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@basicbitchwrites
I am drunk on classic literature.
THE TEXAS CHAINSAW SERIES sentence starters !
this was made using dialogue from the first six movies. trigger warning for mentions of violence, murder, animal death, gore, drug usage, incest , ableist and misogynistic language, nsfw themes, and everyone just generally being assholes. feel free to edit these as you please.
“ i heard you, but it don’t mean much. ”
“ a dog will hunt. ”
“ you’re so dead you don’t even know it. ”
“ what kinda sick shit is this? ”
“ oh, you just hush. ”
“ i promise you, you and i are gonna have some fun. ”
“ what if i were to turn you loose, what would you give me? ”
“ don’t call me darling, dammit. ”
“ no, please! no! ”
“ that was for your own good. ”
“ do you think all i wanna do is kill you? ”
“ back up, pig fucker! ”
“ i’m starting to think you like wasting my time. ”
“ if that’s what you want, it’s up to you. ”
“ i wonder whose tongue this is? ”
“ what are you doing to yourself? ”
“ today i’m gonna use my tongue in ways the lord never intended. ”
“ you’re just trying to scare me into leaving. ”
“ they take the head and they boil it, except for the tongue. ”
“ how mad at me are you? ”
“ you don’t need to be walking these roads alone at night. you should get in. ”
“ stop, you’re scaring me. ”
“ no talking until after i say grace, asshole. ”
“ i’m gonna ask you nicely one more time. ”
“ yeah, you gotta watch it getting into cars with strangers these days. ”
“ people shouldn’t kill animals for food. ”
“ you have to get out of here. ”
“ oh my god, i’m way too stoned for this. ”
“ it’s easier to resist at the beginning than the end. ”
“ man, it’s hot in here. ”
“ please stop your damn bellyaching. ”
“ i smell bullshit. ”
“ you’re gonna get killed doing that. ”
“ you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. ”
“ i think you’re chasing the wrong tail, buddy. ”
“ i’ve got a perfect willingness to die. ”
“ you stay away from me, you fucking animal! ”
“ there’s more work to be done, lets get it over with. ”
“ you know why i’m here. ”
“ get your sweet little ass back in the dirt until i say otherwise. ”
“ look at me, i’m not a dope smuggler. ”
“ you can’t get cancer from not having sex. ”
“ i hate when this happens. ”
“ guess i’m falling apart on you, honey. ”
“ do you fuck all of your cousins or just the ones you find attractive? ”
“ that was beautiful form. ”
“ son of a bitch smells just like a slaughterhouse. ”
“ the only thing you’re gonna catch in this water is disease. ”
“ oh, he’s weird looking. ”
“ what’re the chances of a brainless bitch like you knowing how to use that thing, huh? ”
“ hey, what the shit? ”
“ it’s too much, i’m gonna be sick. ”
“ where you headed, man? ”
“ are you ashamed of your country? ”
“ what are you afraid of, that they might try to fuck you? ”
“ hell’s exactly what they raised. ”
“ there’s roadkill all over texas. ”
“ fine, i lied, but it’s not my fault they were stupid enough to believe it. ”
“ i guess that’s what brains look like. kind of like lasagna. ”
“ keep your voice down. ”
“ what you do is your own business. ”
“ boy are you dumb.
“ well, first i’m gonna kill you. it ain’t no fucking biggie. ”
“ your little ass is gonna be in big trouble. ”
“ how’d you get stuck way out here? ”
“ i did it for us. ”
“ are you afraid of a little blood? ”
“ you beautiful bastard, you. ”
“ i just thought of something so cool, what if we got into a wreck, and we crashed into the car in front of us and we all died. they could write a song about it. ”
“ they live off fear, they thrive on it. ”
“ the saw is family. ”
“ you wouldn’t lie to me, would you? ”
“ well lookie here, we’ve got ourselves a killer. ”
“ you’ve never had a date in your life you’re so ugly. ”
“ how often do girls blow their heads off in this shit hole town? ”
“ that was so not cool. ”
“ i have a question for you. ”
“ you’re not scared, you don’t know shit about being scared. not yet. ”
“ you better rocket, cowboy. ”
“ promise you won’t hurt me. ”
“ on a list of bad ideas, that one is way up there. ”
“ i’m sorry, but we’re all gonna die. ”
“ you just keep sweet talking me, dumpling. ”
“ that gun’s no good. ”
“ you think i give a god damn what happens to you? ”
“ you can’t do it alone. ”
“ put down the weapon, don’t be stupid. ”
“ there could be dead people buried all around us and we would never know. ”
“ you really think you’re something in that outfit, don’t you? ”
“ it is my fault. ”
“ there comes a time when every boy becomes a man. ”
“ come on and take a sip, you gotta have something to build up your strength. ”
“ i’ve got a mind to slit your damn throat. ”
“ i like that skin of yours. ”
“ after the glory, here comes the shame. ”
“ the old way, with the sledgehammer, see that was better, they died better that way. ”
“ that’s it. don’t call me dumb. ”
“ i’ll tuck you in special every night. ”
“ this is bullshit, i have rights. ”
“ quiet! you act like a pack of hounds. ”
“ how are you an expert on the dumbest shit? ”
“ you figure it out, it’s your life. welcome to the real world. ”
“ i don’t want to fight anymore. ”
“ what if they’re a murderer and they want us to follow them? ”
“ ladies love a man in uniform. ”
“ you got one choice, sex or the saw? ”
“ i oughta blow your fucking brains out right now. ”
“ get back in there! get your ass back in there. ”
“ you think this is a party? ”
“ i’ve never seen anybody die before. ”
“ basically if you’re buried right your skin turns into poison crisco. ”
“ i think you have a beautiful voice. ”
“ please, you can make them stop. ”
“ you blasphemous bitch! ”
“ he’s a really bad man. ”
“ what’s it gonna be, you gonna be the motherfucker who eats, or are you gonna be the poor sorry motherfucker who gets ate? “
“ this is your lucky day. ”
“ how about giving me a hand, asshole? ”
“ i just wanna go home, okay? ”
“ turned traitor for a piece of tail. ”
“ i had to do it. i used you. ”
“ can you believe we didn’t know each other yesterday? ”
“ you shut your cock sucker, you son of a bitch. ”
“ you’re a lot tougher than i thought. ”
“ i told you, i’m a bitch. ”
“ are there people in those bags? ”
“ if you get too hot, you can always take your clothes off. ”
“ you’re gonna get in my way. ”
“ i’m sorry, sweetie, i got a big mouth. ”
“ you expect me to do this by myself? ”
“ you can’t make me go back there. ”
“ i ain’t finished with you yet. ”
“ you just figure out how to do it and do it. ”
“ they just get dumber and dumber, don’t they? ”
“ i should have listened to my old man and went into real estate. ”
“ please, don’t let them kill me. ”
“ you like this face? ”
“ what the fuck is wrong with you people? ”
“ get that thing off my cutting board. ”
“ i ain’t got no fear left. ”
“ you’re embarrassing me in front of company. ”
“ i always get yanked into this shit. ”
“ shut up, you bitch hog. ”
“ okay, could you relax, because you’re not helping. ”
“ you brought this all on yourself. ”
“ try to speak plain, it saves time. “
“ i really wish you would call me ____. ”
“ do i have to do every damn thing around here? ”
“ how bad is it? i can’t feel it. ”
“ do you mean talk or dance around the real subject with chit-chat? ”
“ you don’t understand nothing. ”
“ we’re on our own now. ”
“ excuse me, you mind getting the fuck out of my way? ”
“ we’re not even having fun yet. ”
“ could be worse, at least we’re not as bad off as those people in the body pit. ”
“ i just can’t take no pleasure in killing. ”
“ you’re all gonna pay for your sins. especially you. ”
“ i believe you, i might be the only believer you’ve got. ”
“ just some things you gotta do. don’t mean you gotta like it. ”
“ hard ass, me? maybe a semi hard ass but i’ve got a soft heart. ”
“ i’ll take you back to hell. ”
“ okay, miss priss, cut that out. ”
Janesville Daily Gazette, Wisconsin, January 26, 1950
4. Sebastian Against the World
Brideshead Revisited (1981)
franz kafka moodboard
The Tacoma Times, Washington, October 27, 1909
floralege:
it’s common knowledge that emmy’s inner circle is impossibly small —– if even enough to constitute a circle or any shapely figure, considering it had mostly been dominic, off and on, and lux. perhaps a few brunch pals that she actively sabotaged out of boredom, but those two had, for better or worse, become her touchstones in this city. the heartless creature loved dominic and, biggest surprise of all, she loved lux. not enough to tell either of them at any point ever, but even bastien scarcely received those drunken declarations.
she understood why lux left —– her general lack of empathy didn’t allow for any excuses, though, and lux had left emmy to watch thing one and thing two play out their high school fantasies on a public scale. she resents and adores her in equal measure, the usual cocktail of emmy’s relationships. “do you think a few kisses are enough to give you a clean slate ? you’re off gallivanting in the sunshine, and i’m just one rotted wedding dress away from becoming mrs. havisham, thank you very much. ” she makes note of lux’s fresh fillers, silently impressed by their subtle appearance, and finally cracks a smirk. “ you beast. ”
“I’m not sure I want a clean slate. I think I’d much rather wallow in the dirt, with you.” But just for this weekend, she reminds herself. She’s only back - back here, back in New York, back in time - until the storm passes. After seeing Dominic, the pouring, howling, gloomy weather that's grounded her here overnight had blown her through the dark streets to Emmy’s front door. Lux is windswept wild and chilled to the bone by it all but she won’t let herself be made cold, again: bleak, and bitter, and frozen in place like the others are. No. She’s leaving as soon as she can. Going back up north to thaw herself out again.
--Because, she tells herself, if she feels any warmth in Emmy’s touch, it’s an illusion. People dying of hypothermia often feel irrationally, inexplicably hot.
“You should come back to Monte Carlo with me,” she says, and she’s really not sure whether she’s just being polite or not. “You don’t have to gallivant. There are plenty of rich fools to torture in Monaco, you know?”
“--Speaking of, I saw Dominic and Daisy’s place,” her voice drops to a conspiratory hiss and she leans in close, her smirking, painted mouth to Emmy’s ear. It’s like a trigger word. Like muscle memory for nasty gossip...But she catches herself, her breath, all that she says is, “they said you stayed with them a while..? Huh.”
orumad:
@basicbitchwrites
“turn a profit,” he repeats, crossing the room to pluck a hidden pack of cigarettes from a drawer. like they’ve been waiting there for this exact moment. bad habits really do die hard, or not at all. “one of the old expats taught you that?” dom’s gaze wavers to the hall, to where a small voice hums to herself. it’s likely not all the expat’s done for lux.
he sits on the edge of his desk and looks down at her settled in his chair. thoroughly weirded out by the clear turn of the tables. one hand slowly sweeps his papers away while the other proffers a cigarette. “yes, i can see that.” his bitterness rears it’s head for no particular reason, maybe just for old times sake. “you don’t know poverty – emmy was living here for awhile.” and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. having surrounded himself with emmy, daisy, and brigitte - the twins, favoring their mother, omitted themselves from the equation - dom’s done well to suffocate himself with those with only the highest expectations of him. seems only fitting that lux join the table again.
“who’s the kid?” he tries not to do any pregnancy math for fear of it equaling a hefty addition to his child support bills. tilting his head, he ashes onto the business papers. “who are you these days?”
“No. I took some night classes. Finally got my high school diploma,” shrugging, she mimes modesty. Pauses a beat - just long enough to let him feel bad, as if he’s capable of it - before continuing. “Landed a legal aide job. Discovered a government cover-up. Took on a case that became the largest class action lawsuit in American legal history...What can I say? That’s just life as a struggling single mother.”
“I’m kidding, Dom. --I’m actually sleeping with my divorce lawyer.” That’s not true either, but she doesn’t want to tell him too much. Certainly doesn’t want to tell him that she doesn’t even have a lawyer. She brushes the subject away with a fan of paper documents, and taps them, “let’s save that for mediation. I really just came for these.”
--And, yet, she finds herself accepting a cigarette. Through a mouthful of smoke she insists she’s quit.
“Emmy?” She chokes on smoke as she says the name. Coughs as though the vocal cords used to make the sounds are dusty from disuse. She has to take another swig of her drink to wash it away. It’s beginning to wash too much away: intention; inhibition; the past couple of years. --She swears she doesn’t really drink these days, either.
“Emmy and Daisy?” Because of course Daisy lives here. There’s almost nothing around to suggest it, but that’s exactly how Lux knows. She’s such a nonentity that she doesn’t even leave a mark. That’s why Dominic likes her so much. Or thinks he does, anyway...Lux has never been able to figure it. She’d stopped trying. Or thought she had, anyway. “She was living here, as in she’s dead under the floorboards, now? I almost couldn’t blame you.”
“The kid? Oh. No idea. We just met earlier today, actually, in the corridor. --I thought she was your new young thing.” She shrugs a Saint Tropez tanned shoulder, but it’s suddenly just a little bit frosty. He really will have to take her to court to find out. --Or at least break out the strong stuff she knows is hidden under the desk. Brigitte is as good as lost to Lux, but her littlest daughter is just hers.
“You wouldn’t like me, these days,” she assures him, almost laughing. She’s all easy and au natural, she explains, “like one of those coked-up nineties supermodels who runs a lifestyle blog, now.” --She doesn’t add that she’s not sure if he ever liked her. Or that she’s not sure she likes herself these days, either.
“--What about you?” She quirks an amused brow, looks him up and down over the rim of her drink. Still sharp. Devastating. Sad. He hadn’t changed. He’d never change. Sarcastic, but not as snappy as she’d like, she says, “I hardly recognised you.”
“Why is everyone giving me nasty stares?”
“They’re not giving you nasty stares. That’s just how people look, most of the time.” Eyes glazed, gazing away, all blase malaise. Lux catches a bleary, boring eye over her daughter’s shoulder, and remembers when people used to look at her, instead of through her. Strained for her, smiled at her, gave her all their attention…She used to think that everyone was just happy. Turns out they were just happy to see her. “It’s how they look at you, when they can’t see how pretty you are. –Here.” She leans across the table to pull Bee’s hat off, push her sunglasses on top of her head…She wants to brush the hair away from her eyes and fuss over her colouring but she stops herself. She’s not sure it’s welcome; thinks there may be a reason Bee has hidden her face, wrapped herself up in layers. They haven’t really spoken face-to-face since…Since everything happened.
“I wish you’d come visit me in Monaco,” she says finally, “the only thing that could make you prettier is a tan.”
In my experience, what every true artist wants, really wants, is to be paid.
Soul Music (Terry Pratchett)
“Good God.” Lux presses a quick, lipstick-y kiss against first one cheek, then the other. “You’re the crypt keeper.” She leaves two smears of pink behind, but Lux is the one who dabs at herself with the silky cuff of her blouse; as if kissing might have left a layer of dust and ashes. Holding her by thin shoulders, out at arms length, she looks Emmy up and down and shakes her head. “Tragic. I’m almost afraid to touch you, you might fall apart. You’re rotting in this city, Emmy.” --And she is, but only in the pale, narrow, Morticia Addams’ way. Age and regret have hollowed out her cheekbones and darkened her eyes, and she’s impossibly chic in a way that was only ever hinted at, before.
As ever, Lux had done the opposite. Rounded off her sharp edges with Italian food and French wine. Let her dark roots grow in, sunned herself brown, tried to let go...It hadn’t worked, obviously. She’s back. They’re both back. Together again.
She cups Emmy’s sharp chin, cracks a smile that’s a little bit filler these days, and leans in for a proper kiss. “You witch.” @floralege
“You’re not welcome.” Emmy n dacey
“I keep telling you, I’m alive,” he sighs so hard he exhales more dust, “you can’t exorcise me by telling me I’m not welcome. –Anyway, that’s not ghosts. That’s vampires. You of all people should know that, you leech.” But he doesn’t storm off this time, and not just because he’s not sure whether his calve muscles have atrophied from sitting at his desk so long. He’s been alone - bar the mice, the silent staff, and the spectres of his dead ancestors - for over a year. And while, yes, that is his idea of a vacation, he finds he’s almost missed this; the mental torture, the barbs back and forth, the uneasy feeling of impending doom. He’d never left, but this feels like coming home.
–Which is tragic, obviously, and worrying in a way he doesn’t quite have words for…But he’ll leave that to wine and his therapists. For now, he pours two glasses of wine, and hands one to Emmy. “Have you managed to bleed me dry financially too, yet?” He asks, which is, for them, almost like how’ve you been?