prvntcessa

[prvntcessa]

@agentwang​ asked: ‘was it my fault?’

“no, i-ivy, no,” she whispered, softly, sadly, her voice shattering like glass and creating a wound where her mouth one was. mischa had spent her entire life living in fear of vulnerability, but she was tired of pretending to be strong. so she fell to pieces at ivy’s feet, none of them clean, all of them sharp. “nothing is your fault, da? look at me. NOTHING. it’s because he’s a piece of shit. it’s ... it’s because i’m a piece of shit.” she looked up at the girl, smiling miserably.

“it’s because i can’t do anything right. not even die. it’s because i’m stupid and loud and i make boys like me for the wrong reason. i drink too much and swear too f u c k i n g much and no matter what i do

                                                                 everyone. 

                             always.                                                                                          

                                                          DIES.   

mischa clasped the older woman’s hand and tried to laugh, to make it all seem okay. “so don’t worry, okay? it’s my fault. it always is.”

[prvntcessa]

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES. for when the person you’re trying to care for insists they don’t need your help.

“at least let me clean the wound!” “you’ll be even worse off if you don’t let me bandage this.” “i really think you need to see a doctor.” “i made you some soup, and i’m going to sit here until you eat it. i can wait.” “your feelings matter too! i can’t help you if i don’t even know what’s making you upset!” “..i’m here if you need anything, okay?” “stop trying to push yourself! you can’t do this on your own!” “listen, i know you don’t want to, but.. maybe you should rest for a while. you’re not going to get anywhere like this.” “i’ll make you a deal: i’ll just get you some bandages, and nothing else, and you stop making a fuss over it.” “how long has it last been since you slept?” “have you even been taking your medicine?” “i know you think you have to get through this by yourself, but you have people here to help you.” “let me take care of you, for once.” “you’re gonna hurt yourself even more if you do stupid things like that!” “i hate to break it to you, but you’re not supposed to do any strenuous physical activity for the next couple weeks, and if i have to personally make sure you don’t every waking hour of the day then i’m fully prepared to do that.” “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” “stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me!! this is serious!” “listen, asshole. i’m gonna carry you home whether you like it or not. you’re not in any condition to get there yourself.” “oh my god, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?!”

[prvntcessa]

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES. for when the person you’re trying to care for insists they don’t need your help.

“at least let me clean the wound!” “you’ll be even worse off if you don’t let me bandage this.” “i really think you need to see a doctor.” “i made you some soup, and i’m going to sit here until you eat it. i can wait.” “your feelings matter too! i can’t help you if i don’t even know what’s making you upset!” “..i’m here if you need anything, okay?” “stop trying to push yourself! you can’t do this on your own!” “listen, i know you don’t want to, but.. maybe you should rest for a while. you’re not going to get anywhere like this.” “i’ll make you a deal: i’ll just get you some bandages, and nothing else, and you stop making a fuss over it.” “how long has it last been since you slept?” “have you even been taking your medicine?” “i know you think you have to get through this by yourself, but you have people here to help you.” “let me take care of you, for once.” “you’re gonna hurt yourself even more if you do stupid things like that!” “i hate to break it to you, but you’re not supposed to do any strenuous physical activity for the next couple weeks, and if i have to personally make sure you don’t every waking hour of the day then i’m fully prepared to do that.” “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” “stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me!! this is serious!” “listen, asshole. i’m gonna carry you home whether you like it or not. you’re not in any condition to get there yourself.” “oh my god, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?!”

[prvntcessa]

* note starters

✉️ – a hurt note

✉️ – a caring note

✉️ – a goodbye note

✉️ – a note written as a reminder

✉️ – a hateful note

✉️ – a sad note

✉️ – a cheerful note

✉️ – a worried note

✉️ – a note of condolences

✉️ – an angry note

✉️ – a frightened note

✉️ – a thank you note

✉️ – an apology note

[prvntcessa]

* things said meme

things you said over the phone

things you said with the tv on mute 

things you said when you were proud

things you said under your breath

things you said with sorrow between your fists

things you said when you were lost

things you said when our world began to crumble

things you said with too many days between us

things you didn’t say at all

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

things you said you’ll never forget

things you said with clammy hands 

things you said when fear cut deep

things you said while a fever stole your mind

things you said with rage between your teeth

things you were afraid to say

things you said when no one else was around

things you said when the sun was shining

things you said with blooming bruises and stinging cuts

things you said when we were safe

things you said without thinking

things you said that kept me grounded

things you said you loved about me

things you said you hated about me

things you said when you lied

things you said with scraped knees 

things you said with tears in your eyes

things you said while holding my hand 

things you said in the car

things you said under the stars

things you said at my grave

things you said at the kitchen table

things you said on the porch at 3 am

things you said in a gas station parking lot 

things you said in a hotel room

things you said in the waiting room

things you said while you stroked my hair

things you said that made me feel loved

things you said when i was crying

things you said while i cried in your arms 

things you said when you thought i was asleep

things you said in your sleep

things you said when you kissed me goodnight

things you said after a nightmare

things you said before death snatched you

things you said that i wish you hadn’t

things you said when it ended

things you said when you met my friends

things you said when we first met

things you said when they took me away

[prvntcessa]

agentwang

“ugly?! only pretty girls, i swear.” she laughed out, a real laugh. she was starting to let her guard down around the other woman. “you know? they’re always convinced they’re not as truly beautiful as they actually really are.” she then looked at the other. her eyes were soft and she put a hand over her heart. “that is…  the most precious thing i’ve ever heard in my life. who would’ve known you were a romantic?!” she truly is endeared by the other. a scary mafia princess was sitting here, gushing over a girl. it was… incredible. this was her life now and she didn’t know what to make of it. but she liked it. she really did.

“mischa!” she laughed out, surprised her glass didn’t break with the force of the other. “cheers, i suppose.” she took another big gulp, and then nodded. “that’s right. you’ve never seen him!” she pulled her phone out, going into her photos, and finding the album. “he really was one of the most handsome men alive, and i’m only a little bias. we’d been together since high school and we just… i remembered the first time i ever saw him.” she tapped on a picture of the two of them, and her heart ached in her chest. “this is him.” she showed the other, sighing sadly. “i miss him so much, misch…” tears prick at her eyes but she blinks them back.

mischa had spent this entire conversation smiling and happy until ivy opened her phone and started showcasing her pictures of her “jacob”. mischa swallowed. loud. that was ivy’s jacob alright, but that was mischa’s jj. she wanted to stick her head in a furnace. the late blonde man had asked the mob princess for protection when his tech company started taking the heat and he was pretty enough that when his payments were late mischa took his payment in . . . alternative methods. this had worked for a while, but all of a sudden the payments and the bedroom visits stopped coming in all together. she was confused at the time but after ivy had confided in her, everything started to make sense. jj was ivy’s jacob and ivy’s jacob  was d e a d. hat’s why the payments and the visits from misha’s jj stopped. and that’s why it was all so complicated. FUCK.

mischa poured herself another shot, hands shaking. “haha, very handsome, da? uh, ivy? did your jacob . . . did he have any tattoos? weird ones, i mean...like Down There Tattoos? risky ones? just, you know, wondering. . .” mischa felt like she was going to throw up.

[prvntcessa]

prvntcessa‌:

mischa is known for being terrifying, a modern mafia medusa reducing men three times her size to ash and rubble, but the second someone brought up candy, the ravenette was bright pink and hiding her face in her hands, reduced to stutters and stammers over a girl with a butterfly tramp stamp who wore skirts from the little girl’s section as crop tops. “RIGHT!? and she thought she looked UGLY in that one! i – IVY. do not tell anyone i said this, but of all the money and riches we stole, i think the biggest prize was her. i would have — i’d trade it all for her, but sshshshshshhh….our secret, da?” her voice had the juvenile animation and dramatics of a girl at a 7th grade sleepover. that’s what this was. a sleepover. this was striker’s house but for ivy? she would brave it. 

you deserve to be happy. mischa took a long swig from her bottle. i deserve nothing, she wanted to say. my father is dead because of me and i’m a useless alcoholic who hurts everyone who makes the stupid mistake to care about me. but she couldn’t say that so she smiled and laughed. “more vodka!” the mafia princess mirrored comically, throwing her vodka into ivy’s wine glass with red faced gusto and such strength that it was a miracle that the glass clink hadn’t turned out like the titantic and the iceberg. with a little hiccup, mischa put her head on ivy’s shoulder, grinning radiantly stupidly, carelessly, poking ivy on the cheek with her matte black acryllic. “your turn. show me your ‘ jacob ‘.  i would like to see the cute butt you said was very smackable. go on. share with class.”

“ugly?! only pretty girls, i swear.” she laughed out, a real laugh. she was starting to let her guard down around the other woman. “you know? they’re always convinced they’re not as truly beautiful as they actually really are.” she then looked at the other. her eyes were soft and she put a hand over her heart. “that is…  the most precious thing i’ve ever heard in my life. who would’ve known you were a romantic?!” she truly is endeared by the other. a scary mafia princess was sitting here, gushing over a girl. it was… incredible. this was her life now and she didn’t know what to make of it. but she liked it. she really did.

“mischa!” she laughed out, surprised her glass didn’t break with the force of the other. “cheers, i suppose.” she took another big gulp, and then nodded. “that’s right. you’ve never seen him!” she pulled her phone out, going into her photos, and finding the album. “he really was one of the most handsome men alive, and i’m only a little bias. we’d been together since high school and we just… i remembered the first time i ever saw him.” she tapped on a picture of the two of them, and her heart ached in her chest. “this is him.” she showed the other, sighing sadly. “i miss him so much, misch…” tears prick at her eyes but she blinks them back.

[prvntcessa]

Manhandling symbol starters

Send one for your muse to…

★ - drag my muse by the arm ⁂ - grab my muse by the front of their shirt, possibly shoving them back ✱ - take my muse by the hips to carefully move them out of their way ➜ - smack my muse upside the head ⌧ - grip my muse by the back of the neck © - put a hand on my muse’s back to steer them somewhere ✂ - point sternly at a chair and tell my muse to sit down ✉ - push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed (perhaps involving illness, injury, or sleep deprivation) ☛ - press a finger to my muse’s lips to shut them up ♚ - put a hand on my muse’s knee while sitting next to them, to discourage them from standing up ♧ - slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch ♦ - grab my muse’s hair and yank ♤ - slam a door shut before my muse can leave the room ♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them ♭ - grip my muse’s jaw to make them look yours in the eye ♨ - rub my muse down with a sponge/wet cloth  ☀ - pin my muse with their arms behind their back ☠ - slam my muse into a wall ☾ - wrestle/pin my muse to the ground

Add as much or as little context as you’d like!

[prvntcessa]

SOFT ANGST STARTERS.

‘stay for me.’

‘what’s this between us?’

‘i don’t want your apology.’

‘you know i have feelings for you.’

‘yeah, i remember the drill.’

‘you’ve never hurt me. ever.’

‘then leave her/him/them. at home.’

‘i don’t believe it.’

‘this is breaking my heart.’

‘you met me at a very strange time in my life.’

‘what keeps you up at night?’

��i wish you were here.’

‘i let you down.’

‘something strange happened here.’

‘you’re not safe here.’

‘i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.’

‘we are not the same, and never will be.’

‘don’t touch me.’

‘is it my fault?’

‘i’m not like them.’

‘i forgot my name again.’

‘i don’t know who i am.’

‘your fear of looking stupid is holding you back.’

‘are you still alive?’

‘i don’t like being told what to do.’

‘am i making you uncomfortable?’

‘nobody cares if you don’t go to the party.’

‘it was supposed to be fun, and you ruined it.’

‘where the hell are my friends?’

‘stop pretending life doesn’t terrify you.’

[prvntcessa]

@prvntcessa​ asked : ✺ We Love To Suffer

✺  ╱  MY MUSE PROTECTING YOURS FROM A SLEAZE AT THE CLUB.

     ── jace never knows what to do with himself alone at a club. everyone always crowds in to vie for a dance or a drink, neither of which he particularly cares for, and so often he just finds himself floating, scanning the crowd for something or someone of INTEREST. places such as these are too crowded for his taste, the wrong sort of chaos, and usually he’ll excuse himself after a few minutes of mingling for something better. that night, however, he isn’t so aimless ; keeping his chin craned up to look over the crowd, like holding his head above the water of a flood, he searches for mischa.

it’s meant to be a surprise. it’s been a few weeks since he’s seen her last, after chasing some whim off and following that impulse for LONGER than intended. upon finding his way back to familiarity, he’d set himself to the bratva house, boris greeting him with a curious sort of expression about him that jace has never been able to read— either the man wants him dead or had an odd sort of affection for him. maybe both. regardless, he’d somewhat hesitantly informed jace as to where mischa had vanished for the evening, sending him off towards the club. he’s uncertain whether his sudden, unexpected appearance will be welcomed or feel to be an ambush, though it’s too late to change his mind. he’s already seen her across the space.

Keep reading

[prvntcessa]

mischa is known for being terrifying, a modern mafia medusa reducing men three times her size to ash and rubble, but the second someone brought up candy, the ravenette was bright pink and hiding her face in her hands, reduced to stutters and stammers over a girl with a butterfly tramp stamp who wore skirts from the little girl’s section as crop tops. “RIGHT!? and she thought she looked UGLY in that one! i -- IVY. do not tell anyone i said this, but of all the money and riches we stole, i think the biggest prize was her. i would have --- i’d trade it all for her, but sshshshshshhh....our secret, da?” her voice had the juvenile animation and dramatics of a girl at a 7th grade sleepover. that’s what this was. a sleepover. this was striker’s house but for ivy? she would brave it. 

you deserve to be happy. mischa took a long swig from her bottle. i deserve nothing, she wanted to say. my father is dead because of me and i’m a useless alcoholic who hurts everyone who makes the stupid mistake to care about me. but she couldn’t say that so she smiled and laughed. “more vodka!” the mafia princess mirrored comically, throwing her vodka into ivy’s wine glass with red faced gusto and such strength that it was a miracle that the glass clink hadn’t turned out like the titantic and the iceberg. with a little hiccup, mischa put her head on ivy’s shoulder, grinning radiantly stupidly, carelessly, poking ivy on the cheek with her matte black acryllic. “your turn. show me your ‘ jacob ‘.  i would like to see the cute butt you said was very smackable. go on. share with class.”

@prvntcessa​

“oh my god. she’s so pretty!” ivy laughed out, nudging misha’s side, a smile on her face. “you really did hit the jackpot with that one, babe.” her words slur slightly and she takes another sip from her bottle of wine. she didn’t even bother with glasses when she was with mischa. because she knew that first of all, she wouldn’t judge her, but also, she had to be able to keep up. and she never would if she used something like a glass. really, she should stick to hard alcohol, but the last time she did that she ended up making a lot of… regrettable decisions. so she stuck to wine. “i’m really happy you’re happy, you know? you deserve it. you deserve to be happy.” okay, so maybe she was a little bit more than just tipsy. she was definitely boardering on being genuinely drunk. “i wish you could’ve met jacob, you know? i think you would’ve really liked him. you, me, candy, him. a double date!” she laughed out, shaking her head, a sadness creeping up into her heart. “more wine!” she turned to grab the bottle, chugging quite a bit of it. ah, much better.

[prvntcessa]

[prvntcessa]

that girl is real trouble!

[prvntcessa]

candy lol 💭

“konfety! i am so glad momo delivered my number to you and you decided to call! i know you are very busy little lady, sitting on the laps of santa claus men even when it is not christmas, but you always make time to send me cute selfies in little skirts making pouty face. i make them my wallpaper and look at them when i miss you! ( all the time :((( ) 

i think it is very cute you cry during scary movies and that you put lip gloss on your eyes sometimes -- even though it smells good and makes my brain very confused because your name is already candy and you are very tasty, but i hope, not eyeballs. haha.

i know you are embarrassed about the perogi statue you painted at pottery place on our first date, but i do not think it looks like it is on drugs! you are too hard on self! i think it is very nice, you made my perogi look very handsome and i leave it on nightstand so that when i go home ( and am not with indie and thea ) it will protect me from sleep paralysis demons.

the only thing i do not like is the long distance, malishka. it is very 'ass’, as you say. i know i can fly you out often, but still -- it is not the same, da? listen this is . . . okay, this makes me sweaty and more nervous than most men who leave my office, but i have been meaning to ask. i-----would you like to move in with me? 

i -- i, IF IT IS TOO SOON FORGET I ASKED!!!!! i know it is a little early, but new orleans is much more fun than vegas! all they have there is old people, bad buffet food and cigarette smoke. blech. and besides, here you have me! and ‘rogi ! and that place that makes sushi burrito you like!

i, i just ...care about you a lot, monica, and i want to take care of you. if you let me, of course.

also, i changed the door code to your birthday, 

i hope that is not too much.”

[prvntcessa]

“ is everything alright? ”

“‘ is everything alright ? ‘ mischa mocked cruelly, badly imitating his american accent with narrowed eyes. “ i don’t know JACE, does it look like everything is alright?” a dark, dry laugh left her lips dripping with sarcasm and vodka.

“i can’t believe . . . i can’t believe i WAITED for you. even before i met candy, i had men, women, children of powerful families, throwing themselves at my feet, begging me to choose them and i still waited by the phone like stupid idiot school girl for my mysterious bad idea prince charming to text me back and drive off into sunset with me in some little fancy car he stole.” 

mischa brought the bottle to her lips and had a little too much, coughing, sputtering wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, lipstick smudged.

“ --- Блядь, i answered every SPAM LIKELY call just in case it was you. i checked news every night for car crashes. i even made fucking bracelet out of fucking wire you left in fucking j a c k e t you lent me. god, i’m such an IDIOT ! ” mischa put her head in her hands, willing herself not to cry. NO. she would not be the sad drunk girl at the party who cries over a boy. she blinked back tears and attempted to compose herself.

“i jussss ... “ she slurred, waving the bottle around as she talked. “ i thought it all meant something. like you were playing a game, leaving me clues. our own little heist.” she admitted, anger, sadness, embarrassment clouding her voice. “oh, he left cigarettes, he left sunglasses, he will stay this time, THIS TIME he will stay, i know it . . .and every time i woke up alone.” mischa’s voice cracked and it was the saddest sound in the world. 

drink. 

slam.

“so i gave up. i was tired of waiting for someone who would never come. i was tried of crying -- of wondering what was wrong with me. why i wasn’t good enough. why wasn’t a good enough reason to stay? i was tired of sleeping alone and now . . . now i never have to again.” a single tear rolled down her cheek. “you see, you are too late, comrade. i have girlfriend now who i like very much. i never have to wait for her and she always tells me that i’m good enough. always.” 

mischa’s phone beeped. 

speak of the devil. 

“i have to go, candy is waiting for me outside.

good bye, jace. ”

[prvntcessa]

Send a ‘💭’ to learn what my muse thinks of yours.