#guiiltyconscience

                       guiiltyconscience sent a ♠ for a moodboard for our muses.                           ❛we’re bros. we tell each other like, i don’t know, bro stuff. let’s talk about this hot blonde i talked to the other day, bro.                                                           but i don’t wanna just be your bro.

       ’ did she suffer ? it’s  worthless  if she didn’t. ‘

                         ❛ i'm fine. should've seen the other guy.❜ a small smile is a feeble attempt, but it could've easily been detected as a grimace due to the ever blossoming bruise underneath her right eye. ❛ remind me to not try and break up fights anymore. let the fuckers defend for themselves, really. and not go on dates with guys literally five times my size. that throw. wicked left punches. but ! i'm fine. i'm fine.❜  

                  send “flesh” for my muses reaction to your muse pushing them up against a wall and biting their neck.                                there's a vapid,  ongoing war within her mind; numbing the effects of the metaphorical light that dakota had consumed herself with whenever she's around him.  when you're a ghost of the darkness, enticing yourself of it's silhouette, you become drunk on whatever light you managed to find. maybe it's why she found herself liking him so much, or rather why she found herself so irritated by him in general. because she knows that consuming too much of that metaphorical light is something treacherous for her. it's something she isn't used to and it scared her. scared her, in the sense, that she didn't know what to do with the situation at hand. that she couldn't control it. that couldn't she control her emotions. it seemed that everything that she spend years practicing had faltered and crumbled in every way manageable whenever she found herself alone with him. someone that would forget about her when the darkness eventually drained out the daylight and dakota found herself at home again.                              it's why that she suddenly found the palms of her hands pressing against his torso, mustering up whatever strength she had to shove him off. her chest rose and fell, breath ragged and uneven, as she tried to squirm from his grip onto her waist. the fear had triumphed the desire that had formed at the pit of her stomach, and dakota nearly hated herself for it. she'd known that this wasn't going to happen again, not with his ego being as big as it seemed to be, not when she had rejected him once already. she turned to where her back faced him to mask the tears that had had stung in the corners of her eyes, and her mouth seemed to be far too dry to swallow down the lump that had begun to form inside her throat.    ❛ i ... i can't, ❜ her words are quiet and come a squeak. dakota's fingers found the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric around her index finger as a feeble attempt to stop them from shaking. dakota cleared her throat and closed her eyes before clarifying herself this time. ❛ i can't. there's ... others .... you could do this with. not me. i just ... i can't. ❜

         " okay . . . but your ARMS are literally almost          twice the size of my head ! "

i tried really hard couldn't u tell

[ dakota voice ] after knowing u i might as well be