I hate when people tell me I don’t understand.


Observers side? The correct side would be on my side of fucking anything.


Don’t you think I know that by now?

Posted November 14, 2013 @ 09:43 VIA

Stuck On You | Ryan/Madeline


Stupid goddamn clubs and their stupid goddamn inhabitants. Ryan glared at the man in front of him, infuriated by the way none of his usual tactics seemed to be working.

"Give me the goddamn money or I’ll take it."

It was true. Either the man cooperated or he didn’t, but Ryan was never unsuccessful. He’d get his dues one way or anything.

"Go ahead and try." The man glared back and had the nerve to take a sip of his drink. Something in one of those ridiculous, fancy glasses. Ryan wanted to smash it over his head, and he had to stop himself, remembering that Francesca didn’t like messy jobs.

"I’ll do more than try."

If it had to be messy, than at least he could start it and gain the advantage. Moving quickly, Ryan knocked the empty glass out of the man’s hands, where it fell with a ‘tinkle’ on the bar. All was still for the moment of shock.

And then Ryan reached over and nonchalantly slammed the guy’s face into the bar counter. Someone gasped - probably some rich bitch. Grabbing the back of his head by his hair, Ryan brought him back up, face set in a grimace.

"Feeling cocky now?"

'ey, he's got Timmy!”

A yell from behind them - it took Ryan a moment to realize that he had come here to shake down a certain Timothy.

Oh shi -

He was being grabbed from behind, then. Gritting his teeth, Ryan let go of Timmy and, with his free elbow, smashed into his assailant’s face. His arm hurt with the impact, so he knew it must’ve been worse for the guy.

Yeah, a fight!” A new voice yelled out.

And then the bar was in sudden chaos. It was like a switch had been triggered, and drunkards seemed to have emerged from every corner of the shitty goddamn club just to grin excitedley as they leaped into the fray.


He was grabbed again (he couldn’t tell by who), but it wasn’t that what caught hsi attention. No, it was the short woman, the one with dark hair who he had bantered with for a little while last week.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing here?"

Madeline hadn’t been at the bar long.  She’d just come from a business meeting of her own.  The “gentleman” who she’d come after hadn’t been too unlike Ryan’s Timothy, assaulting her with a backhand to the temple when she’d implored that he give her the dues owed.  Christ, for a businessman he was fucking stupid.  She’d said it once and she’d say it time and time again:  ”If you can’t pay back the mob, don’t fucking borrow from the mob.”  Asshole.

Luckily, Madeline was a dainty, pretty girl and she’d been dressed as such when she’d approached the man on the street, having followed him home from dinner.  She’d cried out and a group of men had been on him, calling him out and telling him that he shouldn’t smack around his girl like that while she clutched at her head, which really did smart.  They’d all doted on her and made sure she was alright, and soon she was alone with the man again, her gun jabbed into his cock, discreetly hidden my her coat - God bless November - and the money was in her hands.

She’d dropped it off and had immediately run to a club in search of a glass or five of white wine to make the pain in her temple to numb.  She was finally sipping on her first glass when a fight rung out.  For most women, this would just increase the head pain, but Madeline wasn’t most women.

While every other drunk asshole crushed to see the fight, Madeline slipped through them, her wine forgotten.  A well-placed rub of her ass here, a flirty glance there… She was through the throng in no time.  And with a smirk, she realized that she knew the man who was currently being grabbed from behind.  Well, she didn’t know him.  But she recognized him.

Yikes, wonder what this asshole got himself into, she thought to herself, but still felt some weird desire to help the guy out.  She liked a good scrap, after all, and it seemed this fella did too.  They were probably going to be best friends.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing here?"

Make that definitely.  If that was his concern during the middle of a fight - well, a woman couldn’t help but be flattered.

"How sweet of you to notice me!" Madeline chirped as she jumped into the fray.  She figured that the man could handle the guy grabbing him from behind, so she made her move for the other guy involved in the struggle.  He was currently clutching his nose as he wheeled around from the bar.  "You okay, darling?" she asked as she sidled up to him, then slammed the heel of her shoe into his foot.  He doubled over just in time for her other foot to connect with his balls.

She whirled around to see how her “friend” was doing.  ”Ya got everything ya came for?” she asked.  ”I think we might have to finish this conversation outside.”  She knew that the owner or security was not going to enjoy this interaction.

Posted November 13, 2013 @ 21:40 VIA

Damn it.


My hair is ruined.


Took ya long enough to notice.  It’s all we’ve been talking about for weeks.

Posted November 13, 2013 @ 21:25 VIA

I hate when people tell me I don’t understand.


Now, Now, Madeline. I think I paint I make some pretty art with the right knife and a body of an enemy.


Good point.  I’ll make sure to keep myself on the observer’s end of this.  Don’t want to turn into a portrait myself.

Posted November 13, 2013 @ 09:43 VIA



Geez, mister, no need to laugh at my innocent question.

Posted November 12, 2013 @ 21:56 VIA - SOURCE
Posted November 12, 2013 @ 21:43
Posted November 12, 2013 @ 21:34


Cash and sex.


…Wait, you actually manage to get laid?

Posted November 12, 2013 @ 21:23 VIA - SOURCE
Posted November 12, 2013 @ 21:19


I really am one of those folks.


What a shame.  You poor, confused boy.  However do you get by in this world?

Posted November 12, 2013 @ 21:11 VIA - SOURCE