"Yes, my inability to stay away is because of your charming demeanor. Would you like a cigarette for your troubles?"

⁂

Kiana Khansmith
Xuebing Du

titsay
Jules of Nature
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

★
cherry valley forever

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
occasionally subtle

#extradirty
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Janaina Medeiros
will byers stan first human second
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Love Begins
ojovivo
hello vonnie
Peter Solarz
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from Indonesia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from North Macedonia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Spain
seen from United States
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seen from United States
@insufferableyouth
"Yes, my inability to stay away is because of your charming demeanor. Would you like a cigarette for your troubles?"
There was always a detachment to her, and everyone knew it. The vulnerability she felt on the inside wasn't portrayed like most people. No, in her vulnerability there was pain and suffering and the prospects of abandonment. Lani Mahoney never liked those parts of herself nor sharing them with others to have them feel something or get to know her. In her mind it made her weak, and weakness wasn't something she could afford.
As she stepped out into the open air, on the stoop of their new warehouse that they had conveniently taken refuge, Lani wiped her hands on her shorts, took a few steps down onto the solid concrete and made a right. Her eyes were darting across the faces of the people she passed, looking for a specific feature, a specific person and soon enough she found him. "--Jude."
"Really?" Madison looked at the ghost and rolled her eyes when she walked into the room and heard Cassidy’s words. "You are offering to share my own alcohol with me. My alcohol that I used my money and my fake I.D. to purchase?” She reached out and took the bottle from the girl, taking a drink from it before handing it back. “How considerate…you even drank most of it.” Oh well she could buy more.
She rose her eyebrows slightly at the abruptness, her mind dancing around the cleverness that was the situation. She barely knew this girl, hell, figured the alcohol was a treat on the house but it seemed like she was reluctantly giving it back to share which was something. "I live to please," she allowed a smirk to easily slide onto her features, a steady eye on the person in front of her. "What are you doing here anyway?"
Tate had gladly adopted Cassidy as his partner in crime. After many years trapped in this damn house with only one night a year to leave, it was easy for the boy to become dreadfully bored. Fortunately though, Cassidy helped keep things very interesting for the blonde. She always had something up her sleeve as she should. “Scaring is child’s play.” He shook his head before taking another hard swig, licking his lips of any remaining alcohol. “ but… considering I am pretty child-like; yes. Lots of scaring, actually.” A mischievous smirk was offered to his friend as he glanced over to her. “And what about you?”
She watched the corner of his mouth rise into his signature smirks that allowed her to smirk right back. Of course, the flask felt a little lighter but she figured that Tate would most likely want the bottle to himself. Unscrewing the cap once more, bringing it to her lips and taking a long swig she wiped her mouth with the back of her palm and nodded. "Oh plenty of scaring. You should turn on the news sometime, Langdon," she replied with a hint of sarcasm, moving a hand through her hair.
"Being an ass does run in the family."
"Guess I'm not that far off after all."
"You really are an ass."
"Now that, that is all genetics."
A low chuckle was heard from the boy. It never ceased to amaze him the amount of confidence the girl had. It was quite amusing actually. Tate took the neck of the bottle into his large hand, unscrewing the cap and taking a large drink. A satisfied sigh left his lips. Even in death the taste of alcohol was still very much there. “Don’t push it.” He scolded, raising an eyebrow as his black hues looked back to her. Which, in Tate’s language at least, that actually meant: ‘Of course I missed you, Cass.’ But we all know that the blonde wasn’t one to express that normally.
She responded to his scold with a short nod and another smirk, hands fondling the pocket that now contained the flask. She'd been up to her own little tricks now and again but it was never any fun without Tate. She would stick closer to the murderhouse most of the time, bringing in people and eventually sentencing them to their deaths. Of course, she'd try to keep them alive long enough for them to die outside of the house- inside was much too crowded anyway. But sometimes, Cassidy did it without intention or the knowledge of doing so, or was that most of the time. She never quite thought on it for too long considering she wasn't in her right mind to do so. "What have you been up to lately, scaring the locals?"
Cassidy Knox was someone that naturally Tate took great interest to. It wasn’t often that he found someone who practically took his whole being and history with great interest other than himself that is. He had felt as if he had taken the girl under his wing from the moment that they had met. Of course though, he’s always found himself at times having to keep her in check. Even if there was this softer side of the blonde, that didn’t mean that his homicidal tendencies didn’t still remain. Even so, his little copy cat was someone of great meaning to him. Just as he had started to let the blonde trail into his thoughts, it was coincidence that he happened to hear her voice at that very moment. Looking over, his dark eyes trailed down to her hands were she had came bearing gifts. A smirk couldn’t be held from his face. “You know me all too well, Cass.”
"I'd like to hope so," she replied back, a small smirk revealing the playful energy that seemed to ignite the room. Tate always had a way of making that painful little smile raise on her lips even when she didn't want it to. Luckily, her mood was far from depressing and the voices hadn't entered her thoughts, at least for the time being. Extending her hand she gave him the bottle, unscrewing the flask and taking a small swig before screwing it back up and placing it into her pocket once more. "Missed me," she piped up with a clever little tone, her mouth curved in the smile that hadn't left her face since she arrived in hopes he actually did miss her.
She hadn't been in the house in quite some time because of certain incidents that could have linked back to her but at this moment, those didn't seem to matter to her. All that mattered was that she would be going into the famous Murderhouse, travel into the basement to find the one and only Tate Langdon-- one who she adored with her whole self more than she'd probably admit to herself but had to him on more than one occasion. Frankly the obsession was borderline but in retrospect, she wasn't all that aware nor cared in the least. If she found herself getting a little too excited, she'd hoped that the other would calmly set her straight--or reasonably straight depending on the circumstance but either way, Tate always knew what to do when it came to Cassidy-type situations. Slipping in through the doors, creeping down the steps to the basement and walking towards the middle of the room she smiled, her hand containing a bottle of alcohol, "A full bottle of your favorite and a flask just in case we run out."
"That you are nothing like Me and Gloria, or dad." He stares at him and shakes his head. "Maybe mom a bit but she is more sarcastic than you."
"Maybe I pride myself as being nothing like any of you. I can at least have my own life and do something outside of the norm in our family."
"You’re such a fucking joke. If we weren’t twins, i’d think you were adopted."
"And what makes me a joke exactly? That I'm not playing into your desire to fight?"
"I’m not stupid Scotty, you think I don’t know what you think about me?" He taps his face roughly. "Dad trained all the time and he did just fine in school. I think you just can’t handle it."
"To clarify, I never said anything but think what you will, Chaston." He looks at the other boy, watching the tension in Chaston's face and the roughness of the tap.
"Are you trying to say i’m stupid Scotty?"
"Be careful, Chaston, your insecurities are showing. Honestly, you said it, not me."
"When was the last time you worked out? Or even trained for that matter?"
"Unlike you, I'm training my mind so I could actually live comfortably when I leave our parents house."
"At the gym with dad. Don’t want to get weak, like some people."
"Are you insinuating something, Chaston?"
"And how many of those ended up with a fuck you or a punch?"
"A decent majority. Where have you been?"
"I’d love to hear you tell her that."
"I have, plenty of times."