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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@divinumss
NADIA MILKOVICH.
the girl seemed so innocent— so helpless in this cold, dead world, and nadia wasn’t going to let her go harmed. in hind sight, she probably should’ve seen the facade the girl was putting up, but in such a situation, it had slipped her mind.
she shaked her head gently, “ no, he’s not going to get away with a crime. “ she turned back to the thief, giving him one more stern look before he promptly returned the cans with a roll of the eyes.
blue-grey eyes follow the man as he shuffles away unhappily, the bag of items sitting at her feet. lolly’s voice rings out smoothly, each word clear and calm in her address to nadia. ❝ well, i ... i can’t thank you enough, miss. i don’t know what i would have done without -- i should pay you back. um, well ... how about you take some of these things? i mean, it’s just me. i don’t need a l l of it. ❞
what song would you say is your personal anthem?
❝ you know, music was never a big thing in our house. ❞ she hadn’t thought about it at the time, but young family was pretty B O R I N G. lolly had the most excitement in her life with the youtube thing and murder and what-not. but music? not their thing. ❝ if i have to choose ...❞ she fakes contemplation. she’s not thought about it a lot, but it has crossed her mind: what song would be the opening to a movie about her? ❝ bubblegum bitch, i think. ❞
― honesty hour ! ( not accepting )
DAVID ADEYEMI.
it’s a town that rings far too familiar to him—each street offers a memory of scraped knees, each house represents a family that stood in the bleachers at every game, and nearly each dead body represents the essence of a man, woman, or child who he once knew. their faces, now sunken in and graying, remind him of a time when things were simpler, back when smiles were exchanged for smiles and nothing more. it is not the soulless city that most people seek as a beacon of hope; no, for him it’s the pop-up book of his life. & perhaps this is the reason why he still goes door to door, hoping, no, PRAYING, that he’ll be reunited with at least one person that will be glad to see him. yes, it’s far-fetched, but it’s the best that he can do, the only thing left to have faith in.
david entered the house slowly, his baseball bat hanging so low that it was practically dragging on the hardwood floors. ❝ anyone in there ?? ❞ he questioned in a hushed tone that STILL echoed throughout the house. he shut the door as quietly as he could, making sure to not make too much noise.
cheyenne, wyoming is not much unlike other cities lolly has ventured into : crowded, decrepit, and BORING. in fact, she’s only wandered into the house to find something to do. the streets are too crowded with the dead to make slicing and dicing any fun ( she’d only be injured in process ) and the humans ... well, they were too smart to wander alone. usually.
lolly’s upstairs when she hears the door creek open, halting her pacing momentarily. ❝ hello ? ❞ she wastes no time waiting for a response before rushing to the hallway, leaning over the banister in excitement. ❝ hey ! up here ...❞ an individually sized bag of salt & vinegar chips is held between nimble fingers as the blonde glances over the male. a single chip is tossed between pink lips. ❝ you don’t live here, do you ? ❞ she pauses for only a moment before continuing. ❝ ‘cause if not, there’s nothing good in here ... unless you’re interested in a game of mahjong or phase ten. ❞
NADIA MILKOVICH.
“ i think what’s hilarious is that you think i didn’t see you. those cans aren’t yours— we work for everything we have here. if you don’t have enough of something, you ask, you don’t steal. so give her the cans back and we can act like none of this happened, or continue to be a grade-a asshole and i’ll take care of you myself. we don’t disrespect each other here, so i’d choose very carefully. “
lolly is young, soft, and innocent --- WEAK. pale lashes flutter like butterflies against pink cheeks ; her lips quiver from fright. small hands work nimbly to tuck strands of matted blonde hair behind her ear. she is not short but she crouches behind the woman she’s just met, half hidden in shadow. her gaze is averted from the rude stranger, blue eyes aimed towards the floor : everything she presents herself to be is a lie. and this is an act that she has been perfecting since childhood.
❝ miss ..., ❞ she reaches out to tap the woman on her shoulder, but falters. instead, she clears voice ( softly ) for an attempt at attention. ❝ just let him have it. i don’t ... i’ll get by somehow. i can figure something else out. ❞
OTHELLO : —and I will kill thee, And love thee after.
William Shakespeare, Othello (via aaronwarners)
do you think the person you see in the looking glass is the same person you are on the inside?
beautiful : inside & out. she would consider herself nothing less than p e r f e c t. ❝ well absolutely, ❞ her response is lilted, sweet. soft even. ❝ inner beauty shines through, you know. ❞
― honesty hour !
bold which habits your muse has
crookedwrites:
nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back of their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders