#ak7

[citrisz]

My new slavic princess

[radiowings]

russian stars in nhl cards released in 1991

[astrony769]

Apareciste cuando me sentía solo, me hiciste reír de algún modo, tú creíste en mi cuando estaba en el lodo, Siempre me quisiste a pesar de todo.

AK7

[if-you-onlyknew]

After Kidnapping 7 (or AK7)

Jefferson woke blearily, head pounding. The previous night’s events came rushing back: the accidental shooting of the priest-turned-Rumpelstiltskin, setting Killian free in the yard, the hospital, the messy clean up in the basement. Crashing into bed well past midnight. 

The sun had barely come up, but his watch read nine in the morning. Glancing with one eye towards the window, he saw that it was overcast. The sky had a strange gleam to it, almost grey, almost yellow, but not quite. Didn’t matter. He had work to do. 

He popped a couple asprins and headed downstairs for coffee. However, upon arriving downstairs, the scene he beheld reminded him of one of those thriller flicks Grace had made him watch around Halloween the previous year. The walls had blood streaks traced from the door to the basement all the way to the front door in the foyer. The handle was encrusted as well. “Damn it, Gold!” he grumbled. Had Rumpel rubbed his body all over the walls on the way out? It was a crime scene! Well, it had been Jefferson’s fault. He had shot the man after all. 

The inspection of his cleaning supply was a disappointment. The bleach was gone. No ammonia. No peroxide in the medicine cabinet. 

Checking his phone, Emma hadn’t called him back after the voicemail he left sometime around midnight. If she did show up, he didn’t want her finding blood all over the inside of his house since the priest was allegedly shot outside. He’d have to move fast.

The drive was met with golden and orange leaves littering the lone road into town. Autumn had struck Maine weeks before, but it looked like winter was coming. He pulled his scarf up higher on his neck as he winced at the ominous sky. 

Ten minutes later, he’d arrived at the hardware store. Having never been in before, he could only hope they had such products. The bell over the door jingled as he pulled it open, and stepped in out of the crisp November air. Shaking his coat to rid the cold air from the material, he glanced around in attempt at locating the cleaning product aisle. 

with @hacksawsandstitches

mentioned: @hatterxtrick @pickyourpoisonflorist @macavoy-stiltskin @aloneswan

[radiowings]

vladislav tretiak, alexei kasatonov and others of the soviet national team at the 1984 olympics, sarajevo, yugoslavia. photographer: dmitry donskoy

[sowhatifiliveinfukuoka]

Bettie Page

© Arnold Kovacs

[astrony769]

En esta noche todo es posible conmigo, te busco y ya no te consigo claro de luna, el sentir de la noche sombría, que la llama de la pasión llene tu corazón en este hallowen de alegría 🖤🎃👻 .