* fullcfrage.

                          ^{tongue   runs   cautiously   against   the   ends   of   front   teeth,   clearly   displaying   his   caution.   sure,   he   had   hung   around   many   female   models   in   his   time   –   but   things   like   these   were   mostly   taken   care   of   by   the   artists.         ❛           you   realize   this   is   already   shitty,   right?           ❜         uncomfortably,   fingers   dip   the   brush   back   into   the   nail   polish   to   ready   another   coat.}

             ^{a   grin,   feather   light,   stretches   pink   lips,   her   free   hand    coming   up   to   hide   the   incoming    bout    of    laughter     (   laughing   with   him,   not   at   him    ).   the   whole   ordeal   is   absolutely   endearing :   the   way   his   tongue   peeks   from   between   lips   in   concentration,   &   his    fingers   delicately   painting   small   strokes   onto   her   nails.   he’s   not   doing   half - bad.         ❛         no,   no  !          ❜          &   in   her   quick   response,   that   restrained   giggle   escapes,   smile   growing.         ❛          you’re   doing   fine,   baby.         ❜}

(via fullcfrage)

* rcsetinted.

                  _{Tear  brimmed  eyes  SQUEEZED  SHUT,    a  few  salt  filled  drops  ran  down  the  FAIR  texture  of  her  cheek  as  she  clung  to  the  taller  woman’s  shaking  frame.    With  the  WORST  CASE  scenario  come  to  fruition                    this  was  ALL  she  could  think  to  do  and  she  was  abashed  by  the  lack  of  placating  things  to  say  to  the  woman  who  had  become  a  FOUNTAIN  OF  WISDOM  to  herself.    At  the  sound  of  Liz’s  voice,    the  former  groupie  pulled  away  just  enough  so  that  her  TEAR  FILLED  gaze  met  the  other’s.     ❝    Why  not    ???    ❞    she  just  barely  managed  to  croak.    ❝    S-someone  OUGHT  TO,    ❞    her  head  rested  against  Liz’s  chest  once  more                    unable  to  BEAR  seeing  such  a  pillar  of  strength  crumble  before  her  eyes.    It  was  just  SO  UNFAIR.    Columbia  could  scream  about  how  UNJUST  it  all  was  until  her  voice  gave  out    (  was  that  even  POSSIBLE  anymore    ???  ).    Despite  the  FURY  which  stirred  within  her  and  was  beginning  to  cloud  her  better  judgement,    Columbia  was  ABLE  to  deduce  why  so  much  desperation  was  present  Liz’s  voice  because  she  was  AFRAID  to  lose  another.    ❝    What  do  I  got  to  LOSE    ???    She  can’t  do  nothin’  to  me,    ❞    At  least  she  thought  so.    She  wasn’t  very  FAMILIAR  with  her  new  situation  or  what  COULD  or  COULDN’T  hurt  her.}

     _{a  TREMENDOUS   amount   of   effort   is   required   to   come   down   from   the   intense   high   of   adrenaline   &   grief   racking   her   quivering   frame,   to   quell   her   sobs   into   silent   tears.   she   has   to   pull   away   from   columbia’s   tight,   warm   embrace,   for   fear   of   breaking   down   all   over   again.   digits     soaked   in   ichor   come   to   try   and   wipe    away   the   running  makeup,   the   crying   that’d   stained   her   face,   only   to   unknowingly   further   smear   the   splatters   of   sanguine  already   there.   she’s   a   shaking   mess   of   blood,   sweat,   &   tears,   with   stains   on   her   dress   &   a   hole   in   her   heart.   hands   wring   themselves   together,   tired   gaze   locked   to  their   continuous   motion,   in   an   effort   to   avoid   columbia’s   crying   eyes.      ‘     because,    ‘    she   takes   a   deep   inhale,   as   if   she’s    forgotten    to   breathe,     ‘    she   –   she  doesn’t   m - matter   anymore.   ‘     words   are   hard  ;   she’s   choking   them   out   at   a   volume   barely   above   a   whisper.   &   thoughts   of   the   countess   are   even   harder,   when   tristan’s   death   is   a   broken   record   in   her   mind,   the   gruesome   picture   playing   over   &   over    again,   only   to   remind   her   of   the   blood   on   her   hands    (  her   fault   –   all   her   fault   ).}

(Source: rcsetinted-a-blog, via rcsetinted-a-blog)