Ch.1 Mystic Messenger Mafia AU


Word Count: 1,609


      It was what you had come to know as a typical night. The city was wet from the earlier rains, causing a moonlit highlight on the bricks and asphalt. It also kicked up an unpleasant stench, but one you had grown familiar with in all of your years of living here.

     “Alright, kiddies. Time to work,” a burly man clapped his gloved hands together before throwing open the back door of the truck.

     Barrels and barrels full of bootleg lined the inside. Thousands of dollars of product for the family to profit from, brought over on a meat truck they used frequently to disguise their hauls. But from where? The shipping yard, you guessed. Now if you could just figure out when it docked…

     “What are you thinking about?” the boy next to you asked.

     You hadn’t realized he’d been watching you. He scratched his hair underneath his cap before straightening it with a smile. Yoosung, or ‘Lucky’ as he was known, was always smiling. He seemed to practically skip instead of walk. Not the typical mafioso wannabe. But neither were you. In any case, he’s the closest thing you had to a friend right now. And you needed that.

     “That it’s cold as shit and I wanna get this over with,” you huffed.

     Lucky and some of the other boys popped up into the truck. They all shifted the barrels in their spots as if to weigh the contents before proceeding to move them. They had to roll a few of them down before you could start to dolly the liquor inside the small storage warehouse.

     “Attaboy,” the driver said gruffly and condescendingly. His wide hand pat one of them on the back as they wheeled a barrel away.

     “Turn the lights off, you nitwit,” the beautiful brunette, your capo-Jaehee, seethed as her heels clicked around the side of the truck and stopped in front of the driver.

     “S-Sorry, right,” he nodded before scrambling to the front to turn the headlights dim.

     “This is the last job for tonight, so make it snappy,” she played with her gloved hands, seemingly annoyed, “well go on!” she urged you.

     You picked up the pace and wheeled the barrel Yoosung placed on the dolly for you. A single one wasn’t too heavy, but do 5 or 6 in a row and boy were you feeling it. Towards the end of the truck you felt beads of sweat on the back of your neck.

     “What’s her deal tonight?” one of the boys whispered as you all worked to shift the hooch inside the storage room.

     You glanced back to see Jaehee and the driver. It looked like she was scolding him, all while gesturing to the truck.

     “Probably in a rush to get to the club to see ‘Pretty Boy’ sing his little heart out so she can drop her panties,” one of the guys joked and pretended to sing into a mic dramatically.

     “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” another one smacked him in the back of the head, “if I have to listen to any more of your stupid jokes tonight I’m gunna stuff ya in one of these damn barrels.”

     “Alright, alright, lay off,” he rubbed his head with a sour face, “I was only tryin'a lighten the mood.”

     A flash of headlights washed over you before being turned off. You all stopped to watch a black car pull up by the truck. You and Yoosung both paused, gripping your dollies and watching as a man in a brown trench coat stepped out and straightened his collar. Bits of red hair peeked from his hat and a serious expression plagued his face.

     “Shit, what’s he doing here?” one of the guys whistled menacingly.

     Though you had only seen him a handful of times, you knew who it was. Saeyoung, the Underboss. Or as people liked to call him-‘The Mad Hatter.’ You believed him responsible for countless hits over the years. And now you all stood to watch, though some of the outfit stayed back in the warehouse, exchanging quiet glances and pretending to work.

     “It’s a wonderful night, isn’t it?” Saeyoung and his two body guards met Jaehee and the driver.

     “It’s a bit too cold if you ask me,” Jaehee replied.

     “Ah, but it’s a clear night,” he looked up to the sky, “star, after star, after star. An endless void. If you look long and hard enough you can get lost in it. How many do you think there are?”

     He returned his gaze to the two of them, his solemn face unchanging. Neither of them spoke.

     “I asked you a question,” he turned to the large man, “how many do you think there are?”

     “Stars? I-uh…” you could almost see the man begin to sweat.

     “You can count, can’t you?”

     “Well ya, but I-I don’t know-“

     “Of course you don’t. There are too many up there. Maybe a simpler question, then? Since you can count and many barrels am I missing from this truck?” he gestured to the meat truck.

     “Missing?” his big belly heaved with his now labored breathing.

      Saeyoung’s fist swung into the mans gut and sent him coughing to his knees.

     “Now, now. You’re good with numbers, remember? I’ll give you a second to count them in your head before telling me. And you’d better tell me. Or things are only going to get worse for you.”

     The man started to sob at Saeyoung’s feet, “I don’t know nothin’ about missing barrels I swear on my kids life,” he pleaded.

     “I don’t like liars,” Saeyoung grabbed the mans hand and pulled the glove off, “shall we count together? Maybe that will help.”

     He singled out the mans pointer finger, while the driver looked up to Saeyoung’s face in terror. His wet eyes were pleading.

     “One…” Saeyoung bent the finger back in a swift motion. The snap of bone was like a dry twig breaking under your boot.

     The cry in pain filled the empty street and the body guards stuffed the man’s mouth with a cloth before holding him in place on his knees. He struggled for a moment but quickly admitted defeat.

     “Two,” another snap of his middle finger, “three…”

     Even with the cloth to muffle, you could hear the pain bellowing from his chest. Tears streamed down his stubble-heavy face and his brow pinched together in agony. It took everything in you not to stop him. The cold metal of the gun on your thigh had never been more apparent.

     “Four,” the pinky was the last one and it broke easily, “four barrels. Now do you remember?”

     He let the mans hand fall before stepping back. The cloth was pulled from his mouth before shoving him forward into the damp asphalt. Shaking and nodding at Saeyoung’s feet, his right hand was a mangled mess now.

     “Good, I thought so. Now you won’t forget that number,” he tossed the glove at the mans face, “get out of my sight.”

     With his good hand he palmed the glove and clambered to his feet all while stifling sobs. Wobbling slightly and almost running into Jaehee in the process he started to walk fast in the opposite direction down the silent street.

     “Hm…I changed my mind,” Saeyoung reached into his coat and pulled a pistol to aim at the man.

     The truck blocked your view but the sound of the shot and the thud that followed were telling enough. Your legs were suddenly jello and a pair of hands held you up.

     “Keep it together,” Yoosung whispered as he grabbed you. You were just noticing his eyes had glassed over slightly and there was an indent where he must have bitten his lip.

     All you could think about were flashes of Saeyoung’s face as he held a gun to your head. ‘Lemme show you what we do to rats and pigs,’ he’d say, his sadistic grin being the last thing you see before he squeezed on it.

     “Someone clean that up,” Saeyoung gestured to the body before turning to one of the men, “you, get this truck out of here.”

     He handed a wad of cash to Jaehee, explaining that she was to deliver it to the man’s wife. It was to help her get by, at least for a little while, without a husband.

     He took long striding steps back to the car. His gloved hand opened the door and he turned to you with a smile before getting in.

     “Hey, Lucky! Both’a you, be in the wind before the bull arrives, huh?” he waved and got into the back seat.

     The bit of food in your stomach was trying to make it’s way up but you took some sharp breaths to calm your nerves as the car drove away. No wonder there wasn’t a soul at the station willing to try and infiltrate this syndicate. They all either laughed at you or turned a cold shoulder when you brought it up. Not even the feds were willing to acknowledge this level of organized crime was going on. Businesses and citizens alike accepted that this was just the way things were. And here you were, a cop gone under cover. A rat. A bull. The regret was like a thick syrup that clung to you. This was the first time you realized you were probably going to die. But there was no turning back now.

     “Come on, there’s still a bit of work to do…” Yoosung pat you on the back with a solemn face. It was the first time you’d seen him not smiling.

“After we spoke with this farmer about his calves chained up under trees, he almost proudly directed us to two younger boys over the paddock. These were the two baby boys we found tied tightly up with hay bale twine, waiting for the meat truck. We know the truck doesn’t come that often, and calves are slaughtered across the border at least 8 hours away, so it is not likely they will make that journey. The sun was beaming down, they had no shade, shelter or water as they slumped heartbreakingly in the dirt, unable to move as we approached them. We wanted to offer them something in their short lives and gave them water and a comforting touch, their mothers nowhere to be seen. One was afraid and tugging at the string trying to get away. This boy did not even acknowledge our presence. He was shattered, his long beautiful eyelashes shading his big brown hopeless eyes. How, in just a matter of days of ‘living’ had he become so forlorn, so lonely and so neglected? He just wanted to be with his mumma, she was probably only over the hill. He wanted a full tummy, to be safe, to have access to shelter. We are sorry we could not save you little angel. We promise we have a bigger plan to help your brothers, in your memory.”

Suffering Souls Australia

The documentary Eight Days a Week really opened my eyes a LOT to why the Beatles stopped touring.

It’s become so accepted that they stopped touring because they were sick of it, but the fact that there were bomb threats at their shows in America and they had to be transported in steel meat trucks is so inhumane.

For people that were regarded so highly at the time, it’s so surprising that they were treated like items.

Thanks again for @sheilkuroi for the meat truck suggestion ^w^

and no, I don’t think he actually puts the people into the meat supply XD
Though how fucked up would that be? o3o
But nah, I think he just uses the truck for transport XD

And is okay!
Victor only showed the pic to Otabek, he knows he can trust this man at least :D

Connected (Ch. 2)

Summary: Ian is always trying to keep Mickey out of trouble, but he can’t when Mickey is doing it to protect him.

Word Count: 1207

Notes: Already working on Ch. 3!

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

It’s been three years since Ian and Mickey first met, and despite the fact that they were complete opposites, they were closer than anyone would ever imagine they could be. They were the perfect and exact definition of best friends.

In third grade, Mickey got held back because he failed science class and english class, so now he was in the same grade as Ian and Mandy. Even though his sister normally would be the one to provoke his bad behavior, Ian was the one to keep him out of trouble. When the redhead isn’t around though, there’s no one telling him what’s right and what’s wrong.

Ian had woken up with a cough one morning, so he was going to be coming in late to school— around second period. He prepare himself to go to school, being that his siblings already left, Frank was past out on the porch, and Monica was God knows where, so he packed up and set him way down the sidewalk. Likely the elementary school was only four blocks from their house, so it didn’t take too long.

When he walked inside, he gave a note that he plagiarized to the front desk, took his belonging where they needed to go, and made his way to class. Just as he approached the door, he heard a kid begging for something. When he got closer, he heard clearer. “Please, Mickey. I need lunch money today. My mama ran out of food at the house!”

Ian put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. He needed to make sure this kid still had his food because he (and definitely Mickey) know what it’s like to be low of food supply. After entering the room, he saw Mickey hovering closely to the distressed boy. One close enough, he tapped on Mickey on the shoulder. “Mick,” he dragged out.

Keep reading

Neighbors from Hell.

It was back in.. 95-97 ish times.

The pool, water and pump were about $6500 to replace.

The roof was about $7k. The neighbor used his brother in law to do the work while my father supervised.

The deck was just replacing the surface boards. My father liked the spacing to be tight. So the frame work didn’t suffer too much damage. About $1k for lumber.

My father used his old neighbor and my mother’s cousin to do the body work on the vehicles. I think it was about $3000 total for the vehicles.

The house painting was done by my neighbor’s company. My dad figured it took him $700 to $900 worth of paint and scaffold renting to do it himself. So the company would be a bit cheaper.

It was suggested by two people to post my story here. So, I’m sharing :)

The question asked was “Redditors who have had ‘neighbors from hell’, what happened?”

I took care of it. I was 14. My neighbors and I would always feud. I’d get in physical fights with all of their kids. They ranged from a juice pig failed out cop turned security at 21, a 16 year old drug abusing loser, a 14 year old know it all and a 12 year old who had a crush on my sister. They were all pigs. Always leaving trash to blow freely in their yard. Never taking their shoes in the house. Parking on our lawn. Shoveling their gravel filled snow in to our lawn. Etc.

I was smaller than the 12 year old by a few inches. So I was an easy target. I think the whole thing started over street hockey. I scored on the 14 year old brother and they said I cheated.

The 16 year old and 14 year old got a good idea in their head one day. Jump me while I was walking back home from uptown and make me eat grass while working on my kidneys. When I stood up, they threw me in to a rose bush. I ended up getting bit by a few wasps. I ended up at the hospital. Nothing too serious. Just a few scars. Had to have a thorn removed from my eye. Blah blah blah.

So I got in to their shed and removed the nut that holds the front tire to the bike. The 16 year old did a wheelie and nothing happened. The 14 year old jumped a ramp and the front wheel came off. He went to the hospital. I thought it was finished after that.

My parents had left with my sister to go to a hockey tournament. The neighbors thought I went with them. Their parents were also leaving for a week for vacation. The night their parents left for vacation, they threw food coloring, rocks, broken bottles, boxes of street chalk and bags of flour in to our pool. The oldest brother then drove them off somewhere for the week.

Instead of vandalizing my neighbor’s house in retaliation, I vandalized my own even more. I threw eggs, wet paper, and flour at my house and up on the roof. I threw hair spray soaked lunch meat on the truck, van and jeep. And I let the air out of all the tires. I made sure I did it all from angles that would be from their property for the majority of the attack. I used their shoes to muck through my mother’s garden to get to the driveway.

And then it rained. The flour turned to dough. The eggs rotted. The paper turned in to a glue. Then the sun baked it. It ended up creating a few thousand dollars worth of damage from what I did. The pool had to be drained and the pump and liner had to be replaced.

I waited until my parents got home. They called the police. The police took my statement. Then they waited for my neighbors to get home. We all had a sit down. There was no disputing the damage. I had pictures of them trashing the pool, throwing objects over the fence. My camera didn’t have a complete roll of film, so I couldn’t document the whole thing. What I did have though was enough to convince the police and the insurance company as well as the neighbors that their kids were completely guilty.

The neighbors agreed to pay for all the damage as long as we didn’t press charges. We got a new deck. New paint on the home (my father hand painted the cedar siding of a 2700 square foot home every 3 years until he decided to go maintenance free) and new shingles for the roof. The cars were repainted and the pool was repaired and refilled.

Two months later, the neighbors moved. I have no idea what happened to any of them.


In the 11th work of his Better Out Than In exhibit, Banksy took over a delivery truck, turning it into a slaughterhouse installation carrying 60 stuffed animals (or puppets) - cows, chickens, pigs, lambs - who were seen moving and banging their heads through wooden slats and the sides of the “Farm Fresh Meats Inc” truck.

The Mistress Part 4 (Negan X Reader)

Word Count: 2713

Warnings: swearing

Tag List: @cloudroomblog @angelicshinigami @flissworld @svannah @greathairdontcare @shinydixon @negans-network @spn-dean-sam-cas-spn @thememphistrain @nicholeex @unicorn-blood-splatter

If you would like to be added/removed from the tag list let me know

Originally posted by rikkisixx

   "Let’s wrap it up boys. I do have other things to do today.“ Katya called from her perch on the fence. Beside her King Ezekiel nodded for his people to speed up the process of loading meat into the Savior trucks. Of all the communities under the saviors thumb, the kingdom was by far the most cooperative. Which was perhaps the reason Negan had placed Katya in charge of their pick ups. It was an added benefit that the King seemed rather fond of her as compared to the other lieutenants. The job was easy and allowed her plenty of spare time and freedom to roam.

    "I assume this will be enough to appease your leader for now?” Ezekiel asked her with a brow raised. Katya sighed and gave a simple shrug without bothering to look at him.

    "Nothing is ever enough to appease him… at least not for long.“ Her reply was colder than she had intended it but somehow still felt warranted.

    Ezekiel let out a low rumbling chuckle. "You sound like a disappointed lover.” He commented causing her to scoff in response. “I see. Then he is a fool to disappoint you.” He said quietly so the others wouldn’t over hear him speaking ill of their leader.

     Katya looked slowly to the king and examined his smile for any hint of hidden intent. As always he seemed very genuine with her. No other motive than having an honest conversation as equals. Something that seemed strange given his title as King. It was hard to accept at first, that he simple wanted to talk to her. She had been sure he was just tying to get her to share some secret weakness he could exploit to take Negan down. However after some time it became clear to her that he held no interest in anything other than ensuring they could trust one another.

     "Katrina, trucks are loaded. Want me to radio ahead and make sure the way is clear?“ A middle aged man with thick brown curls stepped forward while the others all began climbing into their trucks. The others would all drive to various stations to deliver supplies while Katya would return to the Sanctuary with supplies specifically for Negan.

    "Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.” He gave a short nod and jogged off to the truck. Katya slipped down from the fence and turned to the king. “I appreciate your concern Ezekiel but my disappoint is the result of my own mistakes… Thank you for being so cooperative, as always. See you next time.” She bowed deeply and grinned at how he rolled his eyes in response. “Come on what’s the point in playing King if you can’t make common folk bow?” She teased.

    His response was calm and unusually serious. “There is nothing common about you Katya… Do not bow so easily.” Her brows pulled together for a moment looking at him in confusion but he just smiled and waved her away. “Go on now. Wouldn’t want to keep your fearless leader waiting.” It took her a moment to finally turn and leave.

    "Something wrong?“ Charles asked as she jumped into the drivers seat.

    "Nope.” She didn’t bother to explain further as she turned the key and shifted into drive. “Road clear?”

    "Uh yeah. Chris just cleared it and Negan said the teams ready to unload when we get there so we can pull right up to the dock.“ He explained before grabbing the radio and holding down the button. "Heading home. ETA twenty minutes.”

    There was a brief moment of silence before they received a response. “Damn fine work. Hope you’re bringing me some good shit, kitten.” Katya cringed hearing Negan’s voice knowing the pet name at the end was addressed toward her. In an instant she snatched the radio from Charles hand.

    "Keep calling me kitten and you’ll have to go collect your shit from the bottom of a lake.“ Without waiting for a reply she switched the dial off and tossed the receiver back to Charles, who looked terrified beside her.

    "Are you insane? You can’t talk to him like that. He’s going to have your head when we get back.” He said in a panic. Katya rounded a corner and rolled her eyes at his fear.

    "No, you can’t talk to him like that. I can do what I want because I have breasts and Negan thinks back talk is foreplay.“ She informed him. From the moment Negan had given her a place as Lieutenant, Charles had been by her side. He was loyal to the chain of command and respected Katya despite her age. He’d even defended her promotion to some of the other men who initially had a problem with following a woman. As time passed she came to count him as one of her few friends in the new world.

    He gave a soft chuckle that didn’t completely hide his nerves and racked his fingers through his hair. He trusted Katya’s choices but he’d be lying if he said she didn’t make him nervous sometimes. "I really wish you’d stop provoking him. You might be safe from Lucille, but I doubt he’d hesitate to bash my head in to prove a point.” Katya scoffed quickly in response and glanced at him with a smirk playing on her lips.

    "Not going to happen.“ She sounded calm and self assured; even a little bit amused. He couldn’t help but wonder once again what it was about her that kept her safe from Negan. It was a subject she never discussed with anyone, not even Charles no matter how many times he asked. He’d come up with several theories over time, each more complicated than the last. His favorite (or most intimidating) theory being that she was secretly the one controlling everything and Negan was just a figurehead. That of course was one of the more ridiculous theories.

    Katya and Charles fell into a comfortable silence for most of the ride home after that. Occasionally one of them would comment on a walker’s appearance in a time killing game to spot the most decomposed or mangled body along the way. Charles managed to spot a walker near the tree line that was somehow eating its own dismembered leg. While it wasn’t particularly rotten, the odd visual was enough to win him the game this time putting the overall score at 5:3 in his favor. Katya’s defense always being that she had to focus on driving and couldn’t look for walkers as easily as he could. He offered to drive next time to allow her more visual freedom, but she quickly turned him down with a pink tint to her cheeks. Being a gentleman he didn’t mock her for clinging to her flimsy excuse.

    Right on time they backed into the large gates of the sanctuary where Simons team waited to unload. Katya groaned in annoyance seeing the man in her side mirror grinning as usual. "Try not to start a fight…” Charles commented as she threw the truck into park and turned the key.

    "Ladies don’t fights but they can finish them.“ She said using a quote she knew would go completely over his head.

    "Yeah well you aren’t much of a lady.” She glared at him as he grinned and slipped out of the cab before she could retaliate. Katya growled and exited as well.

    "Bout time there Wednesday!“ Simon’s voice called to her. He stepped forward with an annoying shit eating grin that he’d adopted from Negan.

    "Wednesday?” She questioned. Her voice dripping with distain for him and his ridiculous ritual of having new insulting nicknames for her every time they spoke.

    "Yeah. Cause it’s boring, forgettable, and no one gives a shit about it. Just like you.“ His grin grew ten fold making her lip curl up into a snarl.

    "Funny coming from the guy that goes out of his way to harass me on a daily basis.” Her arms crossed firmly over her chest and her weight shifted to one leg.

    "Gotta make sure you remember who’s above ya… That’s me by the way. I’m above you.“ He chuckled at how amusing he found himself. "Does it hurt? Constantly being reminded that you always come second to me I mean. I know how badly you want the boss. Shit, that has to sting!”

    Katya chewed the inside of her lip trying to hold back everything she was feeling. Getting emotional only ever made him worse. It was a lesson she learned the hard way after getting into several physical fights with him. All of which ended with him pinning her to the ground face down with her arms behind her back. “Don’t you have a truck to unload?” She asked.

    "It’s your fucking truck. You unload it.“ His lips shifted into a scowl and he mimicked her defiant posture.

    "Or! Hear me out-” She raised a finger to silence him and smiled. “You unload the truck and stop bitching like a girl. Sound good? Good. Glad that’s settled.”

     Seeing Simon about to go off, Charles quickly slipped in and spoke up. “Hey Simon there’s a crate of Gin, think Negan will want it or is that more your thing?” Simons anger flickered for a moment before he shifted his attention toward Charles. Katya smirked as Charles managed to lead Simon off toward the cargo being unloaded at the back of the truck. She mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to her friend when he looked back at her. He gave a short nod freeing her to get as far away from Simon as possible.


    She took the long route around the building to the kennels in back. Allowing herself some extra time to decompress before approaching her dogs. As soon as she was within their line of sight they began to cry and jump at the gate in a frenzied attempt at getting to her sooner. She of course couldn’t help but smile at them.

    "Alright guys you know the rules. Line up.“ She stated firmly holding her arm horizontally across her chest. The dogs dropped back to all fours and shuffled around each other to their places until they were each sitting side by side tails wagging waiting for her. It was hard to believe that only a few months ago they were all practically wild. No doubt house pets that had escaped or been turned loose when things went back. Without humans around the dogs quickly adapted into more wolf like habits.

    Katya unlocked the gate and stepped inside closing it behind her. The dogs shifted and whimpered wanting her to give the command for them to move again and greet her. She took a seat on the concrete and smiled at them. "Come.” In an instant all five fluffy monsters began attacking her with kisses and high pitched cries for affection. Her fingers racked through ones thick black and white fur while he  licked at her cheek. “Yes, hi Hermes. I see you buddy.” His dual colored eyes lit up hearing his name and his kisses became even more overwhelming

.   “Oomph!” The large chocolate lab beside her jumped forward pushing her onto her back and forced the air from her lungs. Still she couldn’t help but giggle and smile at her companions. It was difficult to keep in mind how capable and well trained they all were when she let them behave like this.

    "Ya know I recall asking for badass guard dogs, not house pets.“ Katya tipped her head back to see Negan standing with his signature leaning posture. His head cocked to the side and a toothy grin plastered on his face. The dimples in his cheeks drawing her attention and making her eyes sparkle the way only he could.

    "They’ll be badass when you need them to.” She assures him. “Ok all done. Sit.” Her hand raised into a fist with her thumb tucked in. The dogs all stopped what they were doing and sat down at her command. “My babies just wanted to give me love… ya know, since no one else will.” She scratched Hermes chin as she took an obvious jab at Negan’s unwillingness to get close to her. His heavy sigh behind her told her she’d annoyed him.

     "Seriously? This is the fucking conversation you want to have right now?“ He grumbled. The gruff tone to his voice made the dogs shift and eye him nervously.

    "No… sorry.” She muttered quietly. Hermes whimpered and nudged at her arm. She gave him a weak smile before pushing herself up to her feet and facing Negan. “So what brings you out to the kennels?”

    "Lookin’ for you of course.“ He gave a small wink that made her heart flutter. No matter how many times he turned her down, she couldn’t help but pine for him. Her memories of him alone were enough to keep her at his side. Despite her best attempts at being a bitchy toward him, she always melted with the smallest nudge of his charm. "You busy? Casey picked something up today I think you’ll get a fucking kick out of.” He told her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

    She giggled to herself and crossed her arms giving up the fight against the smile tugging at her lips. “Why does that grin of yours make me nervous?… I was about to give the dogs their dinner. Maybe go get some for myself afterward.”

    "So feed the dogs and come up to my room. We can order in. I hear Sandy makes a damn good grilled cheese.“ He offered letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

    Katya’s brows pulled together and she smirked. "Grilled cheese, seriously? What are you twelve?”

    "Only a scale of 1-10, kitten.“ He quipped back at her. When she glared at him for the nickname he let out a soft chuckle. "Fine if you want to be fucking picky I’ll order something fucking fancier. Just finish with the mutts and get your ass up stairs or I’m enjoying my new stuff alone.” He waved his hand dismissively at her as he turned to leave. After only a few steps he snapped his fingers and pivoted in place to face her once again.

    "Almost fucking forgot!“ Katya raised a brow at him and waited for him to explain. "What the fuck is going on with you and Simon? You know I can’t have you two bitting each other’s fucking heads off all the damn time. I need my right and left to fucking get along.”

     "Talk to him then, he’s the one that starts shit!“ She snaps defiantly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and flexed his jaw. She chewed her lip out of frustration and did her best to swallow her pride. "Katya.” He growled her name as a warning.

    She let out a long exhausted breath wanting nothing more than to keep her mouth shut like a stubborn child. “Fine… I’ll work on it.”

    His posture relaxes again. “Good. If I hear about you two fighting again someone’s going on the fucking wall until the attitude drops… Hurry up with the dogs. I don’t like fucking waiting.” He stalked off back into the building while griping about his lieutenants being spoiled children leaving Katya to tend to her dogs. It doesn’t take her long to feed them and run them through a quick exercise but she lingers longer than is required.

    She examined the kennels several times making sure everything was safe and where it should be. The dogs all wandered away to their beds knowing it was time for sleep. Yet still Katya didn’t leave. She chewed her lip and glanced back toward the building. He was waiting for her. It wasn’t unheard of for her to spend time with him alone but it always put her on edge. She knew what she wanted to happen and some small hopefully part of her believed that it would. No matter how many times she tried to choke down that hope and silence it forever, it always clawed its way back up.

    "Better be a damn good surprise old man…“ She finally muttered before closing the kennels gate and heading inside.



I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

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jimmy conway characteristics
  • will never rat on his friends
  • will always keep his mouth shut 
  • professional ketchup bottle spinner
  • nah nah nah nah nah
  • good good good
  • wants to know what’s the matta with you 
  • loves to eat
  • wears pinky rings
  • makes smoking look really hot
  • looks good with black or grey hair
  • has perfect hands and veins
  • eat cantaloupes with a spoon
  • has an adorable smile/laugh
  • wears the cutest outfits/suits
  • has a lot of money
  • adorable when he’s drunk
  • the only irishman here 
  • talks with a mouth full of pasta 
  • will question why you’re so quiet
  • never ages
  • owns a blue robe, looks amazing in it
  • wears gold chains
  • believes you insulted him a little bit
  • smokes while he’s in handcuffs 
  • poured water on henry while he was sleeping
  • loves to play cards
  • wants to knows if you’re trying to be a fucking wiseguy with him
  • knows the perfect places to put dead bodies
  • dented his shoes
  • hates pink cars
  • hates mink coats
  • will choke you with a telephone cord if you don’t pay him his money
  • went down to florida, was arrested when he got back
  • best friend got whacked
  • roots for the bad guys in the movies
  • will tell you that he has nice dresses for you but actually just wants to kill you
  • loves to dance when he’s kicking you in the face
  • gets sleepy in a car with an almost dead body in the trunk 
  • loves to fuck with the feds
  • had a good summer
  • invites you to his christmas party only to yell and embarass you in front of everyone
  • will give you $100 if you keep the ice cubes cold
  • has a probation officer
  • wears glasses, looks adorable in them 
  • will feed you to the lions
  • doesn’t take shit off nobody 
  • thinks you oughta wear a sign 
  • smokes for breakfast 
  • yells at tommy for killing a guy but then loves to kill people himself 
  • laughs while in handcuffs
  • got 20-years-to life for murder
  • not eligible for parole
  • knows that a deers’ paw is actually called the hoof
  • kicked and pushed over a phone booth 
  • will tell you to relax on christmas 
  • doesn’t like chinese food 
  • called off a hit but then went through with it 
  • doesn’t give a fuck who’s name your car is under
  • takes care of business at weddings just by using hand gestures
  • gets paranoid after stealing millions of dollars 
  • has transcripts of all your phone conversations
  • hates wigs
  • hates wig commercials
  • will rip your wig that has been tested against hurricane winds right off your head 
  • will question the security
  • will leave you for dead in a very cold meat truck 
  • knows who you are
  • can’t have it, just can’t do it 
  • doesn’t know what the world’s coming to

In an episode of fullmetal alchemist the protagonist is hunted in a meat truck the hanging slabs of meat imo supposed to mirror his objectification and dehumanization into… a carcass which has been used as a term to index violence in stuff I’ve read. He’s reduced to a carcass the killer laughs abt killing him as he chases him w a chopping knife iirc. Lord

May have triggering photos

So remember when ISIS attacked Paris?

This happened:

What did Paris do?

What did it cause?

Have you heard about the story of the Austrian meat truck?

71 Syrian refugees died on the way to Austria inside a meat truck by choking, the truck included multiple children and a baby, also a few women and men.

Has #prayforsyria trend worldwide?

Did Facebook change their icon to Syria’s flag?

Did the buildings of the world change their lights to the color of the Syrian flag?

Did people change their icons to the Syrian flag? 


What about Palestine? 

Did Facebook change their icon to the Palestinian flag?

Did #prayforpalestine trend worldwide?

Did the buildings of the world change their lights to the color of the Palestinian flag?

Did people change their profile picture to the Palestinian flag?


What about all the Islamic countries that people die in every day that are not recognized by anyone? What have people done to the people who are dying? Did we all forget that we are all human? That we are all supposed to be keeping each other steady? That we share this one world? If everyone is going to take sides and/or ignore other countries in need we will all fail to be human; we simply become no different than animals.

Spread love, not hate.

(sorry for my bad English, it is not my native language)

The signs as images from Howl

Aries: who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

Taurus: who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,

Gemini: who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon, 

Cancer: who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

Leo: who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,

Virgo: who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,

Libra: who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,

Scorpio: who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,

Sagittarius: who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,

Capricorn: who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,

Aquarius: who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,

Pisces: who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,