previously-known

[previously-known]

Tifdany shit 1

I woke up from my nightmare at 3 in the morning, my husband was knocked out still, which was good. I hated him seeing me like this, cold sweat and breathing hard, and scared. He didn't know it, and I couldn't blame him, I hadn't told him. I was pregnant. Around 3 weeks pregnant. And I was scared, in fear of ending up like my parents, well at least my mother. She was, fucked up. I shook my head and got out of bed and walked to the window, opened it and sat next to it (big windows, i live in a mansion). The night was beautiful. I lived in the rich rich area of Tartarus. The part that was underwater. The place was full of mansions, expensive cars, best bars and strip clubs anywhere (used to be a bartender at one of the clubs). And, of course some distance away, the kings castle. Which was, quite impressive. So under the large ass underwater dome that covered the rich portion was full of street lights, neon lights and was bright. Outside the dome, sea life and you could sometimes see the islands neon lights. Also, just because it's pretty cool, whoever made the dome was a genius. You could drop the payload from a b-24 and it would be fine. Plus, it simulated weather. Sometimes they had it rain by opening up small sections in the dome, and it would rain, run to drains, and back out into the ocean. It also had UV lights for sunshine, and they'd turn them off at night. Ran off of a clock so it was like being anywhere else in the world. Just there was no snow. Pretty damn impressive in my opinion. But I wasn't thinking of that. I was staring out the window, a lit cigarette between my fingers and staring out. It was cold, always was a night, and I let the cigarette burn until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and looked, it was Tommy. His long black hair in his green eyes, pair of shorts was all he wore. And for a skinny guy, damn. He had some muscle. His skin was pale, and I could see his breath when he took one. "Babe, its still early, its cold out and smoking isn't good for you." he said. His voice was calm, and sweet and quiet. I nodded, tossed the cigarette, closed the window, but still sat by it. "Nightmare?" he asked, sitting down with me. I moved into his arms and rested my head on his shoulder. "Yes. But I don't want to talk about it." "I understand." he said, running his fingers through my hair. And I knew he meant it. Tommy had once lived in West side on the island. And just to make a living of some kind, and to keep his mother alive, he was thrown into the pits, as we called them, to clean the messes that monsters like the Grim Reaper or Ryan Richie which were only 2 or the dozens of rather well known ones. A few big ones from 8 years ago when he was there was Jack The Ripper, Hannibal the Cannibal, and the Executioner, and those 3 were, well some fucked up people who always made more messes than needed. Hannibal had been killed recently by Ryan and Grim, who were only 24 and 17 from reports. Which was rather impressive, that they managed to kill a pro like that without getting fucked up. Especially Grim, who from reports, only has one leg, and who did most of the work. Jack and the Executioner were still hiding, but we knew they were still in the pits. As I thought, about my nightmare and the hell Tommy lived through, somehow, I must have drifted off to sleep. Because Tommy woke me up at 7, as usual, with his cooking. Tommy, was a fantastic cook. I mean, like Italian grandma fantastic cook. I got out of bed, which I guess he had moved me back into, walked to the bathroom, showered with the water as hot as possible and the radio playing. When I got out, I put my brunette hair in a pony tail, put on Tommy's old dark red hoodie, black skinny jeans and a pair of black boots, issued to all cops. I slid my belt with my holster on it, reached into the bedstand and pulled my pistol out. I'm no good with guns, and never could remember names. All I knew was mine was a .45 caliber pistol and all black. And I always just called it Sally. Before I went downstairs, I grabbed 2 extra magazines and a small revolver (a .38 with a short barrel. I just called this one Wyatt. Like Wyatt Earp, cause Cowboys and revolvers.),slid that into my boots and went downstairs and to the kitchen, where i found Tommy cooking, but none of the servants were there. "Tommy," i asked. "Where are the servants?" Tommy looked up with that cute smile of his. "Let them sleep in. I know, you don't like that but i wanted to cook and clean the dishes for once." "But you do it all the time. We have servants for a reason." I argued, knowing i wouldn't win. "I know. But well, i wanted to do this." He said, handing me my bag and cup of coffee. I knew whatever he had cooked was in the bag, along with water, and some money. "Please be careful babe." He said, giving me a hug and a kiss. "I hate the actual island, and don't trust it. Please be careful." "I will." I said before heading out the door after another kiss and 'i love you's to the black sports car in the garage and driving to headquaters to meet with senior investigator. I was not excited about today. I didn't even get a chance to walk in the building. Senior investigator Wiley was already waiting for me by the beat up old suburban we took to the island. I got out of my car and to him. "Tiff, finally, lets get going and get this over with." He said. Wiley was a tall and lean older man, about late 50s early 60s. He had a cliché cowboy mustache, brown eyes full of hurt and his white hair was thin underneath his, he is a total cliché, cowboy hat. His body was covered by a black trench coat and feet by the same black boots as me. His voice was deep and had a slight southern draw to it. For a guy old enough to be my father, and looked as if he was old enough to be my grandfather, the guy was smart and quick. He could also walk into a room, and own it, and he was intimidating. Very intimidating. I can't think of one perp who wasn't intimidated by him. I mean, a tall guy who never smiles seems intimidating to me. "Yeah, lets go gramps." I teased as i hopped into the passenger seat and he got into the drivers seat. "Hello Tiffany." Josh mumbled from behind me. I jumped a little, smiled, and greeted him back. Josh, our profiler and strategist was shorter, but still thin. His hair was blonde, and always combed over. His eyes were blue, and no wrinkles around them at all. Or on his pale skin at all. He was 20, but there were no signs he ever showed facial reactions. Not even confusion or anything like that. He was quiet, and awkward around others. But, you put a gun in his hands and he'd never miss. Never. And Josh wore what he usually did, bitton up white shirt, black pants and same boots. Around his shirt was his black shoulder holster and on his head sat a fedora. He nodded, and looked back down at his phone, playing solitare or something. Wiley got in, started a car, and turned the radio to some oldies. Rule with him. Don't touch the radio. Ever.

[previously-known]

City storm siren, location unknown.  

[previously-known]

[previously-known]

[previously-known]

I hope that when I die, I get to see a stats list, like in video games. Stuff like what song you listened to most, how much time you spent talking to specific people. I think that’d be pretty interesting.

[previously-known]

Are u single?

“single” is a word the government created to give Americans tax disadvantages. if you’re asking me if im lonely the answer is yes.

[previously-known]

So i almost hit a kid with my car. I was driving through a mall parking lot and I guess the nearby school had just let out. Anyways this kid darts in front of my car and i slam on my breaks. And he dabs. This fucking kids automatic response to almost getting hit by my car was to just fucking dab. His last moments would have been a sick ass dab. It was an out of body experience.

[previously-known]

get this backpack and you’ll probably get laid on the first day of school

[previously-known]

Dodge should build a stadium in LA that hosts the Dodgers, (Dodge) Rams, and (Dodge) Chargers.

[previously-known]

YOU HAD ONE JOB RAFIKI!

[previously-known]

Blue bioshock lockscreens for iPhone 6!

[previously-known]

Lol I've been bitter and lonely since 2016

5 signs that will kill it in 2017

1. Aries 2. Capricorn 3. Gemini 4. Sagittarius 5. Libra

[previously-known]

me: *sucks a clown’s dick behind a elementary school*

someone: damn why that clown ain’t bother you?

me:

[previously-known]

[previously-known]

[previously-known]

Lmao this American girl walked up to a Hungry Jacks (Burger King) register with her drink and really, really loudly (I was at the other side of the place) proclaimed: “I asked for Lemonade, you gave me Sprite” in a really bitchy, entitled voice.

The cashier (and everyone within earshot) just looked at her like “the fuck is wrong with you”

In Australia, Sprite IS lemonade as far as we’re concerned.

Enjoy your 90c refund you cheap ass ho.

[previously-known]

Ryan Shit 1

Some shit I wrote. Idk what to call it, but yeah. So Ryan Shit it is until I figure out what to call it. So yeah, hope you enjoy I lay on the couch in my apartment. Well, not my apartment, technically it my roommates,Tyler. She let me crash at her place, only when I wasn't home. Woah, not home but live in this apartment, how? Well, to me, home is in the subways, or old subway tunnels, underneath the west side of Tartarus (whoever named the city was either stupid, drunk, or maybe both. Or prehaps, they just knew how shitty the poor would be treated. Oh well.) Anyways, I lay on the couch, running stitches through my forearm. What was left open on the cut dripping blood on my neck, shirt, a little on my face and on the couch. My phone sat on the desk, playing One Time by Marian Hill (call me gay, whatever. Fuck you. I enjoy the song.) As I pulled the last stitch through my arm and admired the decent (more like what in the fuck kind of stitching is that) purple stitches and now stitched up cut, the door bust open and laughter drowned out my music.  Sharon walked in, booty shorts and tank top almost off. Her hair was a mess and so was her makeup, stumbled in. She was drunk, again. Behind her, her drunk boyfriend followed, dick already hanging out if his pants and his shirt off, revealing off of his gang related tattoos and all. Guy even had his face covered and he was a total dick, so whatever Sharon seen in him was beyond me. Oh well.  Right when they came in, I grabbed my phone, slipped my black tanker boots on, and quickly walked out of the apartment. When they come on, thats my que to get the fucking shit bag out of Dodge. That means alcohol, and fucking. Lots of it, and just, they have weird a few weird kinks and shit. So no thanks, not a fan of pissing. So out the door and down the stairs and into the street I went.  As usual, it was raining. Not lightly but it wasn't like a downpour. Raining hard but not hard. Chicago was windy city, some other city's had weather names or something, Tartarus is rainy city. It rained almost all year. During winter it snowed, and fall it was usually just cloudy. Sun was almost not a thing. Sometimes it came out, but not usually. Why it rained and snowed or some kind of precipitation fall, fuck if I know. But again, whoever named the city was either stupid or drunk or didn't know Greek mythology. Oh well, not my concern.  I put my hood up, earbuds in and made my way to the subway station. It was only 9pm, for me, the night was only getting started.