finesuicide reblogged
𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐝, 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 ? i think one bad thing happened and you blame the rest of your shitty life on it. people really buy it, your sad story. but really you’re just 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭.
independent role-play blog for original character ; highly nsfw ; private&selective @artcredit—xizhang
finesuicide reblogged
//. i need some shorther threads. leave a like ( ♥ ! ) for a one-liner.
finesuicide reblogged
vegyta-deactivated20181007
My kink is people underestimating me and ending up wrong and embarrassed
finesuicide reblogged
//. i need some shorther threads. leave a like ( ♥ ! ) for a one-liner.
finesuicide reblogged
violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
Rebecca (1940) dir. by Alfred Hitchcock
finesuicide reblogged
“can you reach behind and get the ketchup bottle from the other table?” she asks, annoyance hinted in her tone, while trying to squeeze out the remnants of what’s left in this one, looking around cautiously because it’s only a bit embarrassing and there’s people watching and she’s been at it for several minutes but with no luck. / open to mutuals.
’ you can reach for it yourself. ’ zoe barnes is concentrated on her deep-fried fries. dipped in a massive amount of mayonnaise. ’ you look like shit. ’ a half-empty can of coca-cola left a few drops of sticky leftovers all around the table. as always, zoe’s sleeve slides right across. ’ you can talk to me, you know ? ’
finesuicide reblogged
“i’m not sure if that’s better or worse” he commented, offering a wry smile. his expression softened as he tilted his head slightly, “you do know if you ever need a place to stay my offer stands.” a pause, “then again this couch might be more comfortable than mine, honestly.”
her gaze steady. focused. not on his features though. zoe’s more interested in the shape of his chest. how would he look naked ? no. she promised herself not to touch a single thing which crawls around the floor of the editorial office.
we’re only humans after all. the new title which highlights zoe’s ipad. she also considers it, how oddly, as the title of her newest novel.
’ so … you’re offering me your own couch. is a bottle of wine also included ? ’ slowly, she slides her naked feet into her black boots. a quick peek at her wrist. she should’ve left thirty minutes ago. FUCK. ’ clark. you’re coming with me. i can’t drive. i just had three long island iced tea. ’ black, leather jacked thrown carelessly around her bony shoulders. ‘ come on ! we have NO TIME for you to decide whether or not your balls are big enough to actually do something with ME. ‘
finesuicide reblogged
myrkvae·.
Paused above a course of apricot Herdwick lamb, Loki has steepled his fingers. The chef’s table at Marcus seats ten, and yet they’ve been granted utter privacy sans the need to demand it. Loki alone appears as to devour space enough for the eight guests they lack; his shadow reaches the far end of their table even in low light. Behind the glossed black bar over his shoulder, the skeleton crew of chefs he’d ask for work silently as they’ve found possible. Nothing to disturb them, she has been gifted his fullest attention, if only for what manifests itself as intrigue. His tongue runs the line of his teeth, and Loki glances the device she’s invasively hung afore him. ‘ I’d say I’ve garnered control well enough. ’
Tsks. Her phone is now perched upon the tips of his fingers, the hand furthest from her. He’d not even reached for it, but eyes it now with disdain. Eyebrow piques. It is a delicate thing, not unlike the notebook she has tucked snugly betwixt her thighs. He’d favour the latter moreso, however. Her phone sits again between them, should she make to lift it again she’d fail. ‘ It’ll record me where it is. ’ A sup of red wine. ‘ Whose word are you more interested in, Ms Barnes? ’
zoe barnes hates london. the city itself doesn’t bother her, though. it’s the constant battle & unexpected storms. her head is spinning around. wild. with no rest … there’s no rest for the wicked. she used to praise this quote. back then, when her bony ass was secured by the washington herald’s desk. the young reporter shared a pale smile, barely noticeable. she hated her life back then as well. maybe it’s not about the surrounding but her as a person ?
hard-glassed windows mute the rainy weather’s symphony. the slow move of her head follows the man’s voice. he’s this type of a man. he doesn’t have to yell, he doesn’t have to move. he barely opens his mouth and the whole room is ready to SURRENDER.
am i going to do that too ? what can i get out of it ? if i smiled would he smile back ? i’m not going to push the boundaries of a possible connection. not without knowing the price of my benefits.
she doesn’t reply to his first comment. a steady gaze focused upon his features. yes, she can feel it too. oversized sweatshirt seems to float around her petite body. no, it’s not the air conditioning. it’s not some random whiff. IT’S HIM.
’ to be honest, i don’t give a single fuck. as long as it’s recording ... ’ bullshit. her answer didn’t convince even her own self. raspy voice, barely finishing the last part of the sentence. she’s not scared. she’s rather … F A S C I N A T E D. with her hangover memory she takes a few steps back. black headphones tucked in her ears. she’s crossing a random street in new york city. a portable, touristic copy of her favourite book surrounded by her forearm. she’s ready to waste her whole day on reading and drinking cheap wine from carton. the same kind of fascination gripped her mind. she was free, she was calm, she was … ALIVE.
a smooth breeze of carelessness brought her back to the Marcus’ table. blow out those sparkles in your eyes, reporter ! you’re not supposed to be fascinated by terror. if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you - now, that’s a new quote.
a sudden grasp around her own glass of wine. red, semi-dry. she swung its edge towards her lips devouring every drop of it.
/whose word are you more interested in, ms barnes ?/ my own, asshole. ’ i doubt there’s anyone around us who’d like to share a comment. ’
i won’t speak as you want me to. not now. give me something and i’ll give ALL OF ME in return. REVIVE ME. put a pen in my hand and let me write again. and i swear - i’ll be the best hunter you’ve ever got.
//. CALIFORNICATION sentence starters (season 1 / part 1) : by @finesuicide
• ‘ ok, big guy. you and me. we’ve never done this before. but … desperate times call for desperate measures. ‘ • ‘ well, here’s the thing. i’m having what you might call a crisis of faith. ‘ • ‘ put it simply, i can’t write, which really kind of sucks. because i’m supposed to be a writer, and a professional one at that, and i can’t seem to be able to produce so much as a goddamn predicate. ‘ • ‘ i fucked up … again, i apologise. ‘ • ‘ well, something tells me it’s not gonna suck itself. ‘ • ‘ does he, you know, go downtown, tour the southland ? go under the hood ? ‘ • ‘ he made me take a shower first. and then he spent 45 minutes trying to find my clit. ‘ • ‘ are you mentally insane ? ‘ • ‘ he’s much like a special-needs person that works at mcdonald’s. ‘ • ‘ i’m late, and i’m sorry, and i’m not wearing any pants, but i would like to invite you to join me. take your pants off and come with me to the pants-off restaurant. ‘ • ‘ wouldn’t you rather expand your cinematic horizons and pick a film that’s based on a piece of literature and not a theme-park ride ? ‘ • ‘ can i ask you something ? why is there a naked lady in your bedroom ? ‘ • ‘ there’s no hair on her vagina. do you think she’s ok ? ‘ • ‘ oh i know that look. that’s the look that shrivels me testes. ‘ • ‘ in what universe is fucking someone when you’re married to somebody else not cheating ?‘ • ‘ imagine my fucking disappointment when you turn out to be the biggest cliche of all, sitting there, googling yourself. ‘ • ‘ cheating isn’t just about fucking someone. ‘ • ‘ i got a dictionary in there that will differ with you. ‘ • ‘ you’re out there sticking your dick in anything that moves, trying to get back at me. ‘ • ‘ you have this gift, this incredible talent. and you’re just flushing it down the toilet. ‘ • ‘ best of luck in your future endeavours. ‘ • ‘ don’t let the door hit you on your soon-to-be-huge ass on the way out. ‘ • ‘ if you’re under the impression that i’m in love with myself, then it’s possible that you are higher than me right now. ‘ • ‘ well, now i’m definitely, for sure, absolutely … not going to sleep with you. ‘ • ‘ i think we can all agree that men are assholes. i, for one, am happy that she prefers the fairer sex. ‘ • ‘ you’ll talk to her, she’ll get pregnant, and then everything will be fine and fucking dandy. ‘ • ‘ i’m fine. i’m disgusted with my life and myself, but i’m not unhappy about that. ‘ • ‘ honey, trust me. getting your asshole bleached would be much more fun. ‘ • ‘ you smell like pussy. ‘ • ‘ i’m thinking about how much i absolutely fucking loathe this city. just as i was thinking about how much i absolutely love it. ‘ • ‘ your assistant makes me want to touch myself in a bad place. ‘ • ‘ a morning of awkwardness is far better than a night of loneliness. ‘ • ‘ i probably won’t go down on history, but i will go down on your sister. ‘
finesuicide reblogged
wenchyfloozymoo
‘ life is pressure. grow up. ’
’ growing up won’t change shit. ’ half burnt corn between the strong grip of her teeth. ’ after my death, though … ’ she left the thought abandoned. let it wander around, like some shit-eating fly which is constantly trying to fuck one of her nostrils. ’ want some ? ’ a huge drop of melted butter slides across her chin. ‘ i’ll still write. six feet under. ruining your lives, motherfuckers ! ‘ a delicate smirk. the corners of her mouth twitched. barely.
//. meme ! ( accepting. ) | @bloodromeo
//. i need some shorther threads. leave a like ( ♥ ! ) for a one-liner.
