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Today's Document
Mike Driver
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
we're not kids anymore.
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Claire Keane
will byers stan first human second
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@velvetippedarch
bex ( she / her ) , twenty - five , lesbian , united kingdom.
private & selective multimuse blog. features both original & canon characters within a realm of different fandoms & genres such as red dead redemption, resident evil village, ashes to ashes , killing eve , kill bill & many more.
* MUSES !
I’VE MADE A NEW BLOG! please follow me at @velvetipped
reminder that i’ve moved blogs! same username but had a bit of a refresh!!
I’VE MADE A NEW BLOG! please follow me at @velvetipped
I think I might remake my blog and come back to write but keep it to my ocs (and probably lady dimitrescu) so that I can come out of this constant overwhelm I feel with writing and having so many muses. But in the MEANTIME, have this cute picture of my two babies staying warm together in this horrible British winter 🥰🥰🥰
I think I might remake my blog and come back to write but keep it to my ocs (and probably lady dinitrescu) so that I can come out of this constant overwhelm I feel with writing and having so many muses. But in the MEANTIME, have this cute picture of my two babies staying warm together in this horrible British winter 🥰🥰🥰
screenviolense
‘ i’ve been baking non-stop, that’s why it smells so good in here. ‘ her sister was in town, excited to come do some shopping in the city and when the prescott sisters got together, they baked. most private investigators couldn’t claim to have their offices smell so distinctly of cinnamon and pumpkin where she held tins of cookies and muffins when her upstairs apartment ran out of room. ‘ please, take what you want. i don’t want it to go to waste. ‘
“It’s making me feel all shades of autumnal.” The cinnamon and pumpkin smells delightful, she can’t deny that. And when food is offered to her? She won’t ever refuse (perhaps it’s the polite British mannerisms she’s been brought up to have - or perhaps it’s due to the fact that her schedule is so busy and her lunch breaks are near-on nonexistent. ) “Thanks, love.” She makes a move to grab one of the muffins, not at all too shy to peel back the wrapper and sink her teeth into it. And once she’s taken the first bite, she nods in appreciation and lets out a mumbled. “God, these are good. People would pay good money for one of these. I had a muffin at a Starbucks the other week and it was stale and cost about $7. This is much better than that.”
alyafae !
ophelia listens while absentmindedly picking on the petals of the flower she had been carrying up until now. while she cannot say she has felt this same struggle before, she does have an idea of what it means like to struggle with something similar. “ i don’t think anyone is destined to be just one thing. maybe, ” she hums, head tilted to the side as her gaze drops a little, “ maybe you were meant to be mean for a while but … i think you can change. it’s not hard to be nice, not when you think about how you want to be treated. ” naive, maybe, but how can she expect people to be good to her when she doesn’t return the favor. in her mind, it makes perfect sense. “ if you want to be nice, you will be nice. i’m optimistic! ”
“You make it sound so easy to ‘change’.’” She sounds a little skeptical. “But I don’t know what made me like this in the first place. I didn’t ask to be bad.” ‘Bad’ being an understatement (especially if you were to tally up every single person who had lost their life to her.) “You seem nice.” It’s a genuine compliment, despite the way that it’s delivered. There’s no airiness to Villanelle’s tone - it’s rather deadpan, she’s tired. “What’s it like to be nice? To be optimistic?” She wants some insight from somebody who may be experienced. “What’s it like to feel … happy?” It’s now that a brow raises. “Because being nice seems to bring most people some sort of happiness, right? That’s what all the movies make us believe. The bad guys are miserable and the nice guys are living some sort of heaven.”
@suresaint, continued from here.
“ Hmm . . . “ She hums at the other’s reply, nodding to show that she understands. “ I suppose you’re right.” One might say that Alexandra had lived a rather sheltered life ; not a naive one, she’d be first to tell you - but sheltered in the sense that, whilst she understood there were many unsavoury characters who wandered the land, meeting them has never been something that has cropped up yet (well, until today.) Hence the branch in her hand, acting as the ‘sword’ she so recently mentioned.
When her injury becomes a topic of conversation, she finally winces. She was well aware of the cut that adorned her skin, but it was only now that attention was drawn upon it that it started to hurt. A lot. “I’m fine.” She lies, and what a blatant lie it is. “It’s merely a scratch.” And so, the lies keep coming. “ And I’m not yet sure whether you’re ‘scary’ or not. Appearance wise, no.” If she were to meet the other woman in a dark alley, it isn’t fear she’d experience. “But you could be anybody. Especially out here with your lit fire and your . . . ” She gestures around her, believing that best describes what she’s trying to say without actually using words. Still, she decides to discard the branch, flinging it to the ground beside her.
“Before you ask, I’m not sure how it happened.” For once, the truth. “I think something might have grabbed hold of me but it happened too quickly for my head to process it.” She’s heard stories - tales of those who wander out of town one day, only to meet their maker after crossing paths with something unpleasant. She just thanks god that story wasn’t about her. At least, wishful thinking hopes that it’s not.
“I think I may need to lie down.” For the dizziness has started to take over a little, the more she now looks at the blood on her arm. “Right here.” There’s not a single civilized thought going through her head as she lowers to her knees a mere few inches away from the other. “It’s rather starting to hurt now. I don’t even know where I am, not completely. But maybe if I just rest my head? I think my arm may fall off.” Dramatic, it might be - but she’s growing ever paler with each second that passes.
contrecoeurs !
It was quite difficult to meet new people nowadays. Back in the old days, when Bette was in her twenties, you only had to hit clubs. She rarely came back home on her own. But now ? With her past reputation as mayor runner, she couldn’t just act carelessly - she did and it burnt her, causing damage to her daughter too. Now that she was back in the Arts, she also didn’t want to involve work and relationships, it never ever ended up well.
Angie had suggested to try one of those modern applications to meet new people for romances. Actually she already set up a profile for Bette, and found a perfect match a priori. So she was now waiting for someone she had no idea what they looked like and chosen by her own daughter. She really had faith in her. Though, she was slightly stressed out in this moment, her hands sweating and she had to dry them on the towel aside her empty plate. Were they late? Would they even come? Angie had certified her that she would, so she only had to be patient.
dating sites have never taken her interest. call her old fashioned, but the way she meets people is usually in-person ; at a bar, a social event, through a friend of a friend. the idea of going onto some app and meeting ‘the one’ feels insincere - put perhaps that’s down to her age and the fact that she doesn’t have a reliance on her cell phone that some of the younger generation have. and yet she was still persuaded by her best friend lizzy to sign up to one of these things and put herself out there because, in her friends words, “ ya ain’t gettin’ any younger birdie an’ ya too good t’ be goin’ to waste.” so low and behold, she joined one and ended up matching with a woman she can’t help but think may be way too out of her league.
she’d worked a whole day shift at her bar prior to the date ; hence the fact that she was running a little behind schedule. she’d had time to spruce herself up - took a shower, ran a brush through her hair (and surprisingly, it ended up looking decent!) and dressed herself in one of her best shirts, a pair of high-waisted jeans and favourite brown boots. and when she was convinced she was dressed up to a certain standard, she threw on her leather jacket and her helmet and flung herself onto the seat of her motorbike, most likely breaking the speed limits on her journey due to her consciousness of how late she was probably going to be.
when she parks up, she gives herself a pep talk “ya’ might be gettin’ older, bridgette - but ya still got a lot of fire in ya yet.” and with a deep breath and helmet in hand, she makes her way into the restaurant that had been decided for this date. when inside, she takes a second to glance around the room although it’s proven to be a failure when she struggles to locate bette so she gives in and asks the waiter for the table number under their names and when it’s pointed out to her she nods, thanks him, and walks over to the table in question.
“hey!” it comes out chirpier than she means for it to. “y’must be bette. m’ birdie.” her smile is genuine albeit a little nervous. she’s trying her hardest not to be (dates don’t usually make her so nervous!) but the fear of the unknown seems to be kicking in a little bit. “i ‘gotta apologise for m’ lateness. i’ve been workin’ all day an’ things got a little busy down at m’ club so i had a few loose ends to tie up before this evenin’.” she pauses then, just to let out a little laugh. “does this feel as strange for you as it does for me? i ‘aint ever been on what is essentially a blind date before. i ‘aint complainin’, m’ just … well, i won’t sugar-coat it, m’ a little nervous.”
STARTER CALL , @ezerkenegdc !
“ what took you so long? “ she’d heard gunfire close to here - something rare, considering that she lives in the middle of nowhere. she tends not to venture outside too much - it seems unsavory, to get caught in the middle of all of the chaos. but she wonders, quite often, how long it’ll take for the rabble to break down her security and try their luck by looting her home. “ did you see anything close by? - i think somebody may have been shot just west of here. i was almost tempted to go out and see for myself ; see if i could find something to feed on - somebody helpless - but it seems you came just at the right time. “ she watches the other woman with a stare - blinks very far and few between. “ i do hope you come bearing gifts, dear. “
STARTER CALL , @ragearia !
“ i know this music ‘aint for everyone. “ her regulars had requested madonna and it seems the DJ had taken that to the next level and played about five consecutive songs in a row - and even birdie can say enough is enough after hearing la isla bonita for the third time tonight. “ what d’ya like, hm? i can go an’ get him t’ play somethin’ that might put a smile on that face, huh? an’ a drink - y’ want another one of those t’get ya’ goin’? “
i missed u so bad
DAYUMMMMM GIRL you just kno i missed you too!!!!! <33333
STARTER CALL , @alyafae !
“ i’m not sure i know how to be ‘nice’ “ she uses her fingers to gesture quotation makes when she says the latter word, brow raising as she slumps back into her chair. “ i have never been nice. “ and if one was to look close enough, they’d notice the slight glimmer in her eye as she says that - a sadness, you could say. a loss for something that has never been there. “ do you think that it’s something that you can learn? or am i destined to be mean and shitty forever? “
STARTER CALL , @therelentless !
“ i wasn’t informed that i was to expect guests so late this evening. “ there’s something rather dark in the tone that she uses ; not quite a growl but a low purr that, at any moment, could certainly become a hiss ( almost as if she was some sort of pissed of feline. ) “ now i might ask again - and only once more, what can i help you with? “ visitors without warning do make her awfully uncomfortable and the impatience is becoming rather obvious with the way that she holds herself. “ and do make it a good excuse. i can’t bare to have a single minute of my time wasted. “
starter call !
me to myself when i write one thing every three weeks : you did good, buddy. well done.
featuring , @caspercut
she’s talked with her therapist about this: there is no use in dwelling on the past, tatum. the present is what it is, and you have to make the most of it. this pill is difficult to swallow, however, when it’s not her choices that have led her to this present, but someone else’s fanatical, fucked up sense of justice.
“all the people in my life that have been obsessed with revenge have turned out to be freaks … i don’t wanna go down that road.” dark eyes pan away, as if she sees billy, sees his mother, sees roman bridger.
they’re all different and yet they’re all the same: all “owed” their due and all of them willing to shed copious amounts of blood to get it. “i have to focus on me.”
i listen to her and i can’t help but raise a brow. freak? maybe i am a freak ; or maybe, just maybe, i did what any normal person would after going through life with a husband who looked for his thrills elsewhere. “ there is no road to go down. if somebody hurts you, you deserve to teach them a lesson. i don’t think it’s this naturally progression down some road of being unhinged. you get hurt, you hurt back. “ it makes sense to me, at least. “ as women, we’ve been conditioned into thinking that we should let people - especially men - walk all over us. to grin and bear it, to consider ourselves objects that they can use until they grow bored. don’t feed into that too much. ”
but she’s young, isn’t she? - impressionable, even if she doesn’t think that she is. i remember when i was her age ; i wanted to be happy, i didn’t want to believe that in my life somebody would hurt me to an immeasurable degree. “ you’re right about that though. you do have to focus on yourself. that is the most important thing that you have to keep a really tight hold of.”