It’s funnier if you read her texts
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@thxtslife-blog
It’s funnier if you read her texts
FABULOUS AT EVERY AGE; 20s | Harper’s BAZAAR Japan
not everything is about you
that’s fucked up and i refuse to believe it
❝ Life is cruel and unfair, my friends, and that is fact. ❞ — Stephan Jenkins
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my kink is when people tell me they were thinking about me
desxderium:
☆。.:*: 🍒┇ At the mercy of the mysterious stranger’s stare, Rebecca cannot decide whether she should feel excited or terrified. Something about it, millions of years behind those dark, ominous eyes, crushing, until her gaze retreats casually to their surroundings. At once Becky feels an air of relief akin to a toothache finally soothed after the pull.
But then the question comes, icy, and what smile Rebecca wore, with lots of teeth but little to show for it, vanishes as though an axe has been taken to it. Her previous instincts about this beautiful creature have quite suddenly quadrupled — the air thick enough it could be cut through like a hot knife in butter. “How — how do you know ah-about that?”
Maybe she’d been more subtle before, more mysterious and aloof. But, the years had made her harsh and BLUNT and energy was no longer wasted on playing human with things that were either no longer living or not even human to begin with.
Life’s hand still perched beneath her chin, she casts an almost tired look the woman’s way. She truly did look motherly — just hardly in any sort of warm and fuzzy way.
“Does it matter?” her retort sounded a mixture of tired, of annoyed, and l a z y.
“Am I right? Did they hide your body? Can’t move on until you find it? Poor thing.” it would be the closest thing to sympathy she would get. It truly was so TACKY. Hiding bodies was an insult to Life and Death alike. It was, perhaps, one of the few things the two beings could agree on.
desxderium:
☆。.:*: 🍒┇ The woman’s sheathing points off Rebecca at a heartbeat’s rate: she’s not the first to respect with deep rooted temper. She does, after all, look the part of the homeless, dressed in tatters and bruises, approaching a stranger without scruple — but something about this one spells a steep decline, all of which is hidden beneath a beautiful envelope, wrapped in artistry and class. Rebecca cannot tell if she wishes to prod further, or simply escape her smile.
Surprisingly, she chooses the first option, and so her head cocks mildly to the side akin to a curious animal. ❝Welcoming? I thought i-i-it did. Now, in-intriguing, mm-more like.❞ She smiles back, stretching her cheeks, puffing them; it does not reach her eyes, only lingers in her square teeth. ❝When you’re luh-like me you tend to speak puh-hersonally to anyone you can find. ❞ Oh — she’s intrigued alright: what lies beneath this woman’s pretty skin? Rebecca thinks she can SMELL ethereal on her, the perfume of ichor; without description but that of a new, previously undiscovered color, neither warm nor cold. ❝I have nn-nothing to lose, y’see?❞
It was funny, really. Funny how one could scorn the creations they themselves had the very hand in creating. Perhaps it was her ancient age that had instilled such a lack of self-awareness, such a juvenile way of handling encounters with her own children.
“Of course you don’t.” a knowing tone with a sharpened edge. A subtle implication that she knew of the woman’s state and would spare her no sympathy in regards to it.
The deity looked to her nails and then disinterestedly around her present surroundings. “Are you buried here? Or is that why you’re still here being a nuisance?” she could at least be given credit for her bluntness. “It’s so tacky to do that. Hiding bodies.”
just a quick sketch of the bae
❝ Life is cruel and unfair, my friends, and that is fact. ❞ — Stephan Jenkins
[ HOME ] [ ASK ] [ RULES ] [ ABOUT ]
Bryce Fox//Horns
She got blood cold as ice And a heart made of stone But she keeps me alive She’s the beast in my bones
@thxtslife liked for a small lyrics starter Alex’s Theme Machine Head Mix — Silent Hill Homecoming
☆。.:*: 🍒┇ ❝It started long b-before me. I nn-never saw it coming….❞
She’d have dragged her hand down her face if she wasn’t positive it’d drag her make-up down along with it. It was easy enough to ignore her in between children usually — those Death had touched but not quite taken wholly. Today she felt particularly...short-tempered.
“Does my face look welcoming?” turned so suddenly to the woman, head cocked. Though she SMILES politely, it’s clear a temper flares beneath. “Or do you speak so personally to everyone in such an uncalled for manner?”
can you die from lack of affection? Asking for myself
rineriko:
[Maison de Yelol]
My beloved bag of chips for an active Death blog && and Poison Ivy blog tbh.
I’ve got a pretty hefty migraine so I’m gonna chillax and go tag surfing later