@killerpigfarmer / killerpigfarmer.tumblr.com
PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR LUCIUS.
like this for permission for me to tag you in random starters, invade your askbox, send memes, plot, etc., as Lucius Warren, my killer space-lovin’ redneck (available mainly in Modern and Mass Effect verses).
ooc:
If anyone’s still looking for this boy, I’ve moved him over to @pigwithpersonality for the time being! Keeping this blog here and he might return, but for now he’s in a happy home with the rest of my muses.
*Ah, so by that rationale, if a pig had a better per- sonality, he would cease to be a filthy animal.
indie multi-muse, feat. muses from baby driver, american horror story, sons of anarchy, && more. penned by boots.
ooc:
For anyone who’s wondering where the frak I am (???) you can find me mostly on my multi-muse these days, @pigwithpersonality.
ooc:
Hit that there heart for a starter or a plotting thing (new and old friends alike!) and I’ll try to get to them in the near(ish) future.
re: ooc
So signal boost for all you unpublished authors out there...there’s a twitter event going on all day today called #PitMad. You can pitch your unpublished work and agents/publishers/editors from all over are watching the hashtag and itching for new authors. Here’s the official info about it. I’ve gotten in touch with some REALLY COOL publishers/editors through Twitter pitches so I hiiiighly recommend this kind of thing, especially if you’re new to the game and don’t know how to get your foot in the door.
If you have a pitch you want notes on...feel free to message me and I’ll happily take a look at it before you send it out!
ANGSTY TEXTS, BITCH
[text] You should have told me you wanted me out of your life. [text] I should have never let you back into my life. [text] Okay [muse’s name] what’s the deal, pretty sure this is you…listen if you want me to leave you alone, please just tell that. [text] Please don’t walk away. [text] Please don’t do this. [text] When are you going to realize I want nothing to do with you? [text] You want nothing to do with me, I get it. [text] I’m an idiot. You fooled me again. [text] When I think things are about to change … I’m always proven wrong. [text] I just want you to be happy. And you’ll be happier without me. [text] I just hate that someone could make me trust [him/her/them] the way that I did [text] The truth is I’m not over you. [text] The truth is I never really wanted to be with you. [text] I’m seeing someone else. [text] How the hell did you get my number, stalker? [text] You’re so selfish. [text] I just saw you leave with [her/him/them]. [text] FUCK YOU AND YOUR DUMB CUTE FACE
LOVING TEXTS, BITCH
[text] Did I tell you today that you’re the most adorable? Cause, yeah. [text] Be careful. [text] I’m only saying it because I love you. [text] I’m only saying it because I care about you. [text] Okay, I’m bringing coffee. [text] I’m thinking dinner and a movie later this week? [text] Let me take you out, please? [text] Let me make you dinner tonight. [text] I want you to be happy. [text] You’re always safe with me. [text] I can’t stop thinking about you. [text] I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. [text] I know you may not feel like you are, but you are loved. And important. Please don’t forget that. [text] It was so good seeing you. [text] You don’t need this shit. [text] I’ll be there in five minutes. [text] Let me help, please? [text] You’re important to me. [text] Stop falling asleep in the bathtub. You’re going to drown and die and leave me and I’m not having that. [text] I would gladly watch Netflix and eat Thai with you any day. [text] I’d give up my phone charger AND the last piece of gum for you. That’s love. [text] Hey beautiful no judgment but why is there a bucket of KFC chicken in the bathtub??
ANGRY TEXTS, BITCH
[text] If you don’t want me to bust your window, I suggest you answer the phone. Now. [text] To quote Mean Girls, you’re a fugly slut. [text] Are you SERIOUSLY bringing that up right now!? [text] Lose my number, asshole. [text] You’re so predictable and obnoxious. And it’s not only me who thinks so. [text] …The least you could do is answer, wtf. [text] You’re a piece of shit human being and an even worse friend. [text] This is YOUR FAULT. And you can’t even pretend like it isn’t, because you know it is. [text] Why couldn’t you just stay out of it? [text] Holy fucking shit, take a hint, asshole. [text] Go fuck yourself. [text] What the fucking hell is wrong with you? [text] You can take your stuff back as long as I don’t light it on fire first. [text] I have cramps and a migraine so you do NOT want to mess with me right now [text] Bye and have a very fuck you day
SEXY TEXTS, BITCH
[text] Just let me suck your dick and be happy. Let me have this. [text] Why are you so hot…like honestly, it’s not fair. [text] Yeah, you looked good in your [dress/shirt/pants] last night but really, they looked way better on my floor. [text] Come over. With condoms. [text] You should come over, clothing optional. [text] I feel like a nasty slut and I LOVE IT [text] Sorry I got drunk and texted you about my sex life [text] Sex on a rooftop - trashy or adventurous? [text] If you’re not at my apartment, shirtless, in five minutes, I will be personally offended. [text] I don’t think he likes that I’m always sending him pictures of me in my bra but he needs to get it together [text] It’ll be like The Notebook, except with way more of my penis. [text] I didn’t know that all of his brothers would be hot and musically inclined, too. That’s a dick move on behalf of biology. [text] I DON’T WANT YOUR DICK. I WANT BRUNCH. [text] So is it your turn now to pretend like dating someone else would stop us from fucking? [text] I just need some of your time and all of your body. [text] I am available for nakedness [text] I think about [him/her/them] when I masturbate so I guess you could call it love
DRUNK TEXTS, BITCH
[drunk text] So wat are you really over me no w [drunk text] AND I UNFOLLOWED YOU ON INSTAGRAM TOO, BITCH [drunk text] You are my queen and my savior and I love you forever [drunk text] You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known [drunk text] I’m eating macaroni and cheese on a slice of pizza and autocorrect just wrote that text for me pretty much, what’s your night like [drunk text] Listen up slut, you’re one hot piece of ass and if [he/she/they] doesn’t realize it, it’s their loss [drunk text] but what’s the point of a Disney sing off party if you’re not here. You have to be be the Pumbaa to my Timon [drunk text] Can you pls remind me tomorrow of how much of a fool I made myself tonight [drunk text] FUCK YOU YOU’RE GORGEOUS [drunk text] I think maybe you and me should like go out and eat pizza or something check yes or no [drunk text] Please don’t hate me I’m too tired and too dizzy to be hated [drunk text] I hate (him/her) but less when I’m drinking. Thanks, alcohol. [drunk text] Omf g you need to get over here now I think I’m dyin [drunk text] SWEEEEEEEET CAROLINE
@charredbcnes gets a starter!
“Mmhm.” Lucius crouches down and sifts his fingers through the ashes of a building that once was. Bent at his knees, he twists to glance up at Vince and narrows his eyes. “So...when you said you had everything under control. This is what you meant?”
“Right.” She blinks, eyebrows furrowing. Because it wasn’t the kind of response she’d expected, but hell – she’d take it. As long as he wasn’t gonna call the landlord up and report it, that was the LAST thing she needed. She’d already been booted out of ONE apartment complex, she’d never be able to find another. “I might … put one on your door too. Just to be safe.” And because her neighbor in Atlanta hadn’t exactly survived living across the hall.
“Ah, Liv ….” She paused, pressing a smile onto her face as she reached to take his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
LJ gives her hand squeeze before he pulls back. He was taught how to shake hands by old, clingy women at church. His father avoided touch like the plague. Never taught the kid how to hug, how to pat a knee, or how to shake hands. You know. Like a man, whatever the fuck that meant.
“You too...thanks for uh. Decorating my door.” A pause, then he knits his eyebrows as he tucks his hands in the pockets at the back of his pants. “So...this isn’t like a devil worship thing, is it? Because I’m cool with all religions...but...you know. Try to keep the BAD MOJO out as much as possible.”
The steam was still rising out of the tub. Marcus laid unconscious, a glass formally filled with whiskey and sleep aides set on the ground next to a kitchen knife. He didn’t snore and his breath was soft enough not to disturb a butterfly's flight path. His hair was tussled; he was clean shaven for the first time in weeks. Amelia could feel the lack of tension as she massaged on either side of his neck.
She worked his skin, fully expecting him to take up and break her plan. Part of her wondered if she kept kneading his neck in hopes he’d wake up and stop her. There would be no protest, no screaming or begging. A marriage that had never been absent of noise was suddenly suffocated with silence. Amelia picked up the knife and felt the weight in her hand before gliding it along a sharpening steel. Her eyes moved from her work to Marcus and back again.
It was half an hour later, she was standing in her bathroom with a gun in one hand. Her hands were coated in blood like a cherry in chocolate, making a mess of things with blood drops and smears lining a path from the bathroom to her feet. The plan was to shoot herself through the head, she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life in prison when she just sliced her way out of hell.
But she waited too long. And Instead of firing the gun she held in one hand, she dialed the cellphone she had in her other. “Lucius?” She spoke softly, a habit from when she was trying to hide something from Marcus. “I need you to come over. I need your help.”
It was late.
Real late. Lucius had been asleep for hours, a good, dead-to-the-world sleep. He had two modes. Awake. Unconscious. He was either completely on alert or completely shut down. He had plenty of demons during the the day, but at night? Lucius Warren slept like a goddamn baby.
So when his phone went off, it didn’t wake him up, not right away, anyway. It wasn’t until Ruby nudged him, murmured his name, and then put both hands on his arm and shoved him hard did he wake up.
“Lu. Make it stop.”
Lucius grunted, unwound from Ruby, and rolled over to fumble for his phone. When he finally got a hold of it, he checked the number and--
Amelia. She wouldn’t be calling unless something was wrong.
Panic shot up his spine. What the heck did his brother do now? He answered the phone, put it to his ear. “Yeah?”
Ruby resettled into his lap like a cat, hugging his thigh. Lucius? I need you to come over. I need your help. Her voice was strange--not the usual shaky tone she got after Marcus had shoved her around a couple times. It was hollow. Empty.
Yeah. This was bad.
“Yeah,” Lucius said. “I’ll be right there.”
With that, he shut off the phone and climbed out of bed. Told Ruby to go back to sleep. Pulled on some clothes and left. It was an unspoken code between he and Amelia. Military code. One of them called. The other came running. No matter what. It was that way since they’d been overseas, always would be that way.
Marcus, though. He was a hell of a wrench in things.
Lucius’s pick-up truck rumbled off, weaving through the trees that stood on either side of the flat road like tombstones. His headlights spilled yellow light onto the Warren family house and then flickered off when the engine spat and died with a clunky cough. He got out, climbed the stone walkway, and pushed through the door.
Didn’t bother knocking. Family didn’t much need to knock and no one ever locked their doors in their town anyhow.
The house was quiet. Very quiet. Marcus had probably tired himself out and passed out upstairs.
Lucius glanced around. “Am?“
It was way too hot. Sweltering hot. Clothes sticking to skin, sweat stinging eyes, even the smallest effort just seemed like too much effort. Hot, hot, hot.
Which is why Lucius was lying on his back. On the floor. Which soaked up less heat than the couch.
“Quick thinkin’ so loud,” he complained to the other person. Too hot to budge his eyelids. “Don’t make me come up there.”
re: ooc
Gentle reminder that I have a multi-muse blog and now my lady does too.
