there ain't nothing i can't do with a gun!

⠀ @starteachings.bsky.social ⠀

♡ to read an excerpt of farah's diary.

/ aggh wait i miss this high school event

under his scrutinizing eyes will gives a sliver of teeth. he's banking on the fella not thinking too hard. certified he ain't ; but there's no doubt a bit of tactical bullshit can't squash. "few hours," he answers vaguely. "i'll tow yer car to my garage."

/ will as a kid 😞

it hurt . it hurt like hell . but it didn't matter 、 if no one knew . if everything could go on as before . . . it did hurt . but it didn't matter .

"then don't be in debt," will says, adopting that easy air exclusively reserved for whenever he wants to make a sale. desperate times call for friendly measures. "get the money back to me soon as you can 'n it'll be like nothin happened."

at least curse me a little at the very end.

"peachy. he'll charge a towing fee 'n put enough pins for it to hold for a coupla months, then when yer gal breaks down you'll be left upstream without an oar ta paddle with." hand comes to rest on the counter. "you don't strike me as the stupid sort."

hearing skittering paws, he closes the door behind him. dark eyes shine at the end of the hall. he pets the mutt as he passes by, following his voice to the kitchen. ⠀"bad news is yer cylinder head's busted," will says, taking an absent sniff.

( taking in the manic canvas farah's wearing. his lips purse around a low impressed whistle. ) fuuuuckin hell. ya look like you could be one uv those paintings by that famous cunt. y'know, the one who threw some paint on a canvas 'n called it a day.

some people turn sad awfully young. they bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer.

/ phone is broken and it makes writing so hard 💔

/ oomf and i have already plotted our characters' breakup, get together, marriage, kids and untimely deaths and meanwhile they've hardly even met

slow day at work, i'm assuming.

there's paint on her face. a red smudge on her cheek, some purple on her chin. is that blue by her forehead?

; al summoned me, as per usual

/ will is a twin brother to @fitzroytwin.bsky.social but while aubree the writer is absent i have her permission to write him when he pops up in will interactions ❤️ they spend a lot of time together. when she isn't here, just assume walton is alternating between messing around and being out of town

his dark eyes narrow into slits. no need to argue shite. if he had the good fortune of being one of the carefree twats living around here, will would bet she'd have bored of him and buggered off by now. he knows it cause he lives with the damn

These writers keep writing what they write. 「 #MVRP #SDVRP #OpenRP No Minors Allowed Literate & Detailed 」

/ searching the mvrp tag is so dangerous bc why is most of it PORN

minutes later bootsteps thud up the back. he gives the door a rap with his knuckles. a nail scratches the paint on the porch rail as he waits, flakes rubbed betwixt thumb and forefinger. forget the car. this whole bleedin 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 needs some work.

huh. he wasn't aware fairies took house calls. will waits for him to leave then takes a pair of gloves tucked into the back of his belt, unscrewing the oil cap to see the clouded insides. what he sees makes him click his tongue. best to poke around.

⠀ shifting his jaw, irritated. does this guy reckon it'll only take a jiff? "despite my good looks 'n pleasing demeanour, i ain't yer fairy godmother," he grumbles, but he steps over the barbed wire and comes close for a gander, pointed stake in hand. ⠀

/ Sam and Walt, I miss you 💔

⠀ ⠀⠀ @fitzroytwin.bsky.social ⠀

/ really need to reorganize and edit for my threads here i have like 3 relationships to add

⠀ for the up-teenth effing time, will wishes they skipped past this town. he pretends to give the question some thought. "that's a hard one. lemme think . . crikey, it's gotta be years now." shirt pulled over his head, he keeps talking as he starts on ⠀

⠀ pretty as she is she looks wholly out of place, a fleck of polish on an otherwise rusted knife ; ramshackle fitzroy house standing ( just barely ), the shadows cast over it giving it a grim, tired feel to match one of its occupants. tit for tat, ⠀

⠀ where does that emo cunt get his smokes, anyway? ⠀

⠀ boot heel grinding the butt of his cigarette into the ground. he's runnin low . . better start rationing til next visit to the big city. ⠀

inside me, something seethes.

/ HI GANG or what's left of it as stardew verse reawakens for the 1000th time ,,, im not likely to return to sam since ive written him for so long. i'll keep the account in case i want to write him again tho 🙏 just pretend he's on tour or at war or something. or just doing sam things

you're just a boy. you are no man. and nobody you know will understand.

/ placeholder because editing on a busted phone is impossible

⠀𝒃eesting ╱ @pollenkeep.bsky.social

⠀ rest assured will can see her, so there's no need to—— honk. well, whatever. he stops stooping over the current car's bonnet, drags over a grimy rag to wipe even more grease off on it. ⠀

⠀ glancing at the car, hood popped with the engine smoking. looks bad. ⠀

⠀ who says i ain't? still got a coupla good years left. ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ / @pollenkeep.bsky.social ⠀

You have never loved anything that needed you.

⠀ imagine being unmarried at 35 ⠀

⠀ imagine being 35 ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ @fitzroytwin.bsky.social ⠀