#smrnffvdka

[razorfst]

@smrnffvdka liked for a bloody Andrei:

This wasn't how this fight was supposed to go. Sure it could have been worse, he could have lost, but this felt just the same to him now. A tie, another set back, something that made him feel he wasn't good enough and that he was only disappointing those around him. He knew his father had told him it was okay, that there wasn't anything to be ashamed of and that he was proud of him. However, he still couldn't fully believe it, not entirely. He looked like he lost, despite both men looking beaten and bloody. No one looked like a winner, the score cards even echoed that same sentiment and yet here he was looking like he lost his first professional fight. And the fear that after it all he would be alone slowly started to sink in as he sat in the locker room, unmoving. Deep breaths taken slowly as he keeps attention away from the door as he was afraid of who might not even walk through. And yet the door opened, the footsteps to light to be his father. Brow furrows a moment as he tries to place it before eventually daring to lift his head himself to see who it was. Well, mostly out of one eye as the other remained swollen for now. "You stayed?" He asked, the surprise in his voice evident that she was even standing in front of him.

[cursedvalor]

𝖙𝖍𝖊  𝖇𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌  𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖞  was  a  world  away  from  the  quiet  opulence  of  his  life,  and  he  reveled  in  the  anonymity  it  offered.  no  one  recognized  him.  no  one  cared.  and  yet,  as  he  walked  past  a  group  of  people  waiting  for  a  crosswalk,  he  felt  an  unsettling  shiver  crawl  up  his  spine.  a  feeling.  a  sense  that  someone  was  looking  at  him  just  a  little  too  closely.  his  hand  instinctively  brushed  his  collar,  and  he  glanced  around,  half-expecting  someone  to  step  forward  and  address  him.  but  no  one  did.

he  exhaled,  shaking  the  thought  off  as  he  approached  a  small  café  tucked  between  two  tall  buildings.  the  warm,  inviting  glow  of  the  interior  promised  the  kind  of  quiet  that  could  soothe  his  nerves.  he  pushed  open  the  door  and  stepped  inside.  the  café  was  fairly  full,  the  only  open  spot  next  to  a  woman  near  the  back.  he  moved  to  the  table,  hand  on  the  back  of  the  seat  with  a  slight  but  genuine  smile.

❝  excuse  me.  ❞  no  matter  how  much  he  tried  to  hide  it,  the  romanian  accent  still  rang  through.  ❝  do  you  mind?  just  for  a  moment?  ❞

☾              ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━               @smrnffvdka  ;  liked  for  a  starter

[malignantdevil]

𝖍𝖎𝖘  𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖘,  𝖙𝖍𝖊  𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖊  𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓  his  lungs  and  the  bones  that  held  his  breath,  were  waiting.  they’d  been  begging  for  something  meaningful  to  fill  the  empty  expanse,  and  dag  thought  he  had  just  the  thing.  he  pushed  open  the  door,  the  noise  of  the  door  barely  registering  in  his  mind.  the  studio  smelled  of  ink,  and  the  hum  of  the  machines  was  comforting,  almost  familiar.  one  other  person  stood  in  his  sight.  dag  shifted,  then  held  out  the  folded  paper  between  them.

❝  hey,  ❞  he  began,  his  voice  rough  from  lack  of  use,  but  steady  enough.  ❝  do  you  have  availability?  i’ve  got  a  design…  well,  it’s  something  i’ve  been  working  on.  feel  free  to  fuck  around  with  it.  ❞  dag’s  fingers  flexed,  the  inked  tattoos  on  his  hands  shifting  slightly  with  the  motion.  his  eyes  never  left  hers,  though  there  was  a  flicker  of  uncertainty  inside  him.  it  wasn’t  the  first  time  he’d  asked  this  question,  but  this  design  —  his  design  —  felt  different.  it  had  meaning,  it  was  personal,  and  for  some  reason,  the  idea  of  it  being  dismissed  pulled  at  his  chest.

 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━            ࣪𖤐⋆˖⁺‧₊         @smrnffvdka  &  dag  landvik

[sirensought]

@smrnffvdka sent — ; [ feed ] sender feeds receiver's pet/s for them

"the bag is just under the cabinet there," his foot kicks out from where he stands, stretching toward the cabinet in question, "but you really don't have to do that. he may act like he's starving but he can wait until after we've eaten." 

his words accompanied by a light chuckle, attention drifting from the pan he'd been stirring on the stove before him. it was a pretty funny sight; max excitedly trotting around the kitchen trailing behind imogen as she prepares his bowl for him. especially considering the pooch had just been whimpering and whining under eric's feet like it was the end of the world mere minutes before. but it's no surprise to eric that max once again had gotten his way, for a dog he is incredibly charming. and a master of manipulation. 

[h-a-unted]

"You won't even realise the pain is gone until time has passed." (@smrnffvdka for reacher)

He thinks it mere pleasantry or a way to alleviate an ache temporarily – things nice people do... There's no way, is there? That the pain could ever subside – memories ablaze in his brain like angered embers, threatening to burn him whole.

How could he ever get over the loss? How could he ever not mourn? Killing did little to alleviate the pain, and it felt like time had made it even worse... Would it even be right not to feel pain, anymore?

That nagging voice still bothers him – you should be doing more. You have to do more. A quiet breath comes, he looks to any immediate point nearby, anything but Imogen herself.

"Do you speak from experience or just assume it's the right thing to say?"

[paralyziingfears]

dates  were  never  really  joey's  thing  to  begin  with.  he  was  more  comfortable  along  the  lines  of  random  meet-ups  at  a  nightclub  or  some  dingy  bar,  maybe  even  hooking  up  with  someone  he  met  on  the  job.  but,  this  was   —   different,  out  of  his  comfort  zone.  almost  completely  foreign  to  him.  he  wasn't  sure  what  to  think  of  it  or,  really,  how  to  act.  joey  sat  across  from  @smrnffvdka,  twirling  around  the  pint  of  his  beer  that  he  was  nursing  on  since  he  was  so  nervous.  his  date  seemed  distracted  like  she  was  elsewhere,  thinking  about  something  else  or  possibly  someone  else.  it  hurt  his  ego  a  bit.  ❛  sorry,  did  i  do  somethin'  t'  piss  you  off  or  ...  ?  ❜  he  asked,  an  awkward  chuckle  passing  his  lips.

it’s  just…been  a  really  weird  day.

his  brows  raise  inquisitively  at  her  response,  leaning  in  on  the  table  with  his  elbows  resting  atop.  ❛  really  ?  how  so  ?  tell  me  ❜  he  asked,  taking  a  sip  of  his  beer.  ❛  can't  be  any  weirder  than  my  fuckin'  day  ❜  he  laughed.

[necrotiic]

@smrnffvdka said “  𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔𝒏’𝒕 ‘𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉’.  ”

by all right, the words uttered were 𝐓 𝐑 𝐔 𝐄. it was a deep laceration. these things happen. nothing is fool proof ; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵.

the lab can bite back, and boy oh boy, did she take a chink outta' me. a woman's touch is doting upon me, however, and i think her observation has spoken to what little corrupted soul i have left because i find myself actually wishing for it to be cleaned now.

perhaps i should be more careful when cooking. meth seems easy 'till you're knee-deep within it. i forget sometimes . . . . . ( or i just don't give a fuck ).

i scoff at the thought of making a mistake, however, and attempt to act as if i am unbothered by the fact i slacked off.

❝ pfft, just a simple flesh wound, sugar. nothin' to worry 'bout. ❜

[necrotiic]

@smrnffvdka send 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒂   𝒔𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓   𝒐𝒓   𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎   𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓   𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏

i managed to get the other fucker out . . . but this one, ha, she was deterined to stick into wretched flesh like a stubborn stinger. she felt good, honestly. i relish in physical agony these days. the more it hurts, the harder my cock gets ( theoretically ). but this . . . so close to the clavicle bone . . . i planned to just leave it.

let it f e s t e r

and fill up with puss and slime and filth. like my soul. but she was determined. some vagabond i guess. a new customer? i don't fuckin' know anymore.

seems more and more weirdos and freaks are showing up every single day and to be frank, i ain't havin' it. eh, what can 'ya do. sell 'em dope 'n hope they croak after they go broke . . . really didn't mean to rhyme there. whatever. i point to the needle nose pliers and some bacardi one-fifty-one. all the disinfecting you'll ever need is right there in that half empty bottle. i am kind of giddy at the thought of b l e e d i n g and feeling that b u r n.

tempting to cauterize it just for some good laughs.

❝ fine fine if you insist sugar . . . shit you'll need is over there . . . ❜