Jan 16, 2020
@winistre.
“ i think that was a laugh. “
seen from Kazakhstan
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@winistre.
“ i think that was a laugh. “
@winistre liked ( x ).
georgie jogs to catch up with her once she’s seen. briefly out of breath, it doesn’t show in the way she beams, happy to recognize someone. “ -- hey, bonnie, right? “
@winistre / dialogue prompts
watching bonnie try to navigate the dress, donna begins to think she may have gone overboard with the ribbons. it’s like her to get carried away. no sequins, at least, have made it onto the final design. she steps a little closer, bows her head, ‘ it looks like you’re in trouble, there. can i help? ’
"do you want me to go in with you?" alex,
the place on dalhousie.
‘ … no. ’ then, again, a little firmer, ‘ no. ’
it’s not bonnie’s problem, and she’s not about to share it around. she straightens her back and lifts her shoulders, like she’s psyching herself up. alex is tired of pulling everyone into messes she makes, letting them watch her while she scrambles and drowns. despite it being exhausting just to witness, it’s fucking embarrassing to be watched. so, no. she cracks the joints in her fingers, one by one, idly, eyes dead ahead, like she doesn’t even realise she’s doing it. ‘ just — we’ll get a drink after. ’
"let’s just please talk for a while." , julie ,
i don’t remember what meme this was
‘ you can talk. ’ julie sniffs, a little jittery, not sure what to do with her hands or her too-long limbs or the rest of herself. she doesn’t look well. rarely does, if you look at her long enough. it’s easier to keep a girl like julie in the peripheral whenever you have to deal with her - the closest most get is passing her on the street, slouched low inside her too-big jacket, closed off from the world. she’s changed so much in the years between then and now, so much that she wonders if bonnie even recognises her, if she could possibly.
how can she still love her, if she’s not her sister anymore. not really. doesn’t feel like she’s earned a spot like that back for herself, yet.
there’s a smile, little more than an upward flick at the corner of her mouth. no teeth, no real happiness, but she’s trying. ‘ i’m listening. i just - ’ a roll of her shoulders, brushing it off, ‘ - don’t know what to say. ’
she chews at the insides of her cheeks - would go back to biting her nails if bonnie weren’t watching. ‘ we… could watch tv. sit together. for a while. ’
"i don’t know what would be gained by telling it." alex or.. . jack..
the book of the unnamed midwife / accepting.
‘ yeah. ’ she keeps her head low, chin tucked to her chest, searching for a mangled reflection of her own face in the muddy brown cup of tea bonnie’s brought her. there isn’t much to see, besides the way the liquid ripples because of her shaking hands. it’s too hot, scolds when she presses her palm to the porcelain and moves away from the handle. stings, comes away red. at least her skin - her body - reacts the way it should, she thinks.
‘ you’re right. ’ always are - usually are. she dips a ginger snap biscuit into the tea and watches it break in half, has to fish it out quickly before it crumbles entirely and turns to goop, making the tea undrinkable. ‘ guess we’ll just - keep it. where it is. just us. ’
winistre replied to your post: winistre replied to your post: ...
tegan rights
tegan deserves no rights. they eat people...they’ve murdered a few people...they can’t parallel park...
winistre replied to your post: tegan is like beetlejuice, but less funny and...
YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN.