was it blissful ? or downright a miserable attempt to soothe the hunger that came
with 3 random shots of whatever that was forced down his throat, &
half a bottle of smirnoff he deliberately swallowed down because a ) he’s out,
he might as well get drunk. b ) he has too much shit to deal with outside
this bar. & c ) he’s living his goddamn life. even if said goddamn life was
nothing more than poor choices, & a crippling fear of pressure. but that’s exactly
why the clear cut glass was dangling between his fingertips,
a reminder that even the most disgusting liquor could taste good if
one only chugged enough from it.
it doesn’t take him long before he’s sitting in a bathroom stall that faintly
reeked of vomit & even more poor life choices jackson had ever made.
his heart is set into a competition with the world, a bitterness
he inherited with his first breath. & so the dare that was bestowed
upon him would be fulfilled. it’s a matter of pride, after all.
so he eyes the pale bathroom door with hazy eyes, sockets
trying to nurse the dullness as he concentrated. but it’s color that
eventually wins him over. a red shaped kiss that
undoubtedly touched the bathroom door.
grimacing at the thought of it, he dials the number slowly.
a lulling experience as he hoped for the best.
░▐「 ☪ 」;;
dizziness swirls around her, the loud squeal of her cellphone
ricochets into her dreams, rips her from a slumber that has her still
half-asleep, dull, and thick with sleep. kate groans out loud, frustration
and uses a listless hand to scavenge the bedsheets for the wayward
cellular device. once she finally finds it, the screen nearly blinds her,
brilliant illumination in the dark room that makes her squint at an
unrecognizable number blinking upwards.
curiosity gets the better of her, and she hits the small talk button,
raising it to her ear. immediately kate is assaulted with muttering of
someone clearly drunk. she can almost smell the ripe lime-y tang of
tequila through the phone. a rumbling and thrum of music told her he
was probably at a club or some dirty bar, she giggled a little in spite
❝ you know, if you’re gonna call a stranger in the middle
of the night, the least you could do is speak english. ❞
I apologize for having not been on this blog lately I’ve just been thinking about how I’m gonna keep up with my indies etc. I’ve decided to narrow down to three blogs for now, I’m also working on an rpg with a friend of mine so I’ll do three indies & that. but anyways, tomorrow I will be on/focus solely on ivy.
my main blogs ;
my secondary/semi-active blogs ;
as for these blogs, do not think I’m dropping threads! I won’t be but I will be focusing on certain ones more and not taking on a bunch of new stuff unless you message me specifically/we discuss wanting to plot. (I am still going to be involved in group verses to).
I basically just won’t be on these blogs as much, I’ll probably just randomly get on to do certain replies. however that does mean replies might be slower (aside from group verse things which I’ll keep up with more) so if you’re not okay with waiting over a week for a reply feel free to unfollow.
back burner blog ;
- raven roth (I might end up making her a main instead of lucifer/male muse but haven’t decided yet, gonna wait and see who I feel most comfortable writing.)
Routine. She was so sick of living the same day seven times a week. Cook, clean, repeat. Dress to perfection, draped in silk and pearls, and always
—-above all else —-obey the man of the house. Her stubborn, poetic fool of a man. The rotten apple of her bored eye. Father of her children. Her high school sweetheart. Technically. She had fallen, hook, line, and sinker, her junior year ; convinced his gaze ruled the tides and his passion fuelled the sun, but he hadn’t been some boyish teenager with the world on the end of a string, he’d been her teacher.
Almost two decades later, she recalled the tale with cherry tinted cheeks and red, red lips. Murmured fantastic words like soul mate and kissed him every morning and every night as if he’d glittered the sky with the stars. He was none the wiser to the fact that she often found herself choking back bile in his presence, so much so that she’d become convinced that her heart no longer pumped blood, but acid. Slow working acid that threatened to corrode her insides with every touch. Every look. Every promise he made to provide the universe but instead gave dirt. Not dirt. Dust. Remnants of something
—-something important —-but it slipped through her grasp.
He was always slipping out of reach. Leaving, then returning. Every school term brought a new storm of a girl into his life. Someone firmer and tighter ; yet more delicate than she. Porcelain and steel, all at once. In sixteen years, she’d counted at least ten ignorant, foolish little girls, with the same electric passion that he’d drained from her.
The ugly truth: Ezra Fitz had always known exactly what he was doing.
❝ —- Charity events and their repetitive drivel. ❞
She murmured and turned to the woman seated beside her, a glass of Revana clutched between her manicured hands as she exchanged the necessary pleasantries. A law degree, and the most she could offer was polite small talk at large parties. Marriage was a leech.
❝ It’s always the same, isn’t it ? Some tanned, glamorous
airhead with bleached teeth ( & ) roots, out to save the world.
Doesn’t matter if she can’t pronounce the disease,
so long as she stands straight and sticks out her chest. ❞
To emphasize her point, she mimicked the pathetic stance of the dazzled blonde, her chest heaving from drunken laughter. Light and contagious, as if through chimes.
❝ It makes me want to start something.
Not a charity but something that brings people together. ❞
Spontaneous ; suggesting something so random to a practical stranger. If it garnered a strange glance, she’d simply shrug it off and blame the wine that flowed like rain. Excuse herself and make innocent heart eyes at her slouch of a husband.
Taking a sip of the alcohol for said show, she savored it in the back of her throat, swirling it like mouthwash in the hope that maybe, if she focused hard enough, it’d dissipate into poison and put an end to her boredom. If Jesus could turn water into wine, surely she could will it into something more fatal.
❝ Some kind of club, perhaps ? Knitting ?
Too Stepford wives ? ❞
░▐「 ☪ 」;;
6 Ways to Tell if Your Husband is Happy. The words gleamed up at her jarringly, accusatory. Is your husband happy, Kate? As if she knew. As if she cared. How Kate Argent had ended up in a marriage to Peter Hale she would never know for certain.
”Forgiveness" had come when they’d stabbed the nasty orchid that was their past. Cut it off at the stem and put it in a box, tucked it far far away, never addressed it. & they hadn’t, not a word had been spoken of it in their ten years of marriage. If you could call it that, Kate felt the more proper term was —- warfare. She didn’t love him. Wasn’t sure she ever had, watching the swill of deep red wine from the almost goblet-sized glass in hand, Kate was reminded of the beginning years. Awash with alcohol, booze, fancy travel locale, Peter could be very charming if he wanted to be, if he wanted something. For some reason he’d wanted her. Sometimes she wondered if it had all been part of his plan, marry her so he could torment her for the rest of her life with his silent brigade. Their bedroom was a battlefield, and every night a new assault was started in bed. Sex was an excellent weapon, Kate had always been better at wielding it than him, but id didn’t stop him from trying. So much so that they always walked away wrecked, bloodied and bruised sometimes, and the sad part was —- that was Kate’s favorite part of being with him.
There was a comfort in the way her muscles burned after he’d fucked her raw on ragged sheets, an amenity in the way her hair clung in sweaty clumps to the back of her scratched neck. He wasn’t without his own fair share of scars. A wax burn right above his right nipple from the time she’d used a candle —- I want to spice things up Peter, don’t be such a little boy. Taunting was the best way to get what you wanted from the likes of an arrogant, pretentious, strategist like Peter. Still she wasn’t happy. Kate didn’t know if she was capable of ecstasy that didn’t come from violence.
❝ Read this one, it’ll give you a laugh. Number 4, your husband might not be happy if he stops showing interest in your daily life. Try asking him about his life for a change, greet at the door when he gets home from work. — God, did this magazine come out in the fifties? I’ll never be the housewife that humps her vacuum during the day and slaves over a pot roast. I’d stab myself with my own porcelain meat thermometer if that was the case. ❞ She snorts, throwing the magazine back down on the table and taking a long drink from her glass, pursing her lips to savor the flavor before looking down and realizing she’d received a paper cut. Penance for neglecting her femininity perhaps.
❝ Dammit. ❞
Setting the glass on the table in front she suckled the bead of blood, turning to affix her gaze on the brunette. ❝ Brings people together? As long as there’s a no men allowed rule. I don’t care if we need to build a cheesy treehouse in the backyard. But we’re not 60 years old Aria, I’m not breaking out the knitting needles anytime soon. You want to start a club you go with something — fun, flirty, adventurous. Wine tasting or sex toy parties. Make everyone giggle and act like they don’t think of fucking themselves when they’re husbands roll off and snore within five minutes like the slobs they are. No, we need something……salacious. ❞
⊰ ➳ ⊱
the steady , yet perturbing whir of helicopter propellers was
still ingrained in her mind long after they alighted from the
vehicle. it was a peculiar thing to remain in her mind after the
thought-provoking trip , in which the glorified mockingjay may
or may not have to commit a sort of
district two , but perhaps the simplicity of her focus would help.
being a symbol of W A R could twist & turn & skew a person’s
mind in all the wrong ways.
gloved fingers that were not her own tucked a lock of dark hair
behind katniss’s ear ; a tender gesture. she didn’t need to turn
around to know it was gale , whose presence beside her was
familiar as an old song. on this district thirteen-owned craft ,
ghosting over the soon-to-be raided district , she could have
risked physical response to him without scrutinization. she didn’t.
his earlier words still rung in her head , along with the idle thought
of hers that accompanied them ;;
( t h i s i s o n e o f h i s d e a t h t r a p s . )
a stray glance was cast to the huntress’s side , where a woman who
called herself kate argent sat. while not particularly imposing in
appearance , there was something about her that katniss found
formidable. & untrustworthy. at this point , she was one of the most
important components of this attack , as kate was from two & knew
the place inside out & backwards. her intentions , however , were
unbeknownst to the mockingjay. she didn’t trust her , to be frank.
loyalty to one’s country wasn’t a popular theme as of late , but there
were always a few rulebreakers. this woman seemed suspiciously like
the sort. grayish eyes flitted away from the form & back again , before
she found the drive to speak.
❝ — — - - so … you’re a rebel now ? ❞
░▐「 ☪ 」;;
behind a dormant, blank gaze, kate was constantly thinking ahead,
scheming, mulling over her options. the days were becoming longer,
bleaker, full of devastation and death. it was impossible to hide from
it. they were living in the age of tumultuous change, their sense of
complacency challenged by chaos. the print of her thumb rubbed
the edge of the gun barrel held in her hand. security blanket, kate
was rarely seen without some piece of weaponry. not that odd
considering she was from district two.
sharp resonance of katniss’s voice lifted her from the dark reverie
she’d been amidst. violent eyes met equally savage ones from
across the short distance between them. katniss’s brutality was
just more silent than kate’s was.
❝ you could say that. I’m here aren’t I? ❞
did that mean anything? weren’t they all rebels at the end of the
day? unable to coalesce to what the capital wanted in one form
or another. even those that were pliant drones had hopes and
dreams not lofty enough to fit the capitol’s endless demands. at
the end of the day the rift that had cracked their volatile nation
apart had always been there, now they just nurtured it, from either
side, picked at it like an old scar.
❝ — something on your mind katniss? you might as
well spit it out, we’ve got work to do, probably best
not to have nasty little thoughts hanging over your
she speaks with zeal, like maybe she wants katniss to harvest
those thoughts, let them stew and nurture in her mind, unhinge
her. because who on earth would trust someone insane?
what was that? ❞
░▐「 ☪ 」;;
❝ —- you’re blocking the
cream & sugar, bucko. ❞
kate raises a wry brow & raises her hand, tilting
it to gesticulate the styrofoam coffee cup in hand.
just a note: it might seem like I’m sparse over the next week, or more depending on how long it takes me, but in reality I’m just being productive, saving all my replies/drafts/memes so I can queue them all up. I have 4 blogs and I’ll be working my way through each one, once I finish one I’ll queue everything for it and then move to the next one! so just be aware I’m not going to inactive and I apologize for slowness/inactivity, but hopefully after this I can stay on top of things much better!
also feel free to ask for my skype thats the best way to chat. and I will still be plotting/answering messages on every blog every day at the very least.
❝ i wonder j u s t how good i really am. ❞
► independent and selective dean winchester.
► main verse follows seasons 1-5.
► follows some personal headcanons.
► perfectly fine with OCs and other fandoms.
► multi-ship / multi-verse.
► 6+ years of experience.
► mun and muse are of age.
► paras | one liners | novellas accepted.
► mun is trash garbage i’m so sorry
► but hella friendly suP
► come plot with me hey
starter wise I owe miczariel & those wishlist starters. replies I owe, scottjustlisten, xlahuesera, everscreams, & theraspberryroom. hopefully I can get to those this weekend and memes because I owe a lot of old and new memes meep. night all <3 I’ll be on ivy & katherine tomorrow.