PAVED WITH BEST INTENTIONS

private multimuse ;; if you know, you know

[theroadtohellis]

‘ i don’t think it was you who shot them. ’ bucky @ ginny, hydra verse hmm

@baadluckclub | yeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhh boiiiiiii

no, she wanted them alive. now look at it- what a mess. 

“ain’t you sweet.” she doesn’t resist the smile, despite the blood surrounding them, despite her objective being shot to shit. they were after the same target, likely with the same goal of capture or at least interrogation.

the blood was just getting tacky, the bodies slowly starting to rigor before their eyes. whoever had killed their targets was near- near enough to worry. she doesn’t feel eyes on her, but forgive her if her senses are clouded by the proximity of him. 

she didn’t plan on going after the same target as him, but their fates have a funny way of intersecting, and she certainly isn’t going to let him think he’s ever free from her watchful gaze. she’ll let him assume she exists purely to vex him for as long as she can. 

she crouches next to one of the men- a scientist, blue with death and lack of sunlight before that- and inspects the wound. “who ever got these two was able to get right up to ‘em.” her gloved hand pulled the shirt aside. “silenced, ten mil.” more rummaging- his pockets had been turned out by the one who killed them. nothing of interest, not even any change. a frown. 

“whoever got them can’t be far. they’re still warm.”  the enemy of my enemy - - “i’d say we make scarce, if i ever dreamed of telling you what to do.” well, i’ve bossed you around quite a bit, and there were no complaints then. “what do you think the over-under of him watching us is?” 

the noise catches her attention and her hand goes to the holstered pistol at the small of her back. “nevermind.” listening hard, keeping low to reduce herself as a target. she glances to bucky, briefly, amused smile firmly in place. what a fine mess. 

[vhsmeme]

* derry girls starters

a collection of lines from the tv show.

‘ is the point, ‘i’d like to get beaten up’? ’

‘ some lovely sentiments there. some very beautiful words. unfortunately, that’s all they are. sentiments and words. ’

‘ teenagers have rights now, you know. ’

‘ you recognize the legal system of a brutal, imperialistic oppressor, do you? ’

‘ i don’t want to be in that boat. i want to be in a different boat, sailing down a totally different river. ’ 

‘ it’s much, much too greasy! even the smell of it makes me feel physically sick! ’

‘ i’ll compromise you through that window. ’

‘ the last thing we want is another dead body on our hands here. ’

‘ she’s coming. the woman. the small, angry penguin woman. ’ 

‘ that’d be fabby-dabby-do. ’

‘ i don’t think the CIA enjoy people tracking the president down. i think they can get funny about that type of stuff. ’

‘ drugs are for mugs, folks. ’

‘ i don’t want to answer the question. i’m not comfortable with the question. ’ 

‘ it is a bad idea. it’s a very bad idea. ’

‘ when you think about it, we’ve actually got a lot in common, ‘cause we understand what it’s like to be a young person from a troubled place. ’

‘ don’t answer. that might be him. that might be the polar bear! ’

‘ look, i’m not a clone. i should be allowed to express my individuality. ’ 

‘ you seriously need to chill the fuck out. ’

‘ no, because that would be – what’s the word now? – normal. ’ 

‘ it’s terrible. there’s old people down there. what if an old person takes one?! ’

‘ what you’ve just witnessed is a piece of fiction. the reality, i’m sorry to say, is much harsher. far more brutal. ’

‘ the holy smirk, thanks be to god. ’

‘ sometimes in order to do the right thing, you have to do the wrong thing. and on this occasion, right is wrong and wrong is right. ’

‘ you shouldn’t swear, because when you swear, our lady in heaven, she cries her tears and then make rain. isn’t that right? ’

‘ you were ‘like’ a thief in the night?! you actually were a thief in the night! ’

‘ is that grand, or is that actually a criminal offense? ’ 

‘ you’re gonna have to never say that sentence again. ’

‘ why does everybody get so sentimental about old people? ’  

‘ look, you’re family. well, you’re good people. well, you’re decent people. ’

‘ nobody is just going to hand us things. but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have things. ’

‘ you will go far in life. but you will not be well liked. ’ 

‘ congratulations. that might be the dickiest sentence that anyone’s ever said.’

‘ what part of me not giving a flying fuck are you struggling with, exactly? ’

[theroadtohellis]

“Which bullet has my name on it? The first or the last?” HYDRA VERSE HYDRA VERSE

@baadluckclub | fuck me up fuck me upppp

“they all do, darlin’.” red lips curled into a satisfied smirk. this is how they flirt, now. or, rather, this is how she flirts with him. he rarely has as much fun as she does on their brief meetings or phone calls. 

hydra’s leash is tight, but they underestimate her. ( she’s not a red room graduate, she’s not a super soldier, she’s just an ex-marine who tastes bile when she says semper fi. a b-list spy who got lucky enough to cross paths with the goddamn winter soldier and live. not an asset, but a tool, as interchangeable as a hammer. )

they all do. his name is etched into everything; every breath, every heartbeat, every dream she is running from him, to him, or- the worst- she’s not running at all. lazy, sleepy, hazy half formed images of how unguarded he was when he slept next to her, that well-oiled scent that clung to him; never quite scrubbed away by his soap, like he tried to get rid of what made him him, trying to be something normal for her. 

“’cause i assume the same for you, given the chance.” 

[theroadtohellis]

‘ just keep in touch. i’d like to know whether you’re dead or alive. ’ definitely sam @ frank

@baadluckclub | grudging psychic connectionnn

she was prepared for the biting, “where are you?” before she picked up the phone, but that doesn’t stop her wince. she doesn’t respond immediately, so he follows up. ‘just keep in touch. i’d like to know whether you’re dead or alive.’ 

she didn’t tell him she was leaving. she leaves, sometimes, it’s not a big deal. 

except this time it might be. and sam knows, even if she didn’t say anything, even if she just disappeared like she always did. she’d call it dumb luck if she - - well, there is a non-zero chance of fatality on this little excursion. 

and he knows. the same way she knows he’s pacing around her studio, agitated like a caged animal. she just does. the details of her life aren’t a mystery to him; he knows who her sister is, what she does, and to a lesser extent knows that affects frank. it is only very rarely when her steady hands get enlisted for work that doesn’t involve a paintbrush. 

“you’ll know, samuel.” one way or another. “could you water my pothos, please? and my hosta.” the cacti- tripled in number since she met sam- would be fine without water until she returned. he hadn’t told her he is in her apartment, but when has that stopped either of them from knowing these things?

[theroadtohellis]

baadluckclub‌:

the bike kicks up dust as they tear out of the abandoned building’s lot as soon as he feels her arms secured around his waist. there’s yelling and gunfire coming from behind them and bucky sets his jaw, keeps one hand on the bike as the other reaches for his pistol and he fires back into the mayhem. 

it’s as unsafe a maneuver as they come—god knows what ginny is thinking back there—but lucky for the both of them, he pulls it off with easy familiarity. one of the bullets hits its mark and a shooter collapses to the ground. it’s good enough. what he came for is tucked away safely on a usb in his pocket; all that matters now is getting to safety. 

his place is never an option, and he discards the idea of driving to ginny’s shop just as easily. those men will have seen her with him and if they can’t find him first they’ll definitely try and find her. bucky silently thanks nick for the handful of safehouses he set up around the city and slips his pistol back into its holster. 

bucky spares a quick glance back at the blonde, a silent question in his eyes: are you okay? she held herself well back there, and—was she flirting with him? the thought flits across his mind. no, she couldn’t have been. could she? 

he shakes the thought from his head as they finally pull into the safehouse’s garage. there are other questions that need answering. 

“what were you doin’ there?” he asks before the engine finishes rumbling. it’s not accusatory; she did save his ass, but it is pointedly curious. his gaze falls on her pistol. he wonders if she’s maybe more than a mechanic. 

(that should have occurred to him earlier, before the thought about her flirting.) 

“’cause i know why i was and i know why they were, but you? aside from saving my ass? i haven’t gotta clue.”

ginny isn’t a spy- she’s a mechanic, and a good one. she was other things, what she thought was a lifetime ago, that came rushing back and now grip her just as tightly as she’s gripping james. the purpose of bootcamp, of drills, of all the training soldiers go through is to be able to do it in their sleep, so when they’re mad with adrenaline they can still function- even functional optimally. no, she hasn’t lost that in the five years since she left the marines.

she’ll look back and wonder how long she managed to stay out of trouble. not that she didn’t try. she runs a perfectly legitimate business, the backup plan to working in a hospital- those classes she took while enlisted down the drain, she just couldn’t stand seeing her hands bloody anymore. ( she doesn’t just fix cars, no, but she hopes that doesn’t become relevant. )

if ginny was a spy, she would have shot for him- as it stands, her ears ring all the way back to the safehouse. at his look back, her expression changes from one of grim concentration to a small smile and a nod. she is- hardly the worst she’s been through, though she’s more concerned with how okay she is with it all.

it shouldn’t have been that easy.

she doesn’t quite hear him over the subdued ringing in her ears and the final rumbles of his bike, but she still has the skill of lip reading and context clues to understand his question. the rest of what he says is easier to hear as she adjusts.

she runs a hand through her hair, righting the pieces that had blown out from her braid in the fight and motorcycle ride. she feels the weight of her gun, resists crossing her arms to hide it as she’s so used to. she shoves her hands in the pockets of her bomber jacket and lets out a heavy sigh as she chooses her words.

“some kind of luck.” a shrug, her expression back to the grim concentration she had on the bike. “my sister is an artist and uses one of the buildings nearby for these big shows.” not technically legally, but francis never paid that much mind. “heard a commotion, sounded like trouble- -” it was, and she is quickly putting together that james is trouble. “saw you and - - -” shot two people and created a distraction. another shrug.

it was a profoundly stupid thing to do. genevieve marie bauer is, of course, profoundly stupid, so this is no surprise to her.

“seems like bad business to let my best customer catch a bullet.” a joke to smooth things over, her smile coming back. since he offered to pay her double to fix his bike, and he hasn’t shot her yet, she doesn’t think she’s in immediate danger from him. but her heart is still pounding, she’s sure she’s flushed and he can see her breathing slow and deep, keeping herself in check.

she has to do something. she has never been good at standing still, let alone after a firefight. “you hurt at all? i can take a look - might be better in a kitchen, though.”

[10ccs]

sam’s biggest hang up in band verse is that frank could swing more girls than he could 

[theroadtohellis]

@coffincoven | sent a meme i deleted while replying because I got too excited

“lesbian satanists.” cat @ ginny

ginny has known cat since they were teenagers. ginny was still enlisted; cat a hero, or something like it. now ginny’s buttoned up, no longer the wild, sharp grinning marine who was more likely to start a bar fight than look at someone with an icy glare to diffuse a situation. now cat is treated just below open hostility at SHIELD when she pays a call.

ginny is busy. SHIELD busy. her office at hq, small but workable, piles of papers between her and her old friend, who stands with her palms flat on the desk, leaning to make her point. the handler- because someone made the call to pull her out of the field from being an operative, no matter how much better suited she is for that than being an office jockey- looks up with one of her characteristic, icy glares. 

until it breaks, her red lips pursing to hold in her smile until she can’t, and she grins up to the taller woman. 

“Now you’re just threatening me with a good time,,” she leans back in her chair, looking at the clock. “It sounds important.” a glance back to cat, that can only mean it sounds fun. 

if it’s weird, call miclea. if miclea needs help, why shouldn’t ginny do it? it’d come around and bite them in the ass if she didn’t- - it is simply being preemptive.

ginny is slowly going insane- well, insane for her might mean different things than for anyone else. her mind is made up, regardless. the short, muscular woman stands and reaches for her pistol and her coat in one movement. “if we hurry, they can’t stop us- - -”

James Bond Sentence Starters

“I always enjoyed learning a new tongue.” “I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.” “I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife.” “I think they were on their way to a funeral.” “I’m giving you the opportunity to walk out with your life.” “I won’t consider myself to be in trouble until I start weeping blood.” “I admit killing you would be a pleasure.” “Oh, I travel… a sort of licensed troubleshooter.” “In my business, you prepare for the unexpected.” “Why is it that people who can’t take advice always insist on giving it?” “Which bullet has my name on it? The first or the last?” “She always did enjoy a good squeeze.” “Darling, what could possibly go wrong, eh?” “Some men are coming to kill us. We’re going to kill them first.” “Oh good, here comes a train.” “You know, you’re cleverer than you look.” “ I know where you keep your gun. ‘Suppose that’s something.” “I’m sorry I’m not sorry.” “The job’s done and the bitch is dead.” “Do I look like I give a damn?” “I have a slight inferiority complex.” “The world is not enough.”

[weltenwellen]

“how does one scream in thunder?”

— Sonia Sanchez, from “Elegy (for MOVE and Philadelphia),” Of Poetry and Protest

[theroadtohellis]

@baadluckclub | civ verse | from here!

it is not legal to carry a firearm in new york city. 

neither is shooting someone with that illegal weapon. genevieve never cared much for petty things like laws, but she also never reflected on how deep that went. self reflection is well above her limitations. the weapon is for protection- greenpoint crew catching wind of a little mechanic setting up shop in contested territory, bratva looking for an in, the general violence of city life- - ginny didn’t exactly go waving her gun in the streets. ( guns, in truth, the little 10mm on her chest just for social engagements. her rifle remains locked, hidden. ) 

she hadn’t shot anyone in four years, just as long since she’d been in a fire fight. way back to helmand province. she hadn’t shot a gun without ear protection at a range since then- her ears are ringing and she barely hears james speaking to her. 

thankfully, it is only natural to simply react. to move. her heart is pounding as she hops on the bike behind him, wrapping her trembling arms around his middle. pure physiological response, exaggerated by the time it’s been since she had done anything like this.

her brain swimming in adrenaline, she doesn’t think about what this means for james- what job? what was he doing in a firefight in an abandoned building in new york city? ( she heard the commotion, she drew her gun and went in. not the wisest move, but genevieve bauer would never be called wise by anyone. )

most importantly, where are they going? she knows she wouldn’t understand the answer given the roar of the bike and her impaired hearing immediately following gunshots. they aren’t too far from her shop in greenpoint but would he risk leading them back to her home? is he even safe to trust? it makes no sense to her for him to be a spook- he’s nothing like the creeps her mother worked with- so she doesn’t even consider that an option. organized crime? a cop? neither bodes well. 

( she has three bullets left. she prefers the outcome where she doesn’t fire any shots for the rest of the evening. )

[cmissary]

“If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell.”

— Vergil, Aeneid VII.312 (via thoodleoo)

[seemoreandmore]

SABINA TABAKOVIC

[hamndgirig]

the girl who played with fire ( book ) sentence meme

       inc. nsfw, homophobic & misogynistic slurs, violence and rape mention.

‘ aren’t you going to offer me a cup of coffee? ’ ‘ just how dangerous is she? ’ ‘ would you like company? ’ ‘ i have no reason to forgive you. ’ ‘ you ever touch me again, i will kill you. ’ ‘ i’m going to stop having sex with guys who smell of smoke. ’ ‘ you look like you just woke up. ’ ‘ that was brave but awfully stupid. ’ ‘ my kitchen is 100 per cent ikea. ’ ‘ i thought you were dead or something. ’ ‘ do you want me to leave? ’ ‘ you’re such a mystery. you never talk about yourself. ’ ‘ i burned everything that would burn. ’ ‘ just keep in touch. i’d like to know whether you’re dead or alive. ’ ‘ you’re an entropic chaos factor. ’ ‘ in that case, all that’s left is for me to commit suicide. ’ ‘ you don’t give a shit about other people. ’ ‘ usually it’s other people who don’t give a shit about me. ’ ‘ i thought you’d died. ’ ‘ you really are out of your mind. ’ ‘ now you’re really going to have to explain to me who you are and what you want. ’ ‘ this is going to be a long night. ’ ‘ go home and get some sleep. ’ ‘ we don’t know the motive for the murders. ’ ‘ it was an execution, pure and simple. ’ ‘ i need a burger. ’ ‘ i can keep a secret, if that’s what you’re wondering. ’ ‘ is she unbalanced? ’ ‘ is she capable of murdering two people in cold blood? ’ ‘ i’m a cynic. i believe everyone has it in them to kill another person. ’ ‘ shit, the whores are looking worse all the time. ’ ‘ you’d have to be pretty desperate to pick her up. ’ ‘ it doesn’t feel like the act of a lone nutcase. ’ ‘ can you describe the man you say you saw attack her? ’ ‘ does she have a police record? ’ ‘ i don’t think it was you who shot them. ’ ‘ they sell handcuffs and whore outfits and stuff like that. ’ ‘ lesbian satanists. ’ ‘ maybe you don’t give a damn but i want to know who killed my friends. ’ ‘ what would you do if it was me? ’ ‘ don’t you like men? ’ ‘ i don’t give a shit what you believe. ‘ ‘ how i choose to live my life and who i have sex with is none of your business or anyone else’s. ’ ‘ so you found my strap-on in my drawer. what did you fantasise about then? ’ ‘ my answer is that it’s none of your fucking business. ‘ ‘ that surly cunt is squirming like a snake. ‘ ‘ am i being arrested for anything? ‘ ‘ if your questions piss me off, i won’t answer. ‘ ‘ there are no innocents. there are, however, different degrees of responsibility. ‘ ‘ fuck you too. need help? ’ ‘ she’s one fucking freaky chick. ’ ‘ you had made her angry. ‘ ‘ i’m not innocent. but i didn’t kill them. ‘ ‘ even psychopaths need motives. ‘ ‘ do i look like a satanist? ‘ ‘ you’re a sadistic pig, a pervert, and a rapist. ‘ ‘ as far as i’m concerned, you should be put to death at once. ‘ ‘ she was a whore. whores get paid. ‘ ‘ it’s not me you need to ask for forgiveness. ‘ ‘ you didn’t have sex with her. you raped her. ’ ‘ you must be one of the sorriest perverts i’ve ever met. ‘ ‘ you look like a car crash. ’ ‘ i’m going to kill you! ‘ ‘ thanks for being my friend. ‘ ‘ in case you get any stupid ideas, if you even try to get up i’ll shoot you right in the gut. ’ ‘ you look like shit. like a fucking prostitute. ‘ ‘ you’d really like to kill me, wouldn’t you? ‘ ‘ there can’t be a man who’d want you. ‘ ‘ he’s not a fairy. he just doesn’t have sex. ‘ ‘ she was always the one with the brains — you were just worthless filth. ‘ ‘ you’re just a run-of-the-mill creep who hates women. ‘ ‘ i can tell him to break the bones in your body one by one until you answer. save us the trouble. ‘ ‘ do you really think this is going to blow over? ‘ ‘ i’m going to kill you too. ‘ ‘ you came here to kill me and nothing else. ‘

[obscuur]

Alisa Mezhenska

[surfareis]