22bananapudding - Elijah/roma

In his dreams, Steve’s liver was between his teeth. There was a slit down his side, moonlight painting the white of his skin. The asset knew that his teeth were painted with blood, but the wound did not weep it. It stayed perfectly sealed inside of his beautiful body, unlike the organs he so carelessly ripped out with his jaw.

Steve was asleep, or unconscious, but he was not dead. Through his hot flesh the asset could feel his heartbeat, and it unsettled him. Another cut was made, and the asset pulled apart Steve’s ribs reverently. They came undone like yarn, slipping through flesh and metal fingers. It was too easy. The asset wrapped his metal hand around Steve’s heart. He knew not of the feeling of skin against beating tissue, and he had no intention of enlightening himself. Closing flesh around such an organ would be too close to love, and the asset felt only surrender.

He pulled, first gently and then harder, squeezing like the.. thing would come squishing through the cracks of his fingers like rotten fruit. His hand stayed clean. It was almost like sex, the push and pull, and finally the asset gave in and leaned his head down, closing his teeth around Steve’s heart and biting as hard as he could. The taste of iron and rot did not come, and the asset could not penetrate the hard muscle.

“I hate you.” The asset whispered into hot blood, hoping that the salvia that rolled down his chin would drop into the cavity that he had created, maim and taint Steve’s American Dream. “I don’t want this.”

Steve was whispering in his ear. He loved him. No, no, this was not love. This was weakness. This was surrender. Surely the rip of teeth should burn, have Steve screaming and begging the asset to stop. He wanted Steve to tell him to stop. Was he giving up?

He woke up panting, and hard, and on the living room floor. Gripping a loaded revolver in his right hand, he closed his eyes and bit his lip until it bled, imagining it was Steve’s blood in his mouth instead.

Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz

"Ja z Foką i rewolwerem"/ "Me with Seal and revolver"

1899

So fucked up how every single person in Better Call Saul is doomed from the very beginning. We know that everyone working for the cartel dies in Breaking Bad. Gus, the Salamancas, Emilio, Domingo, Mike, they're all dead. Nacho never stood a chance in the first place, now he haunts the show that was set in stone when he wasn't even ink on paper. Chuck haunts the narrative even after his death, he never really leaves, does he? The cartel and the lawyers storylines had to cross over eventually, we've known that from the very beginning. Howard and Lalo getting burried under the lab Walt and Jesse cook meth in, the lab where Gus kills Victor, the lab that gets burned down. All this while their bones are in the ground, under their feet. Oh and Kim and Jimmy. Jimmy was always going to become Saul Goodman and Kim was always going to leave him at some point. It didn't matter how much they loved each other, it was never going to be a happy ending. Chuck was right, Jimmy never changed. Until he did. In the very very end. When he faced all of the consequences of his actions. The criminal-lawyer protagonist ending up in jail for the rest of his life is the perfect, poetic ending. It's just like Saul said, someone has to go to jail for all of it and that someone was always going to be Jimmy McGill. A time machine wouldn't have made a difference.

The look of love. I think.

romeo is an awful person responsible for many tragedies yes but from the perspective of a fellow Minecraft server owner/admin I'd also go literally insane this is why I haven't been drawing at all because I've been hacking away at server mod configs for 2 weeks and constantly crashing the server and never knowing why...I can't look at values the same anymore

eeby....

This is the type of photo he would use as his profile picture on Facebook

clover and gumi!

I wanna know what people assume about me because of my tumblr.

i need thunderbolts to have come out yesterday