#profligcte

[lunarcries-blog1]

Mistletoe

Rafael Adler. Cunning fox.Oh how lucky she was to have managed to snag him this night, stuck at some obnoxious winter gala on a job. Keep up some soft conversation, flirt to try and keep his attention so she could keep some kind of a low profile.As much as she hated dressing up, she couldn't help but find herself glancing into her reflection as they passed by, at least she looked good. Thigh high slit in the dress, heels, makeup. Dressed to kill.

He made good company to say the least, better ally than enemy. Glancing at her watch, nearly time to bail. Striding along beside him, Sarah settled her hand to his chest to halt him in the archway. Better to make it short and sweet. As if the evening couldn't get more cliché, she found herself cringing at the mistletoe over head. Better than nothing. Tapping his jaw to draw his attention to the plant above him before bending down to pull him into a kiss. A tad rougher than intended, enough to leave a smear of lipstick against his lips, at least she could leave a mark.Dragging a thumb below her lip to clean the remnants, with a wink, she spun on her heel to strut off to the door.

"That colour suits you! See you around, pretty boy. Enjoy your night."

@profligcte || 👀👀👀

[falseleadered]

i'm not sending this on anon, fuck that shit. i adoer you. i adore everything you write, i adore your characterisation on everything you touch. you have this wonderful ability to capture the soul of every character you write, you are the kindest soul, and honestly a beautiful individual inside and out. alana, i am truly blessed to have met you. and i love you so much

ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT ME. I CAN’T REPLY, JUST PUBLISH.

[lunarcries-blog1]

“Who were you with?”

“Why does it matter to you? I did what I was meant to.”

It’s a glowering approach, blood still sticky on her palms, curling in deep crimson wrinkles. A soft freckling of red across her cheeks, oh didn't it just bring out the colours of her eyes? heavily soaked into the fabric of her sleeves and beading along the metal blade. Another slit throat, broken limbs, a fair share of bruises.Fight dirty and get the results.Oh and did she get results. Nothing like a good mangled heap of flesh to get the adrenaline pumping. Pulling her gaze from his own, the woman pulled the knife against the fabric of her shirt, dragging off the blood before flicking it shut and pocketing it.

“Last I checked, bodies don’t talk. You have nothing to worry about.”

@profligcte || four word starters