Feb 9, 2016
@feelsmol
“Do you know how to dance? I wanna dance. C’mere. I wanna dance.”
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@feelsmol
“Do you know how to dance? I wanna dance. C’mere. I wanna dance.”
@feelsmol
"i was just trying to make you feel better."
@feelsmol
"i.. i just feel like something's wrong and you're not saying anything."
@feelsmol
“Noah, darling. Come here a minute? Wanna get your opinion on somethin’.”
@feelsmol.
there he stands, like a king — like a self-proclaimed god amidst his cowering subjects, or so he’d like to think — with every person who had the great misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, all lain flat on the floor at his feet. it shouldn’t please him so much to have them at his mercy, and yet, as he treads around the room, assault rifle strapped tightly to his back, he can’t help relishing how easily he and his cronies beat each and every one into submission, and without so much as laying a hand on the majority of them. the few that so unwisely thought themselves to be heroes are nothing more than lifeless corpses on the bloodstained bank floor, setting a nice example for the rest. it doesn’t bother him to kill those who stand in his way — it’s a necessary evil, or so he tells himself.
“c’mon, then—” his voice, commanding and impatient, echoes around the near-silent room as he walks, stepping over hands and feet and torsos, all belonging to civilians too frightened out of their wits to move from his path. aspen’s begun to grow irritated, annoyed with how long such a routine job has taken; they’re smarter than humans, and far more capable, so he’s sure it’s no issue of incompetence holding them here. more than likely, his accomplices have decided to loiter inside the vault, thinking themselves rather impressive for it. “stop FUCKIN’ AROUND. we should’ve been outta here ten minutes ago. i’ve got shit t’ do today that don’t involve this.”
@feelsmol
Angel liked Christmas, to an extent. It was good for business. But he didn’t like the religious affiliation, or the Church sermons (yes, he still went from time to time, despite how much it hurt). They all spoke of love and forgiveness during the holiday season, and yet Angel knew that many felt that was simply not the case. Still, he had a little extra money, and he was ever so excited to spend it on Noah. “Wh-what d-d-do y-you wa-want-t for, for Ch-Chris-stma-mas?”
@feelsmol
Michael doesn’t mind Noah curled up, sleeping next to him. In fact, he kind of likes the attention, even if the other seems to see him as nothing more than a friend. Granted, the smaller boy has so much more potential than just friend, but Mickey knows not to push his limits, let Noah take his time. Though, Noah seems to be holding back himself, seeing as the sleeping boy was now trying to grind against Michael, enjoying quite the dream.
"moana bennett wallace"
CALL MY MUSE BY THEIR FULL NAME AND SEE HOW THEY REACT!
❝ ——— I didn’t do anything, I swear,” Moana responded quickly, eyes widening at the sound of his middle name as he raised both his hands in surrender and looked into Noah’s eyes, “I promise you, my Peter Pan, please don’t be mad at me. Please.”