#intrcvenous

        It was too hot for her liking. She enjoyed summer, she really did, but there were those certain days when she wished it was autumn; those specific days when the weather was extremely warm. Woohee felt like dying. Pretty sure, if the couch, where she was laying on, was made of leather, her skin would be sticking to it and that just would have made her even more uncomfortable. Eyes on the male, she rolled on the couch once more before getting up, stretching her back by moving her hands on the lower part of it and bending her body just slightly. She couldn't handle it anymore. The dancer needed something to do and she knew exactly what would make her entertained.

he thinks they're like deep sea fish – pupilless bead eyes and needle teeth, picking through the bones of their companions, slurping up rotting, salt-soaked flesh. cannibalistic scavengers, waiting with an apt air of opportunity.  be still, be quiet. there's nothing but your own company to eat.  

his snarl looks like a smile. kinam's tongue presses eagerly against the backs of his teeth, white phosphorus. he wants to sear every line of his letters, bite every curl into greyson's skin like a printing press. "it'd be a shame for something to happen to that pretty face." sink a big O into greyson's adam apple and grip him by the throat. kinam’s arms unfurl at his sides, fingers splayed and palms towards the ceiling. ( coy, small boy playing tough and everybody is pretending to be scared, but all he wants to do is cave; go into the woods and beg for the big, bad wolf to fuck him up. ) his knuckles are smoldering and split with dried blood. he is a cold thing and those are hard to love, so he chooses to be hated, passion melting welts into the tundra of his skin. 

[ ... ]

but that’s the fun of it all, gambling with life and death and even fate. he’s never really thought it through. the possibility for a sabbat to discover him or what would immediately happen if a camarilla was around, but the sabbat would see potential or not, the camrailla would exterminate at the spot; unless deemed fit and this is part of the society that confuses him the most. he remembers what his godfather said to him, the reasons why he became an antitribu. he shakes his head, feeling like he’s slipping from reality again and ghosting into the past, overthinking of this and that for no apparent reason, but at least it’s not setting off his mood. he hops onto a ladder of a train before his head turns to peer to where jaehyuk may be. he laughs then and grins knowingly as he climbs onto the top and settles there, waiting for the latter to join him. as he waits, he leans back with palms pressed against the cold surface of the rusty train. he closes his eyes, letting the breeze of the night brush through his light brown locks and tickle against his skin before blue hues flickering open and settle on the nightsky. “tellin’ me to stop bein’ an asshole is like tellin’ me to stop livin’. what, jace, you can’t handle me bein’ an asshole anymore?”

Deep Ass Starters

accepting :: @intrcvenous 

it stung, the repeated question asked after he make such statement as if he was testing his little pride. ezra purses his lips eyes up over the night sky as he stays in silence for a while unable to give the right answer to the question thrown back at him. was he still hoping? if he gave up on hope, wouldn't the word hope be out of his very mind. those thoughts crosses his mind bothering him.

THis is thE Aim stTATus alL over agAIn

acts of affection ( x )

✪  Rubbing their back after a stressful day or disappointment. 

usually she never cried.

not in front of him, not in front of the picture of her mother, even with her dog she tried to hide it (though he knew best and would try to comfort her with a head butt to her thigh if she was sitting down. maybe laying in her lap would also help.) this time, she ended up at grey’s place with tears already running down her face. it had been piling up since the beginning of the day where some asshole decided to run his motorcycle through some puddles and get her outfit stained with dirty water. she yelled at him, chased after him and then stopped midway when she realized it wasn’t worth it. she was already late to meet her mentor, so she had to shoot him a text which would probably piss him off but she needed to change clothes. she didn’t feel as confident as she did when she first walked out the door.

then it continued with someone spilling coffee on her dress, another time she had to change but didn’t have time to. she went to her mentor’s house to pick up the goods, he didn’t talk to her.. still. he was still giving her the cold shoulder so she decided to do the same and just continue making profit from what they were doing. she got piss-faced at the club and someone tried to drug her, nothing out of line. she was used to it, but why did it seem like there was some kind of weight put upon her shoulders after that day?