11 Works by manicpixieginger
Listing Works
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Summary
The Fury crew (sans Bible) play Fuck, Marry, Kill.
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Shosanna is paid a visit by Hans Landa whilst she's in the middle of screening Nation's Pride. She decides to do to him as he has done unto others.
Series
- Part 1 of Goodbye
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Aldo wished he had longer fingernails as he futilely scraped at the neck of the admittedly much bigger officer, he wished he'd grabbed for his knife in the split-second he'd been tackled, wished he'd been paying attention so he'd never have been tackled in the first place. Wishing wasn't doing him a whole lot of good at that moment, however, as he lay flat on his back, face lilac and moist with sweat, gasps dry and helpless, body twitching like fresh roadkill on warm tarmac.
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how happy is the blameless vestal's lot by manicpixieginger
Fandoms: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
12 Mar 2023
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Summary
Based off a deleted scene, where Mary listens to her tape.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 320
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 86
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Summary
"He was fueled by his own reputation, drunk on ego. The sound of his own riding boots stomping up the stairs seemed to compel him to keep going - louder, more aggressive, more intimidating, more violent, more depraved, more righteous. His anticipation at the feeling of the very tip of his bowie knife against the trembling twitching warm skin of an officer's throat was sweet and addictive, the moreish taste of using brute force, throwing his weight around, even sweeter still."
Aldo enjoys killing Nazis.
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"Donowitz missed the chatter and white noise of the city. He agonized over the memories of the sound and smell of rain on concrete and tarmac. Poured over the detail of every faded shopfront in his neighbourhood, the front doors of his childhood friends' houses and apartments with dimmed paint jobs and door handles tarnished and marked from years of entering and exiting. His ribs ached with isolation."
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 996
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 70
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Summary
""So, you're tied up, limb by limb, to 4 herds of big fuck-off-horses-"
Gordo was hunched in his post in the Fury, searching his pockets for cigarettes as he posed the hypothetical.
"I told ya I don't fucken' know what you mean. What the fuck are you talkin' about fucken' limb by limb?"
Grady butted in, he never liked hypotheticals. At least not ones like this. He brought a hand to his scalp and scratched." -
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'The soft fleece lining of Donny’s jacket was tickling at his neck as he stood alone at the bar and fiddled with the loose cash in his hand, waiting for the bartender to come up with his rum and coke and Uti’s jack and coke. He chewed at the skin on his bottom lip and tapped the fingers of his free hand on the bar’s slightly sticky surface. As soon as he saw the bartender pushing his drinks towards him he quickly slammed his loose change down on the counter and shot his newly free hand out to grab the cold, condensation covered glass, nodding a thankyou to the bartender.
He bustled through the bar, trying his hardest not to spill either drink down his white t-shirt and blue jeans, or on some pleasantly drunk stranger’s shoes or coat or dress. His ears filled with music and easy chatter as he passed the window booth he and his friends would usually occupy and the entrance to the bar’s lowest floor and ascended the creaky wooden stairs to the upper floor. Until he reached about halfway up the stairs he could clearly hear the stifling bass and crooning of the amateurish band playing a rather busy gig in the basement.' -
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"Thick tendrils of smoke rose from the art deco ash tray that sat on the bedside table. The only light in the room came from the dim standing lamp planted in the corner next to the bed under a blood red rug. Shoshanna was laid with her hand on Marcel’s chest, her head on the plush pillow next to him. She tapped her fingers against his skin, his chest rising and falling as he dozed. "
This is really short but i really enjoyed writing it.
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"Early evening sunlight cast blocks of amber on peeling wallpaper through the mansion’s faded whitewashed window frames. Donowitz sat bathing in its light, scouring his bat with a distressed looking toothbrush. Its matted, now reddish-brownish bristles made contact with the increasingly less reddish-brownish wood. His nose, pink from the January cold, was scrunched in concentration as he stubbornly scrubbed at the equally stubborn pieces of dried corpse on the bat’s once shiny surface. Aldo was watching this, absentmindedly fiddling with one of his shirt buttons that was threatening to fall loose from the cotton thread it hung on and chewing a slice of slightly stale bread."
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Aldo sets the razor down and brings his hand to his face. A calloused finger brushes against his newly smooth hard jaw.
He hums in satisfaction. His first shave in a month. He has yet to scour underneath his dirty fingernails with his nailbrush, nor has he scrubbed his scarred chest with the scavenged lavender soap. But he's washed his face and he's shaved. It's a start.