End of the line. @suckmyshotgun - Tumblr Blog

favourite quotes: albert camus

requested by @sonderoff

#✘ always trouble / ooc.#✘ bettin' blind / queue.#✘ warning shots / aesthetic.

I love this part of the new official lol artbook, bc Gp is all like “If I’m not winning I’m gonna blow all this shit up", Mf looking at him like “Just try it, I’ll fucking shoot you”. Meanwhile Graves and Tf are all “Darlin’, I could really use some aces rn, I know u prob have like 8 on ur sleeve, u fucking cheater”

#not my art #✘ always trouble / ooc.#✘ bettin' blind / queue.#✘ warning shots / aesthetic.

fortunesails-deactivated2020010

"At what point are the weapons going to stop talking? I preferred it when swords did not talk back..."

“You’re acting like this is the first time tools have talked. Have I ever introduced you to my associate, Malcolm Graves?”

suckmyshotgun

“Heard you was talkin’ shit.”

fortunesails-deactivated2020010

“Nothing you can’t handle, darlin’.”

suckmyshotgun

“Kiss my ass, sweetheart.”

#✘ dead man walkin' / ic.#fortunesails

fortunesails-deactivated2020010

"At what point are the weapons going to stop talking? I preferred it when swords did not talk back..."

“You’re acting like this is the first time tools have talked. Have I ever introduced you to my associate, Malcolm Graves?”

suckmyshotgun

“Heard you was talkin’ shit.”

#what the fuck sarah #what the owo

lifeinpoetry

If you don’t have blood on your hands by the end of this you weren’t listening.

— Shira Erlichman, from “Ode to Lithium #75: Mind over Matter,” published in BOAAT Journal

#✘ always trouble / ooc.#✘ bettin' blind / queue.#✘ try me / musings.

bilgewater-queen

An inquiry? I’m listening.

Ask box opennn~!

#✘ always trouble / ooc.#✘ bettin' blind / queue.

drystan-pryde

Company

suckmyshotgun

“Well, aren’t you just as precious as always?” he murmurs, the first real hints of a smile tugging at his mouth as he lifts the mug to his lips for the first appreciative sip of the night. It was easy, this, to just fall back into old banter with someone who was only marginally related to all those bad memories of before.

This time he doesn’t bother to stop his eyes from rolling, indulgent and exaggerated, but the lines at the corner deepen with his smile. “You’re mad, Drystan,” he scolds, still willing to play. He isn’t flinching from the closeness, the intimacy; that much had changed.

A soft snort escapes him, and he actually reaches out first, rough fingers curling around Drystan’s to tap softly against the smaller man’s palm. “Woe is me, getting propositioned by a lovely man and a damn good one, too. Though he sounds all out of his mind tonight, thinkin’ there’s better blonds out there.”

It was stupid to think he could just forget. It haunted every breath - but this was as good as it could get. And he’d take it. He was selfish like that.

“Guess I gotta make tonight worth your while since you passed up on better clients, huh?”

#✘ dead man walkin' / ic.#drystan-pryde

drystan-pryde

Company

suckmyshotgun

Graves startles visibly when the mug meets his table, already reaching for the handle out of reflex even as tired blue eyes flicker up almost guiltily - only a few people would put drink in front of him, after all, and he knows he shouldn’t have snatched for it that readily.

“Drystan,” he breathes, shoulders actually relaxing a fraction. Drystan, after all, was not precisely the type to crack a spoon across his knuckles. Probably. “I’ll be. Figured you’d already be busy, lovely.”

Lifting his mug, he offers the younger man a joking half-toast. “You tell Mama I owe her my sanity, and I’ll be gettin’ quite a few more of these, so I guess I owe her my coin, too.” The barest hesitation, and he kicks the other stool next to him out just a bit, a clear invitation should the other choose to take it. Just because he isn’t sure about the other offer on the table doesn’t mean he’s going to pass up a chance to chat with one of the very few people whose company was reassuring. “You can’t tell me you’re still interested in that stuff wit’ me.”

It is a little bit genuinely disbelieving, but it isn’t entirely true; he knows his patronage is still welcome. A quiet snort escapes him, and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes lest Drystan think it’s directed at him (it certainly isn’t).

“Uh, y’know - trying to find my old partner and blow his head off. And not in the way you prefer.”

#✘ dead man walkin' / ic.#drystan-pryde

cressdarne

Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the Barrel and deadliest boy in Ketterdam.

#✘ always trouble / ooc.#✘ bettin' blind / queue.#✘ warning shots / aesthetic.

violentwavesofemotion-deactivat

“I was punished for clinging. I clung. I clutched all those I loved; I clutched at the lovely moments of life; my hands closed upon every full hour. My arms were always tight and craving to embrace: I wanted to embrace and hold the light, the wind, the sun, the night, the whole world. I wanted to caress, to heal, to rock, to lull, to surround, to encompass. And I strained and I held so much that they broke; they broke away from me. Everything eluded me then. I was condemned not to hold.”

Anaïs Nin, from “House of Incest,” published c. 1936

#✘ always trouble / ooc.#✘ bettin' blind / queue.#✘ try me / musings.