* 𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐈.

𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 & 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 & 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐡𝐪..

[mementovida]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄!

“ 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍,” he initiated with the person closest to him. “What is that thing?” Confusion began mapping his features the moment Steve gestured toward a small child--or rather, more specifically, what the kid was holding, a Nintendo Switch. “Is that--what? A radio scanner or--some kind of.. phone? Or--?” The more he failed to grasp at an answer, the worse did exasperation jut from his tone, and could you blame him? This was like the ninth one of those red-and-blue things he had gotten a glimpse of since he first arrived and he was feeling a little out of his depth of field. Someone help him out here.

[mementovida]

lotuspetalsxx‌:

OPEN STARTER

It’s been a bit of a long day, and Peter decides he could use a bit of a pick-me-up on his way home from work. He doesn’t live terribly far from the university, so it’s one of those days he decided to walk just to get some extra exercise. A coffee shop gets his attention…it’s not beer, (which is his usual means of a boost) but it’ll keep him awake enough to start grading all those papers he needs to get a headstart on.  Peter heads inside, surprised at how busy it is at this time of the afternoon. He stands in line, looking around, taking in the atmosphere of the place and just people watching. After a short while, he feels a presence behind him, and then almost immediately is shoved forward by the impact of a body against his.  He turns around to confront his ‘attacker,’ wanting to find out if it’s an accident or if someone wants to start a fight.  “You good, there?” 

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐔𝐏 this close to a university was beyond him, but it seemed about right. Getting lost. That seemed to be his calling ever since he got to this town, one filled with futuristic gadgets which would seem cool if not for, you know, the murders. He was making an attempt not to think about that for the time being though, instead, he decided to stop at whatever a ‘Starbucks’ was.  No sooner does he make it past the squeaky front door that announced his arrival, that he was greeted with a line. Starbucks was popular, he was quickly making the mental note. Just as the line budged up a little, his attention wandered towards his right, where some kid was looking at a--was that a flat cassette tape? A crease mounted by his brow, though before he can open his mouth, he belatedly learned he hadn’t stopped walking--colliding straight into a wall. Scratch that, no, that was way too soft to be a wall--definitely the person standing in front of him. Steve quickly rectified for his mistake, putting two steps between himself and the other for good measure just as the man turned to face him. ”No--I mean, yeah, yes,” he scrambled to reply, “All good here, pal.” Not knowing if that sufficed as an answer, he awkwardly scratched his brow with the back of his thumb before gesturing towards the culprit, that of the teen holding an iPhone, “I was just wondering what the hell that was. You got one of those?” 

[mementovida]

lvstparty‌:

Josie normally didn’t mind being outside during a light sprinkle, but a downpour like this was something completely different.  She wasn’t too far from home, but she still didn’t want to brave the storm and walk back.  She felt the other woman’s eyes examining her, and she pursed her lips, shifting her weight uncomfortably.  At her request, she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.  “I guess that’s a sacrifice I can make.”  She smiled softly.

𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 that’d been made painfully obvious to Villanelle so far, it was that no one here possessed much of a sense of style, at least, for her standards, anyway. Maybe this girl could prove useful to her, though. Masking her disdain for small-talk, she looked up and then away--her attention snagging on a nearby piece of merchandise. “The blue dress would look good on you,” announced more a matter-of-factly than with underlying good intent. She was still giving the garment a thoughtful look before skipping forth without missing a beat, “So where are you from? Well, before,” she made an exasperated sort of glance at their surroundings, her brows knitting to further fill-in the blank before clarifying, “--all this.” 

[mementovida]

thedefectives‌:

𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒔𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔 on account of his weak stomach for such tragedies, but to his knowledge it was only a calling card. The whispers he had heard didn’t exactly go into detail about how gruesome said calling card actually was. Had the boy known he may have kept his distance, for what could he do to save somebody who had already fell victim to his maniac? In this situation he was [ u s e l e s s ]. This place was torture. Not knowing where you stood, while also feeling an innate call to step up and do your part made Peter a bundle of nerves constantly. Well, almost constantly. There were moments when he put his own distressing thoughts of being lost aside and focused on comforting others. Saving others.

The crowd was growing, and so were the whispers. One voice in particular stood out among the group. A melodic little accent that Peter would have guessed belonged somewhere in the U.K. His chocolate eyes tried to subtly scan off to his right, just to see if he could pinpoint the chipper tone’s source. That was the first time he laid his eyes on Nathan Young and somehow, he felt confused. This man was making light of such a travesty, and Peter just couldn’t grasp why. He wanted to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the other’s mannerism but- why would he? He didn’t understand where it was coming from, so how could he judge him? He turned his eyes back towards the definite crime scene, wondering when police would finally arrive to set up some boundaries. Just as Peter thought this though it seemed this ill humored man was waltzing right up to the damn bodies.

Peter’s entire body went ridged with anxiety. He shouldn’t touch them! He shouldn’t even approach, and yet this stranger was. Peter, being one to jump at any given opportunity to do some good, stepped forward from the crowed. Sure, he muttered a few apologies as he pushed his way through, but eventually he broke through a wall of people and just in time to see the older boy hold up a coupon. “Dude, that’s not-… you don’t know if that’s evidence or what.” Sure, it probably wasn’t, but what if? He didn’t mean to call him out in front of all these people. In fact, he would have preferred not to, yet here they were. Two boys standing dangerously close to some dead bodies while the police were on their way hopefully.

𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐏-𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐏. The flimsy coupon swayed in the pinch he had it trapped between, only getting a few shakes out of it before an unfamiliar chime voices its complaint. There was slight downward movement in the corner of his mouth. When had someone materialized next to him? He turned on the shorter, brows raising toward the mess of curly locks, “Oh, evidence? Why didn’t ‘ya say that before?” he humored, feigning interest before the biting wit sunk in, “Yeah, let’s just see if the killer was plannin’ on taking a relaxin’ yoga class, you’re a real detective--!” Who does this guy think he is, anyway? Nathan gave him a quick once over before he went to turn, and as though forgetting the gore-fest that awaited him he realized his mistake a moment too late and found himself grimacing all over again, shriveling up his nose from the sight like it stung to keep looking directly for very long. “Jesus, who would do this?” Sparingly as his attention for the stranger may have been, Nathan nonetheless seemed willing to strike up another conversation with him. Whether it be one sided or not didn’t seem to matter, prattling on while clutching the coupon as evidence of his defiance. “‘Ya think it’s one of those serial killers who only kill ones they wanna’ wank off to? I saw a documentary about some sick bastard like that once.” Then with dawning realization, he whirled back around, waggling the paper into the other’s personal space, “If it’s down to the pretty lookin’ ones then I’m in trouble, man.” The hand that came up lifted a single digit, adding to it as he went on, “I mean, everyone knows the stupid or the good-lookin’ ones get offed first and--” He’d been gesturing with his arm wildly as he spoke, and chose now to bring the coupon closer for inspection, “..Say, the backside’s got a deal for a free pack of cupcakes--now, what are those?” What are cupcakes, the man is asking.

[mementovida]

heavenlybroken‌:

it wasn’t the first time rapunzel was made to deliver some coffee orders, but it was definitely the first time for this destination. a radio station. they didn’t even have radios back in her kingdom and now, this seem all quite like a whole new adventure. although she’s been in this place for weeks, it’s still quite unusual and the young woman was still getting used to a lot of things. finding her way around the place, she stopped in front of a door with an overlooking glass to see what’s happening inside. she was about to knock and go in, but they seemed to be busy saying something and with a red light on top of the door as well. she didn’t really know what that meant, but she opened the door quietly as she waited for them to notice her. as she was just about to say something, they were suddenly made aware of her presence. however, the accusation didn’t quite sit well with her as she shook her head in denial. “ i wasn’t watching you! ” insisted the girl as a small pout appeared on her lips. “ i’m just here to deliver some coffee and i didn’t know where to place them, ” she explained furthermore, holding two cup holders which contained four coffees each.

“ 𝐇𝐔𝐇.” A single syllable, nothing short of confused. For as long as Richie’s been here, which, granted, wasn’t very long, which seemed to be the case for various other people here--orders were usually dropped off at the front. Not that Richie exactly minded the mix-up, he could use the distraction. “Lemme’ guess, first time here?” Regardless, he conceded, “Sure. Just give me a sec’.” Fingers worked their magic, flipping a couple of switches before rising to full height to take in the room, rapidly coming to the conclusion there wasn’t a lot of table space here. Well, aside from a spot real close to wires and buttons. Sounded safe enough to him. Shoveling a couple of vintage records to the side, he cleared some wiggle room and only then realized the girl’s been forced to stand holding those damn trays this entire time. “Shit, here I could take one of those,” he offered before venturing into sarcastic territory, “All of those, which are definitely all for me. ‘Cause one look at me just screams ‘this guy looks like he needs more caffeine’.”

[mementovida]

thedefectives‌:

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 that a smart mouthed little four-eyes was bopping around town. Maybe it was a long shot, but that simple description gave Ben hope that he might have a familiar face around. Sure, maybe it wasn’t his favorite face, but it would help him get a grip on things. After all, how many Richie Toziers were there in the world. Especially those who were annoying enough to have a town muttering about them on the streets. Even walking down the linoleum lined halls of this building he could hear a familiar voice. He didn’t even need to lay eyes on the loser to know who exactly it was and there was a cascading waterfall of relief that washed over him. He wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not like [ b e f o r e ]. 

He stepped up to the doorway that was no doubt left open so that Richie could be extra obnoxious to everyone else in the building. It didn’t seem to have the intended affect on Benjamin, though. Instead he felt his lips tugging into a taunt smile, and maybe he got a little bit teary-eyed but could you blame the guy? He thought he was dropped in the middle of nowhere with nothing even remotely familiar. He was about to speak up too when Richie spotted him and sent them both into a moment of panic. After all, he wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction and it momentarily stopped Ben’s heart. 

     “Jesus, it’s me! It’s me, dude. Look,” he spoke up, stepping out of the dimly lit hallway so that the light in the room could help Richie recognize. Maybe he might not even recall him right away. He had continued to lose weight after they had all parted ways after high school. “It’s Ben.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 him in unbidden familiarity, though judging by the way Richie narrowed his eyes at the other through thick-rimmed specs, it all hadn’t quite sunk in yet. It’s not until he clarifies--until BEN clarifies, because yes, that was BEN, that recognition hit him like a fright-truck. The first thing that left his mouth was a tasteful,  “Holy shit.” Then with slightly different intonation, “Holy SHIT.” There doesn’t need to be a third go at the phrase for him to be on his feet, rushing up to wrap an arm around the other, ego be damned. Sure, he wasn’t exactly closest to Ben out of all the losers, but he was kind of hoping the other would overlook that part and humor him in what he feels to be a justified hug. Last thing he knew, they’d just went through the shit-show that’d been defeating Pennywise--and his stay at Hudson hadn’t remained peaceful for long. He saves face for the duration of the hug before deciding that was too much sentimental for one day, "Fuck, man,” he breathes out while pulling back to gesture toward the other’s body in an all-encompassing flourish, “Sorry I didn’t recognize the fucking Vogue magazine model in front of me,” unapologetic sarcasm as sharp as ever. The relief, comfort--whatever--he was feeling, was all entirely too short-lived, for a realization creeps up on him like the chill of a misty winter’s night. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing here?” Hearing himself sound as on edge as he did asking that, he shut his eyes, and restarted, “I mean, just..” he trailed off. As unwarranted as that had been, what was he supposed to say in his defense? Yeah, I kinda thought since it was just me I was in my own personal hellscape and it wasn’t related to that clown fucker, but now that reassurance has been blown to shit? His mind was racing so fast he hadn’t noticed when he’d lapsed into uncharacteristic silence. He hurried to rectify that, “What are any of us doing here? And I don’t mean that in a weird-existential crisis way.” Not yet satisfied, he found himself tacking on with a casual twang, “How’s your stay in Twilight Zone been?”

[mementovida]

{ joe keery, 21, male, he/him} Have you seen STEVE HARRINGTON from STRANGER THINGS walking around town? I guess they’re living up to their reputation of being DARING AND PROTECTIVE and DENSE AND COCKY, and they are an ARCADE WORKER. Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I’ve heard a rumor that THEY’RE SCARED OF NEVER BEING LOVED.

FILE:

FULL NAME: Steven ‘Steve” Harrington

AGE: 21

BIRTHDAY: July 30th

NATIONALITY: American

SEX: male

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: he/him

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual (mostly)

OCCUPATION: arcade worker

EYE COLOR: brown

HAIR COLOR: brown

HEIGHT: 5′11″

WEIGHT: 161 lbs.

BODY BUILD: lean

NOTABLE TRAITS: obnoxiously big hair

BEFORE HUDSON LAKE:

His childhood growing up in Hawkins, Indiana remains uneventful, aside from the fact both of his parents were very absent from his life. ‘Uneventful’--the same can’t be said about everything else about his life.

In high school, he was in his element, rapidly becoming the most popular student and accumulating like-minded bullies as his friends. It’s in the middle of his high school career that he became a reluctant party in being involved with defeating a supernatural being known as the demogorgon, something which will spark reoccurring havoc to his hometown. 

Some time after this first battle, he softens, loses the girl he loves, and subsequently but unrelated, his power in school. The latter being less of a failure but casualty of figuring out what really matters to him and who he wants to become as a person. He’s dethroned by his antithesis, a bully that was a compilation of everything he begun to change about himself. One might even say, this person was a more extreme version of every negative trait Steve used to possess, or a glimpse of who Steve could have become if he didn’t make the decisions he did in life. 

Steve became a familiar figure to one of the kids in Hawkins, not to say he didn’t grow fond of the rest of the gang being that he was labeled by himself as their ‘babysitter’. After infiltrating a Russian base, he accumulates an actual friend in Robin, the first friend he had made after having graduated and parted ways from his old friends who he no longer shared the same ideals with. He had just thought to be in the clear in terms of fearing for his life, when he is thrust into Hudson Lake.

NOW:

It’s safe to say this isn’t the oddest thing to happen to him, but nonetheless, this is definitely the first he’s had to deal with entirely on his own. He’s not exactly the brains of any operation, so he’s allowing himself to be a little worried about how things are going to turn out for him.

BONUS:

↳ BOLD WHAT APPLIES TO YOUR MUSE!

╳ FLAWS

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny

controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | lies

impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry

greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive

spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky

♔ STRENGTHS

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave

patient  | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky

intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous

merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming

cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm

[mementovida]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 #𝟏: 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘.

“𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑--” emphasis on each syllable of the word in exaggerated fashion. “Whoever this ‘killer’ is has zero amount of taste. Who hangs bodies from a statue like that? Can you say, 𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐘?” She firmly stabbed her fork into a slice of red velvet cake and clicked the remote, leaving behind a black TV screen which had been blaring a news report mere moments ago. Villanelle wasn’t jealous of the killer’s attention. She wasn’t. That’d be crazy. She found herself gravitating to the only desk here besides her vanity. Unlike her vanity, which was already cluttered with various high-end cosmetics, it remained unused, if not made any more obvious by the sleek table-top, not a speck of dust in sight. Nimble fingers lazily tug open the drawer, her expression illegible save for a faint twitch of her brow when she found a notebook waiting for her. A fleeting glance was spared to the quiet of her apartment before she plopped down into the seat and began in elegant script,

Eve, Is this the part where I apologize? Because I’m not sorry. There is some kind of murderer here, they’re not as good as me, obviously. If they were trying to frame me you’d know it wasn’t me, right? I think you would. Anyway.. I am guessing this is only a slight improvement from before--maybe this keeper-person has something to do with getting out of this stupid town. This is actually good for me because now I have something to do, find this person. I am not even thinking of you. Even a teeny bit.

Her pen hovers above the blank line for a pulse before going on to add,

I miss you--

A vice-like grip viciously tears the paper out before she could even dot her ‘i’, tossing the crumpled wad into the nearest bin and standing to glare daggers at it as though it’d wronged her. She snatched up a box of matches and lit one, watching it chase after the unsent letter that never stood a chance. The flicker of the flame was reflected in her watery stare.

[mementovida]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 #𝟏: 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘.

“ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊. Yeah, I think that sums it up. What else am I supposed to say? Sorry I didn’t write a eulogy for two people I didn’t know.” He wasn’t good with sentimental. Idly tap-tap-tapping on the wire of his microphone, he forced himself to continue, “But okay look, let’s hope this psycho--or whatever the fuck, gets caught before someone else is strung up like a pinata.” Very touching, Rich. When he started up again this time, he sounded further away than he actually was, “..You ever get the weirdest feeling of deja vu? Yeah, me neither.” 

He stared unseeingly at the mic in his recording room at the radio station. It wasn’t live, so he was essentially talking to himself. Was he losing it? Regardless, the silence hangs in the air for longer than he can keep track of, until the breaking point when he feels the emptiness of the booth grip his very frame, he haltingly continued,

 “.. I don’t think I’m ready to accept the fact I’m about to go through round numbero dos without.. well, alone this time.” The reality of it truly sinks in after he says it, a hand coming up to fix his glasses as more of nervous tick than necessity. It had to be a demon or something, right? What else would dump him in previously uncharted town with no way of escape? It couldn’t be IT though because.. well, why just him? Then he starts voicing his most intimate thoughts aloud further, “..But on second thought, I don’t think I’d wanna’ put any of the Losers through this shit again--whatever ‘this’ is.” That was the hundred dollar question. He can only hope they’re dealing with a regular killer--you could say he’d had enough of the supernatural to last him a lifetime.

[mementovida]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 #𝟏: 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘.

“𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐃 𝐘𝐀’ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 the chances are that this is all just a big prank and Ashton Kutcher’s comin’ out any minute now?” Judging by the lack of response, that didn’t take too well amidst the mass of people who’d just witnessed the bodies, but that didn’t stop him from barreling on, “..Jesus, why’s this kinda freak shit got to happen to me? I mean, I’m young and innocent!” a beat taken to rethink his phrasing and concede, “..Well, I’m 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆! That should count for something!”

The idle, and frankly, rather selfish, complaints hadn’t been made to anyone in particular. Though with unease seizing the pits of his stomach--it didn’t take long for Nathan to abscond the freakish crime scene and make his way back to the safety of his flat. His flat. It felt an odd thing to phrase when he’d been homeless just prior to what he was delegating as, the Twilight Zone thing, occurred. What had almost presented itself as a positive among all of this, had to be soured by their newly introduced town murderer. Not that that part was much too different from his actual life, actually. Unfortunately, this wasn’t his first run-in with a psychopath. One of the benefits, if one could call it that, to being Nathan Young, is that he seemed to have little sense of object-permanence, so despite all his trepidation, no sooner had he plopped into his bed that the ordeal was the furthest thing from mind. He eyed the empty notebook sitting on his desk, one which he definitely didn’t buy, and a single thought popped in: he could really go for a sausage roll right about now.

[mementovida]

thrillcrs‌:

THIS PIECE WASN’T exactly what noora wrote about, but her editor didn’t give her much of a choice on what she got to write about just yet. she was the newest journalist to the hudson lake paper so, she got the more minor pieces to do instead of the big main ones. although, her piece would kind of be part of the main piece so, in the end… it’s fine, right? all she had to do were gather a few people’s reactions to the two latest murders so it could be part of a side column about ‘the people and how they felt’.  so, her editor gave her a list of people to speak to so there was a slight variety and she had made her way over to the local radio station to speak to the host. however, when she got there, he was in the middle of announcing a new song and she couldn’t help, but raise a brow at the introduction. she stayed quiet for a few more moments and went to speak, but he beat her to it. “you’re just special,” noora replied, her thick norwegian accent overpowering her words. god, she really need to work on speaking english better. “i’m sorry. i’m from the paper and i was wondering if i could just ask you a few questions for the next article?”

“ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘?” incredulous but all the same justified because, why him? Here was where he would insert some snide comment about loving the appeal for an excuse to put off what he had left to do but; thanks but no thanks. And yet.. RIchie finds himself itching for something, anything to get his mind off things. Whether he wants to admit it to himself or not. Because despite having his old job back, he felt out of his comfort zone--as one would find themselves when thrust into an uncharted town with no hope of escaping any time soon. “You know what?” he resumed while raising both palms in concession, “sure. Why the hell not? As much as this’ll devastate my two listeners,” a sarcastic snort trailing the end of his comment. He flips a few switches that would inevitably place the radio station on loop to ‘What’s New Pussycat?’ by Tom Jones, before offering the girl his undivided attention. “Shoot. What kinda stuff is the paper looking for? Sorry to break it to you but I’m fresh out of sex scandals.”

[mementovida]

fracturedhvearts‌:

katniss was shaken to see the victims hanging from a statue for all the world to see. it was bringing her back to the arena in both games she was in, her stomach churning at the images in her mind. the only difference was that was for survival as sick as it was. who could do this? ‘’that’s the bright side?’’ she wanted to shake him for saying that. ‘’there is no bright side here actually.’’ she crossed her arms over her chest.

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, when confronted, Nathan had the gall to flick his sights down then up--unmistakably checking the girl out despite aforementioned bite that was sent his way. There was a lapse in thought before he realized that glare was still on him and he rushed to his defense, “There’s no need to get all testy! I was tryin’ to lighten the mood here.” Irish lilt wrapped up in a stubborn whine. Then as though hearing his own words said aloud offered a faint moment of clarity, he felt compelled to add, “’Sides, it’s not like you knew ‘em--” Wait. He felt himself wince inwardly, “..’Ya didn’t know ‘em, yeah?”

[mementovida]

lvstparty‌:

If Josie hated anything, it was being caught in the rain without an umbrella.  She didn’t know why she expected the forecast to be accurate, as they rarely were, but seeing how there was little to no chance of rain today, she didn’t even think to bring an umbrella.  Of course, it started pouring, and she ducked into the nearest shop as quickly as possible.  The unexpected voice from the back of the shop caused her to jump.  “Sorry!  I’m so sorry, I was just trying to get out of the rain for a little.  If you want me to leave, I totally can.”

𝐔𝐍𝐘𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐑 from outside, yet it hadn’t struck Villanelle what someone braving the weather might look like. That is until the girl’s fair voice had broken the peace and quiet of her store with the subsequent squeak of wet shoes on wooden flooring. It begged for a double-take, even going as far getting up from her spot, obnoxious dress she wore be damned. Faint judgment roamed over the other’s appearance, as though contemplating something, and Villanelle folded her arms over her chest. Masking her amusement, she puts on an air of a matter-of-fact, “If you are going to wait around, you have to at least try something on.”

[mementovida]

lvstparty‌:

Hannah’s breath was caught in her throat.  She hadn’t seen such carnage since that fateful Black Friday years ago, but now to see two bodies swaying, hanging from a statue for everyone to see, made her feel like she was a scared child again.  Webby was being unusually quiet, leaving her alone to stare at the bodies in horror.  “Guess not.”  She shook her head, clenching her jaw to avoid bursting into tears.  When he spoke again, she turned to look at him with a look of horror on her face.  “Really?  That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“ 𝐂'𝐌𝐎𝐍', it’s not like she’s usin’ it any time soon--!” He went to make a gesture towards the corpse with the coupon and when his line of sight found its way back to the horror show, he pursed his lips together in order to keep a nauseated feeling at bay. As though looking at the sun--in the very literal sense of the word, the way his expression twisted made it clear it similarly pained him to look at the scene for too long, struggling to watch while being compelled to look away. “Or could be his, coupon. Not tryin’ to be sexist or nothin’, guys do yoga, yeah?” Then a pause as though it dawned on him when he turned back to her, “Or--hang on, what if this is the psycho’s coupon? That’s like, a clue--! He takes a yoga class?“ While this may appear to be one of his digs at first glance, it was painstakingly a genuine effort on what he thinks was the cusp of a discovery.

[mementovida]

mxskcdrbn‌:

dick had seen a lot, done a lot of brutal things leading to brutal wounds but the display of bodies before him still had his stomach twisting. and what was even more unsettling was the so human look of the boy next to him just seeming too disgusted. dick was used to sights like this and he was starting to get the idea that this person too had his sight in the unnerving. “what the hell, shouldn’t they have this place taped off?” dick asked under his breath. “no one needs to see this.” he hadn’t even had his breakfast yet. he was planning on ignoring the stranger until he picked up the coupon. “that’s what you take as a positive? no, obviously he wasn’t joking about killing us.” he stated rolling his eyes. 

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 for a consecutive blink before slowly turning to face the stranger who has the attitude, as Nathan had preemptively determined; sizing the other up with a furious knit by his brow. “Oh, well alright then--!” The sarcasm is neatly packed in there, before his gaze narrowed. One could practically see the gears turning in his head as he concocts an idea with malicious intent. “So, what’s your deal anyway?” He ambled closer with a challenging ghost of a smile, “Why’s it you’re lookin’ like none of this even bothers you--if ‘ya ask me, that face practically spells 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘.” He gestured toward the other’s visage using the hand that contains the coupon, flimsy paper waggling into the other’s personal space while he looked around as though seeking approval around him. Now, Nathan was no Sherlock, in fact, forming a real accusation was the last thing on his mind. His purpose for the jab was what seems to be the usual reason behind Nathan Young opening his mouth: he sought to fuck with the other.

[mementovida]

thrillcrs‌:

FEAR STRUCK THROUGH the girl as she stared at the two limp bodies hang from the statue. at least she knew she wasn’t the only one sick in the head, wanting to see the bodies. she mainly wanted to see it for herself because maybe then she would believe that this was all real and not some sort of sick prank. but the blood still dripping down into the puddle below the awful smelling bodies confirmed it was definitely real. her gaze finally broke away from the bodies when the other person there spoke up and she let out a slight scoff. “what gave that away? the two dead as fuck bodies hanging from the statue?” sure, her humor had gotten darker since her sister had died, but she wouldn’t joke about this. she watched him walk closer to the statue and she made a face as he reached down to pick whatever the hell was on the ground up. “oh thank god for that,” she deadpanned.

“ 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐘!” No sooner had the word left his lips that he feels it creep up on him like sickly cold, one that he believed had less to do with the bodies in front of them. What was that? Nathan Young could feel guilt? He grimaced at his own word choice, going on to tack-on without missing another beat, "Look, I was only tryin’ to liven things up--!” Also not exactly compassionate. Holding up the limp coupon, he shook it so that the paper swayed in some kind of meek peace offering to her, believe it or not, “Don’t suppose you’d be wantin’ it? I’m not exactly a yoga man myself. More of a girl thing anyway, isn’t it?” It’s a proposition that was mostly not serious--neatly presented with a good twang of incidental light sexism.

[mementovida]

forgttcn‌:

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 done this? who would be so heartless as to kill and leave the bodies this way? she had gotten unused to the common cruelty that most humans could exhort on other humans. she was used to fighting against higher beings with a bigger plan that just happened to include killing. they were cruel because they needed to be, not because they wanted to be. she remembered pietro, vision, tony. they had died for a higher cause. these victims died for nothing. she hated this way of thinking. she snapped out of her thoughts when the guy spoke. “ seems real. ” she said, blinking rapidly. no trace of having shown emotion. wanda took yoga but she couldn’t get herself to even think of using that coupon. “ are you kidding? ”

“ 𝐍𝐎, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍' taking up a new hobby--!” Each word practically dripped with sarcasm. There was little bite despite it all, the annoyance that had mapped his features really taken down a notch thanks to the sinking feeling in the depths of his stomach. He could recognize the feeling more times than he’d care to admit, which was one for every once he had seen a dead body. Something tells him it shouldn’t be that high. His expression softens if only by a little when he went back for a second glance of the woman, taking in the fact that she was in fact a girl. Not that he hadn’t noticed before, but it is telling that he holds different treatment depending--for better or for worse. His shoulders sag through a defeated exhale, “Don’t think some meditatin’’s gonna’ be helpin’ anyone right now.” It was as he turned the paper around to the back that he stalled, brows jumping towards his hairline, “..But there’s a free breakfast grand slam on the back if you’re feelin’ hungry.“ The awful part is he’s only half-joking this time.