#sellsout

another  fuckin’  lucky  break,   that’s  all  this  is.     another  somewhere  he  shouldn’t  be,   another  night  he’s  determined  not  to  waste.     he’s  a  better  ass-kisser  than  he  is  manager,   he  has  the  awareness  to  know,   and  if  all  he  can  do  is  pull  off  getting  an  invitation  he  doesn’t  deserve,   he’ll  take  it  proudly.     tonight’s  arena  of  choice  is  a  party  still  beating  on  into  the  late  hours.      he  doesn’t  belong  here,   but  he  looks  the  part,   and  that’s  all  that  counts  these  days.     feels  like  old  times,   when  he  still  had  a  ring  ‘round  his  finger  and  an  actress  worth  showing  off.     now  he’s  a  lone  wolf  on  the  prowl,   chatting  here,   drinking  there,   and  wondering  who  he  can  rope  into  snorting  blow  with  him  in  some  room  near  the  back.     lucky  break     :     a  familiar  face,   even  if  it’s  not  the  friendliest.     seems  off,   seeing  him  in  a  territory  more  georgie’s  and  less  jack’s  for  a  change.     jack  flips  him  a  nod  in  greeting,   slyness  of  his  smile  highlighted.          ❝     almost  didn't  recognize  you  without  a  sociopath  attached  to  your  side.     ❞          not  the  kindest  icebreaker,   but  the  most  truthful  thing  jack  can  come  up  with.     taste  of  mara  lingers  on  his  mouth,   sitting  there  with  patient  venom.     he  sips  from  his  bottle  of  beer  to  wash  it  away.          ❝     here's  to  getting  away  from  her  for  a  night.     ❞

appreciate’s not the word she’d use.          few things irk her more than a complete non-reaction,   even if it’s out of apparently newfound politeness.          maybe it’d be a nice change of pace,   not being thrown over someone’s shoulder at first glance,   but the courtesy coming from him of all people rubs her the wrong way.          she narrows her eyes at him,   and for a second looks like there’s a lot on her mind     (     there isn’t.          nothing out of the ordinary,   anyway.     ).          ❝     well...   you know i block out an hour a day to stare out my window and sip wine in lingerie,   so this is really your fault.     ❞          a dry joke    ;    in truth her afternoon so far’s been spent trying on what she’d ordered a drunk night one week ago and lounging on the couch between sets.          caught in such a position,   she’d found no point in an outfit change when she learned it was him knocking at her door     —     she’s an opportunist when she wants to be.          palms find their place in the divots of her hips,   motion guided by a sudden need to defend herself.          ❝     since when are you a gentleman,   anyway?     ❞

it’s VERY cringe. super hard to plot with too bc she never replies to me on discord 

confession into silence,     mara stares off into the blank space as if she can see the words dissipating into nothing.          palm splayed along his bare chest,   head laying there too,   for a beat she resumes a familiar motion     :     her fingers curl along his skin,   affection seemingly spurred on by his vulnerability     —     sudden,   but she understands the need.          it’s ripping off bandages one by one,   or something like it.          the sting will lessen the next time they dare to broach a subject this intimate,   a subject to scare them both,   but if she has faith in the process     (     in him     ),     it’ll be worth the shock of newness.               ❝     me too.     ❞               sounds inadequate,   just those words.          uncharacteristically,   she wants to spare a moment to piece together speech in her head     (     is he owed that?     so soon?     )     ;     more characteristically,   her mouth beats her to the punch.               ❝     i hate doing anything alone.          everything gets so quiet,   and boring,   and empty.          makes my fucking skin crawl.     ❞               head turns,   slants upward to get a better look at him.          she blinks.          tries to ignore her heart picking up speed when his eyes are softer than she’d expected them to be,   then fills the quiet before he can.               ❝     i don’t have to go if you don’t want me to,   georgie.          i got nowhere to be.     ❞

vague tweets for @sellsout

@sellsout​     ♡    ‘   ed     

one of us makes department store music, the other has a sex tape listed on imdb with a 3.7/5 star rating. you tell me who the nobody is.

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