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@pulsates-blog1
due to my more recent studies, i’ll have to grab a quick week-long hiatus. catch yous on the flip side!
dollbruise:
*me, flirting* what are you gonna do, beat me up ?
bcdelia:
gentle arrogance ; a practiced twist of lips in amusement && the woman watches him with certainty before she speaks . a spoken WARNING that does so little to inspire , a flex of her fingers && she’s leaning f o r w a r d s . ❝ or what ?? ❞ it is reckless && she feels vague concern churn within her stomach ; but for a single moment she does not care , for what does she have to fear now ?? a woman built upon TARNISHED shores , toppled from her kingdom with blood on her hands && face , no she does not FEAR much these days . ❝ you do not hold COMMAND over me , do not think yourself possible . ❞
he cracks a smile, feather-there, eyes on what he’s doing. the forestock is pulled back firmly, ejecting an empty shell from its chamber. he breaks open the firearm, reloading the chamber, keeping totally at ease despite the climbing unpredictability and erraticism of the situation. her words encourage the part of lips, the break of a sported exhale. cute. the barrel snaps shut with a powerful, almost bloodthirsty, click.
‘ or i unload this remington the way it was meant to be unloaded. now i don’t know about you, but a simple warning doesn’t quite resonate as a command t’me. but hey, then again, what do i know? people don’t find it easy tellin’ me what to do. ’ pretty sure it’s a different case for her. and despite such polite, threatening statements, my voice lacks malice. should be a clear enough indicator that she’s the obstacle, not the target.
sunshcned:
❝ both ! ——— you can’t chicken out on me by the way since i told you all my embarrassing stuff ! ❞ &&. though she doesn’t know his name , a friend to all ! she prided herself on that .
he thinks back to that stamp collection he once started. doesn’t really count, one of the dogs swallowed about a third. they never did find out which one did it. the coins ended up having holes drilled into them for his sisters and their weird ... crafts. damn, he’s only just beginning to realize how unimaginative he can be.
‘ uh, jackets ... and love. ’ a man has many weaknesses. some just sound stupider than others. chicken soup and bobby darin. if you can make a soup as mean as my mother or charm like darin, i’m yours.
spliiitt:
inaudible mumbling under his breath. ‘I should be home, I could be sleeping…..’That was a laugh in it’s own right. Did he ever TRULY sleep anymore? Even so, a disturbance at the local bar wasn’t his ideal Friday night activity. He’d never seen the man before, bold enough to raise his voice and demand the chief of police to leave. ‘ You wanna fuckin’ run that by me again? ’
it’s murkwell and someone wants him dead. someone else — doesn’t. he doesn’t have time for this. they don’t have time for this. it’s on. it’s one linear and violent ministration. stand up. walk over. push him. there’s no chance for eye contact. no chance to make a connection. and this? this he can’t prevent. strong hand, effortless in experience, shoving the officer back, not even watching him stumble from his stool, whipping him around. there isn’t one moment, one second where they stop, palm against back continuously guiding him with intent through the back door. the back alley is dank, a steam rising from the vent.
‘ you deaf or what? listen you — ’ and then it goes off. glass bursting into the air, everything’s white. an explosion hitting the back of my jacket. fuck, is this worth the damage to my jacket? my ears are ringing, no doubt his too. covering them doesn’t do much, i don’t know why i do it. reflex, right? i’m human. sometimes i find i’m having to remind myself of that. but i know it’s not big enough to tear through the bodies of the drunks inside. the bartender, though ... poor bastard. we’re all gonna be feelin’ this in the morning. some more than others. luckily, we’re the former, but then, luck's got nothin’ to do with it, so we keep pushing forward.
earl’s shoulders are hunched, protecting his neck instinctively. he looks back, hears screaming through the decimation. typical. after all these years, he plays his cards by that tune. a span of forty seconds has passed between him making a move and being interrupted, a further five to check any damage, scope the scene going up in flames. the kind of person this guy is, denvers, his enforcer can predict his next move before he even has enough time to get over the blur of events. one minute. a second more and he’s going to be pushing past, wanting in. nothing more can be risked, it was a close enough call as it was.
come on. i look back and our eyes finally meet. i can catch him out before he realizes what that thought processing in his head is.
the expression on nashburn’s face has barely shifted passed hard-pressed. hand clamps down on bicep, ushers him gracelessly through the bombsite of garbage and glass, towards the waiting vehicle. an inconspicuous suv: he’s done his research, always does. and it’s always something that crop up with him, transportation, no-one really knows how he gets them so quickly. face turns to the left, he squints through the blaze of smoke and nightly darkness, not needing to look as he opens up the passenger’s side and all but forces patrick in. the engine’s been running (wasn’t planning on hanging around for long) and as soon as he’s in, they’re out of there.
doing memes after a movie and breakfast so send me more ‘rough touch’ if you want one!
As long as a man breathes he should not lose hope.
Talmud Yerushalmi, Berakot 9:1
hcneyheart:
@pulsates.sc.
she almost doesn’t recognise him, this most irregular of regulars, but when it clicks in her head, peggy looks as thrilled as always. she’s never liked anyone by halves, peggy, and never truly disliked anybody either– meaning that this is a reaction that a lot of people get from her. but that doesn’t make it any less genuine. she is so very happy to see him again.
getting up from her seat, tucked away in the corner of this nice little café she likes to frequent after work, she greets him in that very usual way of hers. ( her heart is so big, it’s a wonder it can fit inside somebody so small. but, goodness, does it ever show itself here. )
‘ oh! i was starting to think i wasn’t going to see you again! ’
a distant purpose resides to the smooth way he strides in through the carved wood and glass of the door, the delicate call of a bell sounding overhead. she may be here, she may not. what earl does know, is that this, now, is her place of choice. and originally, he’s stopping by for coffee while he’s back in town, but with a smile like hers, one that really lights up the place, it becomes more of a chore to discern whether that could be the driving factor in choosing this café, of all places. he’s not about to make a mystery of it, though, much unlike everything else that surrounds their strange sort of friendship.
‘ so you’ve been thinkin’ about me, huh ... glad to prove you wrong. ’ i fall short of leaving distance between us as i approach and hell, i haven’t smiled like this in a long time. it might be a dead giveaway. i think about her more than i should for a friend away from home. peggy. what a dame. you don’t find ‘em much like her anymore. there’s so much charm to the way she opens up to you, and in turn, has you opening up to her. if i knew any better, i’d say i’d go stupid over her. i’m delighted i don’t.
the stench of fear, the stain of blood. it’s all been washed off a good hour prior to this. if she knew, he’s certain she wouldn’t see him the same. he’s not even sure the woman could hurt a fly. it’s less shame (in fact, there is none) and more accommodation, politeness, that’ll prevent her from ever really knowing too much about him. he does muse, however: with such a soft heart, comes the strong sense of loyalty, of fairness. who knows? perhaps he’s been underestimating her. whatever it is, they’ll always been drawn to each other’s company for all sorts of strange and humdrum reasons. wandering, passionate souls full of amour tend to.
a contented man relaxes, back finding refuge in polish and cushion. there’s some hazed purse to his lips as he watches her, head tilted, hand warming against ceramic. it’s beginning to get colder and colder, the leaves rightfully littering the sidewalk have a satisfying crunch and to breath air in through the nose is refreshing. momentarily, they can hear ... nothing, it’s so peaceful despite the oncoming rush hour. earl inhales, exhales steadily, the aromatic slow roast settling the inside of his body. sometimes things can be such a blur, the premise upon their first words, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, either. yes, it has been a while.
‘ i’ll be honest here. i’m a little sweet on you. ’ reason enough to show up, there’s a tease of fondness in prodding her ego a bit. we slip into our seats, the waitress comes over to pour my coffee, i get a smile from her, too. and everything is calm, we’re sedated by the past normalcy, the paused intimacy and we catch up to where we’ve left off. it’s such a stark contrast to a morning filled with rain and screaming. and i find it so easy to forget about it. some people? norman. they’re so affected by trauma, i feel sorry for 'em.
Send ‘rough touch’
and the generated outcome will be used for a small drabble scenario or starter { tw violence, possible noncon/dubcon implications, nsfw }
Your muse throws a punch at mine.
My muse throws a punch at yours.
Your muse suddenly grips my muse’s hair.
My muse suddenly grips your muse’s hair.
Your muse roughly grabs my muse’s arm.
My muse roughly grabs your muse’s arm.
Your muse grips my muse’s hips.
My muse grips your muse’s hips.
Your muse wraps their hands tightly around my muse’s neck.
My muse wraps their hands tightly around your muse’s neck.
Your muse slams mine against a wall hard.
My muse slams yours against a wall hard.
Your muse pushes my muse to their knees.
My muses pushes your to their knees.
Your muse bites mine.
My muse bites yours.
Your muse clutches their hand tightly around my muse’s mouth to silence them.
My muse clutches their hand tightly around your muse’s mouth to silence them.
Your muse grabs my muse’s wrists.
My muse grabs their muse’s wrists.
Your muse attempts to shove away mine.
My muse attempts to push off yours.
Your muse roughly kisses mine.
My muse roughly kisses yours.
Your muse pins mine onto the ground.
My muse pins yours to the ground.
Your muse delivers beatings to mine.
My muse delivers beatings to yours.
Your muse breaks my muse’s arm.
My muse breaks your muse’s arm.
Mun chooses.
