#redheid

[jennifercheck]

𝑻he aftermath isn't what's important. What is dire is what lead to this moment. It's an odd night, an hour or two past midnight, and she's riding a high no substance can provide. The departed morning was spent in agony, rigid skin & aching bones. She hadn't fed in a while, that gnawing feeling growing stronger and stronger, until one trip to the nearest gas station ended with a bite ── [OR TWO, OR THREE, OR FIVE.] Jennifer hasn't had a record in a while, and most were roadkill and rodents, but that sickening desperation has only grown stronger. Now, for something else. Jennifer could swear something's different. When the hunger strikes, and her not-fed-yet streak hits a few days, she begins to experience the withdrawal ... FLAKY SKIN, scabbing that never heals ─ (it only itches, bloodshot eyes & [STIFFENING OF HER BONES AS IF TO RETURN TO HER ROTTING STATE.] But this time? It felt like she had finally died, as if she had finally been persecuted for all those victims. A year of non-stop killing, so much so, that it feels like getting her nails done.

It felt like she had finally reached 𝙷ell.

Which is precisely why she's in such a good mood tonight. Full of optimism, confident in her own (tanned) skin, lips overly glossy. As her cherries wrap around her joint, there's a ring of sparkle left atop pink wrapping paper ── [CLEAR EVIDENCE TO SHOW SHE HAD ROLLED IT HERSELF.] She swiftly passes it over to Mark, tongue grazing against pearls to exhale smoke from underneath, ceruleans busy scanning the inside of her Juicy Couture handbag. Bare legs are held to her chest, sat upon a concrete ledge, french tips gnawing at her keys, makeup, compact mirror... [BEFORE SHE FINDS THE PRIZE.] Jennifer looks up at him, face immediately uplifted, a wide grin spreading across dollface.

A tiny ziplock bag is lifted. Hanging in front of his face. There's a white powdery substance inside.

@redheid: YOU ARE THE FUCKING BEST.

𝕳ead tilts, cheek leaning against the soft buttery top of her shoulder, an appreciative smile slipping onto skin. ❝ Big time. ❞ She takes a deep breath, and throws it into his lap, swinging skinny fingers to get a hold of the joint again. The truth is, these substances seem to prevent her mind from achieving any peace. For the succubus inside, the high is merely a distraction, something to numb everything: THE BEAST, (the remnants of humanity), ── it all becomes waste once she inhales.

❝ You take the first hit. Y'know, incase it's like, poison. ❞

[astrophager]

⋆ ⭒ ˚ . ⋆ INTERSTELLAR PROMPTS. HEAVILY ACCEPTING.

"how long you think it's been up there?" — @redheid.

and they say there's no such thing as a stupid question. i mean, really ? maaaybe i should cut the guy some slack. i've heard worse from my students ( much, much worse ) but still.

❛ what, the sun ? oh, only four - point - six billion years. ❜ and the response is enthused with sarcasm, for ryland knows little more than to ladle his words with true intent, his real thoughts unmasked. he may be good with kids, but adults is another story. ❛ about as long as we've been down here —we, figurative, that is. earth. ❜ he gesticulates with his hand as he speaks, a ruminating scientist through and through. but his company isn't the only one with curiosity in his bones.

❛ why do you even ask ? what got that thought running around the old hamster wheel, anyway ? ❜

[deathscenes]

01.     pockets.

A PEEK INSIDE     :     jon's pockets

1 .    cigarettes & lighter ,    whatever he can find at the local convenience store . he's not picky . 2 .    crumbles of paper ,     reminders ,   forgotten numbers ,     & discarded receipts . 3 .    change ,    leftover from trips to the soda machine & other cash only vendors .  4 .    a deer antler ,    a trinket handed down from a friend for good luck .  5 .    a few fireball candies ,    his favorite .  6 .    his busted up iphone ,    won't tell you how old it is ,    but let's just say a man doesn't ask for much .

[mcneyhoney]

@redheid​

           " rents, man, y’know i love ye an’ all bu’ i ain’ sellin’ you  shit  till you spit out whatcha owe me. “    

                     end of the month things, idnnit?? he’s sitting there rolling a rollie out a fresh pouch, new box of filters, crisp white airforce on, canadian goose for the cold breeze, telling a junkie he needs the cash. nox is fighting with himself, though, believe that. the addict in him knows the panic when your dealer cuts you off, when you’ve no cash for the debt and even less for the next shot. the dealer in him knows if he comes back to the haus with a deficit because of him it’ll be  both  their asses on the line. he hands the rollie to renton, lights it for him anawl. 

         “ y’know i’d be sound if i coul’ bu’  ---   i’ve been sound up till now. “

[borispavsky-arc]

       ‶ tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more. ″    /  @redheid

      you’re feeling sound and hearing colours ; the night sky hosts stars that seem more like planets of their own, melting into black abyss with vibrant colour from window view.    scottish boy lay beside you in bedroom, darkened space with record playing in the background.    something fitting for the occasion :  ‘ i wanna be your dog ’ off of the stooges self titled album.  [ now we’re gonna be face-to-face and i’ll lay right down in my favourite place. ]   his words sound louder than they likely are , hitting your ears as if breaking the sound barriers.      tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more.      shifting ‘pon mattress, slavic boy observes him with a sense of amusement.  an amusement fuelled with intoxicated intentions.    

           ‶  we’re as dead as ever, rent.  practically six feet under, isn’t that something?   the world chewed us up and spat us out, the bastard.  ″    accent thick words follow with laughter that rocks you, as you slink closer ; nudging him playfully.    a boundary to cross and you were bound to cross it.    knuckle bruised hand reaches forward to grasp his face, pulling it flush to yours.  lips met his for a kiss that felt like an eternity but lasted mere moments; rolling over to lay upon back, reaching into pocket for pack of cigarettes.    slipping one between lips, gas-station lighter sparks to life, singeing the end of cigarette which soon follows an inhale. 

             ‶  you love me even more, ha!   what sorry bastards we are.  right back at you, friend.  ″ 

[distantsuns-archive]

@redheid sent:  🌈 :eyes:

memories meme --- accepting!

okay this is lowkey cheating but i had this thing i wrote about james’ experience with his first love and his first heartbreak and yeah whatever im gonna link the doc

[rosedharc]

mark  renton     sent  a  message  /  cry for help     ( @redheid​ )    —    ‘  but  i  don’t  want  to  go outside.  there  are   people   out  there.  ’

    𝐓𝐎  𝐁𝐄  𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑,  𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐀  𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐃  𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍  to  stay  inside  and  mope  all  day  —  but  the  place  is  starting  to  smell,  her  nerves  are  as  tense  as  they  can  humanly  get  —  alright,  she's  a  little  jumpy  today.  nothing  a  walk  can't  fix.  the  other,  however,  seems  bent  on  staying  right  where  they  are.  ❝  𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄  𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀  𝐆𝐄𝐓  𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍?  ❞  the  joke's  a  bit  too  snarky.  seems  like  it,  anyway.  the  girl  stands  up  to  open  the  binds  and  let  some  sunlight  within  the  room.  a  faint  gust  of  wind,  too,  brings  much  fresher  air  to  oxygen  previously  turned  foul.  rosie  turns  back,  arms  crossed  either  as  a  sign  of  patience  or  the  lack  of  it  —  might  be  hard  to  tell  with  the  backlight  on  her.    ❝  𝐈'𝐌  𝐍𝐎𝐓  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐎  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘  𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐀𝐋𝐋  𝐃𝐀𝐘.  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓  𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑,  𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍  𝐎𝐅  𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐃.  ❞  this  time,  she's  taunting  him.  besides,  it'd  be  less  boring  to  get  out  with  someone  else;  rosie  knows  she'll  end  up  wandering  around  with  too  much  time  to  waste.    ❝  𝐒𝐎?  𝐃𝐎  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀  𝐑𝐎𝐓  𝐈𝐍  𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐎𝐑  𝐆𝐎  𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐀  𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊?  ❞

[hyane]

vague tweets for @redheid