this is bad im bad

hey, you, don’t you think its kinda cute that i died right inside your arms tonight?

Mare: From now on we’ll be using codenames. You can address me as ‘Eagle One’

Mare: Maven. Codename. ‘Been there, done that.’ 

Mare: Cal is ‘Currently doing that.’

Mare: Kilorn. Codename. ‘It happened once in a dream.’

Mare: Evangeline is ‘I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.’

Mare: Farley. Codename. ‘If I had to pick a chick.’

Mare: Cameron is…

Cameron: 

Mare:

Cameron:

Mare: ‘Eagle Two.’

Cameron: Oh thank god

auralime  asked:

Hello! I recently discovered your blog and I just wanted to say that all your Giorno x Trish content has put a big smile on my face and fluff in my heart! Thank you for that and you have a really nice blog!

[HEY IM FINALLY ANSWERING THIS, SORRY FOR THE SILENCE.  I’m so glad someone else ships this, I’m happy to spread the love! <333  Here, have this:]

Delitoonz Drabble

Cartoonz. He is brutality. The bashing in of a door with a steel toed boot, a slew of curses followed hand in hand with bullets. The shells litter the ground, sinking into the sawdust and blood. Bloody handprints and the smell of gasoline tail his shadow. It stains his fingers, stains his clothes, stains his mask. A devious grin, the next clip slides in. Click, click, click, bang.


Delirious. He is finesse. A viper unwitnessed, striking deep into artery and muscle. The blade flicks and like an intricate dance, it catches the light so beautifully. So eye striking, so beautiful, so deadly. Cold eyes and an even colder blade. His painted grin smeared in red. And as another rises to the challenge, his weapon of choice continues to flick, flick, flick…

Together they are broken windows and bloodied mirrors. They are laughter, unstable and jagged like the wounds they inflict. A boot pressed to a throat, a playful shush to cracked and bloodied lips. Together they are the endless tide that smashes and tears at the coastline, eroding everything away. Bit by bit. Security broken, silence shattered, safe havens and homes no more.

They are the open window you find when you wake up in the morning. They are the bloody handprint that was left on the door. They are the broken cameras and guard dogs snoring in their houses.

They are your sense of security, now broken.