#00sgoth

[wihlted]

for posterity

[solitudefears]

❛ ten bucks for that piece of crap? ❜ — @00sgoth

her eyes widened as she watched him lift the delicate deer figurine, her breath hitching as she swiftly snatched it from his grasp, setting it carefully back on her vanity. ❛ stop it. ❜ she murmured, her voice quiet yet firm. ten dollars for such a small figurine— ridiculous, really, but there was something about them, something undeniably charming. she could never resist.

the weight of the moment settled over her as she stood there, uneasy. she had never invited anyone she knew into her room before, and it showed. her fingers twitched, her shoulders tensed— she was a nervous wreck, and doubt was creeping in faster than she could push it away. ❛ what… did you want to talk about? ❜ she finally asked, though the uncertainty in her voice made it sound more like a plea than a question.

[0fbabylon-a]

Madonna drops frosty ice cubes into the glass mixer currently plugged into the great marble slab of island in the middle of her kitchen.  It wasn't her taste  —the island,  nor the marble.   (  ...  )  Her husband was a brutalist.  Her hatred for him was a white-hot bullet lodged in her unbeating chest.  Though he did not live in this cliffside bungalow,  he owned it  —and he owned her,  so she was stuck with a fucking slab of white marble and an annoyingly modern kitchen sink,  among other bullshit.  She tosses another several ice cubes in the blender,  long acrylics tapping against ice and glass until the mixer is full. 

And then she grabs the Jose Cuervo.  That's to her left.  Across from her,  a fairly ostentatious bouquet of purple orchids and birds of paradise taking up the entire side of the island.  Big.  A fucking fixture.  And a box of French pastries  —variety-style.  Not from her piece-of-shit husband.  To her right?  There's Ian.  She's not sure how or when he actually got here,  but it was about a pitcher ago.  

She was fairly taken aback,  seeing him standing in her doorway.  Her pool wasn't even due to be cleaned.  But she'd let him in,  anyway  —which was pretty fucking insane of her,  though she chose not to blame herself.  He'd showed up two margaritas in.  She was curious to see what he wanted.  (  ... )  And he looked good.  Was she allowed to say that?  She must be.  He did,  does.  Donna thinks he's cute,  likes his company.  She tips the bottle of silver tequila into the blender,  followed by a splash of mix  —not too much.  Ian speaks up,  drawing her attention. 

@00sgoth said:   ❛  It's just Valentine's Day... I don't see the big deal.  ❛

Glossy eyes glimmer,  looking between Ian and where Ian's vivid blue eyes are drawn  —the bouquet,  the open box of pastries barely picked at.  For a moment,  she feels a strike of humor.  Her tweeze eyebrows raise in the other's direction,  hands busy cutting fat limes against the naked counter.  She'd do anything and everything to spoil the integrity of this fucking counter.  She hates it that much.

   ❛   Really?  ❛   Madonna answers in her soft voice,  all cigarettes and milk.  Her hair is dark,  curled inward and piled atop of her head so it tumbles down her back in messy strands,  framing the pale loveliness of her face.  (  ...  )  Her laugh causes these strands to shake,  briefly.   ❛   I guess I'm not surprised.  You seem way too cool for Valentine's Day.  ❛   She's teasing him,  corners of her hooded eyes sparking.  He's young,  she thinks.  She knows.  Donna isn't even sure if she should offer him a margarita ( she will ). 

The witch-woman squeezes two lime halves into the blender,  citrus dripping from the puckering rind.  

❛  But it's nice,  I think.  To have a holiday for love.  There's a holiday for everything else.  Why not?  ❛   Her voice is light,  casual,  as she drops the rinds to the side carelessly and struggles to fix the lid onto her blender.  Fucking thing.   ❛  And I get the best gifts.  Do you want a macaron?  ❛

[tmrrwppl]

“They want… $60 for these pants? These are ugly as shit.” Killian had mentioned TRIPP was the new style of pants. And lord have mercy John thought they were the ugliest things. And they’d rip too easy, this fabric was like paper. “I’d be better off getting JNCOs, at least they last longer than three washes.”

He was probably talking to himself but better than in his head where he was sure Killian would hear him on the other side of the mall— and summarily come marching over to beat his ass.

@00sgoth gets this for lulz.

[wihltedmoved]

@00sgoth : please take care of yourself, i wanna keep you for a long time.

true sincerity is a scarce resource, and at the sight of it, serena's nerves tighten ❪  ITS FIGHT OR FLIGHT, AND SHE'S JUST A LITTLE BIRD  ❫ into bundles. what? what do you mean? serena watches ian's long fingers untie her pointe shoes, slipping them off of her feet to reveal bright purple and blue bruises on her pale skin. this is the price of perfection. this is an athlete's dedication with an artist's obsession.

her cheeks flush a soft pink as he does so ; it's embarrassing to be laid bare in front of him like this. she lets him snap the floss she uses to sew her shoes to her tights, and then remove the bandages that are protectively wrapped around her toes.

it feels like letting him take her armor off, these final shields from the rest of the world. what does she have, if not tulle and slippers and manners?

❛     i'll try.     ❜ this, too, is an undressing. ❛     thank you for coming . . . i didn't think you would.     ❜

˗ˏˋ ꒰ TEXT INSPIRED ꒱ ˎˊ˗

[lightwxlkr]

{ me casually watching @00sgoth from afar like }

[deadph0bic]

@00sgoth sent in: "don't stop, fuck, please don't stop-"

she doesn't really know how she's gotten in this position. hell, if you told siobhan she'd be on her knees for the goth boy that worked at the blockbuster? she'd probably laugh in your face. mainly because ian had always been so unpleasant towards her. no matter what she did, he always had some kind of comment. some kind of insult. though, that seems to have stopped, hasn't it? more so just friendly banter, teasing. siobhan hated to admit that she liked ian as much as she did.

manicured fingers wrap around his length, stroking leisurely as her tongue drags around the head of his cock. she'll lower her head, taking him into her mouth, blue eyes glancing upwards at him. she'll let out a little hum, sending vibrations through him. she'll bob her head, free hand coming to grab at his hip. she'll pull away, making a soft 'pop' noise with her mouth as she does so, her hand still stroking him.

she'll smile, lips slick with saliva and lip gloss. "just don't get cum in my hair, okay, baby?"

[devilscheck]

@00sgoth gets a fun little halloween thing !

"Trick or treat-" she hummed as she leaned in his doorway, her head tilted back against the frame. There was a Twizzler in her mouth that she took a bite of before she offered it his way. "Be careful what you pick, I heard this totally rad band is doing a secret show and I was going to invite you-" her manicured nail poked into his chest, her brows raised teasingly toward him. Jennifer loved an excuse to go out on Halloween, the perfect time to show off a costume in her own charm. "Unless you were planning to TOTALLY be buzzkill city tonight."

[secondhandmckie]

"Got a light?"

Her voice comes from the side of him, from her spot against the side of the house. Molly wiggles her cigarette, as though he might need further clarification. It's likely that's the reason he's out here too, isn't it? Rather than continuing to weave through the party like a black (and blue) cloud of doom. She gets it; it's not her scene really, either. It was rough being the newer face in town, trying to figure out who was worth the effort of, at the very least, minimal conversation.

By the time she asks the question, she's already sized him up and deemed him acceptable. Well, enough, anyway.

"My lighter's fucked." @00sgoth | (starter)

[g0dforb1d]

|| closed starter w/ maria & ian ||

@00sgoth

It was a little silly having a boyfriend that was younger (even if it's only a year or two), there was something funny about having to pick him up from his parents house so he could stay over at her apartment.

This was the first time Ian was supposed to stay for the whole week because Maria was on spring break from her constant college classes. The idea made her skin crawl in the most positive way, she was excited to have her boyfriend with her every day all day. It was spring time and Maria had gotten some new sampler CDs from the local mall which meant that they could spend the night sitting on her little balcony while drinking and listening to music.

First, however, she had to pick him up. ...She didn't have to but she preferred it, she loved driving him around because Ian was her little baby that she couldn't help but coddle.

So, there she sat on a phone book to look over the large steering wheel of her old El Camino as she honked her horn to signal to him that she was here to save him from his suburbian boredom

[winterbeheaded]

😈 💭 hehe

put  😈 💭  in  my  ask  and  my  muse  will  admit  one  dirty  thought  they’ve  had  about  yours.

i wonder how many fingers he could fit inside of me .. two isn't enough. god.. i want all of them. and i want to see his face while i stretch around them, in awe of how good i am, how well i can take him.

[praybird]

@00sgoth: send “🌿🍒” (or "mistletoe") for my muse's reaction to standing under a mistletoe with your muse.

the video store, of all places, seems like a rather funny setting for this. someone here must have a sense of humor, teddy thinks as she looks up at the decor. tucked under her arm is a stack of dvds - the first three of the silent night, deadly night series - not her favourite series by any means, but she's feeling uncharacteristically festive. the store clerk is next to her; a skinny, awkward looking thing tucked beneath an edgy outer layer. she knows that type well - the sort of boys she flirted with at high school parties, but never bothered to go any further with. there's always something about those types. how easily pliable they are, eager to get her attention, her affection. this one, however, hasn't looked at her yet. nor has he seemed to have taken note of the mistletoe hanging above. simply won't do.

teddy slides closer, knocking her shoulder against the clerk's to get him to turn. a soft little smile, deceptively innocent, twitches at the corners of her mouth. "hey," her fingers find his forearm, tracing delicate lines all the way up to his shoulder. it's all a cruel game to her, see how far she can get twisted before it gets boring. it's not boring just yet. "i think you gotta kiss me. it's the rules." it does occur to her how comical it is - rules never really apply to teddy until it's a situation that serves to entertain her.

she doesn't wait for a response. leaning forward, her hand catches hold of his collar, and pulls him towards her face. she kisses him ever so sweet and softly - generous on her part, she thinks, he may never get another chance with a girl like her ever again. teddy pulls away with a wicked smile, her hand still latched on momentarily, a moment too long, before she lets him go. "cute," her smile twitches again; she turns back to the display shelves, as if nothing ever happened.

[0fbabylon-a]

@00sgoth just did her a huge favor !

HE DIDN'T DO A BAD JOB,  MADONNA THINKS  —raising the weight of her tortoiseshell sunglasses so her eyes might study the crystalline surface of her swimming pool.  Not bad at all!  Not when palm tree fronds and dead bugs once littered the salt-water.  Long lashes kiss the flushed apples of her cheeks.  It was a hot day,  even for Malibu  —and she had been stretched out upon the length of a sun-warmed daybed,  metal tumbler at her side  —magazine being used,  lazily,  to fan her flushing throat  —the underside of her jaw,  the generous swell of her cleavage trapped in the deep plunge of a black Saint Laurent halter swimsuit.  She doesn't mind the scorching heat,  cold-blooded as she is  —dark hair piled atop her head and pale skin singing with warmth.  

She sets her oversized sunglasses back in place after inspecting the pool.  The curve of her full,  wine-red mouth draws into a simper  —pleasure indicated,  a job well done.  Abra's friend,  Ian,  spent double the amount of time her usual pool guy spent tending to the water.  An admirable work ethic indeed.  She watches Ian now as he steps toward her,  gaze lingering before she lowers her eyes back to the pages of her magazine.

    ❛   You should let me pay you.  ❛   Her voice is small,  husky. She doesn't look up from her magazine immediately. National Geographic.  Donna tucks a long lock of hair behind her ear  —dark eyes peer,  playfully,  from over the top of her sunglasses.   ❛   You did a good job. All that hard work deserves somethin'.   ❛

[ourcarvedsins]

her tired feet keep walking in the same direction; they insist they're leading her somewhere where she can find some peace of mind, and she accepts that fate. she desires to discover something like that in her lifetime. in the meantime, amanda has to face life as it is and pray the throbbing pain in her head goes away. she left the party early, or should she say, they made her leave. arriving at the place with hopes for a great night and leaving with a black eye and fewer friends.

way to go, amanda.

the sound of thunder startled her and made her jump a little. soon, the rain would be pouring down, so she better hurry up and choose one store to find shelter in. she didn't even look up to see where she stepped in. her hand reached for the door, and she went without thinking twice about it. 

" a video rental store? so they're still a thing, huh . . . "

she noticed someone who she suspected was an employee ( @00sgoth ) and evaded eye contact. hiding her injured eye with strands of hair, she headed towards the other end of the store as fast as possible. 

[wihltedmoved]

୨♡୧ , @00sgoth

can ian sense the way serena is staring a hole into the side of his head? right through his skull into his brain, trying to unravel his thoughts like a spool of yarn? she twists her ring around her finger in the passenger seat of his car, his music louder than the thrumming of her hummingbird heart. his car smells like vanilla perfume and weed, something interesting that serena has come to... not hate.

[deadph0bic]

@00sgoth sent in: ❛ you look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way. ❜

she's wearing her white platform sandals, low waisted jeans and a pink crop top with the playboy bunny symbol on it. if you look really closely, you can see a faded playboy bunny tan line on her hip. of course, she has a very fashionable chunky belt. she hears a familiar voice, causing her to spin around with a look of horror on her face. "---...ian!!!" she'll call out, a whine in her voice as she crosses her arms tightly against her chest. suddenly, she's self conscious. she'll huff, shifting on her feet before she looks over him.

"at least i don't---....at least i don't look like the crypt keeper! or that scary guy with the needles sticking out of his head and face!" do you mean pinhead, siobhan?