Top Posts Tagged with #𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 ... 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. | Tumlook (2024)

ㅤㅤit was late out, with the bright moon illuminating her fresh bruises whilst the cold night air nipped at them. an unwanted reminder of her existence. as if she needed one. but the pain helped to remind her that she was, in fact, alive. whether she wanted to be or not. she was stood on the balcony that overlooked the motels parking lot, her figure being arrhythmically lit up by the flickering light overhead as she bent over the railing a tad — half-lit cigarette dangling between coffin-shaped nails before she puffed it back to life.

ㅤㅤtight fitting skirt was hiked up enough to expose the still red cheeks of her plump ass, matching scars scattering the back of her thighs as she bent over the bannister when she spotted a familiar, and handsome, face. " hey, " smoke spilt from matte black lips as she spoke, whistling to get his attention regardless of the time. " cigarette boy. " or at least that's how she remembered him. a conversation and a smoke. she was terrible at names. " you feel like sharing tonight? i'm down to my last smoke. " a veiled way of asking for company. sometimes it was just nice to be with someone that wasn't paying.

closed starter for @egojock.

ㅤㅤ" oh, come on. " inky eyes twinkle with amusem*nt as she gazed up at them, bruised knuckles lifting to punch lightly at their shoulder with a tilt of her head. " don't tell me you're still bitter about high school. what happened to taking it on the chin? " slightly crooked teeth toy with her glossy and black lower lip, rocking back against her heeled boots as she twirled a raven lock of hair around her index finger. " i mean, i can take it on the chin. "

closed starter for @vicletnight / plot in source.

ㅤㅤ" hey. " smoke curled out from plump and burgundy painted lips, illuminated intermittently by the flickering orange street lamp that she was leant against. glowing embers fell to the ground as she tossed the cigarette to the ground, heeled boot stomping it out whilst stepping more into the makeshift spotlight when she saw him. she'd agreed to meet there, at the crossroads down the street from her motel, but she'd opted to ignore the painful metaphor.

ㅤㅤ" were you just gonna walk right past me? what — do i not look like my pictures or some sh*t? " she accused, as if she hadn't been a shadow hiding in the shadows. " maybe i should've worn less. " if such a thing was possible.

closed starter for @kookheir.

ㅤㅤ" you... don't like me very much, do you? " and yet she's smiling smugly nonetheless, twirling raven locks around a tattooed finger before untangling to prod at their chest. " that's never stopped anyone from f*cking me before. "

closed starter for @lovedevcured.

ㅤㅤsasha had been here for years. twenty-six for forty-four years, never to see twenty-seven, but always to just be. and she would be here for the rest of time, nothing more than a figure in the shadows, popping out intermittently at different parties from different decades to scare the partygoers, fascinated by how time passed. the fashion, the slang, the music. everything had changed. everything but her.

ㅤㅤhiding in the darkness came with its advantages. she saw everything. she could have kept herself to herself if she had wanted to. it wasn't like the house wasn't big enough for her to avoid living souls that roamed. except for during party season. that was when the house was littered with unavoidable trespassers. or when the police were scouring uselessly for evidence left in oliver's wake. it was then that she actually missed her isolation.

ㅤㅤagain — things had changed. the catton's had been ousted, and the house had grown quiet. and sasha had grown bored, restless, and reckless. she'd pondered over how she'd do this before; how she'd appear to him for the first time. it had to be special, right? memorable... but surely seeing a ghost dressed like a goth hooker from the 70's with an ugly stab wound buried between beautiful breasts would be enough for anyone to remember.

ㅤㅤshe found him where she usually found him. felix's room. it tended to be a hotspot for everyone but felix. heeled boots clicked against the flooring for the first time in years, wanting her presence to be felt as she walked up to linger a few steps behind him. " he doesn't use this room anymore. "

closed starter for @ourpretender.

ㅤㅤ" the f*ck, farleigh?! " wild, inky orbs are illuminated by the red and drug induced haze that filled them when she near snapped her neck whipping her head around to stare accusingly up at him. " i nearly f*cking blew it all off the f*cking table, dickhe*d. " sasha swatted his hand away, straightening up against the edge of the sofa and creating a painful distance between herself and the lines of ivory that called her name. " what— you want the first f*cking line or something? " well, it wasn't like she'd bought it. but that didn't stop her from trying to hog it.

@signetied sent ... farleigh places a hand on sasha to stop her from doing something ... from this list of prompts.

ㅤㅤ" why the f*ck don't you believe me? "

closed starter for @scarletsxnss.

ㅤㅤ" whose blood is that? "

closed starter for @1ststab.