law / breaker

watch me make 'em bow .

[lwyr-a]

4  .    )           there      is      so      much      potential      to      waste  .            he      could’ve      been      something      great    (    if      he      weren’t      what      he      is    )    but      the      fact      of      the      matter      is      that      he      is      even      better      now  .            unbeaten,            not      to      be      silenced      or      else      he      will      find      a      way      to      get      the      matter      taken      out  .            may      his      path      be      littered      with      the      remnants      of      darkness,           may      each      footstep      leave      a      bloodied      print  behind  .          but      nothing      can      ever      touch      him  .          that      has      already      been      ensured  .           ——            //            ind      pri      original      hbo’s      barry      inspired      oc  .            dully      noted      by      schiff  .            (   sideblog to fcches   )

[lwyr-a]

A    PRETTY    FACE    DON’T    MAKE    NO    PRETTY    HEART i    learned    that    buddy    from    the    start      ——      he  will  be  the  end  of  you   (   3 of ?   )

[maplefiasco]

Me when I realize I have to handle literally any adult situation.

[lwyr-a]

ʙʀᴜɪsᴇᴅᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ: barry

@lwyr· sent: “What did I just tell you?” emil @ barry 

Barry set the fancy fountain pen back down against the table, caught. “You said to not disturb anything…but that I can sit here.” Well, not in that order, but… Barry didn’t figure the pen was that important. He set his hands in closed fists against his thighs. “What can you…barely tell me about this one?” Client confidentially was a big thing in law, but…sometimes Emil could give him SparkNotes editions. And the cases were interesting, sometimes. Most times. 

Always… 

❛   OH,   so you chose to ignore what i just said .   ❜   at first, the gaze remains fixed on his file .   the words depicting gruesome acts,   however,   just dance around and around each other until their story becomes meaningless and it’s just another issue he has to deal with .   it’s a bother,   quite annoying to deal with actually but barry’s words steal his attention away .   his answer comes fast,   confident with a smirk only those who know they are the best are allowed to wear .   ❛   this time ?   not much until i win it .   ❜

client confidentially aside,   between the two of them knowledge of oh so many illegal acts hangs in the air .   it’s quite funny even to think emil is parading his wolf in sheep’s clothes around the law firm while he picks exactly which sheep gets to live and which ones die .    a finger comes up to point at the discarded pen before he makes a grabby motion .   ❛   just give me a moment,   I'll finish up and then we can go .   ❜

[coldofflesh]

                           people like us aren’t meant for happy endings.

[memeasaurus-promptus]

Annoyed/Frustrated Sentence Starters

"This is getting ridiculous."

"'Bleh bleh bleh, I'm very important, do what I tell you'. Bitch."

"If you're so good why don't you do it?"

"Stop. Just, fucking stop."

"What did I just tell you?"

"Do you even listen to me?!"

"What the hell did you even do?"

"A monkey could've done a better job."

"Are you done giving me lip?"

"Why." Slam! "Won't." Slam! "You." Slam! "WORK!"

"Hurry up, I'm not getting any younger."

"I gave you one, ONE, job."

"Oh for fucks' sake!"

"Did you even follow the instructions?!"

"I followed the damn instructions!"

"What did you do now?"

"Wonderful. Just great."

"Shall I snap my own neck now or later?"

"You. Are completely useless."

"I can't get it to fucking work!"

"I've tried everything and still!"

"You said you had my back, but as SOON as I have it turned, you've fucked off to who knows where!"

"This? This is shit. Utter nonsense."

"You said you could handle it!"

"I'm THIS close to cutting you loose."

"Why do I even keep you around if you only just disappoint me?"

"A corpse would be better use than you at this rate."

"You said this'd be easy!"

"I told you I couldn't do it!"

😡+ add your own!

[lwyr-a]

ʙʀᴜɪsᴇᴅᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ:  barry

Barry finished striking the stage with Nick about 30 minutes after class ended. Most of the class had stuck around to offer moral support — except Natalie, who said she had to go run some errands for Gene. 

Barry dusted his hands off on his jeans and smiled at the job well done. “Cool,” he said, offhand. 

Nick stood up and rubbed across his forehead with the back of his hand. “Yeah, nice work. We’re all gonna head to Residuals, you wanna come?” 

Barry nodded his head and started down off the stage. They’d been talking today about how Barry didn’t really…have any friends outside the class. 

Except the nicely-dressed dude in the suit, who Barry hadn’t been able to come up with a good lie for, and had essentially let the subject drop this morning instead of trying to lie. 

He and Emil weren’t like he and Fuches. Barry didn’t have upwards of a dozen lies tucked away in his head for their relationship… 

So when Barry walked out of the classroom, dust from the stage and its props all down his legs, he hadn’t expected — not in a million years — to see Emil standing there….in civvies. 

there is something to be said about listening in on private conversations,   about reading messages from self-absorbed actors and invading their bubbles for personal gain,   but the truth of the matter is,  it’s necessary .  walls have ears and when those fail emil needs to go a step further,   two steps,   further and further until his goal is reached and the ants remain unaware .  but they’re not fully oblivious,   picking up on the shadows he casts over barry and the bodies hidden in the subsequential darkness .   weird,   a reoccurring word they use to describe this stranger in a suit,   the man who keeps waiting for barry with his expensive car and polished shoes and OH   ——   his favourite hitman doesn’t know how to respond .   the best lie,   however,    is simply the truth  (  or in their case the closest they can get to it .  )

so as emil stands outside the community center with a smile glued to pale features,   he observes these actors and lets them get a good look at him .   soft fabric clings to his slender torso,   the light coloring stands in stark contrast to the man within the sweater .   if only they knew that this is a red flag,   a warning sign that basically just spells out :    DANGER,   a homicidal man dressed to impress .   but to them it’s not a costume to make him look nice,   to conceal what’s truly lurking behind baby blues,   to these people this looks real and as barry finally spots him,   emil just waves  (  like real person,   who is happy to see him .  )

according to his records,   the next few steps should be easy even without a script .   look friendly for the audience,   just follow the push and pull of your scene partner,   on your mark and  GO .   ❛   barry !    ❜   excitement colors his voice as the exclamation is loud enough to pull more than just his   boyfriend’s   attention .   he needs these kids to see the disguise put on specifically for them and their nosy ideas of who emil mendel might be to their friend barry .                                      ❛   are you ready for our coffee date ?    ❜  

[lwyr-a]

A    PRETTY    FACE    DON’T    MAKE    NO    PRETTY    HEART i    learned    that    buddy    from    the    start      ——      he  will  be  the  end  of  you   (   2 of ?   )

[lwyr-a]

the emil vibes in this are impeccable what

[garflover]

062

[lwyr-a]

i finally,  after an entire year,  wrote a super short version of emil’s backstory.

[lwyr-a]

ʙʀᴜɪsᴇᴅᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ: barry

Emil’s eyes skate him up and down like he’s searching for Barry’s concealed carry. (It’s at his back, where it’s hidden within a malleable holster and layers of thick, comparatively stiff clothing. Again, practicality over style.) 

Maybe Emil hadn’t recognized him, because he says his name laced with venom, sharp and fast. Barry’s gaze snaps up to meet Emil’s, who looks…the barest touch amused. He’s playing with him. 

After all this time, he still wants to play with him. 

And Barry was immensely looking forward to a change in pace compared to these last few dreary months. Snow, hit. Snow, hit. Shovel snow, kill a banker in Tucson. Over and over and over. 

Emil starts for the front doors, clipped and professional like he’s stalking a courtroom floor. They’re not parting ways. 

He gets to see Emil again. Barry’s smile spreads a bit wider and he follows, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets to warm his fingers, whiskey forgotten and… Shit, still not paid for. 

“One sec,” he says just loud enough to be heard over the din of the bar. Barry pulls two crumpled bills equating six dollars from his pocket and litters them across the bar beside his drink, realizes this is New York, and pulls out another two equating eight dollars, and then he skirts around people with his large hands held up for cover, for a personal barrier, for politeness, and finds his way back…slightly behind Emil. 

Not beside him. Not possibly until they’re outside. 

“ How-how long are you gonna be…in town for? ” 

after all this time,   when all is said and done,   emil still knows how to read the other one .   it’s easy considering he knows the author,   was there when this empty war ruined shell got superglued together and filled with the morals of another man .   barry is easy to read because emil annotated the book and added his own footnotes and thus,   as he stalks through the bar,   sure steps following one after another,   he knows barry will follow .

and that he does,   because emil was right,   he always is .   there is an unrest sitting in barry’s bones and it matches the one emil carries within his own flesh .   the two of them puzzle together until its hard to tell who is the murderer between the two of them .   but it’s easy,   in the end,   one likes to play GOD,   orders for the world to burn  and barry does as he is told .   

so as he moves outside with the hitman following behind and cold wind lashing at his skin,   a contract formulates in his mind .   it’s written in blood and the words are binding,   a spell in nature but truly nothing than a riddle to keep barry occupied and by his side .  (  he notices the shift,   is aware barry leaves and comes back but that’s normal,   that’s how it should be .   )

❛   a few weeks,   give or take .   ❜   nothing more than crumbs are being dropped as he sees himself save in the knowledge that barry will eat them up right away .    ❛   i have a few clients here .   ❜  

but the words dropped into the night hold no weight and soon fade away as instead,   emil stops and turns around .   embraced by darkness,   he is at home,   the picture finally completed as  sharp  teeth shine with his smile .   behind him his car awaits .   ❛   i don’t like the bar and it’s a bit cold out here .   we should go back to my hotel instead .   ❜  

[needsmorememes]

‘Something's Wrong’ Sentence Starters

Something’s Wrong With My Muse

“Oh, God, you’re bleeding. You’re bleeding a lot.”

“Stop squirming, I’m trying to help.”

“Hang on, I got you.”

“Just lean on me, I’ll help you walk.”

“We should get that looked at.”

“Don’t tilt your head back, you’ll make your nosebleed worse!”

“Just sit up and breathe, ok?”

“Eh, you’ll be fine. I think. Maybe.”

“Whatever you do, don’t go to sleep. Stay awake.”

“Oooooo. That looks painful.”

“Oh, thank God! Don’t scare me like that!”

“How the hell did you do this to yourself?”

“Hey, hey, stay with me, ok?”

“You stopped breathing.”

“Oh look, it’s alive.”

“Take deep breaths, you’ll be fine.”

“Arms shouldn’t move like that…”

“What happened to your leg?!”

“Yep, that’s broken alright. How’d you manage that?”

“Here’s some ice for that.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Yeesh, you look like shit.”

“Wait, you were mugged?!”

“Is that a stab/gunshot wound?”

“Ok, ew. I’m not cleaning that up.”

“Easy, easy! Just lay down, you hit your head.”

“You probably have a concussion, so I wouldn’t be moving around too much if I were you.”

“I thought you were dead!”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how much does it hurt?”

“Can you walk on your own?”

“You’re getting blood on my clothes!”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Something’s Wrong With Your Muse

“Is that three fingers you’re holding up?”

“I’m so sorry for getting blood on your clothes!”

“I’m not sure I can walk on my own.”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, my pain’s at least an 8.”

“You thought I was dead?”

“Do you think I have a concussion?”

“I hit my head; now I don’t feel so good.”

“I’m so sorry. Do you mind cleaning up?”

“I think I’ve been stabbed/shot.”

“I just got mugged!”

“Do I look as bad as I feel?”

“Could I maybe get an ice pack for this?”

“Thank you, by the way.”

“I think my leg is broken.”

“I can’t feel my arm.”

“I’m going to need more than deep breathing to calm me down.”

“I’m not dead yet!”

“Oh, God, I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding a lot.”

“Are you really trying to help?”

“Please help me.”

“Can I lean on you? I don’t think I can walk.”

“I think I need to get this looked at.”

“I can’t get my nose to stop bleeding!”

“I can’t seem to catch my breath.”

“I’ll be fine. I think. Maybe.”

“Please help me stay awake.”

“This hurts just as much as it looks like it does.”

“Sorry - did I scare you?”

“I don’t know how I managed to do this to myself.”

“I don’t know if I can stay awake.”

“I stopped breathing?”

Note: Revamp of an older sentence starter post found here.

[mulaney]

It premieres at Midnight Pacific Standard Time

[nickkroll]

This comedy hunk is hosting SNL tonight! (at Saturday Night Live) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuhIPA7HZrm/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ovesvmohnm0g

[daily-john-mulaney]

day 445

[lwyr-a]

ʙʀᴜɪsᴇᴅᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ: barry

Barry could hear a fly’s wings working. He’s hanging on such a thin thread waiting for Emil to say something back, to notice him, to react. Emil turns a bit, his resolve carved from marble, and looks at him with that piercing gaze that always served to shut him up so quickly. 

A terse, bottom-line smile that doesn’t have anymore warmth in it than the air outside, and he wants…Barry to move. 

It’s not that he can’t recognize Barry, right? They’d worked together for months, Emil had seen him sprawled out on his back making expressions nobody else had seen in years, he had to recognize him… Even if Barry had let his hair grow out a bit. 

Barry fumbles like he always does without a gun in his hands —he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when they’re empty — opens his mouth twice and says nothing, and he’s dismissed a second time. A chasm opens up in his chest and it stays there, festers and quickly grows to consume his throat. 

Maybe he’s choking on it. 

Of course. Emil had moved onto other things. Barry didn’t exist anymore, to him. Whoever this was, it wasn’t anybody that would give Barry the time of day. 

❛ My, uh, ❜ he manages, ❛ my mistake. ❜ 

He’s going to have Emil’s features burned into his retinas for days. He’s not going to be able to think about anything else. Why did he leave the partnership all of a sudden? He didn’t say anything. Fuches wouldn’t tell him anything except that there was now BAD BLOOD mixed into the memories. Barry couldn’t know if it was something he’d done or something Fuches had done, so he’d only been able to blame himself. 

Judging by the cold shoulder, he supposed his aimless suppositions were CORRECT.

Barry ducked his head and nodded, tongue pressed into the space before his bottom row of teeth. 

As instructed, he stepped out of Emil Mendel’s way. 

with baited breath he waits for movement .   after asking,   no,   demanding for barry to move anything could’ve happened .   a tiny corner of his mind screams fuches’ name,   spits on the memories of the old man and suspicion lies heavily in the clutches of his anger .   it’s not hard to entertain the idea that somewhere in barry’s pocket there is a bullet with his name engraved in it .   he is competition,   a danger to their business but that’s part of the game because whenever you think you’re good,   emil mendel  will   be better .   and thus muscles tense and sharp eyes are ready for even a minuscule change but instead,   an apology sounds .

time stops .   OH .   interest pipes .   his heartbeat keeps going,   a steady rhythm that mixes and mingles with the bar’s background noises until the tired mind catches up .   eyes wander up and down barry’s frame until there is no doubt left .   there will be no blood shed tonight .    all of a sudden he feels stupid for missing this detail .   his docile little pet lost to another master ——  the way barry follows his lead,   it’s like the space between them had never existed and it’s beautiful .   maybe,   just maybe things can go back to the way there were oh so long ago ?   of course,   only with the addition of an old man’s corpse .   glee shots through his veins and warms the pit of his stomach,   steadily spreading through his limbs until emil is downright giddy at this new development .   (   but the mask of stone stays in place .   )

❛   barry .   ❜   the name drops from his tongue like a curse but he needs it that way,   needs barry to snap at attention .   there is nothing better than a killer listening to emil’s every word and following commands without a second thought .   in another life,   he would’ve tamed this beast,   would’ve claimed him completely,   mind,   body,    soul   but that is out of the question now .   right ?

the syllables draw out,   they echo but the bar is too loud and soon he takes a step forward,   moving past barry .   over his shoulder he throws verbal crumbs,   giving the man a leash to follow .   if this brave little soldier so wishes to put a collar on himself,   emil won’t stop him .   the idea is almost arousing,   interesting in every regard but for that to happen,   he wants sole ownership .                                     ❛   c’mon .   we’re going for a walk .   ❜