#kiingsnake

[stinkystarboy]

look at my fucking baby aheem heem

look at his fucking baby!!!

[dxsole]

👜 SEEING RED | @kiingsnake | Cont. from X

"As a third-party observer," Waylon starts, finger held up in the air, the other hand grabbing a handful of mints from the hostess' stand and stuffing them into his pocket. "I don't think it's right you're kicking the lady out."

She was in no way a lady, Waylon knew that. She was, as far as he could tell, a menace. But pretty in a...woman who was raised by sewer rats kind of way. And he had been hoping to score—

Not in the bedroom way. Or even in the drug way, for once. No, he was out here on the streets looking for something more precious than gold; information.

Waylon hadn't breathed in that sickly, polluted smog of New York in months. His editor told him to take a vacation and cool off after his latest tabloid job, and, of course, the only place he could think of going to on his vacation was back home.

And being back home reminded him of the sort of journalism he used to do be he was forcibly transferred to LA— forcibly transferred was also a good way of explaining what was happening to poor old Molly right now.

"Aw, c'mon, let the lady get her purse— don't you know a woman's life is in her purse?" He's trying to smooth things over, sparking himself his fourth cigarette of the evening. "It's bad enough you shook her up— y'know if I was still a reporter in this town I would've put you right on the cover of the Post. And then someone wittier than me would make a pun about bouncing and blondes—" Oh, there's a second bouncer? Or maybe just another surly patron that had enough of Molly's screeching and Waylon's chattering.

Regardless of who was who, Waylon is being gripped by his shirt collar and moved right along in the same direction as Molly— oh, this guy had her purse. Okay, we're making progress—

Waylon is sent literally flying through the air, losing his dark shades and what remains of his dignity in the process.

[shesboundtobye]

( @kiingsnake, continued from X )

Lou wasn't exactly sure what she fucking expected, but she was along for the ride, however insane and chaotic it was, because girls stick together. Or whatever. She and Molly... they stuck together, or were stuck together, she wasn't sure anymore, but it didn't really matter.

Her gut full of enough booze to kill a man twice her size, head buzzing, Lou clung to Molly's word and then laughed as she grabbed her, made her confession, admission, or whatever it was.

"Mol, Jesus..." Another chuckle and she grabbed both her friend's hands. "I know. You've got my back, you've always had my back since day one. If I'm fucked, I've always known I can come to you." Maybe she was missing something. "But I've got it. Why you think I carry a knife on me at all times? It ain't for show."