skinclocks

[skinclocks]

hello everyone. i decided to move this blog to a new url wich is @shapesclock and i will be more selective with new mutuals but if anyone wishes to have plots and keep writing with tessa then by all means, follow us there ❤️ i saved my drafts but my inbox is now open as it is considered empty.

THANKS

[skinclocks]

hello everyone. i decided to move this blog to a new url wich is @shapesclock and i will be more selective with new mutuals but if anyone wishes to have plots and keep writing with tessa then by all means, follow us there ❤️ i saved my drafts but my inbox is now open as it is considered empty.

THANKS

[skinclocks]

hello everyone. i decided to move this blog to a new url wich is @shapesclock and i will be more selective with new mutuals but if anyone wishes to have plots and keep writing with tessa then by all means, follow us there ❤️ i saved my drafts but my inbox is now open as it is considered empty.

THANKS

[skinclocks]

i'm so tired these last few days, so i'm sorry for the general lack of activity here and on @foulrests. i'm going to do a blog makeover over here on tessa, if anyone wishes to chat i'll be on discord.

[skinclocks]

THE MUMMY 1999 | dir. Stephen Sommers

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✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 .    (  a collection of  mixed action prompts.   adjust phrasing as desired.   potentially mature content within.  )

[ 1. ] sender steps between receiver and an aggressive stranger, voice low and steady: "walk. away."

[ 2. ] sender teaches receiver self-defense, hands firm on their hips as they adjust their stance.

[ 3. ] sender presses their forehead to receiver's, voice breaking as they murmur, "i don't know how to fix this, but i'm not leaving."

[ 4. ] sender shoves receiver out of the way of a projectile.

[ 5. ] sender combs their fingers through receiver's hair in the aftermath of a traumatic event, whispering words of comfort.

[ 6. ] sender whispers, “i’ve thought about this all day,” before pinning receiver against a wall for a searing kiss.

[ 7. ] sender wipes away the receiver’s falling tears with their thumb and whispers, “i’m here."

[ 8. ] sender patches up receiver's wounds, hands trembling as they whisper, "you can't keep doing this to me."

[ 9. ] sender shoves receiver into a hiding spot, hissing, "stay here or i’ll kill you myself."

[ 10. ] sender finds receiver drunk at a party, sighing. "let’s get you home."

[ 11. ] sender is discovered sleepwalking by receiver.

[ 12. ] sender steals receiver’s weapon and presses it to their own chest, daring: “go ahead. prove me right.”

[ 13. ] sender ‘accidentally’ flashes receiver while changing, purring, "see something you like?"

[ 14. ] sender whispers, "you’ll ruin me," before biting receiver’s lip hard enough to draw blood.

[ 15. ] sender takes over while receiver is giving themselves stitches, promising to handle it.

[ 16. ] sender frantically grips receiver by the shoulders, "don't you dare close your eyes."

[ 17. ] sender fixes receiver’s crooked [ tie / jewelry ], teasing, "nervous?"

[ 18. ] sender shakes receiver out of a nightmare, comforting them in the aftermath. "same nightmare again?"

[ 19. ] sender brings hot tea and medication to a [ hungover / ill ] receiver.

[ 20. ] sender invites receiver to dance with them, insisting, "what? this song's perfect."

[ 21. ] sender leaves a single rose on receiver’s windshield with a note: "you’re being followed. smile."

[ 22. ] sender pins receiver’s wrists during a sparring match, grinning, "yield."

[ 23. ] sender playfully steals something from receiver, initiating a chase. "come and get it, then."

[ 24. ] sender drapes a blanket over receiver, accidentally waking them. "sorry, go back to sleep."

[ 25. ] receiver returns home only to find sender already there. "finally."

[ 26. ] after a pleasant night out together, sender asks: "can i kiss you goodnight?"

[ 27. ] sender wipes the blood from receiver's face, murmuring, "let's get you cleaned up."

[ 28. ] sender shoves receiver against a vending machine to dodge security, breathless. "act natural."

[ 29. ] sender wakes receiver in the throes of a nightmare, reassuring them, "it's okay, it's not real."

[ 30. ] sender purposefully antagonizes receiver, hurling insults; "what are you gonna do about it?"

[skinclocks]

his question took her by surprise. tessa opened and closed her mouth a few times, deciding upon what to say. he looked young, too young then. like a little boy lost from a loved one in a crowd. it was rare the moments where she felt this longing to protect someone, to take someone in so throughly without questioning their morals or reasons to be close. she had always been someone to stand in front of another with one foot behind her, always ready to flee. it took a while to conquer her trust ; the one exception being will herondale, but he was gone for some time now.

the smile she gave james farrow was saddened but emphatic. ❛ i'm not a vampire so maybe i can't help you as you need... though it is simple, i guess. see, the majority of them is really old - control comes with habit. ❜ tessa offers him kindly, taking his arm and guiding him towards the empty varanda where the smell of blood wouldn't hunt him down. ❛ you are only two months into this new life, things are too new for you. immortality makes every year feel like seconds after a while, so it is much harder to be... satisfied. ❜ she grew into the years like a mad woman, a grief woman, until now it settled into a comfort of knowing it was all worth it. for vampires, though, tessa supposed was different.

the air outside was light and slightly cold. she grinned to greet it and took james' cold hands into her own, disliking the way they were deadly. ❛ distract yourself, it will help. do you know i have a son with your name? james. ❜ and how she missed her boy.

an intelligent and tender voice had found him in a daze. james blinked, his eyes too sharp, and worked a breath only because it was habit. all around him, things shone appealingly. everyone was beautiful; he'd stared to no end, admiring even in his misery. his veins burned and his throat ached, his stomach twisted up like a vine — the cup he'd taken from a tray with smiling eyes hadn't been enough. james studiously avoided staring at tessa's throat as he considered her words. the grin on his mouth, though easy, slight, and automatic, failed to hide what she'd already seen: aimless, desperate hunger. ❛ but i am. ❜ here for himself, that is. selfish want. ❛ you see, i need... ❜ the young vampire trailed off here, his tongue thick in his mouth, because no word would suffice.

he needed, end of. needed, needed, needed. urges drove james farrow. they always had. his heart and feelings ruled him, even now, even like this. tessa's observation came like an anchor again, saving him from this line of thought. she understood, then. he hardly had to explain. appreciation swelled inside of him. he bowed his head low, the power to speak suddenly restored. his cloying smile was gone, replaced by an expression far more naked. ❛ that's it. i was turned two months ago. nothing sates me. nothing satisfies. i want to— tell me, how do they take such small sips? ❜ a gesture of his head here toward various others. keen and envious, he watched bodies move for a long while before adding, ❛ how do they make it look so simple? ❜

[skinclocks]

i've made a playlist for tessa and maybe you should check it out idk

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tessa's hunger games verse is out.

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creating a thg verse for tessa ✨️

[skinclocks]

impolite on which part? his? as if it was not the other man interrupting something. a dream-like fantasy where their days were interwined again. a cozy afternoon of tea and conversation, laughter, and a kiss and a caress or two if only they weren't so uneasy to walk into the past. tessa had to accept that yes, they were still on the purgatory of their unique second-chance, entering the all open doors. wondering if one step ahead was enought to fall face front, unready to break themselves into pieces once again. in truth, she had nothing but reckless abandon within his arms. so long, uncountable days, had been enough. an empty place, a missing place, always waiting to be fulfilled by moony structures and violin tunes. still, she could not blame ; and couldn't not wonder if he was right, after all, to leave like this. if his position wasn't created due to years of numbess she would never be able to grasp ...

tessa did not respond his question. '' to see him soon '' felt wrong, after all. and then jem continued, looking at her like a friendly mailman or a shopkeeper she saw everyday ; pleasantly, but distant. as if his vocal chords still were within his mind rather than mouth. an anger filled her throat and her arms crossed — feeling her heart be slapped by his words. images of carriages and blushes, of trains and her younger self calling him a good friend came out of their grave to taunt her. very well, she'd let them do much — but not him.

❛ yes, we are such good friends ! i wouldn't blame if you found an affair to warm your nights, either. ❜ everything in her tone, her posture, and the clear storm on grey eyes told him otherwise. tessa huffed. ❛ that's all we are after centuries, and after we kissed on blackfriar's weeks ago. just good friends. i'll tell the man waiting in my living room he has nothing to worry for. ❜ she remembered his name. jonathan. funny enough, he was no nephilim. a first. still, though handsome the mundane was, he held no candle to the man in front of her. he had no such sweetness and sharpness alike, and even less the key to her deepest desires and affections.

he was without anger by the time she caught up with him, and a part of wondered if he had anticipated it, or quietly hoped for it, or if these were dregs of wants and memories that his body had resumed on. he shook himself free of it by the time he turned to watch her, a hand on his arm to slow his walk. the irritation was gone by then. he had never been particularly good at being angry with her or around her, but there was a coldness to him now, as if zachariah's shadow was refusing to let go of the body he had held for more than a hundred years. it was startling in contrast : that he might look at her now with an unreadable face, and her stern and stormy eyes were caught up in flushed uncertainty.

❛❛ i am not unpleased with you. ❜❜  it felt an important distinction to make, or at least he hoped he could assure her of that much : that jem would never forsake her, her happiness, and surely he had proved that much. rather, he desperately hoped it had, that the pain had been worth some gold in the mine after all. ❛❛ merely that intrusion felt impolite. it was time i got going any way, but shall i see you soon? ❜❜

he forced a smile, however moody as the faces of the moon it might have been, but his intentions for all their confused feelings had been purer than his greed. when he spoke again, it was only after a reluctant pause. her suitor, or whoever he was, was still waiting inside for her. had she chased him out of worry, or fear that he might withdraw? ❛❛ you don't have to worry tessa, i'm not cross with you. ❜❜  as if the shadow of their past was not a weighted sky pressing down on them. why wouldn't she want freedom from it? he stood as he was, only half facing her, hands at his sides rather than where they wanted to be on her face. london was a dream around them : quaint streets and red busses rolling past, uninterested in their wounds. ❛❛ we're better friends than that, aren't we? ❜❜

[skinclocks]

laughter blooms, heart not allowing to be full of annoyance over getting wet. droplets of water falling through cheek where his fingers left, once more his words making her soar with such a striking love she'd once only could dream of. very well, then. she wouldn't leave. she'd stay next to the bathtub on that little bench, just observing his figure and waiting out the bubbles to die out. tessa beams for a few seconds before letting composure take place. head shakes in denial. ❛ no one comes here besides sophie and she's out with gideon... ❜ voice was strangled, as if those hands of his had made their way to the end of her chords.

she takes his hands off of her, not devoid of affection. brown strands moves as once again she shakes her head, trying not to fall into temptation. ❛ the purpose of a bath is getting cleaner and not dirtier, ❜ but who cared, in the end? some of it was shyness, one she couldn't get rid off yet. even if a big part of tessa was surprised at how forward she could be, still, this was different. ever since cair... it had been slow. tempting, a constant learning of each other. will had been covered by a veil before. the curse he believed he carried. she'd seen through it, but now - it was reachable.

❛ promise to be a gentleman. i'm only doing this to save water, you see. ❜ it would be cruel to have to pour a new bath. tessa stood, taking her layers one by one, cheeks ablaze. when finished there was no minute to let him wander his eyes, for she quickly entered the tub. water splashed to the floor.

will  closes  his  eyes,     sliding  further  into  the  water.     he  rests  his  head  at  the  basin's  end,     &.  only  peeks  through  dark  lashes  when  tessa  moves  about  the  room  again.     he  beams  when  she  stays,  when  her  dutiful  handful  of  sponge  graces  his  skin.     ❝  thank  you,  tess,  ❞     will  says  tenderly.  his  dripping  hand  emerges  from  the  water,     over  the  edge  of  the  tub  to  reach  out  to  her  cheek.  wet  fingers  twirl  one  of  her  mousy  brown  curls.     ❝  STAY,     or  else  i  fear  i  may  wake  up  from  this  dream.  ❞     he  trails  down  the  line  of  her  jaw,     pale  thumb  settling  on  her  plush  bottom  lip.

A  GENTLEMAN  WOULD  STOP.     a  gentleman  would  have  returned  to  his  own  chambers  for  a  private  bath.     but,     will  herondale  is  just  a  man.     a  man  in  love  with  a  woman.

he  sighs  under  the  sweep  of  her  hand.     ❝  join  me,  ❞     will  murmurs,     ocean  eyes  flicking  up  from  tessa's  mouth  to  her  owl-like  gaze,     so  wise  &.  full  of  life.     ❝  should  anyone  discover  us,     let  this  be  their  reminder  to  leave  LOVEBIRDS  alone,  ❞     he  says,      half-jokingly.     will's  hand  abandons  her  mouth,     descending  the  line  of  her  throat.     his  palm  rests  atop  her  décolletage,     over  the  swell  of  her  breast  &.  her  rapid  heart.

[skinclocks]

can't really explain, but pink floyd is tessa's favorite band.

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you guys should totally follow me on @foulrests and send me memes *winks*

[skinclocks]

the voice was familiar not for the notes within it, but the strange accent that followed it. she was never able to place it somewhere. once, on the first date, tessa inquired after it but the answer was forgotten somewhere in her brain. locked with the mere existance of the person holding it, perhaps. so in the end, she was mean-spirited and not altogether holy, her demon nature truly taking hold of the worst thing her heart could offer; a very deep but selective love. posing it was reachable for those poor souls while she only sought some mere comfort, flesh and heat to sleep with in lonely nights.

the scene was eclipsed by the joy inside the soul. simply having him near, back, was enough. of course, some things were still unfinished and left in the dark ; was it the same feeling from centuries ago that brought him here, now, or is it something else? comodity, casuality, custom. words tessa despised more and more. jem's rudeness startled her more than the presence of the mundane man holding flowers with awkward disposition. her mouth parted and brow furrowed in anger and confusion as the guest - unwanted - asked where he should put the bouquet.

❛ oh, i'm sorry. here, please. they are very beautiful. ❜ she'd rather get books as gifts, but rudeness was not her main trait anyhow. flowers died too soon. for others, it was days ; to her it seemed like seconds. jem's turning back rose an anxiety like never before, keeping her from enjoying their perfume or sight ; a wave of almost childish despair, like a little girl seeing their best friend leave after stating they would never talk again. ❛ can you excuse me for a second? ❜ he murmured an exhausted of course. she paid it no mind. running after jem just after the door closed ── touching his shoulder with desperation..

❛ please, don't leave. ❜ it's not you i that i want gone. never. tessa did not look down, cheeks heated but not colored. no shame at all. her feet kept moving with no steps, though. fretting. ❛ i'll understand if you do. you seem... unpleased. but i really wish you wouldn't. ❜ ever again. too soon? too fast? how could it be when they were also too late?

who's at the door?

his eyes flickered awake, where he had been — not asleep, but more comfortably relaxed by her couch. she had been pacing to and fro behind him, humming, distracted in the kitchen. he could smell the coffee she had been enjoying when the chime of the bell had interrupted this quiet peace. had she been expecting guests, perhaps magnus? pulling himself to his feet, he sped a hand through his tousled hair and exhaled. ❛❛ i'll get it. ❜❜  and yet, by the time he had, he wished he had stayed put; opening the door, a strange and unfamiliar pair of eyes stared back at him. they were blue, he realised through his foggy sight, and looked concerned at the sight of him.

his eyes dropped low. in the stranger's hands were a patch of flowers he had retained enough sense about living customs to know, weren't exchanged between friends. then he was speaking, albeit awkwardly : uh, sorry? is tessa home? he bit back another exhale, clicking his tongue softly. if he felt the sting of dejection at all, he was beyond showing it. of course she is, he said, and hadn't needed to ask what their purpose was here. inside, her voice rose up too. who's at the door?

jem stopped short where tessa could see him, shrugging on his jacket as the stranger — her guest or suitor — stopped beside him with a wince. ❛❛ thanks for the tea, i'll be off. ❜❜  and here was the rudeness that was so unlike him, that it would have startled charlotte, or even tessa. that he had departed without asking for a name of her guest, or politely introducing himself as he ought to have, when a dull and unfriendly glance had been all he wished to leave behind.

[skinclocks]

glamoured tessa looking at herself in the mirror. seeing herself but knowing that will never be her. in fact, it is just a guess at how she would look if aged, she wonders and wonders with no answer or truth. the pain in her stomach realizing she'll always look the same, unmoved, unchanging. tessa seeing beauty in aging when looking at the loved ones around her, always complimenting their laughter lines, but never seeing such beauty upon her own skin...

[skinclocks]

Le Comte de Monte-Cristo (2024) Directed by Matthew Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière