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@killxrblonde cont.
“There’s no such thing as heaven. Grow up. You’ll be poor forever thinking like that. Steal something worthwhile, like, jewelry, or, money or anything other than --- what was it? Gatorade? Now, you’re not smart enough to get away with it on your own, so you’ll need an accomplice. Not me. We’ll probably never speak again after this conversation.”
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@killxrblonde
“You aren’t happy being a waitress are you, tesora?”
“Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.”
‘i don’t sleep anyways. too many nightmares.’ he rolled over onto his side, looking at her through tired eyes. ‘thanks for the warning though, i don’t got much if you or any of them killed me anyways.’
ern: takes advantage of his friends’ destitution by making them do stupid shit and rewarding them with cheap food.
@killxrblonde
“This isn’t about how he feels, this is about what’s best for him.”
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👰 Would my muse ever get married?
If someone would have asked this a short while ago, I’d have very boldly denied that he would. He spent the better part of growing up talking about how he never wanted to settle down, and the like. However... he’s currently quite willing to marry his partner, Ezra. He even asked for it himself. Still quite shocked at that.
@killxrblonde || GOODNEIGHBOR
Goodneighbor’s not his preferred haunt, but he just didn’t have it in him to refuse Billy’s request for a pit-stop. Four days straight of walking clear across the Commonwealth had been harrowing, to say the least. Silas wanted to believe they were well used to it by now. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure they’d ever be, or that their longing for home would ever really dissipate.
The southerner doesn’t care to dwell on it too much as he sits at the counter inside the Third Rail, shoulders hunched low as he sips some swill they’re calling beer. Billy’s out of sight in the back room, hustling some poor saps out of their hard earned caps with those pretty blue eyes of his, his sleeves stuffed full of aces. It’s a small relief to be left alone. Nobody here gives a damn where they’ve come from, or what they've done outside the city walls. There’s no blood on his hands here. He could almost get used to it.
“Gimmie another one a’ these,” he beckons to the Mr. Handy behind the bar, sliding over his emptied bottle. His eyes wander boredly around the pub as waits for his second drink, brow quirking at the sight of some leggy blonde eyeing him from across the way.
“An’ keep ‘em comin’.”
⌚ how long do they need to decide what to wear in the morning?
Marcie has like................dozens of outfits........ ready for any occasion... for any mood....... she spends like....... hours and hours a week. You know how in Clueless, Cher uses her computer to make an outfit??? Marcie does the exact same shit, both on a computer and keeps a binder full of every single thing she owns and what it is compatible with. THIS IS NOT A FUCKING GAME, OK?
