Kiana Khansmith
Game of Thrones Daily
Sade Olutola
Today's Document
taylor price
art blog(derogatory)
oozey mess
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Origami Around
Misplaced Lens Cap
Xuebing Du
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
One Nice Bug Per Day
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA
wallacepolsom
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
noise dept.
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
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seen from United States
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@burpeetales
The best part of being a fan of achievement hunter for so long is that I’ve seen the evolution of people thinking that Michael was a chaotic force that Lindsay had to deal with to Lindsay being the chaotic force that Michael has to deal with
#but michael is a controlled chaos #he points his chaos where he wants it#lindsay just leaks chaotic energy everywhere #no one is safe (via @agentnavi)
concept: fake chop Brett with lots and lots of tattoos.
credit to @thlaugraphics for the beautiful magazine templates
The crew all know basic first aid but it surprised everyone that Michael was very confident and skilled in it. They find out after a bad heist when he reset Jeremy's shoulder that he was part of a paramedic program back in Jersey.
OH MY GOD YES. WHY HASNT PARAMEDIC MICHAEL BEEN TALKED ABOUT MORE. WHY DID I NEVER THINK OF THIS.
It All Lies Here (chapter 2)
“The deed’s been done,” Lindsay crows, dropping a bundle of photos on Trevor’s desk. Trevor looks up from his phone, spreading the pictures out with a hand; the drug dealer Lindsay had been sent to rough up is in every one of them, in increasing stages of dismemberment. There’s one near the bottom of the stack with Lindsay and Meg both taking a selfie in front of the victim, blood pouring down his face while they flash peace signs.
“Good work,” Trevor says, collecting the photos and shoving them into a drawer. “Were the cat ears really necessary though?”
Lindsay just shrugs with a grin. “You know Meg.”
“Somehow I doubt it was Meg.”
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Lamborghini Aventador SV
by automotivelifestyle247 via instagram
Michael and his babes in a nutshell
I’m not even remotely sorry for this shitpost
Gavin is first drawn to Michael because of his love of fire. He knows it’s petty but the explosions, if just for a moment, make him feel like he’s made his goal of reaching the sun. The intensity and heat fill him with deep nostalgia, so he hangs around for the thrill of it. But after a while he finds he’s started to retain the information Michael keeps telling him. Michael starts to go into another long speech and he can understand at least somewhat the mechanics of it. He starts to notice other things too. Like how Michaels face lights up when he detonates a big one, one of the rare times he gets to see pure unmasked joy from his boi. Or more subtlety, the way Michaels brow scrunches up as he’s working or thinking. How he talks with his hands and can’t seem to sit down for too long. How he seems to have freckles everywhere, across his face but also down the back of his neck and arms. He starts to associate the beauty of explosions more with Michael than with the sun. The day he realizes he’s fucked is the day he looks up into the clear sky, and wonders if Michael would want to go to the beach with him today, instead of wondering for the billionth time what it’d be like to be up there.
LG Chocolate era Michael.
I saw 0 wake me up when September end jokes this year and this is the character development we all needed
The Fake AH Crew Magazine
A magazine curated, written, and edited by Los Santos’ most notorious crime family, The Fake AH Crew. Published by The Crew Publications Inc.
grand theft auto v + scenery (x)
The FAHC aren’t good people. They’re criminals, they’re the bad guys, they’re the monsters that parents tell their children to be wary of, and for a good reason, too.
They aren’t good people, but they will fight tooth and nail to be that way.
The “good people”, those are the ones they hate. The perfect politician with a plastic face and even more fake promises. Promises of making things better when they don’t even know how bad it is. The big name CEOs who dip their toes in donation money so they can fish some out for themselves, even though they have enough golden bars and diamond rings at home to fill a swimming pool. Government officials who make laws only for their personal gain, to put more $100 bills in their wallets so they can throw them at abused strippers later.
The Fake AH Crew hates them. Hates them with a passion because they were the ones who forced them into this life in the first place.
They’re the one’s who took away Geoff’s will to live as soon as he finished servicing, not giving him a cent to his name and making him live on the streets. Lucky for him, he was used to it from his rough childhood, so he knew how to climb the system and make a name of himself in the criminal ring so he wouldn’t be eaten alive.
They’re the ones who stripped Jack of her humanity, reducing her to her genitalia. The one’s who took away her rights and stopped her to the ground, leaving her to die on the side of the road where no one would care or even know her name. Lucky for her, Geoff helped her to her feet, or else she’d be rotting and another misgendered name in the obituaries.
They’re the ones who made Ryan believe he was insane. The ones who told him he was “crazy” and “dangerous” because his brain worked differently. He had no where to go without being miserable, forcing him to rob banks just so he could afford his medication, just so he could feel like a person. Forced him to rob the wrong house, where he found a strange man and woman who offered him shelter and food and Ryan felt like crying.
They’re the ones who fucked Michael over, keeping him in a corrupt system all because of a stupid mistake he made as a teen. He had to live the prison life for five years, and when he got out, he wasn’t a citizen anymore and he had no where to go except a man named Geoff who took him in when he saw a poor 25 year old on the side of the road, starving to death because all the soup kitchens ran out of funds years ago.
They’re the ones who made Gavin prostitute himself. Made him into an object for rich men and women to abuse just so he could eat that night. He hated how dirty he felt, but how else was he supposed to survive? Until a man offered family instead of sex, offered a safe haven so Gavin wouldn’t have to sell his body just to live.
They’re the ones who kept Jeremy from moving up. Kept him poor and barely surviving off minimum wage. They didn’t help the addiction that ran in his family and spit at him when he developed it, too. He didn’t remember the last time he ate because he spent his entire paycheck on meth and booze. If he didn’t, he would feel itchy and and paranoid, and eventually, he was evicted. Geoff found him on the side of the road, almost dead from an overdose.
So, of course they hate the “good guys”. The ones who fuck them over, all the while saying they’re for the people. That’s why, when a “good person” is found dead, a bullet hole in their head, a little fuck you note is stapled to their chest, sincerely from the FAHC.
If Michael was the explosives expert, Alfredo was the gun expert. Sure, they all knew a lot about guns at this point; knew how to shoot, to hold, to clean. But Alfredo seemed to have an unnatural sense when it came to guns.
He could take apart a gun in record time but took his time cleaning it. If they needed to stage a weapon, they went to Alfredo to create it. Complete with serial numbers etched into it. They would simply steal the real one when the time was right.
At first, Ryan thought the kid was full of shit. Who was he, strolling in here and saying they knew nothing of guns? Ryan was a trained assassin, a gun for hire. He’d dealt with more guns than Alfredo possibly could’ve ever had.
But Alfredo.
When Ryan held a Berreta 92 up to the back of his head, he merely laughed. “You’ve got the safety on and there’s nothing in there. Your real gun’s in your waistband. A Glock 19. Fully loaded but there’s at least three other loaded mags, two in your coat and one in your pants pocket.” He turned around with a grin on his face. “Are we finished here?”
Ryan stared at him in shock as he walked away, glancing down at the gun in his hand before flicking the switch off then back on. “How’d you know?” He asked the retreating figure.
Alfredo glanced back over his shoulder to wink at him. “I’m an expert at these things, baby girl. It would be best to not forget that.”
ryan haywood, the vagabond, mercenary, united states number one most wanted criminal —
refuses to show his crew his modeling portfolio that he keeps somewhere hidden in his bedroom (under the bed, according to jeremy)
tries to take home every stray animal that he finds only to be sad every time geoff tells him no
makes his bed every morning and takes a shower everyday because “i may leave diet coke cans, but i’m not as uncouth as gavin”
likes to go on jobs with just the lads because he can get away with being chaotic as possible and not get shamed by jack or geoff
constantly and accidentally gets referred to as “dad” for babying his crewmates, especially the lads
may be getting senile (according to gavin) because he mistakes alfredo and trevors’ names too often (maybe not as much as geoff, though)
Look, Alfredo is too perfectly suited as the Crew’s sniper and resident gun guru to be anything else, but just for a moment, just a quick second, i am in love with the idea of Hardcore Tabletop’s scumbag lawyer Alfredo. On Geoff’s payroll, sweeping in and achieving the impossible every time the LSPD think they finally have one of the Fake’s dead to rights. Strutting into the station as confident as you please, utterly unfazed by the filthy look every cop throws him, the way eyes linger on his clothes, his jewellery, the ill-begotten gains of his notorious employment. They know him on sight, of course, the Fake AH Crew’s infamous legal representation dresses just as flamboyantly as his clients, grins just as obnoxiously, carries that same untouchable swagger.
And honestly, why shouldn’t he? Alfredo has made himself indispensable to the most powerful crew in the city, has been welcomed with open arms, can tut and chide and bark instructions at the most infamous of crooks without a moment of fear or hesitation. Alfredo who has always been more than capable of handling himself but no longer needs to bother, safe as houses in Los Santos under the unwavering protection of the nastiest motherfuckers around.
He’s more than earned his place as the Crew’s not-so-secret ace in the hole, always coming in clutch with exactly the right motivation for the situation, be it bail money, blackmail, evidence of police misconduct or perfectly applied loop-holes in forgotten policies and archaic laws. Alfredo, who once successfully fished Michael out of lock-up six seperate times in one month, who bulldozed through the chief-of-police himself and had a smirking Geoff back out on the street before they could ask a single question, who once wrangled the fucking Vagabond out of the clearest slum-dunk of an arrest the force has ever seen. Alfredo, who dares the LSPD to find a single shred of evidence implicating him in misconduct, who grins and goads and openly revels in the furious glares when his clients walk free every damn time.
Jack unintentionally catching the moon ball in Last Call #137
fahc trevor and alfredo who look pretty much exactly alike
to the point where it genuinely terrifies other gangs, like, imagine you’re in a gunfight in a warehouse and you shoot a guy in the arm and he goes down, spitting expletives and threats
and you turn and run out of the warehouse and get maybe a block away and suddenly the same fucking guy comes around a corner at you, except now there’s no gunshot wound and he’s got fire in his eyes
trevor and alfredo who play this up with unbridled joy. they’ll wear the same outfits. someone will call one of their names and the other will answer. sometimes even the crew gets tripped up.
geoff has to do post-heist headcounts twice, never implicitly sure whether he counted two heads or the same one twice.
there’s a murmur of a rumor on the streets about a guy in the fake ah crew who moves so fast it’s like he’s in two places at once. trevor and alfredo hear about it and grin in unsettling tandem.
