she made those shorts

3

Royai Week, Day 4: “Promise”

This is a collaborative piece between me and @capthawkeye . She is just the best! Art by me and the amaaaaazing fic by her!

Day 4 of Royai Week: Promise
Rated: K || Words: 868


It’s a quiet mid-morning in Central. The day is vibrant and a slight breeze ruffles the grayed bangs away from her face. She recalls several days like today: the calm deception of the Promised Day or perhaps a proud, short day such as the last Fuhrer’s inauguration. The memories remind her how much has changed since then.

The saying goes: Time leaves nothing unaltered.

Aches settle in her bones and her hands now tremble. She uses a curved cane to bolster her steps and her muscles no longer respond with youthful vigor. The Hawk’s Eye precision blurs with passage of time. The years of building up strength dwindles with each passing day, but she carries the weight of their past all the same.

An old woman walks in her shoes now, past her golden years. She blends into the crowd seamlessly, an elder enjoying her routine stroll. A bittersweet smile sneaks onto her lips; for years now, her walks across the park are lonelier and all she cares to do is reminisce.

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AU where they all have a Youtube game channel

in a universe where Jack never went to Samwell…

Jack listens to podcasts during roadies, while running, at home to fill the silence, all the time. At some point he feels like he listened to every podcast and video  about history the Internet had to offer, when Youtube suggests a little gem:

Video Games Shit with Ransom and Holster

The name doesn’t interest him, until he sees that it was about the Hockey game where he supposedly starred. (Tater kept telling him to check it out, he never did.)

He watched it and was delighted to see it had some history of hockey, and even some history of hockey games. Jack, being 110%, listened to the entire series.

He learned they were part of a video community called The Haus, and that other vloggers produced content along the same lines. Soon enough, the voices of strangers filled his days, and they soothed him, even when they were yelling obscenities about blue shells. 

There was the group named The Frogs, where two of them played versus games and argued incessantly, while a third one acted as a referee with a sunny voice that failed to hide his biting remarks.

For Shits and Giggles was an interesting series that analysed representation in games with foul language that became almost pornographic when the games were actually good.

Lardo’s channel was one of Jack’s favourites. She talked in a low and steady voice, killing zombies without blinking. She had a four hour let’s play of a pong game where she ranted about art history, which Jack listened to when he was feeling anxious. She also made those short paint mixing videos without a sound, and Jack spent an entire night watching them all.

The last youtuber was something of a challenge for Jack. He looked and sounded nice enough, played the cutest games with the wittiest commentary, but his accent was so strong that Jack had trouble understanding most of it. Since Jack hated leaving things uncompleted, he made a point to listen to every video twice, or even three times, until he understood every word.

All that would have stopped there if it weren’t for a reporter-

‘So, Jack, anything you’ve been following, recently?’

‘I, huh, been listening to these videos? About games. The Haus. They’re pretty great.’

‘HA!’ yells Snowy from next to him. ‘You spent all last flight watching the same vid, over and over again- I bet they’re pretty great!’

At the reporter’s look, Jack felt flustered.

‘It’s the accent. Heu, Bitty’s, specifically. It’s hard for me to understand him, but I’m getting better.’

At this point, the interview shifts to hockey, and nothing else would have come of it,

if it wasn’t for Eric Bittle to die of mortification when his favourite hockey crush mentioned him by name because he watched his videos so many times because he couldn’t understand a word he said. 

“You know what maybe I just need to get laid. Maybe that’ll just change some shit around. That’s another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. Someone like [name] where I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh … weisses fleisch! Dein weisses fleisch erregt mich so, Ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh … the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair, jet black, blond, white, brown, ahhh I just want to fuck! Call it teenager hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist. Es ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [name] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work … instant hard on … I couldn’t stop staring. And others like [several names] in my gym class, [name] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. Mmm. I can taste the sweet flesh now … the salty sweet, the animalistic movement … iccchhh … lieeebe ……. fleisccchhhh “Weisses fleisch” – perfect song for me. Who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then “fuck ’em like an animal, feel them from the inside” -Eric Harris

anonymous asked:

where did Eric say he wanted to go down on a girl?

In this diary entry: 

“You know what maybe I just need to get laid. Maybe that’ll just change some shit around. That’s another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. Someone like [name] where I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh … weisses fleisch! Dein weisses fleisch erregt mich so, Ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh … the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair, jet black, blond, white, brown, ahhh I just want to fuck! Call it teenager hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist. Es ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [name] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work … instant hard on … I couldn’t stop staring. And others like [several names] in my gym class, [name] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. Mmm. I can taste the sweet flesh now … the salty sweet, the animalistic movement … iccchhh … lieeebe ……. fleisccchhhh “Weisses fleisch” – perfect song for me. Who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then “fuck ’em like an animal, feel them from the inside” as Reznor said.”

“I love the nazis too… by the way, I fucking cant get enough of the swastika, the SS, and the iron cross. Hitler and his head boys fucked up a few times and it cost them the war, but I love their beliefs and who they were, what they did, and what they wanted. I know that form of gov couldn’t have lasted long once the human equation was brought in, but damnit it sure looked good. every form of gov leads to downfalls, everything will always fuck up or yeah something. its all DOOMed god damnit. this is beginning to make me get in a corner. I’m showing too much of myself, my views and thoughts, people might start to wonder, smart ones will get nosey and something might happen to fuck me over, I might need to put on one helluva mask here to fool you all some more. fuck fuck fuck it’ll be very fucking hard to hold out until April. If people would give me more compliments all of this might still be avoidable… but probably not. Whatever I do people make fun of me, and sometimes directly to my face. I’ll get revenge soon enough. fuckers shouldn’t have ripped on me so much huh! HA! then again its human nature to do what you did… so I guess I am also attacking the human race. I cant take it, Its not right… true… correct… perfect. I fucking hate the human equation. Nazism would be fucking great if it werent for individualism and our natural instinct to ask questions. you know what maybe I just need to get laid. maybe that’ll just change some shit around.

That’s another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. someone like [censored] were I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh… weisses fleisch! dein weisses fleisch emegt mich soo… Ich bin dech nur ein gigilo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh… the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair; jet black, blond, white, brown. ahhh I just want to fuck! call it teenage hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist… BJ ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [censored] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work.. instant hard on. I couldnt stop staring. and others like [censored] in my gym class, [censored] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. mmmm I can taste the sweet flesh now… the salty sweat, the animalistic movement… Iccchhh… lieeebe…… fleisccchhhh. who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then “fuck em like an animal, feel them from the inside” as Reznor said. oh… thats something else… that one NIN video I saw, broken or closer or something, the where the guy is kidnapped and tortured like hell… actual hell. I want to do that too. I want to tear a throat out with my own teeth like a pop can. I want to gut someone with my hand, to tear a head off and rip out the heart and lungs from the neck, to stab someone in the gut, shove it up to the heart, and yank the fucking blade out of their rib cage! I want to grab some weak little freshman and just tear them apart like a fucking wolf. show them who is god. strangle them, squish their head, bite their temples into the skull, rip off their jaw. rip off their colar bones, break their arms in half and twist them around, the lovely sounds of bones cracking and flesh ripping, ahh… so much to do and so little chances.” - Eric Harris

When I went to see Niall there was this girl in the merch line that was looking to give away her ticket FOR FREE mind you. And she turned to me asking if I wanted it. It was floor seats HOWEVER, ALL the way in the back.

When I told her no, she gave me such a weird look like “you’re really passing up having floor seats when your clearly a fan?”

And really I was avoiding doing this the entire night.

Just You Wait - Alfie Solomons One Shot O/C (requested

“Only me, I have a request for a one shot… you probs know what involving haha.  If poss I don’t want no full sex in it, just lots of his hands and beard over her (o/c) body n her touching his hands I know it’s very specific haha thank you.”



Just You Wait (part 1 of 3)

 The daily rush was finally slowing to a more manageable pace, as Y/N leaned against the counter and blew a pale wayward strand of hair from where it clung to her damp face.   Blazes it was hot in the bakery today.  The ovens working overtime to keep up with the demand.   Eyes the colour of a summer sky scanned the store and quickly counted the number of customers in the queue.  Less than five -  that wouldn’t take long.   Now as long as another rush didn’t sweep through the doors, she might just have time. Plucking her blouse from the sweat that had gathered between her ample breasts, her pert nose wrinkled in distaste. Perhaps she was not in any condition to pay a visit after all.   What she needed was a mirror, a brush and just the right shade of gloss to pull herself together.   With a quick glance towards the front of the store, noting that the line had dwindled to only two customers, she yelled to the bakery Manager, Ms. Shannon that she was finally taking her break.

After five minutes to pull herself together, she was walking down the passageway that connected the store bakery with the real heart of the business of one Alfie Solomons.    Her heart began thumping madly within her chest as a vision of the man swam before her eyes.   She could conjure every detail in vivid fantasy; but her mind was always prone to linger on his strong, hands and that glorious beard liberally laced in ginger tones.   Her stomach flipped just imaging both of them all over her body.   Thus far, despite some not so subtle hinting, she had not felt the pleasure.  Yet.   Sure, he was technically her boss, but God – the man was just too much man too resist.   Also, she had no shame.   More to the point, she suspected Alfie was the kind of man who didn’t care about boss/employee protocol, and would likely be pleased even further by her wanton desire.   

Y/N had heard enough talk of the man to know restraint was not his strong suit, and thus she figured it was just a matter of time before she knew the feel of those long, lean fingers all over her naked skin.   Once she had trailed a painted nail along the veins that stood out on his forearms and nearly climaxed from that experience alone.   Pausing outside his door, she could see the man at his desk, booted feet resting causally on the surface while he pondered the papers he held.   Hell, how the man was somehow sexier in those half-moon glasses, she would never know.   Taking a deep breath, she paused momentarily to silently watch him… and collect her wits.   One never wanted to approach Alfie Solomons with anything less than a fully functioning state of mind.   Which was a serious challenge when one tended to hold images of riding that beard while trying to converse.   Today she planned on testing the limits of his restraint.   Only a taste though.  

Always leave them wanting more was her motto.

Alfie’s jaw had begun to ache due to the amount of beard scratching he had already accomplished, and it was barely noon.  If it was not a dozen things going wrong today, it was probably twice that amount.  Fucking hell days like this were beginning to take a toll on him.   He’d even lost the will to yell at Ollie anymore.   The words of whatever document he was trying to read were blurring before his tired eyes.   Flinging the document back upon the desk, he lowered the glasses once more and leaned back in his chair, palms swiping over his aching eyes.   He rested his head against the back of the chair for a few minutes, weighing the merits of a good, but brief nap.  His hands folded across his chest, but fingers twisted and clenched continuously as a restlessness coursed through his body despite the fatigue. His eyes opened and wandered to the ceiling.  Then rolled over his cluttered desk, and finally towards Ollie busy in his own office. The lad was muttering and Alfie shook his head, eyes rolling… and then they landed on her.

Even through the distorted plane of glass in the door, Alfie was forced to admit it was one of the most stunning faces he had ever beheld.   The golden hair that framed it draped down and curling at the ends.   He knew it had to be worn up while working in the bakery, which meant she had styled before coming to his office.   He smirked slightly.  Their gazes held across the room, while she waited for his summons to enter.   Her sultry, sweet smile not fading while he made her wait, but acting like a siren call that caused a tightening in his gut.   She looked like summer and cool evenings spent by a fire.   The caramel streaks infused among the subtle waves giving the paleness of her skin a warmth, instead of being washed out.  She was uncommonly beautiful – and knew it.    And therein lay the cause of his hesitation.   That spelled possible trouble if she thought it would grant her power over him.    Thought she could catch him.  Alfie enjoyed what a woman might offer – but Alfie Solomons didn’t get “caught.”   Once again his fingers grazed through the ginger streaked hair along his jaw.   Through the glass her lips parted.  

Why she was at his office was another matter; but he could guess it was not likely official Solomon Bakery Business.   She had been flirting outrageously with him for weeks now.   Certainly he was not opposed to Y/N’s attentions; indeed she had been the starring role in many of his fantasies of late.   He imagined the soft, silky feel of that wheat and honey hair draped all around them as he took possession of her lithe, young body.    What he doesn’t like is the coquettish games.  How she’d smile and touch him lightly and then move away.  Darting her tongue out to lick her lips, and then a look of almost disdain would cross her pretty features.  Like he, a Jewish Crime Boss of humble origins was beneath her; a Golden Goddess.   No, he didn’t need that bullshit in his life.   What he needed was a good fuck to release the anxiety of the day.   If she was game for that – he didn’t give a fuck what this uppity princess thought of him.   Leaning forward he crooked his finger in a forward motion.  

Y/N swung through his office door, eyes set on his own, breasts thrust forward and hips swinging.   Her mouth spread in a wide smile and he cannot deny that it spreads a warm, happy glow straight to his loins.   His legs swung down to the floor while he patted the edge of his desk.   A moment’s hesitation before she crosses to only lean against the edge; one leg casually brushing against his own.  

“Lovely to see you Y/N as always.  How are things in the bakery today?”

“Just fine they are Mr. Solomons.  We’ve had a real good day.”   Her eyes dropped demurely to the floor briefly.  “Why I’ve barely had a chance to catch my breath at all.”   Then raised to meet his own, a subtle woeful shine that was designed to draw forth his softer nature.  “It’s lucky that I’ve had a few spare moments to come see ya.  Ya know, show my appreciation for hiring me that is.”    One hand had reached out to lightly graze the bare skin of his forearm.   Igniting a spark of lust within him to have those perfectly manicured hands on other places.  

“How has your day been Sir?   Is there anything ya need for me to do?”   A delicate brow raised, the hidden meaning not so well hidden at all.

Alfie studied her, a look of mild amusement only registering on his face.   He slid his chair upon the floor closing the gap between them, holding her gaze with his own penetrating stare.  She sighed, heaving her bosom high and ran a finger along the outside curve of her hips, before shifting as though she was about to make her leave.

“Well, I’d best be getting back. I just wanted to see you…”

A hard glint entered his gaze and she stopped mid-sentence; eyes wide and wondering.   It was at this moment Alfie decided he had tolerated enough of these games and it was time to take her in hand.  Literally.

She made to move away again, but a strong hand reached out and locked about her slender wrist.  

“Well love, I won’t lie to you, it’s been a hell of a day.  And come to think of it, there is something ya can do for me.”  His gaze didn’t leave her own as he yelled across the office space.   “Ollie, take a fuckin break.”

The lad darted from the office without a backwards glance.    She shifted nervously wondering if she had bitten off more than she could chew with this man feared by so many.   Even though the way he commanded so easily was making her nether regions quiver.   She drew a shaky breath, but was determined to not falter.   Trying to regain the upper hand, she leaned forward, fingers light upon his chest while she removed the glasses from around his neck.   Nails briefly grazing through the longer length of his hair above his shirt collar.  The smile she cast hinting at untold promises.   Promises to be bestowed at her fickle will.  He smiled back, the stillness of his body suggesting he was powerless to her magnetic pull.   His one hand reached for her own smaller ones, a gentle squeeze and she felt sparks burst within her entire body.  She began tracing that vein again…

Suddenly he exploded in raw power and sexual energy pulsed through the air, as he gripped her firmly about the neck and bent her back over the desk.  He paused briefly to give her a chance to voice protest — her eyes were wide and her chest heaved, but she said nothing.    Those lean fingers made short work of her blouse buttons, eyes never leaving her own.  His rough hands a light graze across the exposed flesh at first.   Her skin shivered in the coolness of the office though being overcome by the power he exudes over her has sent a hot flush coursing through her veins.    Then it’s all business of his mouth, beard and hands everywhere.   He never kisses her – just glides his warm mouth over her skin, the soft whiskers following.   Granting her a taste of what might be and she bites her tongue to keep from begging him to go further.   The contrast of his warm flesh and the cool imprint of his various rings almost sending her over the edge. 

Pushing her further back, his hands reached beneath her skirt and slowly slid up her legs; gently spreading them apart.   Her breath hitches when his head dives between them, while the light touch of a finger traces the outline of her panties.   He goes no further, but drags his beard scratching along her inner thighs before moving to cover her mound through the thin cotton material with his warm mouth.   She’s writhing, no longer able to keep from begging for more and pushing her pelvis into his face as his mouth moves over the soft cotton covering.    The strong grip of those hands squeezing her thighs and her mind is tumbling, wondering what his tongue might feel like.   Abandoning all pretense, she boldly reached down and tried to move her panties aside.   Alfie doesn’t stop, but gripped her hands and held them tightly pinned to her sides.   A growled grunt vibrates against her centre and a moan escapes against her will as she almost comes right there.   The wetness seeped through and he pressed his tongue briefly against her bud.   Moving up, he rubbed his beard against the soft roundness of her stomach and his large hands grazed over the sensitive skin covering her ribs to grab a handful of breast.   His eyes watching her closely; head tipped back, jaw slack and panting with need.   Her own eyes squeezed shut so she missed his slow smile of satisfaction.  

As suddenly as he started, he pulled away; leaving her limp and wanting him more than ever.   Her eyes liquid pools of unquenched desire, while he seems barely affected.   Save for the satisfied smirk and hard gleam in that stare he fixed upon her.   Waiting.  Watching her reaction.   Testing her further, his hands slowly slide up her body and once more he bent his mouth to skim along skin already showing the red rashes of his attention.  Lightly he skimmed along the delicate fair surface, his hot breath and the tickle of his beard spiraling her arousal further.   Y/N reached shaky hands to hold him closer, but he doesn’t allow her touch and pins them above her head.    Bending his face so close she thinks finally she will know the feel of those full lips upon her own.  She smiles softly back and they hold the moment.   Alfie merely brushed the corner of her lips with his own, whispering against their fullness; his voice deep and low.   But she can detect it’s also thick with need.  

“I say when, where and how it fuckin happens sweetie.  Now get back to work.”

Just like that he released her and strode away in that swagger that makes a woman want to abandon pride and chase after him.   He doesn’t even look back as he exits his own office.   Confused and mildly affronted, she fastened her blouse and returned to the bakery on wobbly legs.   Visibly shaken as she resumed her duties.    Ms. Shannon takes one look at her dazed stare and raised red rashes upon her throat and upper chest, and shakes her head knowingly.   As the hours slip by, her excitement dwindles into a sweeping embarrassment that infuses her cheeks with a heated blush.   Did she entirely misjudge the man?   Or worse, her own powers of seduction?   Suddenly she’s not so confident regarding their next encounter.    Her nerves a tangled mess as the hours pass slowly by.   Just before closing, Ollie strides purposefully into the kitchen office where she sits at her desk gathering her personal affects.   Not meeting her gaze, he simply hands her a note,

“From Mr. Solomons, Miss Y/N.”

She accepted the note, trying to search his face for some sign of the contents, but faithful, stoic Ollie reveals nothing of his employer’s intent.   Nodding his head, he took his leave.   Y/N opened the note to discover an address and a time scrawled in his neat handwriting.   A PS “wear that polka dotted dress, and don’t be late.”    A slow smile of satisfaction spread across her face as a warm glow pulsed through her entire body.   He’s played his hand, and now the play is hers.  Will she take a risk and up the ante?

We’ll see who says when and where Mr. Solomons.

She’d wear the polka dotted dress as per his request.   It wasn’t like she had not seen his glances rake over her curvy form whenever she wore it.

But she wasn’t above making any man – even Alfie Solomons - wait a little.   Her smile and confidence were back in place as she closed the door on her office and left the bakery with her head held high. 

~

EDIT:  DUE TO POPULAR DEMAND, THIS FIC WAS EXPANDED TO THREE PARTS

All Business (Just you Wait, Part Two)

Well Played -   (Just You Wait, Part Three/Conclusion)

This was an anon request so I’ll just tag my Hardy clan - sorry if I miss anyone.

@brinabear458, @badassbaker, @banes-tshirt, @james-k-delaney, @thihaf, @readsalot73,

“you know what maybe I just need to get laid. maybe that’ll just change some shit around. thats another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. someone like [censored] were I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh… weisses fleisch! dein weisses fleisch emegt mich soo… Ich bin dech nur ein gigilo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh… the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair; jet black, blond, white, brown. ahhh I just want to fuck! call it teenage hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist… BJ ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [censored] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work.. instant hard on. I couldnt stop staring. and others like [censored] in my gym class, [censored] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. mmmm I can taste the sweet flesh now… the salty sweat, the animalistic movement… Iccchhh… lieeebe…… fleisccchhhh. who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then ‘fuck em like an animal, feel them from the inside’ as Reznor said.”

-Eric Harris, 11/17/98

anonymous asked:

do you think eric genuinely had a crush on brandi or did he only like her for her looks? Bc no offense i find it hard to believe that eric could like someone that stupid omg

Eric, without a doubt, only liked her for her looks. Given how he talks about her behind her back with his friends.

Eric’s Friend: What? What do you mean sure? You know you wanna tap that.

Eric: Sure. Well of course, who wouldn’t? Most people would.“

When he talks about her, he refers to her looks, not her redeeming personality traits. But it wasn’t just Brandi that Eric only liked for her looks. Eric expresses many times how he cares more about attractiveness over someone’s personality. 

“ I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh, the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair, jet black, blond, white, brown…I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [censored] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work.. instant hard on.. I couldnt stop staring. and like [list of names] in my gym class…” 

The fact he lists a bunch of names and also writes what physical traits he likes in women, shows he’s only attracted to their physical body and nothing else. In addition, he has also written specifically what his view on love is when he was giving relationship advice to his female friend.  

Eric: but then again, remember this: love in my view means something different to everyone. what one person calls true love can be just another cheap thrill to another.

——

Eric’s friend: i think im just obsessed with the idea of a great boyfriend and hes the closest i got.

Eric: hm, that might be it. might just want to exaggerate our feelings and romanticize them. 

That’s not to say that Eric wasn’t capable of falling in love, but while he was alive he never had to chance to a find a girl that he genuinely cared for that went beyond just her appearance. If Eric had a little more time to live, he would’ve experienced that which would’ve changed his mentality. 

HATE! I’m full of hate and I Love it. I HATE PEOPLE and they better fucking fear me if they know whats good for em. yes I hate and I guess I want others to know it, yes I’m racist and I don’t mind. Niggs and spics bring it on themselves, and another thing, I am very racist towards white trash p.o.s.s like [censored] and [censored] they deserve the hatred, otherwise I probly wouldnt hate them. Its a tragedy, the human nature of people will lead to their downfall. Peoples human nature will get them killed. whether by me or Vodka, Its happened before, and not just in school shootings like those pussy dumbasses over in Minnesota who squeeled. throughtout history, Its our fucking nature! I know how people are and why and I cant stand it! I love the nazis too… by the way, I fucking cant get enough of the swastika, the SS, and the iron cross. Hitler and his head boys fucked up a few times and it cost them the war, but I love their beliefs and who they were, what they did, and what they wanted. I know that form of gov couldn’t have lasted long once the human equation was brought in, but damnit it sure looked good. every form of gov leads to downfalls, everything will always fuck up or yeah something. its all DOOMed god damnit. this is beginning to make me get in a corner. I’m showing too much of myself, my views and thoughts, people might start to wonder, smart ones will get nosey and something might happen to fuck me over, I might need to put on one helluva mask here to fool you all some more. fuck fuck fuck it’ll be very fucking hard to hold out until April. If people would give me more compliments all of this might still be avoidable… but probably not. Whatever I do people make fun of me, and sometimes directly to my face. I’ll get revenge soon enough. fuckers shouldn’t have ripped on me so much huh! HA! then again its human nature to do what you did… so I guess I am also attacking the human race. I cant take it, Its not right… true… correct… perfect. I fucking hate the human equation. Nazism would be fucking great if it werent for individualism and our natural instinct to ask questions. you know what maybe I just need to get laid. maybe that’ll just change some shit around. thats another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. someone like [censored] were I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh… weisses fleisch! dein weisses fleisch emegt mich soo… Ich bin dech nur ein gigilo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh… the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair; jet black, blond, white, brown. ahhh I just want to fuck! call it teenage hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist… BJ ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [censored] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work.. instant hard on. I couldnt stop staring. and others like [censored] in my gym class, [censored] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. mmmm I can taste the sweet flesh now… the salty sweat, the animalistic movement… Iccchhh… lieeebe…… fleisccchhhh. who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then “fuck em like an animal, feel them from the inside” as Reznor said. oh… thats something else… that one NIN video I saw, broken or closer or something, the where the guy is kidnapped and tortured like hell… actual hell. I want to do that too. I want to tear a throat out with my own teeth like a pop can. I want to gut someone with my hand, to tear a head off and rip out the heart and lungs from the neck, to stab someone in the gut, shove it up to the heart, and yank the fucking blade out of their rib cage! I want to grab some weak little freshman and just tear them apart like a fucking wolf. show them who is god. strangle them, squish their head, bite their temples into the skull, rip off their jaw. rip off their colar bones, break their arms in half and twist them around, the lovely sounds of bones cracking and flesh ripping, ahh… so much to do and so little chances.
“weisses
fleisch”
- perfect
- song
- for
- me
—  Eric Harris, 11/17/98