#SO IT BEGINS

[courtesanofdeath]

She was always destined to die...

[simptasia]

DS9 + text posts part 1

[commander-writergirl]

Hey bro. I had to unfollow you because you’re advocating for the state that ethnically cleaned Palestinians for over a year. Unfortunate, because I really liked your writing.

Hmm glad to see you THINK you know what I believe simple because I don’t think Israel should be destroyed. FYI I don’t want Palestine destroyed either.

But maybe Hamas, a terror organization who is MURDERING PEOPLE (both Gazans and Israelis), shouldn’t be the government of Gaza.

Also this isn’t an airport, you don’t need to announce you’re leaving and don’t be a coward and do it on Anon.

[ask-woods]

It was Sunday, just thirty minutes before the selected time for everybody to arrive, when Woods finally began setting everything up.

The table that normally held guns was cleared, and drug over to the center of the Rook, a ham Frank himself had cooked placed in the center, before he laid out plates (paper plates, obviously, he wasn’t doing all those dishes) and silverware, moving a few chairs so everyone could sit.

It wasn’t much, but it would work.

Checking that he still had his hunting knife and pistol on him, he sighed, kicking back his feet on a nearby desk, and waiting until the chaos started.

[maryaday]

no. 30

[weirdlookindog]

[aheathen-conceivably]

New Year’s Day 1934 had come and gone. In the desert, it hadn’t seemed that much different than the height of spring or the dawn of fall. The day had been hot while the night was filled with the rage of dusty wind. Only with it had come the news that they would have celebrated with gusto five years prior: Prohibition Ends At Long Last! Instead it was marked in a silent kitchen, the first bottle of legal liquor they could purchase in over a decade sitting precariously between them. No one knew if it was there to enjoy or to numb.

Each one of them clutched their own glass in guilty silence, maybe even imagining the clinking of champagne flutes that could have once accompanied this occasion. Rather than carouse in a frenzy of dance, they studiously avoided each other’s eyes, afraid to break the silence with even a sip. Everyone except Josephine. 

She threw back her drink so that when she spoke her voice was slurred with anger and alcohol, “So you’re telling me you don’t even own the goddamn farm, Gio? The farm you lured us all out to.”

“Of course I own the farm, Josephine. It’s just a loan, it just means…”

“I know how a loan works. Better than you do apparently. It means if you don’t have their money in six months they take the house. It means they own you.” She turned to Antoine and Zelda, pointing her finger and her blame directly at them, “And you two knew? What the fuck have you been doing, lying and playing at being farmers while the roof over our heads slowly falls into someone else’s hands?”

Antoine remained impassive, the anger and guilt swirling in his glass turning him to stone; but Zelda’s eyes watered as she futilely tried to answer. Gio saw her panic and spoke for her, “Its my loan, Jo, and mine alone. I was supposed to have until the end of the year, okay? The bank moved up the terms on me. I mean this can’t be legal — just scooping up someone’s land like this when we had an agreement.”

“Oh the end of the year, was it? Then you could have swept it under the rug so that poor little Josephine never found out, huh? That it? Well you’re an idiot. All of you. Idiots.” She covered her face in her hands, unsure if the burning in her throat was from the whiskey or the sob she had suppressed, “Does it even matter if it’s tomorrow or December? You don’t have the money. Antoine barely earns shit, and your little farming pipe dream does nothing but keep us hand to mouth. Where’s the money going to come from? The same imagination that told you any of this was a good idea in the first place?”

Her insults finally succeeded in burying the sob so deep that she could look back up at Zelda, “I’m right aren’t I? We can’t make shit off this land?” Jo’s eyes dared Zelda to so much as try to challenge her, so all she could do was muster a guilty nod of her head in affirmation.

Jo looked back toward Gio, the anger rising as the words she really wanted to cry out stayed trapped in her throat. You all let me think you were happy. That our life was perfect and I was the problem. You let me sink and disintegrate while you lied to my face! I stayed because I love you, and this is how you repay me!

Instead she sharpened her words and her eyes into razor sharp daggers, “I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m going into town tomorrow. It’s been over a month. The saloons and the bars have to be opening back up. I’ll sling a drink, I’ll do anything. We lose the roof over our heads and it’s right on the route with the rest of the Okies, fighting for scraps and scrounging for gas while Violette starves. Pathetic, Gio. All of you. Idiotic and pathetic..."

Her speech was cut short by the sound of Gio’s chair scraping against the wooden floors, “Enough, Josephine! I told you to leave them out of it!” Then he went quiet, hands gripping the table as her steadfast gaze told him she would never be the first to back down. When he spoke again it was in a low, chilling voice that none of them had ever heard before, "And I won't let you do that. To go down there and sell yourself again."

Antoine and Josephine rose to their feet at the same time; the former’s eyes burned with threats all the while Gio stayed staring at Jo. Within a split second his voice returned to normal, full of remorse and pleading as he ran after her in a rush of apologies and reassurances.

Their footsteps echoed on the hollow porch before they disappeared on the sand below. Zelda’s fingers remained locked on Antoine’s wrist, anchoring him in place until his rage could subside. His mind was vibrating with Gio’s final words; but he looked down to Zelda, internally counting to ten as he let her face replace the images of wrapping his hands around Gio’s neck, making him feel just as trapped and suffocated as his sister did before he let him go, gasping and desperate for air.

By the time the image faded, there was nothing left in the room but silence.

He sank back into his chair, moving it closer to Zelda. The look of guilt still hadn’t left her eyes, and seeing it, Antoine’s anger settled into worry. She didn’t hesitate to speak to him the way she had to Jo, “I should go after her, shouldn’t I? I should have told her. I’m her friend. Her sister…”

As her words dried up his stepped in, “I know, Zelda. I know. But we couldn’t. How could we?” He already knew that she didn't have to answer, because they had tried to absolve their complicity a dozen times. At their most avoidant, they had told each other it wasn’t their lie to tell. But beyond their deepest desire to avoid the conflict at all costs, they both knew that with each lie to Josephine’s face they had made it their betrayal just as much as Giorgio's. Only they were backed into an impossible corner, simply hoping the loan would be paid off and it would never come to this; otherwise, it meant they might lose Josephine or their home, perhaps even both.

Now that it had, all they could do was repeat what they had told themselves and each other for years. “They love each other, you know that. They’ll work it out. They have to.”

Zelda answered with a small nod, still unable to take her eyes off the door left open to the desert beyond. Across its stillness she could swear she heard arguing. She knew that she couldn’t convince Josephine to stay, the same way that she couldn’t have told her and jeopardized her daughter’s home and happiness.

So she let Antoine pull her head down onto his shoulder, gradually coming to the real question boiling under the surface. But where are we going to get the money? Only it was no use voicing it, not when they and Gio had already discussed it a dozen times over. Both of them had looked for work, and however many times Zelda offered to do the same, they all came to the same conclusion: they couldn’t sell what they grew, but at least they could eat it. She was the only one who could really ensure they wouldn’t go hungry, and the one who’s presence at home was actually the most vital of them all.

So all they could do was sit and wait to see if Josephine would stay. Wait and hope.

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[trans-bucky-barnes]

Endless gifs of Bucky Barnes [16/∞]

[ex0rin]

quiet game (E) - 3.4k grian/ jimmy

TAGS: go25, electricity, shock collar, collars, under-negotiated kink, bullying, coming in pants, crying, rpf

He's hard. Honestly, he'd already been halfway there from just being told what to do. To sit and stay. Half hard from the way he'd had to open his mouth to wedge the harmonica in - that slight bite of metal at the corners of his lips stinging in all the right ways – Mostly, and annoyingly, there’d been a swirl of thickening heat that had built up low in his gut just from assuming that Grian would be the one pressing the button.

OR: that whole shock collar thing really does something to Jimmy. Grian notices.

READ ON AO3 HERE (🔒)

[terroeuxed]

Sebastian Armesto as Ben Johnson in Anonymous (2011)

part 1/

[polkadotjohnson]

MacGyver - Corkscrew (2016) (1/2)

[tsubaki94]

Phantom Comic Ch.4

Page 4<--–>  Page 6

Begining

Masterpost

[himemeiya]

I want is a picrew that uses RGU aesthetics okay and I will MAKE IT HAPPEN IF I HAVE TO

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

[autistook]

I DID IT APOLOGIES FOR MY UGLY LAUGH AT THE END