue. Hot pleasure curls through your core, numbing you as you tumble over the edge into bliss. Bo groans in your ear, releasing your neck in favor of digging his nails into your hip.

             “’M gonna cum. Yer gonna—f-fuck—gonna get down on your knees and open that pretty mouth, understand?” Dazed, you nod. Bo pulls out and as you turn around, he shoves you down to your knees so hard they crack against the linoleum. Your pained grunt is interrupted when Bo fists a hand in your hair, yanking your head back.

             “Open yer mouth, stick out yer tongue, yeah, fuck—

             His voice is tense, clipped, his hand pumping his slick cock. He utters a broken moan and you snap your eyes shut as he paints your face, lips, and tongue white.

             “Swallow,” he orders breathlessly. You do as your told, forcing the bitter taste of him down your throat. He hums in approval, releasing your hair. You wipe your face on your sleeve and crack your eyes open to peer up at Bo. His cheeks are flushed pink, sweaty hair clinging to his forehead, chest heaving.

             “Goddamn, you look good like that,” he says, mouth turning up in a crooked grin. After tucking himself away, he helps you to your feet and grabs a nearby washrag to blot away the cum staining your skin. Your legs wobble, your crimson cheeks growing redder the longer he grins at you. Bo smooths your hair back, tucking it neatly behind your ears.

             “There. Good as new.” He swats you on the ass, making you jump in surprise. “Now get to bed. I expect breakfast in the morning, as usual.”  

             What a bastard.

[vukovich]

WIP Poll Update

You didn't know you were participating in an experiment, but you were. My theory was that people would vote on WIPs that are close to being done. Hypothesis confirmed (Bill Nye party horn).

Some projects have been deleted due to lack of interest.

Per a complicated point system and ranked choice voting:

First place: 23%

A Dog Named Chai Drarry, some Harry/Charlie Fluff/Angst/Domestic/HURT/Comfort/Smut Demisexual Harry having immigrant kid feelings and bonding with a grey-eyed dog. Currently 20k and growing, estimated 80-100k.

Second Place: 14%

Garnishes II Louis Weasley(veela)/Draco. SMUT. Rivals to... rivals, but with sex. And a Toblerone. Currently 5k, probably 12k finished.

Third Place: 11%

Fist-Full Drarry Smut Just a casual backroom fisting in a vintage confessional between school rivals. Take that, Potter. Don't mind if I do. Currently 2.5k, estimated 5k maybe. Art is required for the ending. LMK if you take unmarked bills.

Fourth Place (Tie): 10.7% each

Machine Gun Astoria Drastoria/Dark Drarry dubcon Action Astoria's covered in tattoos and takes zero shit. She and Scorp are Naginis. Her husband goes missing. She never did trust that Parseltongued Auror bastard around her husband. 30-50k The first chapter is done. I intentionally withheld this information, because I'm a dick.

And

Bodies in Motion Drarry Crack/Smut/Light Angst Harry's ripped as fuck and has casual body image issues and no social life outside the gym. Draco is an unattractive nerd who is vaguely aware his brain requires a body to function, but would rather build Teddy a Hogwarts Minecraft realm than acknowledge his own corporeal form. But he's weirdly good in bed. Currently 5k, maybe 15k total.

Fifth Place (Three-way Tie): 8% each

Puer Delicatus Drarry, Theo/Draco, spoilers/spoilers Angst/Smut/Hurt/Comfort Hmm... I'm going to go with "Culturally-normalized sexual abuse of young men in wizard society" for a summary. Everybody has PTSD. Arthur is the dad everyone needed. Harry just keeps punching people who care for him. Draco is 150% not okay. Theo is a deity who will dick you down for your own good. His wife said it's fine. 20-40k. This might will get hot-written daily chapters with reader steering via Tumblr like It'll Come Back. This will hurt far more. Block #puerdelicatus now.

Services Rendered Drarry, Harry/Many Thinky Smut/Angst Power bottom Harry gets kicked out of his favorite dungeon. Draco drags him to a formal D/s dinner, and Harry's very soul revolts and tries to leave through his pores when presented with domestic duties. He cries himself to sleep naked in a collar on a pile of coats because he's a shitty boyfriend. Currently 7k, probably 12k total. (There's a finished craft project for this one.)

Draco Malfoy: International Monster Fucker Dramione, Draco/Monsters Crack/Smut Draco's official title is "Beast Husbandry Specialist". Hermione is his supervisor. She needs detailed reports from his assignments. So detailed. Exactly what were the girth of those tentacles, and where did they go? How did the, uhm, specialist feel about it? HOW many genders of centaurs are there? You did WHAT to them? She will take these reports to her office and read them alone now. No calls. 15-25k

Sixth Place: 3.5%

Quicksilver and the Dead Drarry Pastoral horror?/Action/dubcon Draco has to learn to survive lifetime confinement to the Manor grounds alone. Lots of world building. Accidental hereditary necromancer Draco versus surprise villain. 60-80k There's actually about 10k done of this, but I didn't mention it to test the "We just want the WIP that's almost done" theory.

The Garbage Can: 0%

Written History Immortal Drarry Action/Angst Harry is a soldier from Palmyra during the 273 AD assault on the Library of Alexandria. Draco is an exiled Spartan-turned-scribe. They keep running into each other at major world conflicts, always with Harry on the wrong side of history and Draco recording it. Until Harry gets it right. 20-40k The first chapter is done and will be posted and consigned to a one-shot.

Codename Snitch Drarry Action/Smut/Angst Harry is an undercover agent/pro Seeker. Russian mafia things happen. 10-50k. I have no idea, because I'm not sure how this plot ends. Hereby declared dead. RIP: Tattooed Durmstrang crime lord/gay savior Draco. *pours vodka on the curb... which looks a lot like a martini glass.* Sorry, @wheezykat

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S2 ep 3 reaction

I have no idea what's happening

Ok this is a pretty clever intro

Also I guess the main antagonist this episode is a bdsm, emo, vampire... named Jurgen

The look Sam gives Max when he's having his vision 💗💗💗

Lol Sam doesn't question the zombies until the Commissioner calls

"You know what they say about guys with big feet. They have big thongs."

Sybil is so done with Abe. Have a feeling they'll get back together tho 😒

Poor Leonard

Bosco's is closed :(

Sybil actually seems happy to see the boys 🥰

Sam thought Sybil was becoming a prostitute

"I'm not going back into that closet. Not after all we accomplished."

Don't trust Harry alone with Sybil 😕

Abe is sulking in Stinky's

Girl Stinky asks me to get rid of Abe and I'm like, "anything for you queen" (I don't actually know how to do that yet tho)

Why does Abe have confederate money?

Well, neither Stinky or Abe were helpful

C.o.p.s. once again are the most useful of the minor characters

I don't like the delivery mini game 😒

Superball!!!! My love 💓💘💗

"Superball." *thunder and horse winnie*

Oh hey, garlic cigarettes in the garbage... Sure that's useful considering y'know

Sam honey, why are you putting grave dirt in your coat

Oh, it was a brain... that's worse

Wait, how is the torch lit in a downpour

Oh hey, I figured out the garlic puzzel quick :)

Ah, I can’t take the cigs with me and Max won't eat them

It's nice of Superball to indulge Max by doing the voice

Jurgen is disrespectful. He must die

"I never knew Vampires were so... fruity." "Not all vampires, Max. Just the European ones."

Haha Max is dancing

Oh I can have Sam dance with the zombies

What a bicon, using finger guns

"Okay Jurgen, kill ya later."

"Is that your hand?" "Oops, sorry little buddy."

Haha, Jurgen looked like an idiot while nearly burning alive

Let's make the edges rhyme

Ew he drank Max's blood

Let's grab our cigs and go somewhere

Wait... the studio?

WAIT I thought midtown cowboys got canceled

Oh well.

Ok, apparently it's popular enough in Germany (?) that it's the only one show the studio films???

Oh, I see what I have to do.

And I know how to get the holy water too!

Aw, it gives Max a little halo 😇

Dumb bitch boy intentionally smokes something that can easily kill him.

Love that him drinking Max's holy blood seems to just give him indigestion.

Oh, he actually killed the boys. Now he really has to die.

At least they're zombies?

Zombie Lincoln

The boys don't understand the difference between Stone Abe and zombie abe

I'm going to harass people as zombies

Superball can't understand us 😞

I like that Sam and Max can only communicate in groans

Oh, we can talk to the zombies now.

"But we're the Freelance Police, we can't die!"

I have to get into the VIP lounge

Zombie Abe followed us into the factory

The game is running real slow for some reason 😴

I'm going to restart my computer and see if it'll let me update Steam

Ok, since it was the monster factory that made things freeze last time I'm going to go to the studio and to The Neighborhood first to see if I can find anything new.

Oh, I can’t go to the studio :(

Jesse James hand ran off

The hand has Girl Stinky! We have to save the problematic queen!

Okay, figured out how to get it stuck

Aw, she called the boys her heroes

Sybil completely unaffected by the boys being zombies

The moleman doesn't want us to touch anything haha

Oh I forgot about her soul mater

She just keeps talking to them as if they're not zombies

I clicked on Harry a bunch and Sam just... shoved his finger in Max's mouth??? "What are they doing?"

Ok I don't think I can do anything now so I'm going back to the Zombi Factory

Zombie abe followed us again

Whoa, it's Flint Paper!!!

Aw, he came to rescue Sam and Max 💕

Lol, he shot Abe's brain out

Oh, their souls are in a cage

The souls don't want to go back to their bodies????

Ok got the intenna to charge up the alchemy table

Lol, the boys are so dramatic while bringing the monster to life

"I am... alone." "You got us." "Please kill me."

Aw, we get to introduce him to Sybil

Aw, Sybil defending the Zombie boys from Harry's prejudice 🥰🥰🥰

Oh, we were able to set Harry up as a jerk

Aw, she kicked him out because he was mean to the boys 🥲

Oooh!? Agent Superball X Sybil??? I like!

Ok, got the chocolate, let's turn it to gold.

Oooh! I know how to get behind Flint now!

"Bleh! Flint tastes like cigarettes and cheap scotch."

Oh, so we're just leaving Flint on the ground?

"Wanna play doctor, Max?" "For the last time no-- OH! With the monster, sure."

Yay, monster has a proper name now

Superball thinks sybil is beautiful 🥺🥺🥺

I want him to end up with her not stone Abe or the monster!

Maybe in a fix-it fic

Sybil is a canon monster fucker

Superball is sad 😥

Oh no! She's going back to stone Abe! I knew it was going to happen

Sam and Max blowing kisses Yakko style at the camera

Pfft Girl Stinky is still tied up

Lol, soul Max's reaction to getting sucked back into a body

Also, they switched bodies!?

"Ah, so there's where you keep your gun." Uuuuh

"I bet those candy-assed vampire hunters just don't know how to do it."

Ok that's a pretty cool way to beat him actually

[atinybitofau]

S A N ⇨ mafia au

THE ONE WHERE SAN = SMILEY SATAN

part two

• he watches you.

• and he’s thinking to himself.

• fuck, this dumbass chick really had to be at the right place at the right time.

• he was the most wanted hitman in South Korea

• the most skilled hitman belonging to none other than the top class mafia group ATZ.

• he was trying to fill up his empty schedule that’s all.

• wanted to kill some low life useless fuckers for fun and extra money— why not.

• he never gave a single shit to care about meaningless souls like society’s proper.

• he’s the greatest hitman to ever live?

• why should he care.

• never spent more than 10 seconds looking at a face pretty or not.

• his tongue pokes at his cheek, leg bouncing underneath the tripod of his sniper in impatience before he lets out an exasperated groan.

• “Fucking bitch better move out of my way or I’ll blow her brains out too.” he mutters under his breath.

• he was losing too much oppurtunity.

• “5 seconds, San. Take the shot.”

• “I’m fucking trying! There’s some bimbo in my line of fire and I am not going to waste my time cleaning up her mess.”

• he sighs, finger hovering the trigger counting down from five.

• that is—

• till he stops at three as soon as you turn around.

• you’re gorgeous, he thinks.

• like no one other.

• his eyes narrow and his mouth waters at your beauty.

• special and nothing he’s ever laid eyes on before.

• satan’s gift to him after hard years of working for his ass.

• san’s lips part and he has to look out of the scope for better landscape.

• you smile and he’s shot down.

• he forgets for the last three seconds what he was supposed to be doing.

• “You dumbass. We missed the mark. Now we gotta wait two more hours. You better hope you can sit your cocky ass down for it all cause you are not taking your eyes off that scope, San.”

• with pleasure, he wants to reply to his boss but his finger grazes his lips instead of the trigger reveling on you.

• yeah he didn’t mind.

• fuck yeah he didn’t mind.

• not when you’re on the other side of the scope for him to drool over.

• it bogs him why you were working at that piece of garbage establishment and how he could slither you up his sleeve before he leaves.

• he sits back in his chair, watching you more than his target at this point.

• “San, are you paying attention this time?”

• he hears Hongjoong but he’s more intent on watching you then listening.

• you had curves for days and he couldn’t wait to get his blood stained hands on them.

• “10 seconds.”

• “San.”

• “4 seconds.”

• he packs his sniper, pulling out a small pistol from his weapon bag, strapping on a vest under his business suit.

• “What the fuck are you doing, you idiot?”

• “Gonna get the girl.”

• “SAN IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL—“

• he pulls out his in ear out before his boss could finish and practically runs to the building across.

• he has to get you.

• he won’t be able to think straight.

• wont be able to work straight without knowing he’d see your face every night he comes home.

• won’t kill anyone until he gets his reward.

• “Sir, I’m sorry but you can’t go in there.”

• San doesn’t like to wonder at a pretty face twice.

• at least one that’s not yours.

• he shoots the poor receptionist point blank and half the building with just a little pistol between his fingers.

• not knowing he got the target down in the process.

• but then he see’s you, the lone survivor.

• scared shitless behind your desk with wide eyes and trembling lips.

• “Hi.” he manages to say from his salivating mouth.

• so that’s what people’s faces look like, he thinks. two eyes, one pair of lips just like his.

• he’s never looked at another person for this long before.

• he’s thinking you’re the only person he’ll ever look at for that long. the only person he’ll ever give it worth.

• “Um, hi.”

• you kind of think he’s nice..

• for smiling at you before killing you.

• you think he has a nice smile for a psychopath.

• and that you might not want to haunt him later for killing everyone you hated in a span of 2 minutes.

• “You’re very pretty.”

• you let out a faint laugh of disbelief.

• there’s blood on his cheek, a smoking gun in his hand, and a heart okay with killing innocent lives.

• but he has the time to call you pretty instead of put a bullet through your skull?

• “I’m San.”

• “Y-Y/n.” you mumble tripping over your feet. “Ow. Sorry I’m y/n.”

• he smiles again this time teeth in full view.

• he may be a bad bad criminal but

• he’s got the most sweetest smile in the world.

• “Sorry for killing all your friends, sweetheart.”

• you blink shaking your head at the assassin. “S’okay. They’re not my friends.”

• “I’m glad. They were chumps anyway.” the corner of his lip curls up. “You got a family, y/n? Actual friends?”

• he approaches you.

• you take a step back not knowing what his intentions are.

• his gun seemed noncompliant by his side and you suddenly feel like he’s not trying to threaten you.

• quite the contrary actually.

• you have a weird feeling that maybe this charming assassin was trying to impress you.

• “My family.. my family don’t care what I do. My friends are just people I talk to every now and then.”

• in other words, you had nobody.

• but in no means were you trying to make a good impression.

• you just didn’t want to get killed.

• “I’m gonna give you two choices.”

• “Okay.” you were very obedient and it showed with your answer.

• you weren’t the type of girl who overstepped boundaries.

• he liked that.

• a little too much.

• “You’re either going to come home with me like a good girl— a very nice pretty girl I must add and stay with me until I die,”

• you swallow because you don’t necessarily see a way out.

• “Or I could just shoot you and leave you here with the rest of these dead useless no good rotten excuses for human bodies.”

• let’s see.

• spend your entire life damned to a hot psychopath killer who obviously thinks of you as the prettiest thing on the planet.

• OR

• die with a bunch of losers at a piece of garbage establishment where you never really belonged in the first place.

• “You.”

• now he feels like a twisted version of prince charming.

• he gets to run away with the girl.

• “I think you have the prettiest eyes.” he says as he rushes to you to hold your hand. “The prettiest smile.”

• he reminds you of a lovesick puppy when he looks at you.

• “You don’t talk to a lot of people do you, San?”

• he’s sweet to you.

• it bogs your mind how this sweet little bean was actually a heartless sociopath.

• “No.” he answered you proudly.

• you breath a soft chuckle and he thinks it’s the most precious thing in the world.

• if something were ever able to kill him, it’d definitely be you.

• “You’re gonna love me.” he says rubbing at the back of your hand, eyes dawned in obsession. “And I’m gonna love the shit out of you too. Is that okay, sweetheart? Are you okay with that?”

• “Y-yes.” you’re flattered and a little bit terrified. “Yeah, yeah that’s okay.”

• it’s not like you have a choice.

• his smile almost makes you convinced he’s not actually a cold blooded killer.

• anyone who would’ve saved you from that crap life of yours?

• you probably woulda loved anyway.

• but you definitely weren’t complaining that it was Choi San that ended up saving you.

• he’s just an assassin by day and your boyfriend by night.

• who knew the devil could be so sweet?

@atinybitofau

[alicemarion]

OUTLAST :  THE  MURKOFF  ACCOUNT  (  PART 2  )   sentence starters !

this  prompt  was  made  using  dialogue  from  issues  #4 ,    #5  and  #6  of  outlast :  the  murkoff  account  by  red  barrels .    feel  free  to  edit  any  of  these  to  make  them  more  suitable !

“  _____  wasn’t  fucking  around  about  disappearing .  ”

“  our  chances  of  finding  a  lead  in  this  are  vanishingly  slim .  ”

“  what  you  got  there ?  ”

“  i  hate  it  when  they  have  families .  ”

“  since  when  did  _____  hurt  women  and  kids ?  ”

“  sorry ,    that  was  in  bad  taste .  ”

“  he’s  been  gone  for  a  while  now .  ”

“  i  saw  him  back  just  last  night .  ”

“  i  saw  him ,     standing  right  over  there .  ”

“  drove  my  dogs  batshit ,    which  is  weird .  ” 

“  they  always  used  to  like  him .  ”

“  _____  said  _____  was  here  last  night .  ”

“  it’d  take  us  days  to  find  him  under  all  this  shit  if  he  was .  ”

“  guess  we  better  get  started  then .  ”

“  it’s  garbage .  ”

“  is  ...    is  some  of  this  garbage  moving ?  ”

“  ants .    the  place  is  infested .  ”

“  what  do  you  mean ?  ”

“  emailed  him  ants .    not  the  strangest  thing  i’ve  seen .  ”

“  these  look  like  passwords .  ”

“  ouch !  ”

“  little  fucker  bit  me .  ”

“  black  ants  don’t  bite .  ”

“  motherfucker !    motherfuckfuckfuck -  ”

“  they’re  all  over  me !    jesus !  ”

“  not  there !    not  there !  ”

“  water !    water !  ”

“  goddammit !    make  room !    i’m  coming  in !  ”

“  fuck  this !  ”

“  it’s  not  working !  ”

“  we  need  fire !  ”

“  take  your  fucking  clothes  off !  ”

“  now  do  me !  ”

“  got  anything  i  could  wear ?  ”

“  nope .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  am  i  gonna  do ?  ”

“  hey ,    that’s  the  same  homeless  guy .  ”

“  that’s  not  possible .  ”

“  i’m  sure  it’s  him .    he’s  following  us .  ”

“  hey !    stop !  ”

“  where’d  you  go  ...   ?  ”

“  you  work  for  _____  ,    don’t  you ?  ”

“  ...    who  are  you ?  ”

“  i  believe  you’ve  heard  of  me .  ”

“  you’ve  been  following  us .  ”

“  what’s  your  name ?  ”

“  yes .    i’ve  been  watching  you .  ”

“  you’ve  got  something  most  running  dog  mercenaries  don’t .  ”

“  i’m  not  a  mercenary .  ”

“  you’ve  got  shame .   you  know  what  you’re  doing  is  wrong .  ”

“  it’s  a  job .  ”

“  but  you’re  somebody  who’d  chase  after  me  ,    despite  the  fact  that  you’re  injured  and  naked .    who  does  that ?  ”

“  ...    i  can’t  stand  not  knowing .  ”

“  tell  me  your  name .  ”

“  i’ve  read  your  files  ,    _____ .  ”

“  six  years  ago  you  leaked  company  files  and  vanished .  ”

“  been  off  the  map  ever  since  ,    encouraging  other  whistleblowers .  ”

“  you’re  trying  to  destroy  _____ .  ”

“  of  course  i  am .  ”

“  they’re  evil .    you  work  for  the  devil .  ”

“  you’re  protecting  _____ ?  ”

“  you’ll  never  find  him .  ”

“  i  couldn’t  tell  you  if  i  knew .  ”

“  willful  ignorance .    i  remember  that .    almost  let  me  sleep  some  nights .  ”

“  how  do  you  sleep ?  ”  

“  how  do  you  justify  working  for  people  you  know  are  evil ?   ”

“  _____  was  a  pebble  in  a  pond .  ”

“  that  is  where  the  real  sickness  spreads .  ”

“  those  are  coordinates .  ”

“  if  you  cannot  look  at  what’s  there  and  not  eat  yourself  hollow  with  shame  ,    you’re  not  human  anymore .  ”

“  i  need  your  help .  ”

“  i  need  somebody  still  inside  _____ .  ”

“  i’m  not  asking  ,    i’m  telling  you .   you’re  going  to  help  me .  ”

“  ...    i  have  to  do  my  job .  ”

“  what  are  you  ...    the  fuck ?!  ”

“  freeze !    i  said  freeze  ,    motherfucker !  ”

“  i’m  leaving .  ”

“  please  don’t  make  me  hurt  you .  ”

“  he’s  ...    a  monster .  ”

“  what  was  he  shoving  in  your  face ?  ”

“  fucked  if  i  know .  ”

“  let’s  get  you  some  clothes  before  i  get  too  turned  on .  ”

“  dental  records .   my  identification .   he  wasn’t  done  with  me .  ”

“  and  we  weren’t  done  with  him .  ”

“  this  make  any  kind  of  sense  to  you ?  ”

“  nothing  i  feel  good  about .  ”

“  but  at  least  it  closes  the  books  for  now .  ”

“  the  evidence  couldn’t  get  any  more  thoroughly  destroyed .  ”

“  there  is  one  more  thing .  ”

“  nothing  i  know  of .  ”

“  i  wouldn’t  put  too  much  faith  in  anything  i  heard  from  an  animated  pile  of  maggots .  ”

“  maybe  we  should  check  it  out .  ”

“  nah  ,    leave  it  alone .  ”

“  you  should  get  home  ,    spend  some  time  with  your  daughter  ...    make  sure  she  doesn’t  grow  up  to  be  somebody  like  me .  ”

“  he  ain’t  gonna  let  us  get  away .  ”

“  every  step  we  take  ,    the  less  power  he  got .  ”

“  we’ll  get  to  the  wicked  part  of  the  world  ,    and  god  hisself  ain’t  even  gonna  be  able  to  find  us .  ”

“  do  you  know  if  yeshua - ha  nostri  was  a  real  person ?   like  ,    in  the  bible ?  ”

“  never  heard  of  him .  ”

“  when’s  that  book  report  due ?  ”

“  you’re  getting  an  early  jump .  ”

“  figured  i’d  be  too  beat  to  work  on  wednesday .  ”

“  you  didn’t  touch  your  dinner .  ”

“  i  wasn’t  hungry .   it’s  not  like  i  need  the  extra  calories .  ”

“  _____  ,    honey  ,    that’s  crazy .  ”

“  you’re  a  string  bean .    a  beautiful  string  bean .  ”

“  shut  up  ,    _____  ,    god  ...    ”

“  there’s  somebody  messing  with  our  mailbox .  ”

“  your  daughter  is  connected .  ”

“  my  partner  and  i  had  agreed  not  to  investigate .  ”

“  turns  out  i  was  lying .  ”

“  i  hear  you  now .    where  are  you ?    it’s  noisy .  ”

“  sorry  to  interrupt  you  on  a  sunday  ...    ”

“  you’re  not  interrupting  anything .  ”

“  i  was  just  ...    folding  laundry  ,    listening  to  prairie  home  companion .  ”

“  i  don’t  think  i’m  gonna  make  it  into  the  office  tomorrow .  ”

“  i  need  to  spend  some  time  with  _____ .  ”

“  no  worries .    we  all  need  personal  time .  ”

“  fuck  me  ...    no  service !  ”

“  i  guess  the  heat  and  the  sun  got  to  me .  ”

“  heavenly  god .  ”

“  _____ ?    what’s  wrong ?  ”

“  are  they  out  of  hot  chocolate ?  ”

“  multiple  perforations  of  the  intestines  ...    spread  throughout  her  blood  ...    had  to  induce  a  coma  in  order  to  arrest  progress  ...    internal  bleeding  ...  ”  

“  surgery  is  no  longer  an  option .  ”    

“  _____  is  dead .    i’m  so  sorry .  ”

“  aiiee !  ”

“  i’m  so  sorry  honey  ,    i  didn’t  mean  ...  ”

“  we  don’t  want  no  trouble !  ”

“  i’m  just  gon’  take  your  pistol .  ”

“  hey  ,    hey  ,    take  it  easy .    jesus  fucking  christ  ...  ”

“  don’t  you  take  that  name  in  vain !  ”

“  safety’s  on .  ”

“  who’s  the  girl ?  ”

“  jesus  ,    how  pregnant  is  she ?  ”

“  god  have  mercy  on  your  soul .  ”

“  i’m  not  going  to  hurt  you .  ”

“  you  need  helllll  ...    ”

“  mmm - hmm .  ”

“  that’s  all  you  got ?    ‘ mmm - hmm ? ’  ”

“  i  heard  you .   it’s  the  least  crazy  thing  you’ve  told  me  so  far .  ”

“  fair  enough .  ”

“  you  are  in  such  deep  shit .  ”

“  i  know .  ”

“  you  lied  to  me  ,    you  went  off  the  reservation .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  are  you  doing  ,    _____ ?  ”

“  i  fucked  up .  ”

“  don’t  fuck  yourself  any  deeper .    i’m  on  my  way .  ”

“  spill .  ”

“  okay  ,    number  one  ,    you  work  for  _____  ,    not  _____ .  ”

“  number  two  ,    you  don’t  interfere  with  ongoing  experiments .  ”

“  we  only  enter  the  equation  when  the  science  is  done  and  the  side  effects  need  mopping  up .  ”

“  shit  ,    you  don’t  even  know  if  this  is  an  experiment .  ”

“  and  number  three  ,    fuck  you .  ”

“  you  don’t  work  without  me .    we’re  partners  ,    you  stupid  motherfucker .  ”

“  sorr  ...    ”

“  don’t  say  you’re  sorry .    i  hate  that .  ”

“  you  want  the  silver  lining  to  your  shit  show ?  ”

“  you  don’t  suppose  you  brought  me  a  suit ?  ”

“  i  even  brought  you  a  tie .    hope  yellow’s  alright .  ”

“  you  called  it  a  ‘ vision ’ .    not  a  hallucination .  ”

“  it  felt  real .  ”

“  first  rule  in  the  playbook  is  don’t  get  high  on  your  own  product .  ”

“  what  about  brain  injury ?  ”

“  the  scan  must  have  been  corrupted .  ”

“  is  there  more  to  your  testimony ?  ”

“  yes  ,    of  course  ,    excuse  me .    i  was  just  ...    ”

“  could  we  see  those  brain  scans ?  ”

“  they’re  already  off  to  the  lab  ,    but  we  have  copies .  ”

“  evidence  ,    all  of  it .    this  had  become  a  matter  of  containment .  ”

“  we’d  love  to  meet  the  patient .  ”

“  the  little  guy  in  here  has  been  kicking  up  a  storm .  ”

“  is  that  a  tattoo ?  ”

“  a  globe .    no  ,    wheels .    ‘ wheels  within  wheels ’ .    that’s  biblical  ,    from  the  book  of  ...    ezekiel .  ”

“  you  can’t  have  him !    you  can’t .    i’ll  die  before  i’ll  let  you  kill  him .  ”

“  i  seen  the  messenger  and  i  know  i  ain’t  burdened  with  the  enemy .  ”

“  my  blood  is  true  ,    i’ve  sipped  at  the  fountain  and  borne  the  pain  and  marks  of  salvation .   ”

“  you  ain’t  gonna  take  my  baby  ,    you  ain’t  ...    ain’t  ...    ”

“  get  a  doctor !  ”

“  doctor !  ”

“  we  lost  her .    we  need  to  leave  ,    now .  ”

“  she’s  dead  ,    gone .    there  was  nothing  we  could  do .  ”    

“  minimal  footprint .  ”

“  i  realized  too  late  i  was  operating  above  my  security  clearance .  ”

“  are  you  sure  she  was  dead ?  ”

“  yeah  ,    case  closed .  ”

“  it’s  sad .  ”

“  still  ,    i  gotta  get  home .    i  said  i’d  be  there .  ”

“  you’re  a  good  dad  ...    you  always  take  care  of  your  girl .  ”

“  _____ !    you  home ?!  ”

“  you  work  for  us  now .  ”

“  we  didn’t  find  dick .  ”

“  there  we  go  ,    my  child .    every  last  drop  of  salvation .    your  children  are  waiting  for  you  in  heaven .  ”

“  god  does  not  pour  half  measures .  ”

“  the  storm  is  abating .    all  these  undeserved  blessings .  ”

“  he’s  still  not  answering .  ”

“  send  people  to  his  house .  ”

“  they’ve  been  feeding  _____  information .  ”

“  that’s  no  good .  ”

“  i’d  put  my  money  on  _____ .  ”

“  if  we  find  him  ,    i’ll  put  electrodes  on  _____ .  ”

“  how  many  bodies  we  looking  at ?  ”

“  hundreds .    it’ll  take  us  days  to  get  them  all  sorted .  ”

“  lot  of  these  local  corpses  show  signs  of  cyanide  poisoning .  ”

“  god  damn  this  guy’s  heavy  ...    ”

“  that  doesn’t  look  like  cyanide .  ”

“  yeah  ,    a  lot  of  them  got  creative  about  dying .  ”

“  took  a  lot  of  what  killed  her  to  get  the  job  done .  ”

“  last  name  sounds  like  a  crustacean  you’re  not  supposed  to  eat .  ”

“  how  did  you  know ?  ”

“  he  was  supposed  to  be  making  sure  they  didn’t  find  this  place .  ”

“  we  got  one  breathing  here !  ”

“  ‘ and  i  only  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  thee . ’  ”

“  is  that  from  wrath  of  khan ?  ”

“  it’s  actually  book  of  job  ,    by  way  of  moby  ...    ”

“  i  know  what  it  is  ,    you  don’t  have  to  try  and  impress  me .  ”

“  well  ,    holy  shit .  ”

“  his  eyes  are  all  pupil .    completely  catatonic .  ”

“  we  need  to  dig  in  his  head .    don’t  be  gentle .  ”

“  they  rarely  are .  ”

“  there’s  blood  on  the  walls .    looks  like  something  was  written  and  smeared  away .  ”

“  what  do  you  want  to  do ?  ”

“  actually  ,    no .    do  me  a  favor  and  find  his  corpse  ,    because  if  he’s  still  alive  ,    he’s  fucking  dangerous .  ”

“  where’s  _____ ?  ”

“  you’re  asking  the  wrong  question .  ”

“  i’ll  still  help  you  find  the  answer  ,    but  you’ll  need  to  trust  me .  ”

“  dead  ,    twice .  ”

“  how  about  you  just  tell  me  whatever  it  is  you  want  to  tell  me .  ”

“  it’s  not  surprising  religion  would  be  such  an  effective  delivery  mechanism .  ”

“  gods  communicating  with  men  ,    gods  dividing  themselves  into  components  that  men  could  understand .    a  trinity .  ”

“  in  the  name  of  the  father  ...    and  of  the  son  ...    and  of  the  holy  spirit .    amen .  ”