❝ piles of uneaten candy will signal im dead ❞ / wesley
she nods faux thoughtfully, grabbing a Twizzler. had he bought an entire factory? “fine, but tha’ licorice’s all mine. everything with bubblegum, too.”
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❝ piles of uneaten candy will signal im dead ❞ / wesley
she nods faux thoughtfully, grabbing a Twizzler. had he bought an entire factory? “fine, but tha’ licorice’s all mine. everything with bubblegum, too.”
❝ only the good die young? phew good thing that i am so incredibly awful ❞ / W E S L EY
she smiles when he speaks; not because she’s in on the joke, but because the joke is bad. and it bothers her in a way that she couldn’t put into words if she tried. she has no idea what he does when she’s not there to watch, but she knows that no matter what it is, there is no one who is worse than her. what a typical mean girl. “oh, but then how willya’ leavea’ pretty corpse?”
@wrotemurder’s Wesley
it’s a signed photo of her with her medals at the Olympics, in a red glitter-shedding frame stolen from Wal-Mart. “happy holidays.”
@wrotemurder - wes
she shoves past him. was she invited to the party? no. has that ever stopped her from doing anything? also no! “nice house.”
@killreagan
-- is she about to convince a stranger to buy her, or share their, pizza? absolutely. she slides into the first table with a teenage boy she sees. “y’know, I always heard tha’ ricotta here sucked, but I guess we’ll see.”
“that’s nota’ good look.”