#omensdread

Grab a marker and write something on my muse! ( Anywhere over my muse's body. ) | Accepting

@omensdread sent: ❛ Oh, I was just wondering. ❛

    ❛   —It's nice,  isn't it?  ❛   Madonna asks with a slow-forming smile drawing at the corners of her wine-red mouth.  Her hands,  glimmering with stone rings and silver,  move through the heavy weight of her hair  —flouncing it,  so she might smell the bruised violets infused with the locks,  smoke and myrrh.  Upturned nose breathes in the musky fragrance,  before she sighs,  reaches into her carpet bag  —a glass vial is procured,  filled with a thick amber,  dried petals,  among other things.  She reveals it to Zehra.  

continued from here

 𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐧  𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝  𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚.  it's  pretty  clear  his  body  is  covered  in  intricate  designs, and  she's  more  than  happy  to  incorporate  her  own  work.  ❝i  think  it'll  look  great.❞  she  responds,  offering  a  smile  before  carefully  reaching  out  for  the  paper  with  his  design.   she  snaps  a  picture  and  begins  working  on  her  ipad.  she  cleans  up  the  lines  slightly  while  paying  careful  attention,  assuring  she  keeps  the  integrity  of  his  art.

 finishing  off,  she  slips  on  a  pair  of  black  gloves.  digging  her  feet  into  the  floor,  she  wheels  her  chair  closer.  ❝i'm  just  going  to  prep  the  area,   then  we'll  have  a  look  at  the  design  before  i  finish  the  stencil  and  make  sure  it's  what  you  want.❞   she  says,  her  voice  steady  and  reassuring,  even  though  he's  clearly  used  to  the  process  of  tattooing,  she'll  always  verbalize  her  actions  beforehand.  she  reaches  for  a  razor  and  carefully  shaves  away  any  hair,  then  cleanses  the  area,   taking  her  time  to  assure  any  potential  bacteria  or  oils  are  removed.

 slipping  the  gloves  off,  she  moves  back  to  her  table  again,  this  time  holding  the  tablet  in  front  of  him.  ❝i  cleaned  it  up  just  a  little  bit,  but  I  need  your  approval  before  we  go  further,  of  course.❞

wipe that look off your face . / bucky

Brow furrows at the words the other gave, not entirely sure why he needed to correct how he was looking. In Andrei's opinion it was just his default expression. It wasn't friendly, that much he knew, and he didn't want it to be. Andrei wasn't here to be friends, even if he only really knew the older Romanian and his brother. So with arms crossed as he sits back, he looks the other over with the same expression before with added furrowed brows. "Why?" He questions. "This is just my face." A partial lie, he was capable of relaxing his features but only when he felt himself comfortable around those he trusted. And despite knowing the one in front of him and his brother who was off somewhere else in the building, he didn't trust everyone. "I don't see a reason why I have to appear friendly. You don't." He was unmoving, stubborn as he often was. "Besides, I don't like being here. My brother asked me so I am here. That is all." He wasn't here to make friends, he never was.

Familiar, faint blue specks of dawn barely touching the edges of the sky speckled her view from the window. Simultaneously, a coffee cup warmed her hands, a relatively small comfort against the unrest that never quite left her. The house was silent except for the soft creak of the floorboards. Then, a sudden SLAM of the door shattered said fragile calm. She practically jumped in her seat, heart tightening. Strange. For a split second, her mind raced. Was it Suhara? Her father figure? After all, he was (more often than not) the man who often appeared in her darkest hours bearing heavy burdens no one else dared speak aloud…because isn’t that always how the late-night/early-morning news comes? Cold, unwanted, dragging heavy shadows in its wake.

there's the barest of flinches at frank's unexpected touch. mel's not noticed the leaf that's settled itself on her shoulder. she supposes she shouldn't be surprised, not with the trees that stand so tall overhead as they sit in the park. her lips twitch upwards, fingers flexing around the soda can in her hands, there's a soft crinkling sound of aluminium bending under her touch.