[pistollips-gone]

* INDEFINITE HIATUS * -- contact me on my personal ( @devourt ) if u wanna reconnect <3

#PISTOLLIPS.         a   private   horror   original   character,   written   by   v   since   july   2nd,   2014.   trigger   themes   ahead,   including   abuse,   kidnapping,   blasphemy,   violence,   gore,   murder,   pyromania,   religious   imagery,   mental   illness,   and   other   dark   themes.   inspired   by   stephen   king,   ari   aster,   A24   films,   MK   ultra,   psychological   horror,   comedy   and   sci-fi.

carrd.   ♡   aesthetic sideblog.   ♡   pinterest.   ♡   interest  tracker.   ♡   ic  twitter.

[pistollips-gone]

ok official hiatus across all accounts until further notice

[pistollips-gone]

❥  indamato.

‘ does  this  shirt  make  me  look  like  a  weeaboo? ’     @pistollips   *

            ❝  if  you  even  have  to  ask  ...  i  think  you  already  know  the  answer,  jess.  ❞

[pistollips-gone]

❥  ghostviso.

❪    ⋅    ◆    ⋆    —    @pistollips·    .        𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃    𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐆    𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐍    ,    𝐈𝐓'𝐒    𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍    𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓    .    their    feet    resting    on    one    of    the    tables    ,    their    journal    held    in    their    hands    ,    WRITING    ,    TAKING    NOTES    .    masked    gaze    only    raised    when    they    heard    a    sound    ,    FOOTSTEPS    .    they    did    not    move    ,    only    turned    their    head    slightly    ,    leaned    it    back    to    glance    at    the    entrance    .    NO    TRIAL    HERE    ,    NOT    RIGHT    NOW    &    neither    was    this    a    survivor    .    shroud    around    them    like    snakes    ,    floating    around    their    form    while    they    remained    still    .    ❝    looking    for    something    ?    ❞

            𝖎𝖓  life,  you  always  found  western  movies  comforting.  you  don’t  remember  being  an  infant  napping  on  your  birth  father’s  chest  with  cowboy  movies  running  in  the  background,  but  your  subconscious  does.  you  can  never  identify  just  where  the  nostalgic  feeling  comes  from  associated  with  horses  and  dusty  towns,  but  you  did  certainly  own  a  couple  pairs  of  pink  cowboy  boots,  and  a  few  copies  of  clint  eastwood  movies  on  blu-ray.  it’s  why  you  like  coming  to  this  place  in  particular.  but  today,  you’re  not  alone.

            𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌  into  the  saloon,  you  spot  the  masked  ...  person ?  ...  lounging  inside.  ❝  nah.  i  don’t  guess.  ❞  your  fingers  run  over  the  piano  that  plays  itself,  and  you  dare  to  press  a  note,  ruin  the  melody.  in  response,  after  a  short  moment  of  silence  that  you  take  as  annoyance,  the  song  starts  over.  ❝  whatcha  doin’ ?  --  writin’  a  novel ?  can  i  be  in  it ?  ❞ 

[pistollips-gone]

❥  childactress.

‘     well,   duh.    ’          the  bubblegum  brightness  of  atty’s  voice  sweeps  away  most  misgivings    :    she’s  convincing  in  a  way  mara  never  anticipates,   all  too  -  sweet  sugar  and  warm  breath.     tongue  caught  between  her  teeth,   mara  smiles.         ‘    you’ve  given  this  a  lot  of  thought.     ’         a  tilt  of  her  head  side  to  side  later,   and  she  hums.          ‘     i  don’t  know,   atty.     i  don’t  even  know  where  we’re  going.     jack  keeps  talking  about  this  party  that  some  guy  died  at  last  year,   supposed  to  be  crazy  fun,   but  i  don’t  know  if  he’s  gonna  get  us  in  or  not.     exclusive  or  whatever.     ’

            𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊  you  given  it  a  lot  of  thought?  well.  more  than  you  thought  you  had,  now  that  she  points  it  out.  ❝  you’re  mara  banks.  ‘course  he  can  get  us  in.  or,  you  in.  me,  maybe  if  they’re  nice.  or  if  jack  sucks  a  couple  dicks.  ❞  as  he  should.  ❝  but  i  bet  if  our  costumes  are  good  enough  they’ll  let  us  in.  ❞  back  to  business.  ❝  should  we  do  sexy  scary  or  sexy  campy?  ❞ 

[pistollips-gone]

❥  childactress.

‘     oh,   atty.     ’          her  eyes  roll,   theatric  and  shiny.          ‘     are  you  joking?     those  are  so  stupid.     ’          and  then,   because  the  idea  of  matching  with  anybody  and  then  matching  with  atty  and  then  clinging  to  atty  for  an  entire  night  is  too  tempting  to  pass  up     (     she’s  everything  like  the  rest  and  nothing  like  the  rest,   and  that’s  the  fun  of  it.     )     :          ‘     what  are  you  thinking?     something  hot?     ’

           𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊  ready  to  abandon  the  idea  altogether,  but ...  stupid  or  not,  you’ve  caught  her  interest.  ❝  well,  if  it’s  us,  it’ll  be  hot  regardless..  ❞  you’re  not  ready  to  admit  you’ve  brought  up  the  concept  without  an  actual  idea.  didn’t  think  you’d  get  this  far.  ❝  what  if  we  did ... uh  ...  --  oh  !  harley  quinn  and  poison  ivy.  orr ...  princess  bubblegum  and  marceline  the  vampire  queen ?  ❞  

[pistollips-gone]

❥  spiralshift.

   dark eyes follow the girl. in the interest of maintaining his Passionate Rookie Facade, he would do well to ask her to step away from the tape again. he’s known to be such a good boy though. yes ma’am, no ma’am, all that, so he’s sure he’ll be forgiven if captain garza sees him fraternizing with some random girl. god knows metro has bigger fish to fry, though whatever shit they’ve thrown in the fryer is bound to bubble up and splatter back in their faces.

   “looks like a serial killer we’re on the tail of is back at it again.” the lining of his pockets is warm as he reaches in to pull out a cigarette, though his eyes are still on her. “i’m sure you’ve heard of the jigsaw killer before, right? everyone has.” just not everyone’s quite as obsessed as he is.

            𝖒𝖆𝖞𝖇𝖊  this  guy  isn’t  who  you  thought  he  was.  not  only  does  he  drop  the  authoritative  tone,  he’s  giving  you  intel.  or  is  he  just  being  a  little  shit  right  back ?  no  fuckin’  way  he’d  just  offer  up  that  info  like  that.  jigsaw ?  your  face  betrays  you,  shows  just  how  enthralling  the  mere  mention  of  that  name  is.  ❝  bullshit,  ❞  you  exhale,  and  now  you’re  fully  leaning  over  the  tape,  except  this  time  it’s  done  unconsciously.  

            ❝  𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖍,  i’ve  heard  of  the  jigsaw  killer.  somethin’  i’ve  never  heard  of,  though,  is  a  pig  just  outright  tellin’  a  civilian  that  he’s  back.  --  you  better  not  be  fucking  with  me.  ❞

[pistollips-gone]

@stabyouth​  said   ❛  and  where  do  you  think  you’re  going?  ❜

            𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖇𝖚𝖒𝖕𝖘  rise  to  the  surface,  a  shy  smile  following  the  pink  tint  upon  your  cheeks  ...  dark  ideas  lie  underneath  that  smile,  but  surprisingly  a  little  (  only  a  little.  )  less  bloody  than  normal.  certainly  more  lust  than  bloodlust.  ❝  i  was  hopin’  you  could  help  me  out  with  that.  ❞  don’t  clam  up,  now  !!  ❝  got  any  ideas  ?  ❞  

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  smut  /  nsfw  implied  sentence  starters  with  not  so  vulgar  language.  )

❛ i’ve been thinking about you all day. ❜

❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜

❛ how badly do you want me? ❜

❛ i can’t get enough of you. ❜

❛ i’ve never done something like this before. ❜

❛ i like being close to you. you’re warm. ❜

❛ you look good like this. ❜

❛ you look like you were jealous. ❜

❛ i’m not jealous. ❜

❛ shh. there’s people in the other room. ❜

❛ say you want me, and i’m yours. ❜ 

❛ i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing. ❜

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜

❛ would you like to go somewhere a little more private? ❜

❛ i’ll take care of you. ❜

❛ there’s so many things i wanna do to you. ❜

❛ take off your clothes. ❜

❛ i’m going to ruin you. ❜

❛ show me how much you missed me. ❜

❛ is this okay? ❜

❛ you know you love me. ❜

❛ i want you to feel good. ❜

❛ make me. ❜

❛ i want this. ❜

❛ come back to bed. ❜

❛ you’re such a tease. ❜

❛ want me to model these for you? ❜

❛ we have to make this quick. ❜

❛ what are you looking at? ❜

❛ it’s hot when you talk back. ❜

❛ you don’t have to be gentle. i won’t break. ❜

❛ don’t you know what you’re doing to me? ❜

❛ i really want to kiss you right now. ❜

❛ this is a one time thing. ❜

❛ you know where to find me. ❜

❛ did i say you could stop? ❜

❛ you’re soaked. let me grab you a towel. ❜

❛ i want to see you. ❜

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜

❛ no ones here. we can be as loud as we want. ❜

❛ you look good with my hands around your throat. ❜

❛ i’ll be good, i promise. ❜

❛ you’re really good at that. ❜

❛ shut up and kiss me already. ❜

❛ you better watch your fucking mouth. ❜

❛ don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. ❜

❛ tell me what you want. ❜

❛ here’s my hotel room number. ❜

❛ you can be rough. i can take it. ❜

❛ and where do you think you’re going? ❜

❛ if you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up. ❜

❛ i shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you. ❜

❛ what if i hurt you? ❜

❛ you could never hurt me. ❜

[pistollips-gone]

❥    haddonfled.

THEY   NAME   HIM   WHAT   PEOPLE   SO   OFTEN   NAME   THE   THINGS   THEY   FEAR:      INHUMAN.      but   is   this   ––   simple   act   of   being   /   rudimentary   practice   of   sharing   space   ––   not   the   epitome   of   humanity?      is   this   not   a   house,   a   home,   and   a   hearth,   despite   the   peeling   wallpaper   and   the   cracked   floors?      she   is   a   lantern   and   he   the   shadow   lurking   at   its   boundaries,   watching   himself   flicker   in   and   out   of   existence.      a   reflection   /   a   perversion   /   a   wax   figure   with   a   wound   for   a   face,   dependent   on   her   light   to   define   his   dark.      but   then   the   light   draws   too   near,   and   it’s   the   closest   thing   that   a   moth   will   ever   come   to   surviving   an   encounter   with   a   candle.      a   finger   on   his   nose   /   a   finger   on   a   trigger   long   ago   rigged   to   self-detonate.

a   cold   hand   catches   around   her   wrist   ––   shackle   made   of   flesh   and   blood,   holding   her   the   way   concrete   cells   hold   prisoners.      the   pulse   is   the   door   to   the   heart,   knocking   steadily   from   the   inside   out   and   inviting   him   in.      every   vein   is   a   threshold   that   whispers   (   HELLO,   WOLF   ––      WHAT   PALE   SKIN   YOU   HAVE.      WHAT   SHARP   TEETH   YOU   HAVE.      WHAT   EMPTY   EYES   YOU   HAVE.      will   you   come   for   dinner?   )      a   tilt   of   the   head,   eyes   held   steadily   on   her   fingers.      he   squeezes   experimentally,   reminding   her   of   the   impermanence   of   flesh.      how   hard   would   he   need   to   press   for   the   bones   to   snap?

he   studies   her   as   if   observing   the   human   body   for   the   first   time,   as   taken   with   her   hand   as   he   is   by   the   image   of   it   in   his   own.      [   who   are   you   and   who   am   i   and   who   are   we   ––   ]      michael   shakes   his   head,   face   drawn   in   an   expression   that,   if   he   saw   it   mirrored,   he   could   not   name.      there   is   a   question   there,   yes,   and   a   grim   answer.      what   else?      he   pushes   her   away,   slowly   /   guiding   her   back   along   the   marrow-twine   of   her   own   body.      [   YOU’VE   LOST   YOUR   WAY.   ]      he   turns   her   hand   on   herself   the   same   way   that   the   ribcage   curls   around   the   heart,   pressing   the   white   of   her   fingers   against   the   wick   of   her   nose.      THE   SUN   WAS   NOT   MEANT   TO   TOUCH   THE   MOON;   in   the   blood   red   shadow   of   their   eclipse,   the   entity   is   nothing   more   than   a   cacophony   of   jealous   stars.

            𝖎𝖓  such  a  short  moment,  barely  a  second,  you  cycle  through  a  rollercoaster.  he’s  going  to  grab  you.  no ...  wait  ...  he’s  not.  yes  he  is.  and  then  he  does,  and  the  grin  on  your  lips  falters,  but  not  to  be  replaced  with  a  frown,  or  a  sign  of  fear.  a  ghost  of  the  smile  lingers,  interest  overtakes  your  features,  excitement  ignites  behind  your  already  shining  eyes.  the  grip  is  tight,  and  you  know  even  if  you  wanted  to  fight  it,  you  couldn’t.  it’s  a  good  thing  you  don’t.  it’s  a  good  thing  you’re  ready  to  embrace  whatever  consequences  are  wrought.  it’s  almost  like  you  want  him  to  hurt  you.  you  want  to  experience  what  others  long  before  you  have  had  the  pleasure.  what  better  way  is  there  to  appreciate  one’s  power,  if  you’re  not  at  the  business  end  of  the  barrel?  

            𝖎𝖙'𝖘  not  that  you’re  not  at  all  scared,  though.  you’re  afraid  in  the  same  way  you  imagine  one  would  fear  their  god.  in  awe,  in  appreciation,  perhaps  even  a  form  a  worship,  but  with  full  knowledge  that  you  could  be  crushed  in  the  palm  of  their  hand.  and  you’d  be  honored.  

            𝖍𝖊  tilts  his  head,  and  another  wave  of  exhilaration  courses  through  you.  what  will  he  do?  clearly,  he’s  even  debating  that  with  himself.  you  don’t  think  anyone’s  looked  at  your  skin  this  closely,  or  for  this  long.  another  layer  of  appreciation  grows  over  the  surface  of  this  moment.  you  almost  think  he’ll  never  let  go,  and  you’ve  got  no  issue  with  that,  but  then  he  taps  your  button  nose  with  your  own  finger,  and  your  grin  returns,  dimples  on  full  display.  

            𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘  mercy  should  not  mean  you’ve  not  earned  your  lesson.  the  boundary  was  blatant,  wordless  as  it  was.  and  yet  ...  the  urge  to  reach  out  again  is  so  strong.  you  don’t  even  realize  you’re  shaking  until  you  lift  your  arm  again,  and  the  hand  shaped  pink  around  your  wrist  catches  your  eye.  you  look  at  it  closer,  then  look  at  him.  lower  your  hand  where  it  belongs.  if  you’re  good,  maybe  he’ll  even  speak  to  you  someday.  don’t  break  his  trust.  

            ❝  𝖎𝖋  i  made  you  a  friendship  bracelet,  you’d  wear  it,  right ?  ❞  

[pistollips-gone]

it’s not munday but it is in my heart because i look cute today

[toadmemes]

* DARYL DIXON QUOTES FROM THE WALKING DEAD PROMPTS ,

i might be the one walking away, but you're the one who's leaving.

hey, what'd you do before all this?

there's still a whole lot of people that still got to die.

you wanna run? run.

i look around and i think about all the people that are gone.

man, i'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again.

nobody's safe anymore.

we ain't even having this conversation.

you keep asking us to have faith in all these other people.

my day just gets better and better, don't it?

sometimes that’s all you can do.

you gotta hear me, you’re chasing something that ain’t meant to be.

don't you ever come back here again.

we fight for our future, we don't fight for revenge.

i get why you did it.

i know where i'm supposed to be.

nothing can take the place of someone you love being gone.

these people, you saved them all.

hey! choose your words more carefully.

it's a waste of time, all this hoping and praying.

get your ugly ass out here!

all of us together, we'll be their worst damn nightmare.

toughest asshole i ever met.

it ain’t just about getting by here. it’s about getting it all.

i ain't ever gonna kneel.

you got something you want to tell me?

the world is just shit sometimes, and you live with it.

the line’s pretty clear.

you were thinking about someone else.

truth is, you don’t have enough faith in us.

i will beat your ass into the ground, you hear me?

when the shit hits, you're standing there with a shovel.

people in hell want slurpees.

that was the hard part, they were just gone.

it ain't right. it ain't fair.

that doesn’t mean that everything that follows is gonna break your heart.

choke hold's illegal...

some days, i don't know what the hell to think.

i won't stop you this time.

if i ever see your face around here again, i'll kill you.

the longer they’re out there, the more they become what they really are.

i’d die for you, you know that.

some people just got so much evil in their hearts, and they hide it, like they’re wearing a mask or something.

it just made it seem like it wasn't real.

little ass kicker.

if it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't.

shoot me again? you best pray i'm dead.

there ain't no us anymore.

you're a tough son of a bitch.

people said it was better that way.

[pistollips-gone]

❥  riverspat.·

    ❝     we’re NOT running that fucking pathetic cheer.     ❞     hands plant on either hip as the bulk of her team shrivels under her glare, twittering to themselves as her ire shifts to a single girl.the squeal and shriek of rubber soles on waxed floors racket off the bare walls of the gym, chorused by a storm of chatter and barked routines. a cheap relic of the ‘70s, it wasn’t all that off from pembrooke’s own before the blossom remodel.    ❝     atty — right ?      ❞     the captain’s gaze snaps to another girl at the farside of the gym, a captain from a southern school.     ❝     jenny thinks there’s some kind of innovation to be found in a cheer about the grace of losing. what do YOU think ?      ❞

            𝖘𝖍𝖊  already  had  your  eyes  on  her  when  she  absolutely  shouldn’t  have.  you  should  be  watching  your  own  girls,  but  ...  well,  you  gotta  give  it  to  her.  cheryl  blossom  is  a  good  captain.  much  like  yourself,  she’s  good  at  entertaining  and  holding  attention.  you  catch  glimpse  at  the  cheer  itself,  and  ...  it  wasn’t  bad  ;  by  that,  you  mean,  it’s  not  the  worst  you’ve  seen.  ❝  as  an  outsider,  absolutely  not.  it’s  pathetic.  if  your  team’s  losing,  that’s  not  something  you  should  just  accept  immediately.  keep  cheering,  but  don’t  have  a  cheer  prepared  for  losing.  at  that  point,  they’re  just  gonna  give  up.  ❞  you  pause,  as  if  to  consider  a  few  things,  then  add,  ❝  but  as  your  rival,  i’d  say,  yeah,  that’s  great.  run  it.  ❞  you  wink.

[pistollips-gone]

❥  crlosoliveira·.

     sweat rolling down his back and the soles of his feet aching from pounding against pavement, carlos’ grin is wide and wild : appropriate, given everything they’ve been through. his tone is sardonic, carlos replies, “ this is just foreplay, sweetheart. ”

            𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉  you  be  scared?  maybe,  but  you’re  not.  in  fact,  his  grin  only  makes  you  wanna  grin  back...  with  an  eyeroll.  ❝  that  don’t  even  begin  to  answer  my  question  ...  honey.  ❞  

[pistollips-gone]

❥  greghirs.

makes  him  jealous  that  he  does  know  his      …          ‘  yeah      …      the  family  drama  stuff,    y’know,    gets  a  little  EXHAUSTING.      sometimes  i  wish  i’d  stayed  in  canada  instead,    to  be  honest.  ’

           ❝  𝖞𝖔𝖚  can  always  go  back..  ❞  it’s  none  of  your  business,  but  you’re  not  new  to  nosing  in  wherever  you  please.  ❝  you  don’t  owe  no  one  nothin’.  ❞  

[pistollips-gone]

❥  spiralshift.

   “–would be, it’s a crime scene.” despite his stone-faced demeanor, there’s the smallest tinge of amusement to his voice as he shoves his hands into the warm lining of his jacket pockets. “why? you nervous? i wouldn’t stand too close to the tape.”

            ❝  𝖓𝖔.  ‘m  not  nervous.  just  wonderin’  what  happened...  it’s  like  lookin’  at  an  anthill.  ❞  or  a  wasps  nest.  your  eyes  drift  behind  him  again,  trying  to  latch  onto  anything  that’s  not  wearing  a  uniform.  you  take  a  step  closer  to  the  tape,  then,  meeting  his  eyes.  being  a  little  shit  for  the  sake  of  being  a  little  shit.

[pistollips-gone]

@stabyouth  said,  ❝  world  domination?  nay-  something  FAR  more  tacky.  ❞ 

            𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗  eyes  sparkle  with  excitement  and  curiosity,  dimples  on  full  display.  ❝  ...  realm  domination,  then?  ❞  or  whatever  you’d  call  this  place  of  darkness  and  suffering.  you  speak  in  hushed  voices  over  the  fire,  though  volume  probably  doesn’t  matter  anyway.  if  the  entity  can  hear  you,  surely  it  can  hear  you  whether  you  lower  your  voice  or  not.  --  likewise,  surely  it  must  know  this  is  all  fun  and  games  talk,  right?  ...  right.  totally  right.  just  two  bloodthirsty  sacks,  having  fun  outside  of  violence..  nothing  to  see  here  !!