BADDLUCKCLUB : an independent & selective fandomless oc multimuse. sideblog associated with @10ccs low activity, nsfw & 21+ only.
loved by billie. est 2023. | start here |
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Jules of Nature
will byers stan first human second
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DEAR READER
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@baddluckclub
BADDLUCKCLUB : an independent & selective fandomless oc multimuse. sideblog associated with @10ccs low activity, nsfw & 21+ only.
loved by billie. est 2023. | start here |
starter call here too
and when i make hangman adam page micah’s fc what then
pov micah kicking you out of the bar
and when i make hangman adam page micah’s fc what then
“uh…” she thinks about it for a second, pursing her lips together. that is a good question. she’s honestly never tried it before and from what she has been told the witchblade ‘has no limits’. still, she’s not the most skilled user in it’s history.
eve looks at stevie with a shrug and then closes her eyes to concentrate. she’s not sure what to think about. most of the time it just comes naturally, something that the witchblade knows how to do. there’s effort to it, but it some things seem easier than others.
a full minute passes before she opens one eye, the phone still locked. “no.” she blows a breath, pocketing the phone. “how hard is it to unlock a phone the old fashioned way do you think?”
stevie frowns at the phone, watching it disappear into eve’s pocket. well, it was worth a try. “you want to guess the passcode? i don’t think we’re that lucky. —wait.” her eyes brighten, like she’s just figured out how to solve their problem. a smile is quick to follow.
holding out her hand and waggling her fingers, she says, “let’s see if we can unlock it with his fingerprint.” she has no qualms about using a dead guy if it solves their problem, and if this works, she’ll feel a little less bad about killing him. "i don’t think he’ll mind.”
girls will "🥺🥺🥺🥺" their way out of everything
We go in, get a drink, figure out what the dicks we’re gonna do with Weekend at Bernie’s back there.
SWEET/VICIOUS (2016)
Ant and Spider in Heartbreak High (2022)
eve forgets often forgets just what stevie is capable of. the way she seems to enjoy causing pain and loses herself in it. to eve, stevie is her best friend who’s a little crazy at times. but well, she is a criminal.
the evidence is right in front of her face, but eve is only concerned that her friend is alright. the man who is most likely dead now wasn’t any kind of good person. he was a trafficker, a low life piece of shit.
atleast she can justify it that way.
“well, kinda.” but eve shrugs, walking over to the mad and kicking him in the ribs. he doesn’t respond in any way, not even a groan or muscle twitch. with the way his head looks she doubts there’s any life in him.
she stops to think, tapping her metal boot on the ground. “here uh let’s see if he a phone on him or something.”
“sorry,” she says with an apologetic grimace. it always happens so fast. one moment she’s in control, and in the next, she’s someone else, not not in control, but in some semi-fugue, manic state.
she tries to wipe the blood off on her jeans, annoyed that she’s going to have to trash yet another pair. it looks like she’s going shopping this weekend. with a sigh, she joins eve by the guy. since she killed him, she figures she should be the one to pat down his corpse. she crouches down and starts searching all his pockets.
“mmmm—here.” she has to nudge him over to slide it out of his back pocket. the screen is a little cracked, but it looks like it works just fine. “it’s locked. can you unlock it with your powers or something?”
@wtchblde said: "there's a possibility the dishwasher is leaking, and by possibility, i mean that there is a standing inch of water in the kitchen now."
he’s already rummaging around his closet for his tools, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. he keeps them around because god knows the landlord isn’t going to do anything to benefit the building. that falls on all the tenants.
“there’s a possibility i’ll be there in a minute. i’ll bring extra towels.”
who is brave enough to ship with stevie
Ready Or Not, 2019
Dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Tyler Gillett
@baddluckclub
far from unusual for a fight to break out in a bar. it's uncommon for it not too. especially in a bar like this, where me with short temper and large pride some to. sergei doesn't know and doesn't care what started the fight, he's merely watching. sipping on his tequila, enjoying the show.
what does catch his eye is the bouncer. blue hair, eye patch. he appears behind them and breaks up the fight within seconds it seems. his motions seem too quick to see, and the men scurry off with their tails between their legs.
now sergei is intrigued. he throws some money at the bartender, straightens his shirt and follows the bouncer outside. he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. "so where does a man with one eye learn to fight like that?"
micah can sense sergei's approach before he can see him, an intent presence niggling at the back of his mind, but he keeps on, stepping back outside to resume his post.
when sergei steps out after him, micah watches him from the corner of his eye. it doesn't surprise him when he strikes up conversation. hands clasped in front of him, back straight, he turns, just a little, to talk to him. he might be a little warmer, but he's on the clock and something is telling him to stay alert around a guy like this.
"i box," he says, like that explains why he can duck under a hit coming in from his blind spot. "i've been doing it since i was a kid."
he coughs out of a reflex. the punch should render him speechless, should leave him sputtering and breathless. instead he just laughs, clearing his throats and stands with ease. the coin of solomon is peaking through where the buttons on his shirt have come undone.
he almost wishes he could feel her punches. almost.
“good.” he smiles, straightening out his wrinkles shirt. they could go at it for hours if they wanted. round and round until one of them gets bored or tired.
if he had the time, maybe he would indulge. “i must ask before you take another swing at me have you considered my offer at all?”
she hops up onto his desk, crossing one leg over the other, and looking absolutely at-home.
“i have,” she says, brushing a stray curl away from her face, one she missed getting in the ponytail. “and i want forty-five percent. no less than that.” it feels like these negotiations have been going on forever, but she refuses to budge on forty-five. “the ball’s in your court now, sergei. you want my goods, then you’ve got to pay up. i told you that.”
the panic is palpable, cathryn’s own chest feeling from it. times like these she wished she had more talent in healing magic. the chaos in her fingers is the opposite of what’s needed right now.
she brushes charlie’s hair away from his eyes with the same fingers before standing. reluctantly she lets go of his hand to go and grab the pill bottle. it takes her all but five seconds to grab the orange bottle, pop the top off and pour two pills in her palm. she grabs a water bottle from his dresser as well.
she sits down on the couch, putting the pills in his hand and water bottle in his hand. cathryn figures there’s not much she can say to make the situation better, but she puts a hand on his thigh and squeezes.
just seeing the big, chalky pills helps. with a trembling hand, he tosses them back with some water, giving cat a shaky smile of thanks. exhaling slowly, he puts his hand over top of cat’s to give himself something to ground onto. his therapist says it helps, too, and they must be right because his shoulders slump a little and breathing comes a little easier.
“thanks,” he says eventually, exhaustion lining his voice. “i’m, um, sorry—about that.” it’s always embarrassing to have a panic attack in front of another person.
"and they are very hard to find." they're always sold out when she finally goes out to the store. she'll admit that she's been becoming more a recluse in the last few months. cathryn can't explain why, it's like an impending doom over her shoulder.
before her bender she spent three days just braining her hair. a needed change. it wasn't enough, of course. "maybe we could go somewhere and get snacks. together." she tilts her head. "leaving the house and all that."
it feels like she's being awkward. like she's never sure how to speak to charlie. "if you'd like, anyways. it doesn't have to be new orleans, we can stay in new york."
"new york's boring." okay, not really. he loves the city, but he's lived there for a decade; the shine wears off after a while. "let's hang in n'awlins," he says, trying to affect his best louisiana accent, which, with his own accent, just ends up sounding stupid.
"like a mini-vacation." you know, ignoring that she sort of, kind of also lives there. "a staycation where we mostly just go buy snacks."