#sorrynotmydivision

[sweetmollyhooper-inactive-blog]

//Any Greg who wants to plot something Molstrade?

[alwayswestwood]

I've been hearing you want to meet me, Jimbo. Man to man, yeah? -GL

Not quite, but close, pookie. I’m merely contemplating whether I will send Sebastian to shoot you or not (‘Jimbo’ did help with making up my mind, though). My office - if you don’t know the address, I’m sure the Colonel will gladly give you directions. -JM

[the-urban-tiger]

Oh, aren't you being a cheeky little fuck today. You really want to know? Assuming he'd even want to touch a little prick like you, it'd be entirely to make a point with me; maybe a bit of curiosity to see why his sniper is fucking stupid enough to keep going back when he knows it's going to be his flesh paying for it later. Doesn't matter how he fucks you as long as he's sure I know about it. Maybe I'd even get to watch. You ever been chained down while someone cuts into you nice and slow with a knife? Buried in their tight heat as they move, completely at their mercy while they bleed you, string you apart until you can't even beg, can't even whimper, every nerve on fire and all you can do is hope you were good enough they'll let you come. I'll sure as hell be the one ordered to put the bullet in your brain once he's had enough of you but then again... maybe he'd want a more personal touch. A show to finish the night off with my hands wrapped around your throat.  Assuming you aren't dead the moment he gets off, either you're living on borrowed time or conscripted into service. Borrowed time means you're just a walking target, a bloody time bomb waiting for the text that will end you, knowing it's coming but never quite sure when your last seconds will be. It'll gnaw at you, keep you from sleep, drive you mad knowing the fuse it burning to a near end you can't see. And if you're part of the family, that makes me your boss, doesn't it? God help you then. Under my complete supervision. I'll have you on a choke chain, at my beck and call. And I will make you beg for mercy. You haven't seen me at my worst yet and there aren't words for the things I'd do to you. Things you can't even imagine. Oh, don't get me wrong- you'd enjoy it. Most of it. ... Well, some of it. I'd enjoy every second of it, every noise I dragged out of you, every mark I'd spread across your skin. I would wreck you. Because that's my boss, love. And no one gets to him without going through me.