#ofsalvos

[wedtocrime]

❛  𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐞.  ❜  the smirk that appeared on the other woman’s face brought nothing but a moment of wonder. she’s definitely something. leah as one of the best and worst detectives knows how to spot a criminal when she sees one. she’s not bothered, though.  ❛  you have this bluetooth shit that allows you to play music from your phone ? i’ve made a pretty solid playlist for the girls’ night out.  ❜  she pushed the metal door with a sudden delicacy and held them opened for the other woman.

❛  have i already introduced myself ? i mean —you probably know me. i’m the vip around crime scenes.  ❜  she’s trying to unlock her iphone with her thumb but her frozen hands barely work.  ❛  fuck you steve jobs.  ❜  of course, no one knows her identity from outside the police precinct. she’s the homicide detective. being recognizable is the last thing she would’ve dreamed of.  ❛  can i play a song now ? i hate driving in silence.  ❜

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭.  /  @ofsalvos

[antialibi]

❝ It’s not that I don’t “like” it. I’m physically repulsed. ❞

HANDS THROWN IN EXASPERATION,               blood flung in every direction.       “   well,   where was i   supposed   to keep it?   i don’t have pockets,   you wouldn’t let me take my knapsack,   and i had to keep my hands free in case we got caught in another shoot - out,   ”       she spewed,    counting off the excuses on her   blood - slicked   fingers.     then,   she curled those digits inward until fingernails pressed half - moons into her palm     -     save for her index finger which she pointed at mia.     “   i was thinking ahead!     being responsible and shit.   ”

with the back of her hand,    she wiped blood off her mouth ;     she sighed and returned to the task at hand,    the hem of her shirt lifted and held between her teeth.     “   hold my hair back,   please,   ”      she said,    her voice muffled.     charlotte dug her fingers back into the wound at the base of her abdomen,   just above her left hip bone.

the stitches had come apart too easily and charlotte made a mental note to check out a book on   sewing   the next time she visited a library.     the slit she had made was about four inches wide and although shallow,    was large enough to fit the small plastic bag containing the  eyeball   they needed to get into the vault.     but she had fallen earlier and the eyeball had…     well,   it had popped  .     slowly,   she drew out of the bag and held it up to mia with a frown on her face.     “   is the retina still intact?   ”

it occurred to charlotte then that she hadn’t brought anything to   close up   the wound.     but seeing as she was already in trouble,   she kept her mouth shut and her hand pressed against her hip.     the video she’d watched online hadn’t mentioned how deal with the aftermath of the skin - pouch.       “   if it’s not…    then,   alright     -     my bad.     how big of a deal is it if we   don’t   get the ashes of this dude’s wife to use as leverage,   anyways?   ”          /           PROMPT,    accepting     -     @ofsalvos​  .

[samenkomen]

john    moves    forth.            a    heavy    hand    raised    to    rest    against    her    shoulder    as    he    gives    her    a    knowing    look.

@ofsalvos   !                        /  /                         ASKED    FOR    JOHN    WICK

[spitelife]

@ ofsalvos

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 🌻 + 𝐚 𝐮𝐫𝐥 & 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 .➥  acceptingfor @ofsalvos​ . ( also from @vicebuilt )

mia  is  one  of  the  most  intriguing  ocs  I  have  managed  to  come  across  in  my  time  online  .  I  absolutely  love  reading  the  headcanons  ,  meta  ,  marvel  at  the  edits   &   all  the  little  things  that  jessie  puts  into  her  muse  .  jessie  herself  is  such  a  lovely  person  to  have  on  my  dash  . . .  to  experience  her  strength  ,  her  ideas   &   just  her  overall  positive  aura  is  such  a  breath  of  fresh  air  on  a  site  that  can  be  over  all  toxic  .  it  will  forever  be  a  blessing  to  be  a  mutual  of  hers  ,  to  write  with  her  .

[irritablefacade]

“I need to stretch my legs and kill some things.” /hi ily

BRIAN EPKEEN HAS THE PATIENCE OF A CHILD ,  WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE ,       yet it is he who’s sat silent for the past twenty minutes,  gnawing the same sliver of biltong,  binoculars perched on the bridge of his nose.  The birdies they’re after are rare,  just swift shadows on the water’s edge at East Pier.  Below them run the waterfront tunnels;  an abandoned maze of jail cells which once held the government’s chosen criminals until they were forgotten about and decayed.  Every now and then a shadowy figured slips from the one latched entrance on the pier’s north face,  and drops down into the breakwater.  Anything on a dingy without a spotlight is practically invisible in the dark.  This mind-numbing reconnaissance is Ali’s idea of punishment,  he assumes.  The Zulu King is no doubt tucking into his mother’s chicken dumplings as they sit in the dark.  Nice thought.  Brian’s stomach whines.

“  You didn’t have to come.  ”      A murder or two would save him some time,  though.  He declines the offer.      “  Steelies is just up the Wharf.  ”      He spits a shred of biltong out his window,      “  I’d love a chilli cheese if you’re bored.  Grilled onions on-side.  ”

                         MEME .     //    @OFSALVOS

[gutspilt]

❛   she   wrote   me   a   letter,   you   wanna   read   it?   ❜     it’s   an   invasive   question,   procured   by   a   sheet   flung   unceremoniously   against   countertop.   sockets   bear   fatigue,   all   ounce   of   syrupy   goodness   implored   by   previous   encounters   suffocated   in   his   frustrations.   regality   crumbled   beneath   him,   the   stitches   of   mindset   unravelled   &   spencer   was   a   glassy   lens   to   the   destruction   of   melancholia,   depicted   in   all   it’s   debilitating   glory.   the   depth   of   irises   declare   fate   to   ghost,   docile   body   obliged.    ❛   it   says   ---   i   still   know   my   way.   how   little   she   knew   me.   i   don’t   know   where   the   hell   i’m   going,   never   have. ❜

@ofsalvos.

[heartshownarchived]

🌻  +  my url 💕

positivity  for  @ofsalvos.

          𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐒.     I  mean  there  is  literally  no  hiding  how  amazing  and  wonderful  I  think  that  you  are  because  I  literally  gush  about  you  every  chance  that  I  get.     You  have  created  such  a  unique  and  strong  character  that  fits  so  beautifully  into  other  verses.     Seriously  it’s  insane  how  seamlessly  she  works  into  other  storylines  and  I  am  100%  here  for  it.     As  a  writer,   I  think  you  are  absolutely  amazing  and  I’m  not  just  saying  that.     When  I’m  on  the  dash  ( be  it  my  laptop  or  my  cell  phone )  and  I  see  a  reply  or  something  that  you’ve  posted,   I  stop  and  I  read  it  and  each  time  I’m  blown  away.     As  a  person,   you  are  literally  the  sweetest  ever  and  I’m  so  glad  to  have  you  around.

[gutspilt]

“ you are a person, and i see you. ” //hi i've come to give you some angst?

TEAR  HIM  APART,    he’s   flesh   &   bone,   too    ----    like   you    -----    the   guise   of   which   echoed   a   man   unbroken:    a   mendacious   masquerade   in   which   words   assemble   a   frequent   utterance   of   ‘i’m   fine’.   he   couldn’t   control   the   lies.   ever   the   dubious   with   inner   turmoil,   spencer   stitched   a   smile   &   ignored   his   own   pleas   to   instead   feed   buoyancy   to   tortured   souls,   instilling   false   credence   in   his   wake.   it   was   all   spencer   knew   how   to   do.  

 he’s   rotting   from   the   inside   out.   debts   paid   &   delivered   by   a   gut   unsheathed,   his   salvation   remained   in   the   emptiness   of   a   poisoned   chalice.   all   due   to   an   adaption   unhindered,   the   depravity   of   an   unknown   world   kept   him   tethered   to   the   ways   of   civility   &   here   he   was,   punished   for   weakness.   thumb   &   forefinger   trap   the   bridge   of   his   nose,   a   tongue   swipes   to   lacquer   brims,   the   wish   for   sobriety   consuming   his   thoughts,   if  only   he   could   sober   up   for   his   dignity’s   sake...   a   guttural   groan   resonates,   ❛   what  does   that   even   mean?   ❜   spencer   asks,   exhausted   by   the   crypticness    of   their  conversation.   mia,   as   always,   remained   an   enigma   to   him   &   inebriated   ignorance   prevails.   ❛   you   see   me?   what   is   that? ❜

BOJACK HORSEMAN (S5E6: FREE CHURRO) STARTER SENTENCES / accepting.