Jan 26, 2020
róisín, posting on the dash, just existing: me: wow i just think they’re neat.
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róisín, posting on the dash, just existing: me: wow i just think they’re neat.
* ⋆ @screwcool ✩
❝ NANCY. ❞ cornered in the kitchen upon her return. he’d been pacing back and forth in the kitchen, fidgeting in the doorway awaiting her arrival. he stares, skin moon - pale, eyes wide with fright. ❝ um — i need to talk to you. ❞ the chaos that riddled the wheeler home had long ago settled ; the leftovers of thanksgiving tucked in tupper - ware and stored in the fridge. the monstrous happenings of the days’ noon cycling through his mind, unable to slow the serpentine pathways of thought. ❝ — like right now ! ❞ he says urgently, voice hushed to something akin to a whisper.
the fact that róisín included both richie and my oc gray ( @shapetorn ) in her google doc fills my heart. i am full. i am thriving. i love her sm. thank u for existing in my life for all these years u precious angel.
i . * SCREWCOOL ( nancy wheeler )
“ chicago . ” please , the voice in her eyes say . one hand clutches the tweed fabric hanging off of her sister’s arm , the other a crumpled article clipping . CHICAGO POLICE INVESTIGATE CORNER MARKET ROBBERY . “ i want to go . ” / @screwcool
“ she’s pretty . is she your friend ? ”
/ * @screwcool
FLESH TURNS TO ROT, DEVOURED AND CONSUMED ; the earth will claim what was once her’s and all will end. it’s the constructed concepts of religion that amuse you, that thrills you - the deliverance of the soul at the end of a life time. how all human life believed simply that their end may be poetic, that it may end in the hands of a God that welcomes them with warmth at the pearly gates. there was nothing warm within you, no sense of welcoming that was anything close to peaceful. there was poetry in an ending. in the screaming, the longing - - the terror. there was a poetry that dripped from the brunette’s aura, an uncertainty, a confliction of right and wrong that you knew plagued her in any waking moment and especially in the growing silence before slumber took hold. you can’t help push cruel smile, eyes remain black pits - void of anything close to human. close to sincerity.
what’s gonna happen to them? there’s an innocence in the question, it aches - it burns. your insides churn, void entity craving substance to satisfy the craving. the need for chaos that lay waste to this borrowed body.
“ their guts will twist and i will rip the very essence from them. i will watch them plead their case as they turn into nothing at all. empty. every single human life becomes nothing - ” you pause, a slow blink, studying her face.
“ including yours. ” wrong. a soul such as hers burned empires, a soul that you had wished to save as your own - to keep and treasure. to consume. perhaps - you just would.
/ @screwcool from here
NERVES BUBBLE , STOMACH TIGHT ; still you curve a smile, still you nudge and laugh - it’s halloween. a night of fun. “ do you think there will be a lot of people there? ”
/ @screwcool
@screwcool
“ who let YOU in? “ She, the almighty, had once again come face-to-face with Nancy THE SLUT Wheeler. Her eyes NARROWED as they picked apart her opponent’s appearance, deeming her UNWORTHY of any sort of praise or recognition. Then again, PRAISE rarely came from Heather Chandler’s GLOSSED lips. “ I thought I sent your LAME ASS packing to LOSER ISLAND. “ she said, pointing a manicured finger towards the outskirts of the cafeteria “ You OBVIOUSLY have SHIT for brains. “