Sweet Seals For You, Always
Keni
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Xuebing Du
blake kathryn
if i look back, i am lost
pixel skylines
Mike Driver
ojovivo
KIROKAZE
No title available
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
🪼
⁂
No title available
occasionally subtle
No title available
hello vonnie
art blog(derogatory)
AnasAbdin
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from Netherlands
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seen from United States
seen from Bosnia & Herzegovina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from T1
seen from France
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seen from Morocco
seen from United States
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seen from Brazil
@petiteballerina
YOUNG WILD AMERICAN lookin’ to be something; out of school go-go'n for a hundred or two. some asshole broke me in; wrecked all my INNOCENCE. i’ll just keep go-go'n & this dance is on you. one, five, ten, lay a million on me before the end of this song … c'mon baby, do you have a girlfriend? rain on me a million, i’m not flawless but i got a DIAMOND HEART !
selective & private original character inspired by the album JOANNE. est. dec 2016 & revamped feb 2020. promo credit.
youngupir;
shaking hands bleed into the plane of his chest while the girl cries further. she is a stuttering mess before the monster — he can feel the warm splatters running off of plump cheeks and onto cold skin. the voice coils around his ears, soft and light, enough to send him reeling with the words of desperation; fleetingly, they lift the veil of hunger to replace volatility with a second thought. roman’s vulpine smile dissolves into a stunted purse of lips with beaded cherry syrup pooling at the corners of his mouth.
he looks at her wholly, brows cinching together while searching for features in the dim light. eyes screwed shut in fright allowed for kohl liner to swirl into pale cheeks while the upir slinks away, leaving the carcass of the eighteen year old boy to make an unsettling emotional connection to the meal he almost claimed. blunt fingertips dig into the bones of her shoulders, bodies standing flush together in order for roman to glimpse at the soul beneath. for a second, he almost hears the jagged breaths that left brooke bluebell’s lips before the vargulf, ruthless and unmerciful beast, had torn her apart. he engages in the thought that the monster that consumed him was much like the beast he sought to kill alongside the person he had called a friend —- the actions would become one if he chose to drain the girl completely.
“you’re sick?” it’s almost in disbelief, guilt suddenly pooling in the parts between a bloodthirsty mind; it hurts more than the hunger. he can see clearly, the way fear is instilled within the cowering stranger —- she was no longer a meal but now a human standing at the maw of a formidable parasite within him. roman’s joints unclenched with lethargic splendor, his carnal stare interrupted with a burst of morality. “it’s inevitable,” he musters out, visibly recoiling from her presence though agile frame could cage her back in at any moment, “your death is inevitable. i could make it so quick, so easy. you don’t have to live your life out in pain anymore.”
a shallow breath escaped from the back of the dancers throat as she felt the sharpened blades of his teeth lessen, replaced with the throbbing sting of the fresh puncture wounds produced from the attack. could her own desperation been enough to save her? as much as she wanted to have faith that her own words were able to spare her such a tragic fate she knew deep down in her very core that she didn’t stand much chance against a MONSTER. she didn’t dare move an inch as the silence became overwhelming, heart beating so fast it was the only sound she could hear pounding in her ears.
part of her assumed his actions in moving away was part of his trick, a cruel method for him to drag out the inevitable, but what was said next shocked the desperate woman. head nodded powerlessly in confirmation that she was, in fact, sick. and yet she REFUSED to shoot a glance towards her attacker, green hues choosing to focus on the not as fortunate male beside her, wanting to focus on something—ANYTHING—but roman. that was only further proof of her naive nature; wanting to believe that if she didn’t look him in the eyes that she still had a chance of getting out of this situation alive even if she did see his face back inside the club. with distance now between the two of them, her mind wanders to that of an escape plan, short-lived as his curt statement snapped her out of her anguished thoughts.
stubborn in nature, charlie fought against the motion of death being easier than living; that much had been clear from her feeble attempts at BEGGING moments prior. but that didn’t mean that roman was wrong. in the blink of an eye her world came crashing down, snapped back into the harsh reality of living with her illness. a world without pain seemed almost unimaginable. her mind began to wander towards what it would be like not to feel, false images of the unborn child she so desperately had longed for assaulting her mind— she could finally meet her in the clouds, reunite with her FATHER, and above all be reunited with her ONE TRUE LOVE.
“do it.” a change in tone from her previous begging not even minutes ago, there’s no sign of FEAR to be found on her face as the two simple words were said. with the memory of her loved ones in the forefront of her mind, charlie finally turns to lock her eyes with his for the first time, breath nearly taken away at the FAMILIARITY of roman’s face. she took that as a sign that axel was waiting in the clouds with savanna. a sense of calmness washed over her petite frame, misplaced smile growing on her face as she spoke, her stutter nowhere to be found. “just go ahead and DO IT. i’m ready.”
acidicvomit:
axel found himself floating in pink-tinged bliss, inked arms wrapped around bright latex while lips were locked quite tightly against the blonde’s. the basis of the mission was lost in the translation of the kiss and the welfare of the rest of the x-force fell right to the bottom of responsibilities; axel zeitgeist couldn’t give two fucks about the rest of the scooby gang, not while he was about to embark on his own mission just to see how far they could push their limits. an effort to bring his companion closer was cut short, wrist twisted while a shriek broke apart their brazen lip-lock. upon instinct, axel’s expression simpered as he tried to calm the pink force before him.
“can you blame the guy? i mean, goddamn. you really know how to get me going.” the neon guard dug into a smattering of scruff, shifted upwards until the rest of the world was blocked off from acidic spew. “if you really wanted to go kick some ass, you wouldn’t have snuck up here with me. so live a little, baby !”
green hues stared at the fellow mutant as the neon guard rested back into place upon his chin. she refused to respond to such a childish comment, the smirk returning to her own features. charlie may not have been the smartest in school but that didn’t mean she didn’t know the effect her actions had on the vulgar mutant; a genius didn’t need to solve that mystery. her left hand remained gripped onto his as she kept her silent streak going, contemplating whether or not the two of them would have an extra time for some funny business— after all, the convoy wouldn’t wait for their asses to board forever. one of them needed to be responsible.
“live a little? i see you putting up your mask but i don’t see you putting up a fight to live a little, z-zei– axel!” the grip on his wrist began to loosen, almost as if she was testing him, before she let it go completely. could the convoy leave without their leader? charlie stood on the tips of her toes to hover near the green guard, an eyebrow shooting up in curiosity. “you know... we might– we might have to install a zipper or somethin’ sooner or later. think they’ll leave without us?”
We gotta hold on, ready or not You live for the fight when that’s all that you’ve got Whoa, we’re halfway there
youngupir:
@petiteballerina said : ❛ please , just let me go , i won’t tell anyone … i promise . ❜
the other body was discarded behind him, planes of porcelain skin covered sparingly with sequins and feathers that laid limp and unmoving as the blood began to curdle around the fatal opening. roman was too far focused on the immense feeling of satiation in his stomach, white noise lessening in the shell of his ears as somehow, he began to feel normal while mania dissipated in the swell of the night air. but there was another cowering at the throat of the alley, a frame much smaller than the one he had just finished off. one could say he was saving her for last, but in reality, order didn’t matter. the chant inside his head hadn’t stopped since he had stepped into the club. he was ridding the earth of people no one would miss; the homeless, the addicts, the sluts selling their bodies in exchange for cash. the blonde fit into the latter category, almost tearing apart the sleeve of his blazer as she started to beg for it. the plump pout that was covered in a sheen of liquid sex had curled into a beckoning kiss, although roman was quick enough to catch the hesitance in her eyes. tough luck, he had told himself, her demise would not be a pretty little accident.
his jacketed form cornered the woman, long arms caging her in, flattened nose dragging against the pulse point heightened in the presence of fear. the warmth of a tongue sought the sweetness of skin as it was not long before roman began to suck, wanting this final meal to be savoured on his palate. he waited until he could feel the manic pull bringing him forth into his method of darkness, impulses taking the reigns as a canine sunk lower, prodding at the tender flesh until enamel popped through the long plane of skin. a sanguine bead engorged at the small opening and was swiped up by a flick of warm muscle while the upir set to appease his appetite, but her words cut through the deafened sequence before he could allow himself to snap. his rubied pout, tainted with a taste of her livelihood, was unable to perceive the pain he was going to inflict on the cowering girl trapped between his arms. the wound was his only source of interest while it remained open and pulsating with the nectar he so craved; the hunger swept forth like a wildfire ablaze in every pocket and vein.
“keep going ——– i want to hear you beg.”
she’d missed her opportunity to escape the unforgiving wrath of the monster lurking in the shadows of the night. an attempt to make a run for it while he was distracted with the man, a victim of circumstance, would have been the wise decision but yet charlie was stuck frozen in place; the fear within reaching from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. no one wanted to sell themselves for a quick fuck. a victim of unfortunate circumstances herself, desperate times called for desperate measures. selling her body when the idea of sex turned her stomach to the point of it entering a third dimension wasn’t best of ideas but it was the only one she had. unable to make the straightforward getaway while the chance remained, her green hues became blurred as the memories of her previous tormentor came flooding back into the forefront of her mind. she couldn’t distinguish which one was worse— the feeling of helplessness as his stained red lips came crashing against her neck, or the fact that he reminded her of HIM. from the moment she’d left him in the dust she’d been walking around like an aimless zombie, wondering when the next medical bill was going to be the final blow of weight to crush her for good. she not only lived in fear of her own health causing the fatal blow, but if it was going to be at the hands of him coming back into her life. was life worth living if fear prevented you from truly living?
as her hands lifted to press against his chest in a feeble attempt to stop his actions, charlie got the answer she’d been asking herself for months: she wanted to live. “please, i– i’m not–” her words cut off as his sharpened teeth sank lower into the nape of her neck, the lingering pain of the wound proving to her that this was not what she wanted no matter how much she’d wished for the sweet release of her mental torture day-in-day-out. one hand remained against his chest as the other snaked its way around his arms at each side of her frame in an attempt to pull his hair, scratch him, anything to make him stop. a break from the pain as he spoke, wanting more than anything to not appease him with his desires of begging. she knew he wasn’t interested in her life story, that it was all part of his sick and twisted game of cat and mouse, but she once again found herself in a situation where she had no choice but to oblige with his request. and so she mustered enough up courage to speak, or rather, fight for her LIFE.
“please, i never.... you w-were— you were the first and— listen, i–i was just trying to SURVIVE and pay hospital bills because i’m... i’m sick and—” her eyes shut, voice solemn as she spoke the words she never thought possible. “i don’t want to die.”
acidicvomit:
starter for @petiteballerina !
blood soaks the left side of his face, teeth spattering out flecks of the syrupy gunk as he urges to be set free. the nurses are no help to calm him, face screwing up in protest as lungs swell with more fighting power and the scent of sanitized products leave him growing lightheaded ( or maybe it’s the severe concussion he’s just undergone ). limbs buckle, now under restraints as the sight in green is now bubbling with red anger — the staff thoroughly certain that he’s about to suffer from an aneurysm with the mulberry shade that’s colouring his sunken cheeks. he’s ZEITGEIST, for christ’s sake. one teensy miscalculated landing and he’s admitted to the emergency room with the klutzes of the world. axel was on a mission and there was no way in hell he was going to let wade down.
“ you better close your eyes, blondie. i’m gonna hurl ! ” brows knit as he decides to gain sympathy through the patient to his right, green eyes illuminating with an encouraging glimmer. he had to get someone on his side. girls were squeamish and definitely not spared when it came to his mutant abilities; a shiver down his spine enforced a grimace as he was reminded of an incident including a girlfriend and a healthy spray of flesh-burning UPCHUCK.
“ tell ‘em i look alright. don’t i? i’m ALRIGHT, motherfuckers. things like this happen when you’re trying to save the fuckin’ world from a b-grade robocop ! ”
the woman’s face contorted in obvious pain the moment she inadvertently moved in such a subtle way that disagreed with her dislocated shoulder. she’d been here plenty of times before for the same exact issue, and yet, she couldn’t remember not to move. the only way she could describe the feeling was shards of glass underneath her skin in spite of the pain medication that had been administered and the sling hung around her arm. normally she would put the joint back in place herself, but this time her body had other plans— and like most hospitals, the understaffed building was evident by the amount of waiting she’d been doing behind the patterned curtains.
clenching the blue emisis bag with her good hand— the pain medicine always making her nauseous — charlie was beginning to get frustrated. not with the fact that she had to wait, or the fact that she felt like every part of her was falling apart all at once, but the fact that some asshole was screaming his head off beside her; the nurses not even wanting to deal with the combative nature of the man struggling to break free. she tried her damnedest to ignore his ramblings, but it was in her nature to immediately get concerned, green hues immediately turning towards his at the mention of getting sick. as if she was going to turn away and ignore him!
“do... do you— want my bag?” without a second thought charlie hopped down from the hospital bed to walk the few feet that separated them, one good arm extending in an attempt to hand him the bag that he clearly needed more than her, at least by his own accord. and yet she simply stared at him, the complete opposite of what he’d told her to do with his warning. “but you– you just said that you were going to puke! yelling isn’t gonna make them come over and release you any faster.” her hand is still holding out the bag, eyes narrowed.
@acidicvomit gets a starter !
"hey, hey! watch where your hands are, mister!” a warning—er, a screech—came from the elongated mouth of the blonde. make out sessions on the rooftop of the garage axel worked at part time had become the norm for the two mutants; the mutual bond over their not so normal abilities drawing them close. even so, charlie preferred to keep him at arms length— literally. frame pushed against the ladder with her arms around his neck, charlie made the purposeful decision of using her powers to stretch out her arms to be able to reach the hand that she felt creep up on her backside. what kind of woman would she be if she let him get into her pants, or lack thereof, that easily? “—you remember what happened the last time we came up here! we only stopped the guy ‘cause you ripped my suit and the guy was too distracted!”
selective & indie roleplay blog for MICHAEL MICKEY SULLIVAN from the upcoming film VILLAINS. est. june 2019. ©
irishbxstard:
@petiteballerina
[text: sugar baby] If you’re still using his number let me know. I’m back in town. I want to see you
[text: kidnapper] We’re sorry. You have reached a number that is disconnected or that is no longer in service. [text: kidnapper] i’m just messing with you. you might want to look up if there’s premeditation charges for kidnapping this time.
flash your tits
....what tits?
@shawshankkid gets a starter for AXEL.
known for her artistic skills and flexibility on the stage, alongside her choreographed routines, charlie was a force to be reckoned with. while stripping might not have been her first career choice, it still gave her the opportunity to not only get her bills paid, but to also fill the void in her heart that would have been left wide open if she hadn’t had the chance to perform. that was one part of charlie that was never going to change. her body spun around the pole, contorting into elegant poses in rhythm with the music. she couldn’t have felt more ethereal, a true performer at heart in midst of all the grime within the walls. like most performers, charlie knew that eye contact with the audience was the key to winning them over, or at least make them want more. at first she’d spotted him from across the room near the end of her routine. she locked eyes with his, a smile tugging at each corner of her mouth, just as the music came to a halt. bingo.
charlie stepped off the stage as the next performer took the stage, eyes glancing around the crowd. even if she didn’t necessarily like private dances, in fact, she hated them more than anything – it was still a necessary evil to survive. pushing that thought to the far corner of her mind, she made her way over to the gentleman she’d noticed on the stage, a semi-forced smile on her face. “can i get you somethin? a drink, maybe?” come on, charlie. sell. “perhaps a dance?”
Ew, @renastere, no.
Warmest regards,
The Tumbeasts
keep on moving ‘til the first rays of dawn all along , i keep singing my s o n g christopher haas . semi - selective O C literate . 10 + yrs exp . mun & muse 21 +
it’s that time of the year again
ARCHETYPE QUIZ .
35% Caregiver
Friendly, sincere, and compassionate, the Caregiver finds their reward in helping others. No one could ask for a better best friend.
35% Performer
Taking center stage comes naturally to the Performer, whether at the water cooler or in front of an audience. They are magnetic and know how to inspire.
30% Creative
The Creative appreciates all beautiful things, in art and daily life. The creative act is essential to who they are.
tagged by: no one tagging: @renastere @dantvra @mcneyhoney @yunhuntress @lipsdrew @mementomorri
amementomorri;
she let out a small snicker, satisfied with the fact she could still annoy charlie with ease. chewing on a piece of licorice, morri made a disgusted face. “thanks–didn’t need that mental image.” morri was friends with a number of exoctic dancers, and she was always ready to throw hands to protect them. what usually started out as an infatuation with a beautiful stranger, usually ended in a pretty solid friendship–like with charlie. “well, if someone tries to lay a hand on you again, i can guarantee there’s gonna be some excitement.” she joked.
while it was pretty obvious morrigan was an unusual woman, she always had an excuse for her eccentricities. how could she throw a man halfway across the room without any effort? ju-jitsu. or karate. or mma. why didn’t she like the sunlight? skin condition. or night owl. or crippling fear of skin cancer.
morri pulled out another piece of candy and handed it to charlie, sighing. “i’m sure i’ll find some trouble to get into. not like it’s hard.” which, probably wasn’t a good thing.
her gaze fell down onto the licorice that morri handed her, staring at the red strand of candy as if it was something completely foreign to her. she’d never been the type of person to indulge in sweets without a care in the world— as much as she craved the sweeter things in life, charlie typically stuck with naturally sweet items. fruits had always been her favorite. too focused on staring at the candy to even notice the look of disgust on morri’s face at her lap dance comment, she snickered, knowing full well the type of expression that must have been on her face. charlie had the same expression many times before when recounting her shifts at the strip club.
“did i ruin dinner for you with that mental image?” charlie raised her head as she spoke, focus moving away from the piece of candy towards the other woman sitting across from her in the room. it wouldn’t have been charlie without finishing off her question without a smart ass remark. she grinned, “—doesn’t seem like it, though, on the account of you still eating that licorice like it’s going out of style.”
as those words left her mouth, charlie snickered. “well, yeah...” she trailed off with her words if only to take a bite out of the candy that she’d previously been inspecting. “you literally just got done telling me your cryptic threats about there being excitement if someone touched me. you– well, come on. trouble’s pretty much your middle name.”
