#❝ THE SKIN IT PEELS LIKE TRUTH AWAY ( AESTHETIC. ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magickastiel · 2 years

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'ANGELIC THREADS' (2.3k)

(no warnings, just sam & cas bff truthing, background destiel & saileen 💜)

summary: Cas gifts Sam a new workout set for his birthday with mixed results. Dean also tries to be a pain in the ass, but only manages to screw himself over.

snippet:

“Cas,” Sam begins tentatively, because the angel is still beaming at him. “Is this a crop top?”

“It was described as having a ‘slightly cropped hem’. I also read that cropped tops are very fashionable. And I imagine they are excellent at keeping the body cooler as you run due to increased airflow around your abdomen. The shorts are also very ‘on trend’.” Cas says, apparently unable to wait for Sam to get to them. He holds them up for him. “They are - ”

“Cycling shorts.” Sam says, because of course they are.

ao3 or keep reading! ⬇️

It’s 5:30am so Sam, sleep-soft and muzzy, doesn’t expect anyone to be standing as quiet and solid as a statue in the kitchen. In total darkness.

Surprisingly, someone is. Less surprisingly, that person is Cas.

Sam almost jumps out of his skin when he rounds the corner. Then he huffs and flicks on the light. “Cas! Man, you can’t…” He sighs, feeling slightly more amused as the shock quickly wears off. “You made me jump.”

“My apologies.” Cas says easily, sounding genuine but also unbothered.

Sam eyes him suspiciously as he wanders over to the kitchen counter and pulls out the blender to get his smoothie ready for after his jog.

“I have already made your post-run smoothie. It’s in the fridge.”

“You - ” Sam frowns, turning back to the angel who still stands firm in his spot. “Uh, thanks. Why? Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you don’t usually - ”

“Many happy returns on your birthday, Sam!” Cas bursts suddenly, like he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Oh.” Sam smiles, feeling strangely touched. He’d expect Cas to get this worked up about Dean’s birthday but not his. “Thanks, Cas.”

“You remember I made Dean breakfast on his birthday?”

“Uh, yeah.” He tries not to wince, recalling the blare of fire alarms and thick smoke billowing along the hallways. “That was…”

“A minor disaster.” Cas agrees. “So I thought a smoothie would be more appropriate.”

“And safer.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” Sam reaches out and claps him on the shoulder, feeling a bubble of affection for the angel. He mentally vows to drink the whole thing even if it tastes like mouldy kale. “Seriously, it’s really nice of you. I’m gonna get ready for my run - ”

“I have a present, too!” Cas cuts across him.

“You do?” Sam frowns, intrigued and slightly suspicious. He glances around to check that this isn’t some sort of trick, that Dean isn’t tucked away around the corner giggling.

But no, it’s just the two of them. And Sam suspects that, while Dean would undoubtedly love to prank him in some tediously childish way, he won’t be committed enough to get up at 5:30am to do it.

Cas picks up a neatly wrapped present from the table and hands it to him.

“Happy birthday, Sam. I hope you like it.”

He takes one last look at Cas, who seems more excited than he is, before he grins and gently peels open the colourful wrapping paper.

His eyes widen when he sees the familiar Nike logo staring up at him from a pile of carefully folded clothes. He looks back up at Cas. “Dude - ”

“I know you said you needed new running clothes.” Cas says, puffing up with pride at his choice. “I did some research regarding popular activewear brands and Nike were considered some of the most desirable.”

“This is awesome!” Sam hurriedly places the present back on the table, picking up the folded top. It’s an attractive sage green with a slight hint of blue and the logo and brand name are in white. The whole design is modern and clean; practical while still being aesthetically pleasing. He unfolds the top and his smile slips slightly. He starts to feel the first tug of dread behind his navel.

The top is a vest which, while not being his usual choice, is not inherently a problem. However, the length is…short. Very short.

“Cas,” Sam begins tentatively, because the angel is still beaming at him. “Is this a crop top?”

Sam swallows, turning the top around in his hands. It feels tiny. It might be slightly cropped on the feminine figures it was designed for but on him it would probably end up just below his pecs.

“The shorts are also very ‘on trend’.” Cas says, apparently unable to wait for Sam to get to them. He holds them up for him. “They are - ”

“Cycling shorts.” Sam says because of course they are.

“Yes.” Cas smiles, showing a hint of pearly teeth. “I did question if they would still be appropriate for running but Dean said they would be fine.”

Sam prickles with annoyance. “ Dean said?”

“Yes.” Cas says again. “He assured me this set would be useful for you.”

Sam huffs out an irritated laugh. “Yeah, I bet he did.” He perches on the end of the table and crosses his arms, the top tucking against his elbow. “Look, Cas…I think Dean encouraged you to get this just to make me look stupid.”

“Oh.” For the first time, Cas’ smile slips. He lowers the cycling shorts and looks at them with a crinkle in his brow. “I see.”

The silence echoes around the kitchen and Sam feels strangely guilty. And he hates Dean for that. Cas was so damn excited to give him this, so happy to give Sam something he thought he would love and use everyday. Instead, Dean had to turn it into a cheap joke about wearing ‘girly’ stuff. Sam grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches.

“I did wonder…” Cas is quiet, still staring forlornly at the shorts. “It suggested that this product was for women but I wasn’t sure it mattered.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter to some people, but…” Sam cuts himself off, frowning. He reaches out and brushes a finger along the hem of the crop top, mind whirring.

“It matters to you.” Cas sighs, gently folding the cycling shorts. “I understand. Please accept my apologies. I find human ideas of gender difficult to understand. To some they are very binary, but to others, they are very fluid concepts.”

Sam slowly picks up the top. “Yeah.” The word sticks in his throat. “You know what? Maybe - maybe I don’t care.”

Cas smiles again but it looks forced. “You are being kind, Sam. There is no need to placate me. I can return these items easily. Perhaps you could pick out something you would like instead?”

He reaches for the top but Sam curls his fingers around it, feeling strangely protective of it. “No, really. I think…I think I wanna try it on.” He swallows. “If you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. They are yours, Sam. If you truly want them.” Cas’ face softens.

He smiles. “I think I might.”

And he does.

He stares in the mirror for a while in the privacy of his own room.

He thinks that he actually looks kinda…good. The cycling shorts are incredibly comfortable; the soft, firm stretch of the fabric feels like his thighs are getting more support than they usually do. The waistband is thick and stays exactly where he puts it, no matter how he moves. The crop top stretches in a rather flattering way across his shoulders and exposes a generous amount of his lean and toned stomach.

It doesn’t make him feel masculine but it doesn’t make him feel particularly feminine either. He just feels good. Like himself.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Sam?” Cas sounds nervous, like a mother waiting outside for her daughter to step out in her wedding dress. “Do you like it?”

He wanders over to the door and pulls it open. He beams and immediately, Cas beams right back.

“Cas, I…I actually love it! It’s soft, and stretchy and it feels great. And, honestly, I think it looks pretty cool!”

“Sam, you look wonderful.” Cas says, unashamedly honest as always. “The design of the top is a particular success, I think. It simultaneously manages to show off your strong shoulders and your toned abdominal muscles, both enviable traits.”

Sam almost blushes. Is this what Dean feels like all the time? No wonder he sulks everytime Cas leaves. “Thanks, Cas. I really appreciate you getting this for me.” Sam draws him into a hug and Cas wraps his arms around him easily, giving his back a few little pats before they part.

“It’s no problem. I am only sorry that I didn’t realise Dean wasn’t being sincere when he offered to help.”

“Well,” Sam looks back into the mirror and sees himself smiling. “That definitely backfired on him.”

Sam returns from his run with sweat dripping from his brow but he’s still got a smile on his face. He’s eager to report back to Cas, to give him the excellent news that his new running outfit works brilliantly as well as looking fantastic.

As he wanders down the hallway, he can hear Dean’s voice, still a little sleep-addled.

“- just a joke, Cas. Sammy can take it.”

Sam slows down, lingering just outside the kitchen. He stops his running playlist on his phone and tucks his earbuds into his pocket, listening.

“Well, I didn’t find it very funny, Dean.” Cas sounds pissed . His tone is clipped and cold, like he’s crossing his arms and looking the other way. Sam almost snorts at the idea.

“Oh, come on.” Dean says, and Sam hears the scrape of a chair and sound of Dean’s slippers shuffling on the hard floor. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just a - ”

“Joke, yes, you said.” Cas huffs. “Thankfully, Sam liked the outfit anyway.”

“He…wait, what?”

“Yeah, I like it anyway.” Sam wanders in, smirking when Dean jumps. “So your little plan failed.”

Dean’s guffaws when he sees him. “I dunno, Sammy. You still look pretty funny to me.”

“Dean.” Cas snaps. “Sam likes his outfit. And so do I.”

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam grins, wandering over the fridge to get the smoothie Cas made for him. He takes a sip. Yep, disgusting . Apparently Cas can pick out excellent clothes but he should never be allowed anywhere near food prep. “ We like it. Cas said it shows off my shoulders and abs.”

Sam watches with delight as Dean’s brain visibly shuts down and reboots. “He what?”

“I said ,” Cas begins, wearily, missing that Dean meant that he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, not that he hadn’t heard it in the first place. “The top shows off Sam’s abs and shoulders. Both are excellent and surely that is the purpose of many clothes? To show off one’s best features.”

“R-right.” Dean is now looking between them with a pale face.

Sam grins and takes another sip of revolting smoothie.

“When’s your birthday, Cas?” Sam asks casually, ignoring Dean opening and closing his mouth blankly.

“I don’t have an official birth date. I was created before time itself, of course.”

That never fails to blow Sam’s mind. His friend, eons old, is standing in their kitchen talking about his new running outfit. “Well, why don’t you choose a date?”

“Oh.” Cas considers. “Perhaps September 18th? It marks the date I came to Earth and walked among humans again. And met Dean, of course.”

Just to add to Sam’s delight, Dean’s floundering continues only now there’s a hint of redness to the back of his neck too.

“September 18th it is.” Sam takes another drink and tries not to wince. “Maybe I can get you an outfit like this too? I know you were talking about getting into fitness while your grace is waning a little.”

Dean actually splutters. He tries to discreetly look over Sam’s outfit and then looks at Cas’ body, obviously imagining the top and shorts on the angel instead. Sam barely hides his glee as he continues.

“I think you’d look great in cycling shorts, Cas. Your thighs are thicker than mine, so they’d really grip tight.”

The back of Dean’s neck practically glows.

Cas, totally oblivious, mulls this over. “That would be interesting. The shorts do appeal to me but the top, less so. I suspect Dean would look wonderful in the cropped top.”

“Uh, hahaha no. No, no, no way.” Dean is laughing but he looks almost terrified rather than amused. “No way. I don’t have Sam’s stupid abs or your…thick…muscly…thighs. I’m just…I’m not wearing a crop top, ok?!”

“Ok Dean.” Cas smiles placatingly. “If you don't want to, that's fine too, of course.”

“Right.” Dean huffs.

“Totally.” Sam nods.

“You look wonderful in whatever you wear.” Cas adds, unnecessarily. “Even those flannels.”

Dean looks like he’s on the verge of fainting like a lady in one of those period dramas. Sam almost laughs smoothie out of his nose.

“I…Cas, you can’t just say…” Dean looks pleading at Sam. “You gotta tell him, man. You can’t - ”

Sam just holds his hands up. “Sorry, no can do. The way I see it, Cas is just expressing his opinion. And honestly, I respect it. He bought me this outfit that I would never have chosen and I love it. So maybe he’s the only one outta all of us with good opinions about clothes.”

He downs the rest of his smoothie and swills out the cup, nodding at Cas. “Thanks, for the smoothie.”

Cas gives him an awkward thumbs up. “Anytime.”

Sam pulls his phone out as he leaves the kitchen, chuckling at the sound of Dean trying to explain to Cas why he’s been bright red for the past ten minutes.

Sam pulls up the camera on his phone and snaps a few pictures of himself. The lighting isn’t great and the angle’s a little awkward but a few of them come out pretty decently. He sends them to Eileen with the message:

Cas got me this exercise set for my birthday and I actually kind of love it. Am I crazy??

His phone pings before he even gets back to his room.

Yeah, crazy HOT!!! Tell Dean I’ll be back in time for the birthday meal he’s secretly cooking you.

And you’d BETTER be wearing that little crop top when I get there

He grins and opens his bedroom door. He takes one last look at the outfit before peeling it off and grabbing his towel to get in the shower.

He makes for the door and then pauses. He grabs his phone and starts typing. Nike crop top and cycling shorts set.

No harm in seeing if they make it in any more colours. And maybe he’ll get one for Cas too.

thank you for reading!🥰

#happy birthday sam winchester #sam winchester #castiel #sam and cas bff truthing #destiel #saileen #dean winchester #eileen leahy #spnmine #mkfic

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kevinsreviewcatalogue · 1 year

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Review: Dark City (1998)

Dark City (1998)

Rated R for violent images and some sexuality

Score: 4 out of 5

Dark City is a film that failed at the box office in its time and, despite a critical reevaluation as one of the hidden science fiction gems of the '90s, still gets overlooked quite often nowadays, for one simple reason: despite its mind-bending plot and creative visual design homaging classic '40s/'50s film noir, it had the misfortune of coming out just a year before The Matrix, a sci-fi masterpiece with very similar themes about what we think of as reality being just an illusion designed to control us. This film was a much more cerebral thriller whose effects shots, while no less visually impressive, were a lot less punchy and action-packed, instead feeling like if the first half-hour of The Matrix got stretched to feature length, given a retro gloss, and focused mainly on Keanu Reeves slowly peeling away the layers of his world, saving the big action sequence for the very end. It's a moody, foreboding film that built up to a great reveal while slowly imbuing the viewer with a paranoid suspicion that their own world may not be "right", and while the finale wrapped things up a bit too neatly and conventionally for my tastes with a rather silly-looking confrontation, the meat of the film was still a slick and highly effective tale that I won't forget anytime soon -- ironic, given what the villains here like to do to people.

The film takes place in an unnamed city with vaguely mid-20th-century technology, aesthetics, and feel, specifically the kind lifted out of a Raymond Chandler novel, a place where the streets are always cloaked in shadows even during what feels like it should be the daytime -- and hey, while you may have childhood memories of sunny days, when's the last time you saw the sun, anyway? We start with a man who wakes up in a hotel room with no memory, only figuring out that his name is John Murdoch from the ID in his wallet, surrounded by the corpses of dead prostitutes that he probably killed, which is not a situation that most of us would want to stick around for so they can calmly explain everything to the police. On the run from the law and searching for both Emma, a cabaret singer who he finds out was his wife, and Dr. Daniel Schreber, who he finds out used to be his psychiatrist, John gets pulled into a twisted web as he's pursued by the Strangers, mysterious, inhumanly pale-skinned men in hats and trenchcoats who he soon finds aren't entirely human, and who seem to control the city from the shadows and regard him as a threat to their plans. Meanwhile, Inspector Frank Bumstead sets out hot on the tail of the suspected murderer, not knowing exactly what he's getting himself into.

I can't really go into much more detail about the plot. Like a lot of old-fashioned mysteries, this is a movie where part of the fun is piecing the puzzle together yourself and then the film revealing how close you came to the truth, albeit one that puts a sci-fi twist on the usual noir story. I can, however, speak to the production values and writer/director Alex Proyas' sense of style, and on that front, I was at once pulled into the film's world and wondering what awful truths lay outside it. The city is the kind of seedy place you'd set a hardboiled detective story, exaggerated to the point where it feels like a warped parody thereof and creating an unsettling feel that this place should not be. Some of the supporting cast members having spotty American accents (this was shot in Australia), something I'd normally ding a film for, only lent to the uncanny valley feel of the city, as did countless other little quirks that made the place feel like somebody trying to draw a picture of a mid-century East Coast metropolis without any reference points as to what that would look like beyond old movies. And that's before you get to the Strangers who are after John, who wear conspicuous trenchcoats and have names like "Mr. Book", "Mr. Hand", and "Mr. Sleep" that sound like somebody tried to come up with ordinary-sounding "John Smith" names to blend in and... didn't pull it off, on top of their general weirdness and stilted manner of speaking calling to mind the G-Man from Half-Life. While it takes a while to get to the "why" of the titular dark city, the film lets you know rather quickly that this is not a normal city, and even before we get to the big special effects shots, Proyas did a great job right off the bat heightening its artifice and pale imitation of humanity. More than anything, it felt like I was watching the darkest possible film adaptation of The Sims, predating the first game by a couple of years but otherwise, without spoiling anything, taking some of the series' central concepts and playing them for paranoid horror.

The cast also did great in making this world feel just the right mix of real and artificial. Rufus Sewell as John, Jennifer Connelly as Emma, and William Hurt as Bumstead all felt like they could've been lifted out of a real 1940s film noir, while Kiefer Sutherland played Schreber as a character wholly unlike the take-charge heroes he's been coded as since 24, a dweebish doctor who serves as the main characters' bridge between the world they know and what's really going on through his exposition. The special effects were not the focus, but they were astonishing to watch for a fairly low-budgeted '90s film, especially a key sequence where we witness the city's buildings shifting around as the Strangers' true power over the city is made clear. Only at the very end did it feel like Proyas ran out of ideas, as John's final confrontation with the Strangers after unlocking his true power ended with them shooting beams of light at each other with their minds while buildings crumbled around them. It all felt pretty goofy, like they needed to find a way to wrap this up and have the hero prevail, even though if I was writing this, there are some seriously dark directions I could've taken the story. The ending, I feel, underlines the big reason why The Matrix was the big late '90s sci-fi movie about reality being a lie that everybody remembers; when it did similar battles between the good guys and bad guys, they came in the form of epic shootouts and martial arts sequences straight out of Hong Kong.

The Bottom Line

Dark City is a film that doesn't get talked up nearly enough, even if I can't really say much more in a non-spoiler review. Ending aside, it makes a great companion to The Matrix as a more cerebral and noir-tinged take on very similar concepts, one that will, at the very least, make it very difficult for you to play The Sims the same way again. A big thank you to Popcorn Frights for screening it last week. Check it out.

#dark city #1998 #1998 movies #science fiction #mystery #crime movies #sci fi movies #alex proyas #rufus sewell #kiefer sutherland #william hurt #jennifer connelly #richard o'brien #ian richardson #melissa george

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acecorvid · 3 years

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Hurts Me To Watch You Fading [Spideypool Fic]

Was going through the prompts that have been in my inbox for AGES when I got a sudden burst of inspiration to write my boys again. So even though it’s been *looks at watch* nearly two years fuck since I’ve written fanfic... here’s some hurt/comfort for y’all (or if you’d rather read on ao3)

Anon asks: Hi! I just read your fic with peter being super adorable in his deadpool hoodie and saw you're taking prompts. Seeing as you're asexual (like me!) I was wondering if you would write asexual peter having to explain to wade that he doesn't initiate sex because it's just not something he really thinks about much and not because of how wade looks

(Content warning for Wade being self-conscious about his body/scars)

Somehow Wade always found his way to Peter’s dorm room at the end of a long hard day of work. Which for Wade meant an early morning raid ending with several dead bodies, including his own a few times, but by the end Wade was in one piece and his suit was in less pieces and all the bad guys were dead. Next he needed to get all the blood out of his suit earning him another blank look of disappointment from his local definitely-not-a-front dry cleaners. They never questioned his circumstances and he didn’t much care what they got up to as long as people weren’t dying, leaving them with a silent, mutually beneficial relationship.

Now he was in Parker’s dorm wearing comfy jeans and a hoodie that mostly covered his face if he lowered his head, something he did quite often. He didn’t entirely mind his appearance anymore, having gotten used to freaking himself out in mirrors the past few years. But it was other people’s reactions that made him feel like crap. The looks of disgust strangers gave him as he passed, the people who grabbed their kids and moved to the other side of the street, the ones who laughed at and mocked him hit a little too close to his time being experimented on. Sure he could easily use humor more efficiently than the assholes who mocked him to put them in their place but humor as a defense mechanism only went so far and the hurt still went deep.

What was getting to him lately was his relationship with Peter. They had officially started dating several months ago, even if they had been flirting heavily on the random patrols as Spider-Man and Deadpool. But then Peter told him his secret identity and kissed him through his mask so tenderly and Wade didn’t think he could be more in love. Except they hadn’t gotten much further than tender kisses or cuddles. Not that Wade minded, it was comforting to be held the way Peter held him. He’d never had someone who he could truly let his guard down around, who was okay with him being soft and quiet.

But every time they started to makeout, to get to the hot and heavy stuff, Peter would carefully untangle them, change the subject, shy away from any skin being shown, and they would watch cartoons or get food or anything other than being that kind of intimate with Wade.

Not that he minded at first, Peter was a shy dude. He wasn’t like so many college guys who partied all the time and hooked up with whoever. He was a shy nerd and he was a superhero on the downlow, of course he wouldn’t have time for that but he also didn’t have any interest in it either. But Wade was starting to feel like Peter didn’t have any interest in him.

Staring at himself in Peter’s mirror sans mask told him exactly why someone would have no interest in getting hot and heavy and naked with him. He’s had that many times. Flirting with a girl at the supermarket only for her to freakout once he peeled his mask up, hitting on a guy in a dark bar only for him to be disgusted once they moved into the light. It was a common occurrence for him. He thought Peter would be different. He was different. He didn’t shy away when Wade took his mask off and kissed him, but maybe he was good at faking it? Maybe he could deal with his face but the rest of his body was too much. His skin was rough and patchy, awful to look at and even less appealing to touch.

He rubbed his hand over his face and head, shaking off his hood to get a good look at the mess he usually hid from most people. Everyone had their limits. Perhaps this was Parker’s.

The key in the door alerted Wade to Peter’s return. Quickly he pulled his hood back up and retreated to the bed, ducking his head just as Peter walked in through the door. He looked somewhat surprised, but he relaxed immediately.

“Hey,” Peter said softly. A smile tugged at his lips as he closed the door gently behind him.

He seemed pleased to see Wade. Genuinely content with having him in his room. Nothing was matching up in Wade’s mind.

“Hey Peter…” Wade started but trailed off before he could ask the question. He hated being in this position. He wished he could know the truth. For Peter to tell him he was disgusted by his wrecked body without prompting so he could crawl back to his old life and forget about this magical interlude.

But Peter being Peter, he noticed something was off immediately. “What’s wrong? You almost never call me Peter, did something happen?”

He was closer now, trying to get a good look at Wade’s face but Wade angled his face away. That got him a sigh but Peter respected his boundaries and stepped away, leaning against the wall instead.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Wade shook his head, nodded, and then shook his head again. Screw Peter for being such a good guy, a respectful person, such a sweetheart. It was ruining what his brain was hooked on as the clear truth. Maybe Peter wasn’t disgusted with him but what else could it be?

“I’m not really pleasant to look at, huh?” Wade said instead, unable to confront Peter directly.

Peter pushed off the wall but stopped himself from coming closer. “Did someone say that to you?”

He sounded angry, on Wade’s behalf. Once again messing with Wade’s doubts.

“All the time, but that’s not-” Wade chewed his lip, took a deep breath, and took the plunge.

He took his mask off, revealing his unmasked face and head. Peter didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. He was frowning a bit but not at Wade’s appearance it seemed. It wasn’t as though this was the first time Peter saw his face but it wasn’t a common thing between them. Wade preferred to simply roll up his mask most of the time for their kisses, not wanting to feel too self-conscious.

“Do you- are you-” Wade hated this feeling, wishing he could go back to witty one-liners and existential statements that bewildered those around him. Feelings did terrible things to his dialogue. “I know I look like ground up hamburger meat, Petey. I’m a big boy, you can tell me the truth if you think I’m too gross.”

Wade was aiming for humor, swerved into something a little more bitter, and he cursed himself for putting that hurt look on Peter’s face.

“Wade I don’t think-” Peter started, he furrowed his brows and moved closer but slowly, as though Wade would run away if he was startled. Not a bad call. Wade was pretty close to bolting actually. But Peter crept close, slowly, and stopped a few paces away. Wade wanted him to come closer, stand right between his legs on the bed so Wade could pull him in close and hold him until he wasn’t upset. But he ruined that.

“We don’t do anything more than kissing. You never want to- I get it,” Wade laughed, tugging on his hoodie. “It’s not pretty under here Pete, no one ever wants to look at it. It won’t kill me if you tell me you don’t want to see it or touch me.” He wasn’t lying. It would hurt like hell but nothing could kill him. Unpleasant side-effects of looking the way he did.

Peter surprised him by doing exactly what Wade wanted. He moved closer, slotting himself between Wade’s legs and putting his hands on Wade’s shoulders to get him to look up.

“I’m such an idiot,” Peter mumbled, sounding mad at himself. Probably for not being able to hide his disgust, for making Wade realize exactly what was going on. Now he’d have to let Wade down. That’s simply the way the world worked for guys like him.

“I should have told you a while ago but, I dunno, I was scared I guess?”

Here it comes, Wade closed his eyes to brace himself for the impact.

“I don’t initiate anything more because I’m asexual. I don’t really, I dunno, have a lot of interest in sex? I mean maybe I could be if we talked about it but it’s never really on my mind. It’s got nothing to do with how you look, Wade. I like how you look just fine. I think you’re pretty cute, that’s part of why I’m dating you. Also your muscles are amazing, the general aesthetic of your body and you lifting me up? That’s about as close to sexual attraction as I’ve ever come.”

Wade felt his world tilt and it was entirely unexpected. “Wait you’re-” All of Wade’s otherworldly knowledge hadn’t prepared him for that possibility. That almost never happened.

Peter leaned down, bringing both his hands to cup Wade’s cheeks. “You’re not disgusting, Wade. And anyone who says that will get their mouth webbed shut.”

Wade nuzzled into Peter’s hand, “That’s not the best use of superhero powers.”

“I’m defending the innocent, hush it’s the perfect use of my powers.”

“Innocent?” Wade arched his brow, staring up at his boyfriend who actually wanted him.

“Okay, well… maybe not innocent in the traditional sense but you look the way you do because you survived, you fought through hell and you got out, and that’s pretty damn attractive.”

Wade wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling him in closer. Peter laughed, leaning in to kiss him soundly on the lips. “So, opening to talking about it?”

“Should have known you’d have a one track mind,” Peter huffed into the kiss. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I never wanted to make you feel like I wasn’t interested in you.”

Peter straddled Wade’s lap so they could cuddle more properly. His arms were around Wade’s back, holding him close like he always did then they were together. Holding him like something precious, like Peter was as surprised as Wade was that he could have something this tender.

“It’s okay. I did it to myself mostly. One track mind remember?”

“Are you um- are you okay with me being-?”

“Huh? Yeah of course I am. If you never want to have sex, also fine. I love you for more than how you look in spandex, Petey.” Wade pressed soft kisses along Peter’s shoulder to reassure him. He didn’t want to let this go, not when he thought it was going to be pulled out from under him just moments ago.

“I love you, too.” Peter whispered into Wade’s ear, his hands gripping his hoodie tighter.

It wasn’t exactly how Wade meant to tell him that, but with Peter whispering it back, not giving him a second to doubt himself, he was content with his slip up.

"You do look incredible in spandex, though." Wade grinned against Peter's neck.

Peter leaned into the touch, his voice taking on a more mischievous quality. "Oh I know, Wade. I know."

#arrawrites #spideypool #marvel #spfic #hurtcomfort #omg i wrote the fic that inspired this prompt back in 2017....#i feel ancient #scars #ace #asexual peter parker

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stillebesat · 4 years

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Scales (3/7)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Deceit, Virgil, Roman, Patton Blurb: Deceit hadn’t expected his absence from the Mindscape to be noticed by the others…until Logic knocked on his door. Fic Type: General Warnings: Shedding (snake style), Minor Injuries, Minor Pain, Touch Starvation Taglist in Reblog.

To Catch Up: Prologue Chapter 1

Deceit struggled to draw a full breath as Logic pushed open the door, peering in before he moved cautiously into his room for the first time, the heat and humidity immediately fogging up his glasses as he did so.

Logi--Logan frowned, amber eyes darting about as he slipped off the frames, cleaning them with a cloth while he took in every detail from the mussed up bed, to the theater posters on the walls above the piano, to the philosophy and law books scattered across the desk, to land on the sunlamp in the corner.

Deceit couldn’t help but tense further, watching him investigate the room from the corner of his eye. “What?” He demanded. “You never seen a bedroom before?”

Logan jumped, cheeks going red as he slipped the glasses back on. “Apologies.” He said, pulling at his tie, loosening the knot. “Your room...wasn’t how I expected it to be.”

Oh? “And what were you expecting? A cave?” He retorted, heart pounding in his chest as Logan turned his full attention on him.

The Logical Side cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “A similar aesthetic to Virgil’s more like.”

“Like Anxiety’s? Ha.” Deceit smirked, just barely stopping himself from shaking his head and revealing the shed. No, they were rather opposite in their tastes. He had always preferred his room to be lighter and warmer compared to the other Dark Sides. “It’s not always this…warm…but this is my room.”

“It’s roasting.” Logan corrected, tugging at the collar of his shirt, loosening the buttons. “Why is it so hot?”

Deceit exhaled, a dozen lies running through his mind. The moment of truth. “Because it helps…” He licked his lips, audibly swallowing.

His stiff arm trembled at his side. He should just lie. Give a different excuse as to why the room was too hot. Why had he even let Logic in in the first place?

“It helps...with--” He hesitated, closing his eye. Come on. Just show him. But it wasn’t like it was easy to show yourself when at your most vulnerable!

“With?” Logan asked, his voice soft as he came closer. “You can tell me, Lyal. Remember, I am Logic.”

“Like this is logical,” Deceit muttered, human fist clenching. None of the others had to deal with this. None of them had scales. He was the odd Side out with this problem.

But it was now or...well...now. Logan wouldn’t let it go now that he knew something was wrong.

Deceit dropped his hand and abruptly turned. “Ithelpswiththis.” He said, struggling to meet Logic’s eyes as he gestured to the left side of his face and torso.

Logan inhaled sharply, eyes going wide behind his frames as he took in Deceit’s appearance, studying the off-white layer of skin that covered his scales from head to naval, dulling the once bright color to a dark sickly green.

It felt like an eternity before he spoke.

“You’re about to shed.”

Deceit relaxed fractionally, watching Logan warily with his human eye. “Yes.” At least the other Side wasn’t...well….screaming in horror.

Logan moved closer. “I should have considered---I thought they were--” He reached out to the scales, but froze as Deceit flinched, twisting his body away from his hand.

It was one thing to show him his shed, but to have Logic t-touch--.

A tremor rushed through him. No one ever touched him.

Logan cleared his throat, hand still raised. “Apologies Lyal. Uh... can I-- may I touch your arm?”

Deceit made a face to hide his uncertainty, rolling his human eye while the other one remained unmoving, staring straight ahead under the film. He knew, of course, that Logic would want to investigate thoroughly in order to understand. Touch. See. Ex--Experiment.

“If it’s too tender I don’t have to--” Logan said, pulling back. “I just haven’t seen--”

He exhaled, arm trembling. “Of course you haven’t. No one has.” He couldn’t afford to show weakness. To have them see him...vulnerable.

Why then had he ever thought it a good idea to let Logic in?! Because he brought up pizza? It was such a stupidly flimsy reason and he’d allowed himself to take it. So weak.

“Lyal.” Logan said, offering his hand palm up. “I know this must be difficult for you. Even Patton still struggles to open up to us about his feelings when he’s upset. So it’s okay if you need to take it slow--”

Deceit hunched his shoulders, staring at the floor so he wouldn’t have to see the genuine concern in Logic’s eyes.

Wasn’t it better than having him freaking out though? Logan hadn’t screamed or looked at him in revulsion. Hadn’t called for Creativity to come slay the monster--maybe...maybe he could be trusted...with this.

Swallowing, Deceit cautiously lifted his arm, holding his hand out above Logan’s. “Gently.” He said, struggling not to jerk back as Logic drew closer. The others never touched him. “It’s--”

Logan hesitated, tilting his head, amber eyes soft, nearly like Morality's. “Tender?”

“Sensitive, but that wor--” He flinched, hissing under his breath as Logan’s feather light touch brushed his fingers, burning along the leather-like layer of skin. “Works too.” He got out through gritted teeth, struggling to stay still as Logan trailed his fingers carefully along his arm before moving his hand up to rest the palm against Deceit’s cheek.

He shakily inhaled, human eye half closing as Logic lightly brushed the shed there with his thumb.

“More than a little sensitive, to react so.” Logan murmured. “How often does this happen to you?” He asked, peering at the milky eye. “Can you see? How long does this process take? Is this why you haven’t been eating? Does clothing irritate the skin? How much--”

Deceit took a step back away from Logan’s electric touch, the human side of his face growing hot under the barrage of questions. “Do you always play twenty questions with things like this?” He asked, struggling to not turn away under his scrutiny.

“When given new information, yes.” Logan said with a half shrug as he adjusted his glasses, clearing away the water droplets gathering on them. “I am Logic after all and I want to understand this.” He gestured to Deceit, a thoughtful frown on his face. “As I had previously believed your scales were merely aesthetically placed, but it seems that you have more reptilian qualities than I realized and,” He drew in a breath, meeting Deceit eyes. “I want to know how to help you.”

Help him? Deceit scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t need help.” He grimaced as the lie left his lips. If he didn’t need help he would have slammed the door in Logic’s face. “Don’t--”

“Falsehood.”

Deceit exhaled, running his right hand through his hair, staying away from the waxy side. “I know it was a lie, Logic, there’s no need to point it out.”

Logan grimaced, again wiping away the moisture from his lenses. “Apologies. It’s a habit.”

Of course it was. Logan didn’t like dealing with lies. And Deceit hadn’t made it easy on him by forcing them all to keep silent when Thomas didn’t want to know things about himself.

“Well, you’ll need to break it if I’m going to continue hanging around you guys.” He stated, gingerly feeling along his arm where Logan had touched him as he moved to sit on the bed. Well, collapse onto the bed. Deceit hissed as his legs trembled even sitting down. He was weak. Far too weak. “I can’t always…not lie.”

“You’re doing rather well right now.” Logan pointed out as he sat nearby, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes.

Deceit huffed, gesturing to his shedding skin. “Side effect.” Mostly. It took more effort to Lie while he was like this at least.

“Ah.” Logan frowned. “Actually, that makes no sense at all.”

What about him ever made sense? Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Neither does me having scales.”

“...Point.” Logan conceded, inclining his head, eyes once more studying his shed. “How often does this happen to you?”

Deceit licked his lips, looking away, showing more of the shed. “Uh...every four to six months. Some--sometimes more if Thomas is going through a lot of--growth--himself. Like--” He gestured to the waxy half of his hair. “This happened when he chose to dye his hair for the first time.” And it had taken two more sheds with it to figure out how to properly care for it without leaving large bald patches behind that he had to hide under his hat.

Logan’s eyes lit up as a small smile appeared on his lips. “That’s why we haven’t noticed your absences before now.” He edged closer, again lightly touching Deceit’s hand. “Am I correct in guessing your last shed was before we invited you--”

Deceit nodded, his hand burning under Logic’s touch. “Y-yes.”

“And it lasts a wee--No,” Logan jerked his head up. “This is why you’re worried.” He breathed. “It shouldn’t be taking this long.”

“Three days at most.” Deceit whispered, his human eye briefly holding Logan’s gaze before he looked down. “I...it still feels like Day One. It...it shouldn’t.” His right hand clenched on his leg while the left remained motionless. “I don’t know why.”

Logan frowned. “This hasn’t happened before?”

Deceit shook his head, stiff under his touch “Not like this. I’ve done…I haven’t changed anything. My usual methods should have worked.”

“Methods?”

“The heat and humidity. It usually helps to--to loosen it.” Once it was loose enough, the shed would become itchy signaling he could safely scratch or peel it off to reveal the new scales underneath.

Logan chewed the bottom of his lip in thought as he lightly ran his hand over the shed once more before exhaling, shaking his head. “I admit...I don’t know why it’s not working, your methodology makes sense to me with my basic knowledge of how reptiles shed, but.” He pulled at his tie as he stood. “I don’t think you should stay in here.”

Deceit’s heart skipped a beat. What? “NO!” He tensed up, pulling his left arm close to his chest. “I can’t leave. It’s…” He shuddered, already imagining how it could all go wrong. He could barely navigate his bedroom without hurting himself and now Logan wanted him to leave? No. No. NO. “My depth perception is so screwed right now, I’ll get hurt! I’ll damage the scales further I’ll--”

“I’ll carry you then.” Logan interrupted, his tone gentle but firm.

Deceit froze. “Carry--!” He choked out in disbelief. But!

Logic nodded, again tugging at the collar of his shirt. “If I must, Lyal. I’m not willing to leave you here to fend for yourself in such a state.” His eyes glittered as he pushed his glasses up. “I told you I would give my opinion and I’m giving it.” He tilted his head to the door, holding out his hand. “This is not something you should continue to hide from your family nor deal with alone.”

To Be Continued. Chapter 3

#Scales #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Deceit #Logan #Logic #shedding tw #minor injuries tw #minor pain tw #touch starvation tw

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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1x06: Skin

Then:

Grief-fest 2005 continues

Now:

St. Louis, MO

Ah, good old torture porn to start it all off tonight! The cops are onto the bad guy though and are slowly making their way to save the girl. They find her and continue to track her kidnapper. They find him just as he’s about the jump out the window.

TWIST! It’s Dean!

One Week Earlier

The brothers pull into a Gas-n-Sip SureGas for much needed supplies. Dean goes over their driving plans and then pulls a classic projection by stating, “Sam wears women’s underwear.” Sam doesn’t care because LawBoy and his little stylus are emailing with friends about the brother of one of his friends. He’s been charged with murder. Dean wants to know if Sam’s friend is hot. I want to know why I continue to love you Dean, despite your gross early days. Sam convinces his brother to head to St. Louis.

They arrive at Sam’s friend’s Becky’s place. She tells them about her brother Zach finding his girlfriend, calling 911, and then the cops arrested him. He would have had to have been in two places at the same time. He was with Becky until after the murder took place but the cops have a security camera showing contrary information.

Sam asks to see the crime scene and tells Becky that Dean’s a cop.

They head to the crime scene. And I have to pause and ask what the timeline is here? He’s already been charged. There’s a trial set? Yet, the crime scene is still active? Anyway, there’s blood everywhere and a neighbor dog that used to be nice is now a barking menace. Dean asks to see the security footage.

Meanwhile, someone who looks a lot like Zach sits outside a building and watches a couple come out of it chatting. He watches the woman and then laser beams come out his eyes!

Sam and Dean watch the video and Sam notices the glowing eyes.

Meanwhile, the man comes home to find his partner tied and bloody. She pleads with him to not hurt her anymore. He hears a crash in another room. He finds himself(!) and promptly gets bashed with a baseball bat.

Sam and Dean head to Zach’s building to track where the killer went after the murder. Grumpy morning Dean is in full effect. Hearts. Sam finds blood at the scene and I have to question the level of investigation the cops put into this case. The brothers then notice that the cops are blocking off another building.

Sam continues to search the surrounding area. Dean gets the lowdown on the latest case --another doppelganger!

Shapeshifter!

Sam wonders if shapeshifter can fly because the trail just ends. Dean suggests the sewer.

They find the shed skin of the shifter. YUM.

They head back to the car to get silver bullets --the only thing that’ll kill all shifters.

Becky calls Sam to reveal that she knows Dean isn’t a detective. Sam tells her they were trying to help. She doesn’t want his help anymore and hangs up on him.

They head back underground, and find the shifter’s lair. And the shifter! There’s a chase and they emerge from the sewers - but the shapeshifter is long gone.

Regrouping after failing to find the monster, the Winchesters decide to call it a night. As a passing car illuminates Dean’s eyes, they shine yellow. Dun dun DUN. Monster!Dean asks for the keys and Sam does a sneaky memory check on him, asking him about a past hunt. He apparently passes Sam’s test, but Sam pulls a gun on him. Monster!Dean caught the keys with his injured arm, showing Sam that he wasn’t really Dean. Unfortunately for Sam, Monster!Dean knocks out soft-headed Sam.

Sam wakes up tied to pipes in the sewer system. We learn that shapeshifters share a psychic connection with the person they’re impersonating. Monster!Dean drops some truth bombs that still inform our interpretations of Dean to this day. Dean’s jealous of Sam leaving and making his own life. “Sooner or later everyone’s gonna leave me,” Monster!Dean says, and our hearts break for the next fourteen seasons.

Monster!Dean shows up at Becky’s house and talks his way inside. He tells her all about shapeshifters and his tale is highly sympathetic of shifters. Meanwhile, Dean wakes up and frees Sam and himself, and they both head to Becky’s house.

The shapeshifter is already at the tying-up-and-threatening stage of his attack cycle when the cops arrive. He flees the house while these fool cops machine-gun-fire indiscriminately after him into the suburban thicket of trees in the backyard. Cops, PLZ.

Back in the safety of the sewer, the shapeshifter transforms and it’s PRETTY GROSS. Teeth fall out, ribs crack, the skin peels off. Generally, it looks pretty painful! Remember this scene every time there’s a shapeshifter in an episode, kiddos.

The real Dean and Sam watch footage about the attack. There’s now a police sketch of Dean circulating the airwaves on an ACTUAL bank of televisions in a storefront window. LOL pre-smartphone storytelling is WILD.

They find the Impala by Becky’s house, but it’s a STING and cops corner them. Dean escapes over a fence while Sam gets cornered. Dean heads down into the sewers to investigate, and tracks bits of flesh to a truly nasty hideout decorated with skin and lit candles. It’s…sure an aesthetic. Dean finds a trussed up Becky who frets about an imposter who looks like her.

Sam apparently escaped the cops scot-free, only to get knocked out AGAIN as he visits Becky. Monster!Becky ties up Sam, transforms AGAIN into Dean, and then struts around the kitchen taunting Sam. He’s going to kill Sam and then the real Dean will end up hunted FOREVER for fratricide. Muahahahaha, I suppose? (Chuck, is that you?)

Sam gets free and a fight ensues. Dean bursts in just in time and fires a couple silver bullets into Monster!Dean, killing him.

Facing his own dead body, Dean enjoys a moment of existential crisis. He seizes his necklace back from the dead shapeshifter.

Later, Becky bids Sam farewell and the Winchesters get ready to hit the road. Sam’s friend Zach goes free, courtesy of the shapeshifter stealing Dean’s face. The cops have pinned the attacks on Dean. (Uh, hopefully BOTH the framed dudes were freed and not just Sam’s friend???)

Driving away, Dean jokes, “How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” I look DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA as the episode ends.

Please Clean Up Your Shedded Quotes, They’re Disgusting:

Look, it sucks but in a job like this you can’t get close to people. Period

He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad

I kind of understand him. He’s all alone—close to no one. All he wants is for someone to love him

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 1x06 #skin #supernatural season 1

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monstaxardeur · 4 years

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Warnings: Angst

Everyone at the dorm raised their brows when they found out Changkyun was out for the day with you. They all suspected the same thing, a secret fling or an actual secret date. No one took it as badly as Wonho and they all just wanted the details from their bandmate. Changkyun didn't spill anything though when he returned and it all felt so suspicious and secretive, when inquired he simply replied, "Oh no I was just helping her with something personal." He said it with a straight face, the kind that gave off the vibes of 'none of your business.' That became the start of many secret escapades, if Changkyun wasn't ever home, it meant he was at your place. Wonho tried to act unbothered most of the time but then sometimes he'd want to look out for Changkyun and tell him everything but he'd stop realizing what if none of that bothered him? For the longest time now Wonho started to really dislike you but he wouldn't make it evident and he hoped one of these days you'd leave his friends alone. So much darkness had started to bubble inside of him, stemming from all the hurt and betrayal you gave him.

"It's tomorrow right? Your next appointment? Don't worry I'll be there. I cleared up my schedule for that day so don't worry. It'll be okay, alright." Changkyun hungup sighing, his voice had been a low hush and Wonho couldn't help but get concerned and inquired, "Everything okay? Who was it? Is someone sick?" Changkyun paused and didn't really want to say it but your named fell from his lips and Wonho looked perplexed for a second. 'What had happened?' that was all that kept repeating in his head. He spent an extra hour at gym that day, everything was a mess in his head. He couldn't make head and tail of anything, he was hurting inside, he wanted to know the truth so badly but he didn't know why he could never bring himself to go after you, to confront you about everything, even if it was ripping his heart apart, tormenting his mind. He was stuck between wanting to forget everything about you and wanting closure from your broken friendship.

That night Wonho was woken up by shuffling from the other room. Changkyun was hurriedly putting on his shoes and looked worried, his phone was pressed between his head and shoulder as he spoke with knitted brows, "Fuck no! I'm coming over right now." and he hung up. He fumbled his hands around his pockets and cursed under his breath, "Here, you dropped these." Wonho spoke holding out the car keys Changkyun was looking for. There was a moment of silence with gnawing tension in the air before Changkyun reached for the keys but Wonho clutched them in his fist. "Let me go instead." Changkyun arched a brow and pursed his lips. " I can't let you. You'll only make it worse."

"Then let me fix it instead." Wonho's words hung heavy in the air, he spoke almost as if he knew the truth. "You're responsible for whatever happens then."

Changkyun's words echoed in his head as Wonho found himself at your doorstep. He pressed in the code and walked into your cozy little apartment, there was smell of fresh coffee mixed with a strong scent of what seemed like flowers, the one you get from smelling a fresh flower bouquet. It was too strong though, the smell and Wonho looked around noticing how the place was unmistakably like you. Your aesthetic adorned the different corners of the house, he recognized some of the things you had bought when you two used to hang out before. "Changkyun is that you? I'll be out in a minute, help yourself to some coffee." Your frail voice spoke from accross the room and Wonho noticed you buttoning up an oversized night shirt, a scar prominently splayed on your chest as you left the top buttons open to let the wound breath. When you stepped out to assumingly greet Changkyun you were all sorts of awkward and froze in your track. This wasn't good and you felt it...the sudden suffocation, the flowers blooming inside of you like a wild demon wanting an escape. It wasn't long when Wonho witnessed the source of the strong scent of flowers in the apartment. You coughed up dead petals while flailing one arm and the other hand clutched on to your wound. You didn't know if it was the wound that was aching or your suffocation. It was both. Wonho watched in horror the whole thing while he was frozen in place from shock but then somehow you regained your composure slowly, but your legs still gave out from under you making you collapse and that's when Wonho rushed to your aid.

You cried silently, your voice cracked and your throat hurt from trying to keep your composure. You had told Wonho everything about how and why you started suffering from the hanahaki disease but you still apologized, you never wanted him to feel bad. There was one last appointment left to get the remenants removed, your only instructions had been to keep yourself away from anything and everything related to the person you loved, to stay away from Wonho. He was knelt to the ground before you from where you sat on the couch, his hands held on to yours, he had been crying with you hearing everything. It all came crashing down on him, 'what have I done..' Wonho asked himself.

As if he wasn't already wounded from listening to your entire ordeal when your words pierced through him, "Wonho please leave..go home please...leave me alone so I can recover.."

"You'll forget to love me if I leave...you'll forget me..." He replied knowing how selfish he sounded, he still didnt want you to forget him or the friendship that you two had. It would be like a clean slate, like starting over, but never falling in love again..it meant he'd be the only one who remembered, the only one who perhaps felt love in your relationship. Was it possible though? Could he have begun to love you too? He asked himself that when he kissed your trembling lips as if to find answers within him, when he peeled your shirt away from your skin, he was desperate to feel the connection when his fingers grazed your scar but...there was nothing...

Love couldn't be forced, it just happens. Wonho had given you the sweetest goodbye kiss and you wept through the night when he left you with the taste of his lips on yours.

Almost a month after your recovery, Changkyun told his dormmates everything. They had to know about it if you ever behaved odd, after all you'd forgotten all the beautiful times you spent with Wonho, all the moments that were spent loving him were gone, that meant your memories would be foggy if it included Wonho and everyone or anyone else. As if that wasn't enough to salt Wonho's wounds, the news was finally broken, Changkyun was finally with you. Somehow it felt the statement was an explicit warning to Wonho, it took a lot in him to have let Wonho go that night. Changkyun was the other guy for the longest time and he only wanted the best for you, but now that it was over, it was clear you were his girl. Wonho never really knew if he loved you romantically all he knew was he loved you as the person you were, he was your friend and he ended up hurting you, friends don't do that. He wished desperately to have been able to love you like you had loved him but it just didnt happen. His heart only started to heal when he saw you that one time, cluelessly content, curled onto Changkyun's lap in his studio while he worked. Sweet kisses were stolen, giggles could be heard sometimes, at least you were smiling that radiant smile again.

If Wonho was truly ever honest with himself though, sometimes just sometimes he would have that dream, where he kissed you goodbye, so bittersweet. A goodbye he never quiet got over..~

#monsta x #changkyun #wonho #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #i.m #hanahaki #recuperer

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dishsteam1 · 3 years

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gearruth68 · 3 years

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The additional sessions are indicated to aid the lady attain the feeling and look they desire. Typically, the physician will set up the treatment sessions as though they get to happen between 4 and six weeks apart. The fact that this treatment does not have any type of downtime is among things that makes it appealing to numerous women. As holds true with several clinical procedures, it's not unusual for clients to have inquiries on the therapy. You will also require to participate in a consultation session with the aesthetician. The truth that ladies tend to have different physique requires the aesthetician to prepare all patients differently.

Reporter Lisa Fogarty tried the treatmentand wrote about her experience in Redbook magazine online, keeping in mind a reduction in her requirement to urinate when working out and also an increase in sexual pleasure. She found that the treatment made her feeling more amorous as she 'd taken time out to treat herself to a treatment made to enhance her sex-related satisfaction. Fringe benefits of the therapy will consist of removing or decreasing urinary stress and anxiety urinary incontinence, an usual issue recognized to affect women that might remain in various life phases. The ultrasound technology being used here is an innovation that has actually currently been tried, examined, as well as proven to function successfully.

Hair treatments.

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It is best to prevent penetrative sex and also making use of tampons for the initial 3 days following the therapy to give the location an opportunity to recover. This is one of the most crucial Vaginal Tightening up FAQ. The skin in the vaginal area can end up being loose, just like skin on other locations of the body.

D therapy

Here with us at Pro-Moi every little thing that is gone over throughout your examination will be purely confidential. The HIFU technology that we use is licensed, as well as the treatment is risk-free and non-surgical. Mason added that the business has "strict methods that we enforce on training and management of these procedures as well as we have never undergone any kind of malpractices or anything that has actually harmed any of our customers". When this is truly utilized, it creates efficient thermal heating system to the interior finishings of tissues. The honesty of the feature permits extensive management over the activity as well as additionally stamina of the ultrasound exam to see to it excellent advantage for each individual. FemiWand Vaginal Firm is truly a 30-minute treatment that may be in fact applied on your lunch possibility remainder. Before having any kind of FemiLift therapy you will certainly need to have an up to date Pap smear result.

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Following your Appointment with our expert you will be suggested 2 or even more treatments as indicated. At LBPS our expert medical team are trained to provide you with the absolute best care with security as a concern.

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Which's the important things-- these clinics desire our money, as well as up until appropriate laws are introduced for non-surgical treatments in the UK, they're mosting likely to maintain marketing. FemiWand ® is in fact a High-Intensity Focused Ultrasound therapy that uses effective ultrasound test electrical energy. The number of treatments that are needed for every person will differ. Most people require simply 2 treatments to accomplish durable enhancement in both feeling and also urinary incontinence. If you have serious laxity you may need 3 or 4 treatments every 6 weeks to attain the optimal result.

When Will I really Feel comfy participating In significant events After Facelift surgical Procedure?

La-Lipo for coolsculpting Reading unanticipated adverse effects of Femilift treatment for several ladies isincreased self-confidence as well as sex appealthat originates from hanging out caring for this extremely personal area of the body. For others, finding an option to an awkward trouble and also merely no more having to put on urinary incontinence pads or fret about dripping urine can havea large result on a woman's self-esteem as well as self-confidence. For lots of women the results of Femilift therapy can be life altering. Bianca, among our patients at Health and wellness & Aesthetic appeal, said that the outcomes of the treatment meanher life-long incapacitating urinary incontinence trouble has actually been 85-90% cured.

A good expert will provide you a complete pelvic evaluation as well as take your case history before suggesting the most effective choice of therapy. This may mean that they do not advise Femilift if they believe it won't aid your signs. It is very important to note that every person is various as well as the amount as well as regularity of your therapies will depend upon your individual conditions. If you have less treatments after that you might find that the issue you're dealing with will certainly come back, whereas having the complete course of therapy, with regular top ups, need to keep problems away for numerous years. Some women notice an enhancement in their signs and symptoms after the initial therapy, but it maytake a complete training course of treatment to experience the very best results.

Our personnel will certainly lead as well as sustain you with your FemiLift Laser Vaginal Tightening Up Treatment from Examination and Treatment, to Adhere To Up Treatment. Our experienced Nurses will additionally be at hand to support you any time on our devoted 24/7 individual telephone number. Is not painful-- ladies who have had the treatment record only a tingle of warmth yet no pain. Since the genital wall surface consists of collagen fibers, with time these can stretch as well as trigger the genital wall surface to shed flexibility. This can trigger a decrease in enjoyment of sexual relations. In addition to a normal component of aging, this decrease in flexibility can be enhanced after kid birth.

This will additionally be the time to ask any kind of burning inquiries that might be troubling you regarding the treatment. FemiWand treatment is likewise thought of as being perfect for women who don't wish to undergo any type of kind of medical therapy. It's upon you to carry out your study prior to picking a facility to manage the treatment. HIFU innovation targets the dermal and also SMAS layer of the skin, for both superficial and muscular tightening; generation brand-new collagen, causing the skin to tighten up, tone as well as lift. Ensure that you avoid warm settings such as sunbeds and saunas for seventy two hrs after the treatment. Furthermore, do not have hot baths or showers during this amount of time, as this may create you pain since the skin is really delicate.

If you believe you may be suffering from any kind of medical condition, you should seek instant clinical attention.

If you have specific concerns regarding any medical issue, you must consult your doctor or other doctor.

The products and treatments referred to within our site will only be offered after conclusion of an extensive medical history, and, where called for, under the prescription of Lumière Medispa's Nurse Independant Prescriber.

You need to never delay seeking clinical guidance, negligence clinical advice or stop medical therapy because of information on our site.

fat freezing Manchester make no depiction, service warranty, or warranty that Our Site will satisfy your demands, that it will not infringe the rights of third parties, that it will certainly work with all software program and also hardware, or that it will certainly be protected.

anti-wrinkle Therapy in Oxfordshire, Consisting Of Wrinkle Kicking back Injections, facial fillers, and Skin Peel therapies.

The location is intense, modern-day and tidy producing a welcoming and loosening up experience. The option right here is plentiful wedding catering for differing needs, enjoy a relaxing Swedish massage therapy, polish your skin with a body exfoliation or deal with a continuous skin condition. Easily situated by means of bus as well as just a 10-minute stroll from Cathays terminal, this rejuvenating clinic combines art as well as medication to produce innovative treatments. At City Skin Physician in Cardiff, you will locate one of the most sophisticated treatments to improve your skin appearances, creases, and unwanted hair.

points That influence The look Of Cellulite Include.

Can a facelift help smokers lines?

Unfortunately, a facelift is not effective at treating those all too common lines around the mouth (smoker's lines). Even patients who do not smoke can develop these lines, sometimes fairly deep. To correct those, a resurfacing procedure needs to be performed.

We eagerly Anticipate Seeing You In one Of Our Clinics Nationwide.

Another effect of the loss of elasticity in the vagina can be repeat vaginal infections which are crippling and also stressful. Expect friendly and expert service from start to finish as you're made to feel welcome by the enthusiastic as well as educated team. Constantly as much as day with the most recent techniques and fads, these gifted therapists are fully certified and customize each therapy to match your demands.

Using ultrasound cartridge sticks as opposed to relying on intrusive surgical needles suggests that the person will certainly not experience any type of downtime or discomfort. You will have the ability to go right back to function after undergoing a session at your favored center. But as stated above, you ought to wait a minimum of twenty-four hrs before making love or resuming your health and fitness tasks. Aside from being a pain-free procedure, it should not take more than twenty minutes, half an hour at most to finish it. Treatments are scheduled at 4 or 6 weeks periods and most clients see a great renovation after 2 sessions. This therapy has come to be an innovative medical option to standard vaginoplasty. All our practitioners recognize this is not a subject everyone really feels comfortable discussing.

Is 60 too old for rhinoplasty?

Average Age of Rhinoplasty Patient In my experience, most people seeing a rhinoplasty are between young and middle adulthood (ie 20 to 50's). Occasionally, a teenager will be serious enough to get a nose job, and if they meet criteria, a rhinoplasty is very safe. Also less common are the much older patients.

Do not stress-- there are some signs which might help you to identify whether Vaginal Tightening up will certainly profit you. As an example, you may be experiencing less sensation during intercourse, as well as loss of control over urination. If you are unclear, after that arrange a consultation at Harley Ultrasound where we can assist you determine whether or not Vaginal Tightening is ideal for you.

Their vast array of treatments are constantly developed, making certain the most up to date in skin care innovation and strategies are available for all their customers. Concentrated on supplying a comfortable, safe and secure and reliable experience, Bellezza Facility assures to leave you with glowing, glowing skin with every check out. A short walk from London's world-famous Harrods Shop, Bellezza Clinic London in Knightsbridge is a professional skin clinic supplying an effective option to invasive treatments. To acquire the very best results, you will certainly need to have two to three therapies, spaced four to six weeks apart and afterwards an additional therapy each as well as a fifty percent to 2 years to maintain the outcomes. The treatments are spaced apart to allow time for the collagen, elastin and also brand-new tissue to establish, which reinforces the vagina wall surfaces and also for that reason improves symptoms. A 2018report released by RealSelf, the leading online resource for individuals considering cosmetic therapies, stated that 94% of ladies who have actually had Femilift therapy ranked it as 'worth it' on the website. Genital laser firm has been featured on Today, where design Danielle Lloyd claimed theprocedure changed her life as a treatment for urinary incontinence.

Can Botox lift sagging jowls?

lose stomach weight . Tighten jowls. If your jawline has become less defined, a little Botox along the muscles of the jawbone can pull the skin up for a crisp, defined effect. 6.

In some cases, you might experience identifying or watery discharge a day after the therapy. Yet the medical professional doing the treatment should take you with what to anticipate before your session can begin. What's even more, is that it has been around for more than 5 years.

Are mini facelifts worth it?

If a patient is still in the earlier stages of aging, and primarily concerned with jowling, a mini facelift might just be the ideal cosmetic treatment for them. One of the most appealing aspects of the mini facelift is that it's very effective at treating early aging in a minimally invasive fashion.

This is more likely to occur with age, if you are obese, as well as if you have delivered. At Harley Ultrasound we understand this is an area that is not conveniently accessible for evaluation, and also tough to talk about.

Offering every little thing from waxing and facials to manicures and also brow colors, Clapham's EGP Appearances has all the appeal treatments you require under one roof. The group of professional therapists integrate their comprehensive expertise with the most up to date brands and innovation to supply top quality therapies tailored to match your beauty requirements. In 2018 a research study by the International Continence Societylooked right into the result of Femilift on females with anxiety urinary system incontinence. The study found that 81.8% of females reported renovation at their 3 month follow-up consultation, after having three session of Femilift therapy.

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thepencilnerd · 5 years

Text

- 𝐈 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 -

➳ Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader

➳ Summary: AU! After a one-night stand with Park Jinyoung, the infamous campus fuckboy, life goes on. You were only looking for a good time, so you didn’t need to worry about catching any feelings, but Jinyoung had other plans

➳ Genre: Fuckboy x Fuckgirl AU, light angst, implied smut

➳ Word Count: 4.1k

➳ Warnings: Mature situations, swearing, alcohol

♪ Single- The Neighbourhood

a/n: jinyoung feels hit me hard and im trash so i rushed this, forgive me

The night was still young as you entered the club with your group of friends. The clock read 11:53 p.m. as you all swarmed the bar like flies, immediately trying to kiss-up to the bartender for free drinks. Having mastered the art of flattery to the last detail, it was as easy as taking candy from a baby. Downing a shot of vodka and chasing it with strawberry soda, you exhaled as you felt the soothing burn of alcohol coat your throat.

It was a few days since the semester had ended and you had already planned out your summer break down to the hour. The majority of it consisted of hibernating in your room for days on end until the time came to visit your parents back home, but before that, you had a week to waste drinking, partying, staying out all night, and maybe chatting up a few guys here and there—with no intentions of actually taking them home, of course. Being a tease was so much more fun than giving people what they wanted.

“So what happened with you and Jinyoung?” one of your friends shouted through the loud music that blared through the speakers.

“Oh yeah,” another squealed. “Was he as good as everyone says he is?”

You scoffed. “As if. He was so distracted by these—” you gestured to your chest. “He couldn’t even get his own pants off.”

“Bullshit!” they all whined. “Be honest—was he good?”

Taking another sip from your glass and swishing the liquor in your mouth, you shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell.” As you winked, your friends all groaned in frustration at your routine habit of never talking about your hookups. It wasn’t your place to say something a bit too honest (as per your other habit of being brutally truthful) and then have your loudmouth buddies spread a rumor like a wildfire. You were never fond of rumors or sugarcoating things, so you decided that it would be best to keep your personal life personal, especially from your gossip-mongering friends.

“Enough talk about boys,” you silenced, standing up and smoothing out the edges of your thigh-length dress. “Feel free to actually have fun instead of blabbing away like high-schoolers.”

Making your way to the center of the floor, the rest of them followed your tail, waving goodbye to the bartender and signaling him to leave his number under their drinks. When the song changed to one that you all knew, the four of you couldn’t help but sing along and sway your hips to the upbeat tempo.

About five or six songs in and seven or eight boys getting trying to cop a feel before getting ‘accidentally’ getting kneed in the crotch, you felt sweat begin to bead at your hairline, indicating that it was time for you to take a trip to the bathroom and dry off. Holding your hand up to your drunk energetic friends, they ushered you off and continued flopping around like robotic fish. Stepping between the crowds of people and making sure that you didn’t trip over your own heels, you finally reached the bathroom. Considering the location of the place and time of day, you were surprised at its immaculately spotless state.

Patting your forehead dry with a few paper towels and gargling with some water, you pat the edges of your lips with the back of your hand, thankful that you opted for lip stain rather than lipstick tonight. Making sure not to smudge your light eye makeup, you double-checked to make sure that the rest of your makeup was intact. Waterproof mascara could only endure so much before it started to crumble.

Examining your face, you pulled out your small makeup pouch and applied another layer of the deep red stain, patting it in with your ring finger and being cautious not to draw outside of your lip line. After puckering your lips and marveling at the finished product, your mind began to wander as your finger trailed your chin and dipped down to your jaw.

“Do you like it when I kiss you here?” he asked, whispering to the point of near silence as he pressed a kiss just beneath your jawline.

“Stop teasing,” you sighed, grasping him by the roots of his hair and tightening your grip gently, causing him to hiss in pleasure.

“Again,” he pleaded as he moaned. Each time you tugged at his hair, you were rewarded with his plush lips that began trailing down to the top of your breast.

You purposefully gripped his hair tighter this time, using your dominant position to your advantage to guide his head up so that he was now eye to eye with you. Lowering his head so that you could whisper his ear, you were centimeters from each other as you were able to see the goosebumps that formed across his skin when you spoke.

“Stop. Fucking. Teasing,” you snarled while licking your lips.

“Y/N?” your friend called from the door. Snapping you out of your daze, you hurriedly gathered your stuff and answered.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“You were taking forever,” she mumbled. “Uh—it’s him...”

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion at her uncomfortable state, wondering if she had been confronted by someone who she wasn’t interested in. “Is someone bothering you?”

She quickly held her hands up in defense and shook her head rapidly. “No, no, it’s just—Jinyoung. Jinyoung’s here and he wants to see you.” When she finally spit the words out, you let out a noise of disdain.

For the past three weeks since your hookup with the campus fuckboy, Jinyoung hadn’t stopped texting you and asking to hang out. Hourly text messages that turned into weekly rejected phonecalls had blurred into him being so desperate to the point of sending his own friends to go beg you to meet up with him. What the hell did he want this time?

“He’ll find someone else to bother soon enough, just ignore him,” you assured, brushing it off as just another one of his desperate attempts to hook up with you.

“But he said he really wants to see you. Like—he has to see you,” she repeated, looking down at the floor in guilt.

“Is he going to die if I don’t see him?” you irked. She was starting to get on your nerves now. “Give me one good reason why I have to go to him at his beck and call?”

“Because he brought the rest of his friends and we’re leaving with them for the night?” she forced out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re joking, right?” you gaped. Your friends had just flaked on you to hang spend the night with the school’s preppy princes. No big deal. “You fucking traitors...”

“Come on, Y/N,” she pleaded. “Just do what you always do and tease him until he gets frustrated and runs off. You’re good at that. Please?”

“Fuck off,” you sighed, pressing your finger to your temple and rubbing the pulsating vein. “Just this once, you unbelievable brat.”

Her face beamed with joy as she gave you a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to join the others. You hunched over the mirror and breathed calmly as you tried to compose yourself.

So I’m good at teasing, am I? you thought to yourself. I’ll show him a fucking tease if he’s ever seen one.

Your hands drifted to unbutton his blouse while he began stroking your bare thighs. Teeth clashing against teeth and lips demanding for more contact with pure desire, you peeled back his blouse and traced your fingers over his defined but svelte muscles and made him shudder.

“If I get you off like this with just my fingertips, imagine what my hands could do to you?” you coyed innocently.

He let out a scoff before guiding his fingers under his chin and silencing you with another kiss, lightly tugging against your lower lip with his teeth and smirking. “I could imagine a few things that pretty mouth of yours would be able to do too...”

Shaking the past out of your head, you lightly slapped your cheeks a few times and told yourself to pull it together. Stomping out of the restroom, you leaned onto the arched doorway and looked over to the table your friends were previously stationed at, only to be greeted by a single all-too-recognizable figure. With his arms spread out over the sofa, Park Jinyoung sat comfortably alone on the circular cushion which normally would’ve hosted six people.

Known as the school’s academic and aesthetic extraordinaire, this boy had built a reputation for himself as the brains and the looks of the popular group. He and six of his closest friends walked around campus like business moguls as girls and guys alike dropped like flies at their feet.

Even though he also had a reputation for being well-liked and favored, fuckboy Jinyoung was all the buzz. Girls who had sworn they wouldn’t fall for his flirty pick-up lines and false compliments were left drowning in their own tears the morning after. However, unlike the previous girls who had hooked up with him, you knew what you were getting into when you went to his party that night.

“So you’re Y/N?” an attractive man greeted as he came up to you.

Lowering your solo cup and studying his facial features, the corner of your lips turned upright into a smug grin. “Who’s asking?”

“Jinyoung,” he answered with a tone of arrogance in his voice. “Park Jinyoung.”

Shaking his extended hand, you were taken aback when he brought his lips to the top of your hand and pressed a light kiss to it, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time.

You held back a chuckle. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to make a move, junior?” At this comment, you could see his pupils dilate even in the dim lighting. Almost as soon as you caught the change in his expression, it quickly disappeared and was replaced by a cocky smirk and a flash of a perfectly white smile.

“Meet me upstairs in ten minutes,” you murmured in his ear. It was your turn to be in control tonight.

Turning away, Jinyoung immediately grasped you by your wrist and pulled you into his chest, inclining back slightly so that you were angled against his body and could feel his excitement pressed on your thigh. “Make that two.”

This party might have actually been worth coming to.

Your mind drifted off as you were captivated by his features. Whether it was his angular yet soft jawline, his acute eyes, or just the way he pulled off a loosely buttoned dress shirt, you bit down on your lip in anticipation.

The moment his eyes met yours, the music skipped and changed to another favorite of yours. His mouth dropped open slightly as he contemplated how to approach you. Deciding to take the lead once again, you beckoned him to follow you to the dance floor where you would do what you do best; be in control.

Jinyoung was quick on your tail as you began moving your body with the music. All those years of dance lessons had finally paid off. A pair of familiar hands came from behind you and found their way to your waist; one wrapped around your body and the other trailed up to your throat. Moving your hair out of the way, you felt his warm breath tickle the crook of your neck as he began to blow a trail of warm air down to your collarbone.

Two could play at this game, you baited. Pressing yourself into him harder along with the music, you felt a grunt come from his chest as he wrapped his arm around you even tighter. When he began placing open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, you felt heat spread across your cheeks.

Shifting your position to face him, you looped your arms around his neck and leaned into him so that your mouth was millimeters away from his. Feeling him exhale into your lips, you bit your bottom lip gently before weaving your hands into his hair ever so slightly, giving you the ability to make him do as you pleased. You knew he was the type who had a hair kink the second you laid eyes on him.

He made his iconic smirking face before gently taking your hands into his and pulling them away from his head. Resting your left hand on his shoulder, he brought your right hand to his lips and stuck out his tongue, running it along the pad of your ring finger that you had used applied your lip stain earlier.

“You still use that pomegranate flavored lip balm?” he asked, the question coming out more in the form of a statement rather than an actual question.

“It’s a stain—a lip stain,” you stuttered.

What the fuck was that? your conscience screamed. Pull it together.

“So it’s safe to assume that,” he paused, running his thumb over your bottom lip, which was probably bleeding from how much you had gnawed on it earlier. “—this won’t come off no matter how hard I kiss you?”

“You want to test that out?” you grinned and raised your eyebrow, provoking him to do his worst.

“Y/N,” he sighed, your name rolling off of his tongue so effortlessly as if it were second nature. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Why have you been trying so hard to see me?” you replied dryly.

He laughed at your response. “Is it such a crime for me to be so intrigued by someone?”

A chuckle escaped your lips as you continued to move to the mellow rhythm of the bass. “Was I that mind-blowingly amazing in bed that you wanted to come back for more?”

Jinyoung brought his head to my level and pressed a quick kiss to my pulse point before answering. “I needed to come back for more, princess.”

A shiver ran through your spine at the unfamiliar title he had given you at your first encounter. You weren’t really one for pet or nicknames, but for some reason, hearing it come from his lips was like liquid ambrosia; you could get drunk off of it.

“And how do you know I want more?” you pouted, wanting to push him to his limits and see how far he’d be willing to go before exploding.

“Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think about that night,” he said firmly. With a gaze that pierced through yours and arms encasing you in a death grip, you felt shy for the first time in years.

“I don’t-” you started but were interrupted by Jinyoung’s hands cupping your backside that fit like a perfectly snapped puzzle piece.

“Tell me you don’t think about how well I marked you here,” he reminded. Licking a stripe down your neck before clamping down on it lightly with his teeth, you closed your eyes and savored the sensation. He repeated the process a few more times until you halted him by winding your hands in his hair.

“I don’t,” you answered, faking confidence and knowing damn well that he could see through your facade from a mile away. He knew what game you were playing and the ball was now in his court.

Jinyoung clutched you securely into his chest, not knowing if it was even remotely possible or not, as the two of you were virtually joined at the waist. You could feel his heart pump rapidly under the material of his thin blouse as his hands then resumed tracing the back of your dress where the zipper was; likewise, the material of your outfit choice was also on the thinner side. The realization dawned upon you when you felt his fingertips fondle with the zipper line and barely skim the edges where the metal met your skin.

“What about when I unzipped this last time?” he recalled, stare boring into yours with the same hunger as the last time you saw him. “You got frustrated and threatened to leave so I practically ripped it right off of you...”

Hands guiding your hips to move in unison with his to the beat, you felt his growing urgency show as he was pushed over the edge and cupped your face, pulling you into a scorching kiss. His lips were just as soft—if not softer—than you had remembered, and you felt him kiss harder when you part your lips in a gasp.

Your hands wandered and knotted your fists into his shirt for leverage to tug him closer to you, the distance between the two of you now nonexistent. Your heart was pounding in your chest so loud, you felt your pulse ring in your ears. All the nerves in your brain began rapid firing to your senses; the taste of his lips against yours, the scent of that mouth-watering cologne he used, the feel of his body giving in and simultaneously fighting for control, and the raw sight of him crumbling beneath your fingertips.

“You sure you’ll be able to handle me, princess?” he inquired with a vain expression while he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“I should be asking you that,” you retorted. Pulling down your hair, his mouth watered as he gulped, admiring the volume of your tresses. Wagging your finger back and forth, you tsked. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already drooling.”

Without another word, he pinned you underneath him and devoured you in a greedy kiss.

Pulling away for air, Jinyoung looked up at you and chuckled deeply, breathless from the kiss that had nearly consumed the two of you. “Let’s go back to my place,” he managed to say.

With a crooked smile, your body commanded him to follow you as you walked back to the bar. Waving to the bartender for another glass of whiskey, Jinyoung quickly followed your tail and found a seat next to you.

“Why are you so intent on pushing me away?” he asked gravely, wearing a frown as his brows knit together into an expression of genuine confusion and hurt.

You coughed as the drink seared your throat, accidentally taking in a larger gulp than you normally would have because of his outlandish question. “Is it really not that obvious?”

His expression answered your question for you.

“Jinyoung,” you started calmly. “The point of one-night stands is that they’re a one-time thing. You’re used to those, aren’t you? I wanted a good time and you offered one. We used each other once and now we’re done. What part don’t you get?” Your words were laced with venom as you tried to prevent him from getting involved any further.

Jinyoung’s jaw tensed as he jutted out his chin slightly and nibbled on the inside of his cheek. “What if I don’t want it to be a one-time thing?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his absurd request, you let out a nasal scoff. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to have one-night stands with you all the time. Only you.” Whether it was because of the alcohol of because he was telling the truth, his eyes never drifted away from your for even a split second.

“Are you asking me out or for me to be your fuckbuddy?” you gawked, appalled at his bizarre and unusual attitude.

He ran his hand down the back of his neck awkwardly as he tried to preserve his ‘cool guy’ image. “The former. I mean if you don’t that’s fine. We can just hook up again.”

You were full-on giggling now. Wiping the tears from the edges of your eyes and gripping your aching stomach, you calmed yourself and tried to form words. “What makes you think that I even want to hook up again, let alone date you?”

“Because I saw the way you stared at me during passing periods before we even hooked up. Before we even knew each other-” he pointed out bluntly. Outlining your lips which were damp from your drink, he smoothed his finger over the corner of your mouth. “I always caught you staring at me and biting your lip or tracing that perfectly shaped cupid’s bow of yours.”

Sipping on your chaser nervously, he caught your chin with his fingertips and brought you into a light kiss, making your heart jump again.

“You’re nice but still have a smart mouth, intelligent but still know how to have fun, pretty goddamn attractive,” he explained in detail then brought his lips close to yours again, but only to feel his breath fan against yours. “-and you taste so fucking good...”

“I never took you as the dating type,” you muttered under your breath as you swirled your drink.

“I never took you as the one-night stand type of girl either. Crazy how first impressions can be so misleading, right?” he remarked half-sarcastically while resting his cheek on his propped elbow.

You shook your head again. “So why do you want to date me?”

His eyebrow quirked up, not understanding the question he thought he had just answered. “Because I like you?” he replied begrudgingly, hating how he had to be the submissive one whenever he was with you.

“But you don’t exactly seem like the committed’ type, per se,” you shrugged.

“You don’t either, so it looks like we’re a perfect match.” Taking your drink from you and handing it to the bartender, he shot him a glare when you tried to ask for another drink, causing him to hold his hands up in defense and help the other customers.

“What the fuck?” you scoffed in disbelief, surprised and annoyed at his strange attitude tonight.

“I don’t want you around other guys. The thought of anyone else other than me touching you or even looking at you makes my blood boil. I want to be there for you when you’re sad and be the one who makes you happy. I want to wake up and send you those stupid cheesy good morning texts and fall asleep while video calling you until 3 a.m.,” he rambled with no signs of stopping any time soon.

“I—” you tried to speak but couldn’t form words. In his case which he felt too much all at once, you didn’t know what to feel at all. Sure you had sparked an interest in him the first day of school two years ago, but that was before you were warned left and right about his playboy games. It took you a good six months before you got over your already-blooming crush on him, but you hadn’t realized that the feelings still lingered.

“I want to be the shoulder you cry on, not some random guy who doesn’t know jackshit about you. It scares the shit out of me because I’ve never felt anything like this before, especially after a one-night stand. For anyone. Ever,” he broke his sentences shakily.

“How am I supposed to believe that you’ve changed?” you asked thoughtfully, skimming over the prospect of being in a real relationship after a few years. This was a side of him you weren’t sure anyone had ever seen before.

He looked up from his hands and spoke quietly. “Because I want to believe you have too. And if you tell me to fuck off and leave you alone and that you really don’t want this, I’ll go.”

“We don’t know each other that well, if at all,” you defended as you tried to support your earlier statement. You found him attractive both physically and personality-wise, but you had trained yourself to be immune to the feeling of companionship and were at a stalemate. Jinyoung was the first boy to actually confess—practically beg you—to stay with them after a fling.

“I’d like to get to know you better as a person, Y/N. Maybe on a less intimate but more personal level,” he grinned mischievously at his own comment before smiling genuinely, eyes glinting and teeth beaming even in the ambient lighting.

“We’re going to argue. Especially knowing how stubborn the two of us like to be,” you rebutted once more, trying to push him away as best you could.

He nodded. “I know. I don’t mind.”

“And we’ll disagree on things,” you added, making him nod his head in agreeance again.

“I’m fine with that,” he grinned.

“You really think you can handle me?” you gawked as your jaw nearly unhinged at his tenacity.

“I should be asking you that,” the smart ass replied smugly, using your own words against you.

“I’ll piss you off like a bitch.”

“And I’ll deal with it,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“You’ll get mad.”

“And so will you.”

No wonder he liked your smart mouth; he had the perfect attitude to match. Scoffing at his boldness, you couldn’t help but grin. “What if I break your heart?”

"It would be an honor to have my first heartbreak with you,” he answered warmly without an ounce of hesitation.

“You really want to do this?” you asked, still questioning if he was truly being 100% honest or whether it was just another one of his mind games.

“Yes.” His serious expression and unchanged gaze indicated that he was indeed telling you the truth, and you couldn’t tell what scared you more; the way he spoke without a single lie laced in his words or the way his gaze captivated you longingly.

“Okay,” the word slipping out of your mouth absentmindedly, revealing your deepest subconscious desires. You never thought a single word would intimidate you so much.

“But first,” he chuckled as he leaned into you. “I’d rather do this—”

Capturing your liquor-laced lips, your mind floated off into pure bliss. Your hands pressed onto his chest to anchor you and prevent you from tearing each other’s clothes off in the middle of a bar. Warmth spread across your chest as you felt him smile heartily into the kiss.

“Are you going to be mine, princess?” his beamed, arms still wound securely around your body.

“If you’ll let me be yours...” you replied in a whisper, shuddering at your new favorite pet name as your hands tangled into his hair and brushed it affectionately.

Where would we go from here?

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crowdox5-blog · 4 years

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A Handful Of Terrific Nail Salon Advertising Ideas.

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v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e · 5 years

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me: *tries to have deep thoughts about a show* me: *immediates correlates it with hannibal*

ok so i've been seeing on twitter a lot of people so angry in the Killing Eve fandom, and it's funny that I'm seeing it because a) i'm not even part of any fandom on twitter, how i came to read all the wank is beyond me b) man people really simple do not know how to read and understand what a piece of text is saying, uh

but anyway this is not about the wank per se lol Villaneve is canon. This isn't up to debate, it /is/ very clear canon on the actual text of the actual show. Not up to debate. But it's just that it made me think about the villaneve relationship and how it is portrayed in the show and ofc this leads me back to Hannibal

on the surface KE and hannibal are pretty similar in the subject of its main relationships - a murderer (a serial killer for his own pleasure/a hired assassin that likes to have fun with her murders) obsessed with a FBI agent/MI5 operative who has dark tendencies that grows darker and darker with time

ofc they're also very different shows. I wouldn't call KE a fun, light show, but... it's certainly lighter than Hannibal. KE's humor is much more modern and hysterical, while Hannibal was a very dark humor, sometimes absurd and even 'goofy dark' (yes i'm calling the cannibal puns goofy, shut up). Villanelle's murders are filmed in a way that they don't feel as heavy as they should be because we're always in Villanelle's shoes in these scenes, while Hannibal's murders varies between (disturbing but) pretty aesthetic indifference/malice and genuinely gross/horrifying, etc etc etc

and the main difference between the main relationships in the show is that villaneve starts in a place of... let's say, a place of truth, because Eve pretty soon knows what Villanelle is, what she's capable of and she still develops a mutual obsession with her, while the hannigram relationship starts in a point of lies and deceit tangled with genuine fascination about their true natures, etc

and the result in my interpretation is that hannigram ends up having so much emotional intimacy and baggage in mutual ways, and not even the abuse, and Will's feelings of betrayal and hatred, and all the horrible fucked up things hannibal did to him and others can make will truly discard this relationship. they share an intimacy so powerful that neither hannibal nor will can shake it off and truly come back to the way they were before knowing each other, no matter how hard they try,

and while this is their mutual obsession at finest it's also the fact that they genuinely connect. that Will, thinking that Hannibal was no more than a good friend and his psychiatrist, was willing to sweep under the rug the fact that hannibal and abigail lied to the FBI and actually had hidden a body, because he cared that much, it's hannibal genuinely worried about will and relieved that will was alive despite the fact that he had sent a serial killer direct in his way. a powerful intimacy, so unique in the fact that they truly see each other that they can't really escape it, even knowing how mutual destructive this is to them and to everyone else in their way

now the villaneve relationship... in the early stages is totally based in their mutual obsession, really, that from the instant that eve and villanelle looked at each other's eyes something clicked, and they were doomed to obsession, but

but

while obsession is the starting point, I wouldn't say is the final call. obsession always remains, but curiosity soon enough plays a big role, curiosity because villaneve doesn't have much in KE s1 what hannigram has during s1 (and most of the others seasons as well); face-to-face interaction, time to know each other. all villanelle and eve have is curiosity and obsession and, i would say, fascination as well. and villanelle soon enough upped things up by killing Bill, turning their cat-and-mouse chase truly in something personal for Eve, not just another job, no

but s2, i was reflecting, quite changed the things and changed their dynamic with how much more time they spent together, far more than the stabbing did, in my perception. inevitable; having finally very concrete interactions with the object of their perception had to change things considerably. their relationship bizarrely enough turned sexual without them ever touching this way, with Eve having sex with Niko and then Hugo and thinking of Villanelle, Villanelle's "i'm not with them when i'm with them", very lewd, very chrystal clear, especially when during the same scene that villanelle says that Eve is the only one who makes her feel things,

and that's interesting, because it brings the other things that Villanelle does/feels this seasons. Heartbreak that Eve didn't show up to see her murder, giddy glee at doing random things with her, her kind of genuine tears at the group therapy, her rage and lack of composure when she hits Aaron Peel with the book, Konstantin,'s "You've gone soft" comment...

Eve's capable of awakening feelings on Villanelle, something clearly precious and rare for her, and that reason alone would be enough to justify how smitten Villanelle is towards Eve, really. Smitten enough to automatically assume that surely, it's gonna be the same for Eve, nothing else matters...

... but Eve operates differently than her. Eve's more integrated in a normal society than Villanelle ever was, has more barriers to break towards normalcy, and she can't. just break it. the way villanelle wishes she would

and that's like... my main curiosity for s3. What will Eve do, and how will she react? Despite her rejection of Villanelle, she was crying as she turned away to go. What will she do after being shot? What will she feel?

what does Eve feel?

Eve's mindset is hard to get for me - harder than Villanelle's, even. She starts with obsession, and it gains an air of vengeance after Bill's murder, but it keeps changing and changing and changing.

Stabbing Villanelle. Thinking about it all the time. Not really telling anyone (but Kenny) about it. Wanting her husband, but not really wanting him. Downright using people around her with little remorse.

what does Eve want?

eve kills a horrible man to save Villanelle's skin, but won't run away with her when she learns that Villanelle manipulated her in this kill. eve, in shock for the murder, outraged by the lie, won't run away with villanelle, but she was willing enough earlier to leave Hugo bleeding, possible to death, to save Villanelle - who really didn't need much saving, after all.

what will Eve do?

i'm still not sure, but i'm very much looking foward to this answer in s3.

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tanikawrites · 5 years

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Welcome to the Dark Side – We have Kiddies

‘The Promised Neverland’ PILOT Review

With so much to indulge in from the seamless animation, atmospheric score and debilitating action, it is hard to know where to start addressing how perfectly this horror story has been put together. Indeed, one would be hard pressed to argue that ’The Promised Neverland’ doesn’t deliver one of the most ambitious Pilots to date, many other critics and viewers agreeing that this tale of orphans attempting to escape from their malevolent ‘carers’ gives international anime moguls the likes of Attack on Titan a well-earned run for its money. We are immediately captivated by the mesmerising aesthetics as well as the engaging characters in our protagonists of Emma, Norman and Ray, but what is especially engaging is how sublime this production is - how beauty only enhances our experience of terror, and how refreshing it is that a narrative need not be rife with gore and violence in order to make us want to peel off our skin. MANY SPOILERS AHEAD

The plot essentially revolves around the thirty-seven orphans who live in supposedly blissful harmony at Grace Field House - a Victorian-esque establishment enshrined in woodlands where the children are free to do as they please; the three at the head of the ring being the sprightly Emma, ingenious Norman and pragmatic Ray. The only rule that is that the children are never allowed to approach the ‘gate’ or cross over the fence which snakes through the trees; for so long as everyone behaves under the ever-vigilant eyes of ‘Mom,’ there should be little to worry about. The existence of the gate in itself then is the immediate red flag that undercuts this bucolic reverie, the Pilot being quick to establish the essential parameters of the story (quite literally) so that we are made aware of the stakes from the inception. The gate is the very first shot we see as the three friends speculate about what lies beyond, this becoming more intriguing if one were able to compare this to Chihiro’s passing under the gate in Spirited Away. In that case, it was about the protagonist’s adventure to escape from the land of the spirits in order to return to where she belonged, so we are set up with a similar narrative yet with a distinctly darker undertone.

We still can’t exactly fathom why, however - is it the Professor Layton-esque background composition? The animation’s resonance with the sharpness of Tim Burton? Both these qualities in comparison to the colour and majesty of Miyazaki’s Oscar-winner sets the insidious charm of this anime into further relief, and if we are aware that Chihiro’s fate was to run into unruly spirits, we are led to dread what exactly lies beyond for our heroes here. After all, it isn’t difficult to become instantly attached to our heroes with Emma being established as a typical shonen-heroine. Athletic, full of beans and mollycoddling the other children, her charisma establishes her as the foremost protagonist that the action will mainly revolve around. Her companion Norman too comes across as kindly and affectionate, he being noted more for his status as a genius amongst the children, whilst the more reserved Ray is an object of mystery; spending most of the episode observing from the side.

The unfolding action soon divulges that the maximum age that the children are known to stay at the orphanage is twelve years (the three main protagonists already being eleven) and apparently as soon as the children leave to supposedly join their adoptive families, they never make contact again. The way we obtain this information then is incredibly effective in establishing that initial sense of unease and dread then as we learn this via the kids themselves. They lament over how their old friends never bother to visit or write, this being very telling of how it is not so much that they don’t - but can’t. It then becomes even more heart-rending when children start detailing their dreams about the lives they want to have once they leave the house, this causing you to squirm as the narrative is emphatic about the humanity of these kids and how easily the viewer can become invested in them. This then makes the truth of their situation more mortifying and our suspicions established at the beginning perhaps worse than justified. The house, their home, is a farm; their beloved Mom works to perfect meat for Demons, and the delicacy she specialises in are the kids, her ‘precious children,’ themselves. This revelation coming about when Emma and Norman sneak out to the gate to give Conny, one of their youngest and latest to leave the house, back her toy bunny, firmly establishes that the stakes are set and that the rest of this story will be a race of survival. The persistent motif of the clock suddenly makes sense; it is illustrated as looming in the background behind Norman and ticks ominously around the moment of truth. There are additional symbols that are established to evoke our curiosity like the red flowers growing out of Conny’s corpse, and the meaning behind the ID numbers tattooed to the children’s throats becomes increasingly formidable. But what is especially evocative is the role of the villain that is established in Mom. After all, throughout the episode, she has a smile plastered to her face and we frequently hear just how much the children - Conny and Emma in particular - love Mom very much. Now her expression is cold and mask-like, allowing us to make sense of how her former warmth seemed two-dimensional and her hugs mechanical, as she is nurturing not living beings but expensive merchandise. The use of expression and the music is the critical component of this terror - something which anime will perhaps always have the upper hand in over live-action as every detail is able to cut into us far more seamlessly than any real human expression can. As is common in anime, the most particularly captivating aspect is the eyes, and in the gothic fashion, they really are the windows to the soul - the perfect insight into how Emma and Norman’s realities have been ripped apart to become void and null.

This is only doubly effective of course due to the execution of each scene in the anime, as one moment of normality will be suddenly undercut by terrified eyes and make us seize in turn. This is even more pronounced with the use of music as it is usually a relaxed or jazzy accompaniment of the action but will be cut and jarred suddenly by screeches or silence. This is taken the fullest advantage of then in that final shot of the Pilot as we initially see Norman trying to comfort a bereft Emma with the promise of escape. The music which accompanies this is a heavenly soothing chorus, a typical melody to embellish that sense of hope, only to be horrifically punctured with a shot of Mom’s that will knock the wind out of you every single time. She’s holding Conny’s bunny and we’re thinking the same thing: she knows.

So the horse has bolted - the game more than any harmless round of tag but a trial of life and death. What makes that final shot even more significant is how we might be used to being presented with seemingly unconquerable odds in all forms of media, but this anime wants to firmly establish how this is going to be more difficult and disturbing a journey than most. This Pilot has completely distorted the meaning of ‘Neverland’ forever, as Peter Pan’s concept of children never growing up has been awfully literalised. The place we once wanted to run away to now has become that which we are desperate to sprint away from, the irony being that you could not be more excited to see how Emma, Norman and Ray are inevitably going to be forced to make their first move.

Tanika Lane

Image (Gifs) Credit: dragonsofarcadia, kizunah, mangastream

#the promised neverland #tpn #yakusoku no neverland #ynn #ynn spoilers #pilot #review #own writing #filmsandtelevision #animation

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jakeremake · 5 years

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Dimethyltriptamine - an HP fanfic

The human mind is a wondrous thing. A solid mass of nerve tissue, nothing more, nothing less. Sixteen million neurons, sixteen million synapses, and that is all it is. A collection of atoms. If you were to pull each atom out, one by one, you'd be left with just a giant mass of carbon, and nitrogen, hydrogen and phosphor. But combined together it forms a grey, wrinkled mass that is the very basis of life itself. And enclosed within this mass of cells that control everything, every thought, every memory, every touch, every sight, smell, taste and feeling, but not actually a part of the brain itself, is another mass of cells.

This second mass of cells is surrounded on all sides by a thin layer of tissue, the same sort of tissue that separates the nerves of the spinal chord from the spine itself. Protective tissue. Separating this gland from the brain. The pineal gland-the name for this gland-has had a firm place in mythology. It has been called the third eye, capable of seeing into the future, and indeed, that description is not that far from the truth. In other animals, the gland exists as well, to serve as a light indicator, informing the animal when to sleep, when to awake, regulating the rhythms of the body.

In a human, it has a similar effect. It produces melanin, a common protein. Used in the regulation of sleep. It controls circadian rhythms, and affects the start of puberty. Except, however, in the moment before death. In that second before death, when the heart starts on it's last beat, when the lungs take in their last breath, when the muscles-all of them-relax, when contents of the bowels and bladder are spilled forth, this little gland, enveloped by the brain secretes another chemical – dimethyltryptamine

When this chemical is released, it floods the brain, rather suddenly. The effect it has on the brain is rather interesting. DMT-as it is commonly abbreviated-is a hallucinogenic drug, commonly occurring in other natural sources. Sources, such as the phalaris grass. It is a chemical that is traced back to many Central American shamanic practices because of the intense, profound experience that each user has.

All of this happens in the blink of an eye.

There is the saying that time flies when one is having fun. There is also the thought that time slows down in two situations. One is when one is interminably bored, and the other is when it seems everything is happening at once.

This situation was the latter.

He was sure that the last moments of his life were taking an eternity. He had felt the two fangs pierce his skin. He had felt the sudden rush of air into the skin itself. He had felt the hot blood bubble forth. He had felt it, with each beat of his heart, as it sprayed forward, covering him in sticky, red, wetness. He'd never realized just how dark blood was before. He'd never seen this much of his own blood before.

The floor was solid beneath him, it had surprised him that the floor held that well. That it was able to take the shock of a fully grown man falling on it with nothing more than a cloud of dust. Dust that tickled his nose, and yet he could not sneeze. He felt his fingers scrabbling across the smooth wood, rather against his will. He didn't know why they were doing that, simply that they were.

And suddenly green eyes were standing over him. Briliant green eyes. Green eyes that he would never forget until the day he died. He felt his lips curling up into a smile, but then a lock of black hair fell over them. Black hair, that wasn't right. It was supposed to be red hair. Hair, the color of the sky the moment before the sun dips over the horizon. Black, black was tainted, it was a tainted color, a pained color. Black should not be hanging over those vibrant eyes.

He knew what had to be done. He couldn't go without it. It was selfish of him to do this, and he knew it. Selfish to want to make the boy see his side of the story. He was doing nothing but redeeming himself. But he had spent enough of his life suffering for the boy, he had to make it known why.

Those who have dabbled with using DMT recreationally say that one of the most common signs of the come-up, the beginnings of a DMT expierence, or "trip" is a bright white light above them. And the urge to go towards that light.

He could see it above him. The white light, beckoning for him. So bright. So warm. So inviting. He could feel memories spitting out from him, and he did not know how to control it. The only thing he knew was this warm feeling. He was slightly afraid of it, it couldn't be natural. He felt like he was going to die. He knew he was going to die.

The ceiling above him was changing into a motley of colors. A rainbow, changing and expanding and reforming, and he stared at it transfixed. Gold, bright gold, so pure. And red-red the color of the middle of the fire, where it was giving way to yellow, that brilliant deep red with just the slightest tinge of orange to it. But most of all, that green. The color of grass in the park where they used to play. Such a pretty, pretty green.

A voice was rasping out somewhere. "Take it...take it..." It didn't sound very healthy. It was a gurgle, as if they were drowning. He supposed it would be a nice voice if it wasn't drowning. A deep baritone. But the gasping and the rasping made it rather less aesthetic. Someone should pull him out of the lake, or whatever he was drowning in, lest that smoky voice be lost forever.

They say that in the last second before you die, that one's life flashes before their eyes. Played back as if it is a movie. It is unsure if DMT plays any role in this. While it is a powerful psychadelic, all trip reports on the drug have mentioned everything but this phenomina.

He was vaugely aware, of somewhere in this mess of colors that she was there. She was all he could think about. The first time he saw her-that bright red hair, it had been even brighter in her youth, and those green eyes. Crouched behind a bush, leaves tangling in his hair as he watched her go back and forth and back and forth on the swings. Each strand of hair seeming to get caught separately in the breeze, fanning out behind her like a red carpet, leading up to the greatest star of all.

He smiled up at the image, but it shifted before he could stop it. They were on the train platform now, and she was sobbing, and he wanted to help her. To comfort her. The red of the train was the only thing he had ever seen that could rival her hair. He didn't like this movie. She shouldn't be crying. Those green eyes looked less pretty when surrounded by pink.

Then they were in school, the great stone walls of the castle, everything was happening so fast. It seemed as if they went from first year through seventh so quickly. He was dangling from his ankle, he was seeing the look of pain in those green eyes at the one word that had broken a frienship down. He had seen the eyes that had gone from shining brightly with anger one second suddenly become dull and shadowed the next with the muttering of one word.

He didn't want to watch this anymore. The movie was still playing, fickering around the edges. But he focused instead on the colors. Watching the gold move across the ceiling, and the red shifting out of the way before enveloping the gold. Watching the green pulse and throb, swirling through both other colors with such careless ease.

His eyes flicked back to the movie. There was a hilltop, dark, ominous. He knew this place. This was where he had turned to Dumbledore. This was when he learned that one man could not fix everything. It was too dark, the jet of white light was too blinding. It should have been a jet of green. It should have been a jet of green-a different green than the color of her eyes. a poisoned green. A sickly green.

He didn't like this movie, and he tried to not watch it, but he couldn't help it. There was the sound of scuffling feet, and he wondered where it was coming from. It was almost deafening. And again, the dust tickled his nose and again, he could not sneeze. He just wanted this to be over with. Done.

He watched as he found himself flying back to this place. He liked the flying, it was the one thing he hadn't regretted learning. It was relaxing. It was soothing. To be floating over a black sky that looked like painted velvet, looking down at darkened trees and streets with little lights lit, like stars below insted of above.

And then he was inside, the peeling paint staring back at him. And then there was the Dark Lord. Pale, with tough, leathery skin that seemed to be comprised of scales than smooth dermal cells. And then there were the fangs searing into him again, and he was back here, a plesant warm feeling spreading throughout and growing. And he was flying again.

As one dabbles with certain stronger hallucinogens, there is a certain phenomena known as ego-death. When one's mind becomes seperate from one's body. When the sense of self is completely lost. It is terrifying to those who are not expecting it, and is most often the cause of "bad trips" by those experimenting with psychedelic drugs.

He was so relaxed. So warm. So comfortable. Those green eyes were back again. He wanted nothing more than to see them. To stare at them. They were so incredibly transfixing. He could see each line in them. They went to turn away, and he found himself grabbing the robes, to keep those eyes there. To stare at them. "Look at me" The voice rasped out again.

The robes were soft in his hand. They were finely made. Even covered in dirt and ripped half to shreds they were soft. One of Madame Malkin's better cuts. They felt so nice against his skin. So very nice indeed. They went so well with this nice warm feeling that was spreading through him. He felt like he was in heaven. He certainly was no longer on earth, there was no way he could be on earth with the way he felt. It was as if he was floating.

And he could stare into those green eyes forever. They weren't a pure green though. It was a dark green, an emerald green as the base, shot through with streaks of gold here and there. Gold that sparkled in the sun. He had fallen in love with those eyes. He would give his heart over to those eyes. They were just so-he couldn't find a word to describe them. Not now.

The black hair had stopped existing. The signs of a tainted soul had stopped existing. Somewhere, he was vaguely aware of his grip on the robes relaxing, the soft material slipping through his hands, his hands turning a dark brown as the still-wet blood combined with the dirt on the cloak to turn it into mud. But it did not matter to him. All that mattered were those two emerald orbs. They looked so pretty above him. So shiny. They were like a mobile above a child's crib. So tempting there. So soothing there.

They were the only thing that mattered. He couldn't even feel his body anymore, and he did not care. He had the green in front of him, and the kalidescope on the ceiling. That was all that mattered to him. The colors. The warmth. He didn't need to exist anymore. He didn't need to have a body. He didn't want to have a body, it was only weighing him down.

It is speculated that the release of DMT is an evolutionary adaptation to ease the mind into death. There are noted effects-hallucinations, most notably color shifting-bathing the world in red, gold and green- and the shifting of the perception of time. Making it seem as if one moment lasts for eternity. It is speculated to prepare the mind, and the soul, for the afterlife, making the transition from living to nonliving as easy on the mind as possible.

He felt as though he was floating, higher and higher towards the sky. Towards that wonderful blend of colors on the ceiling. There was red. There was gold. And most of all, there was that bright vibrant green. He was reaching for the green. The green was the most important of them all. It was so bright, so important. It was the only thing that mattered anymore.

He just kept floating further and further up, until the green was all around him. Wrapping around him like a safe, secure blanket. Keeping him warm. He was safe in the green. He was safe. He was protected. He felt as if he were coming home to a place he had left long ago. And for the first time that he could remember in more years than he could count, he was happy.

#fanfic #harry potter #severus snape #deathly hallows #originally a snarky fic

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decadentrpg-blog · 5 years

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WELCOME AJ, YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF EVANDER LUPIN

Admins Note: Evander Lupin finally arriving to the scene! I love every aspect that you included about Evander, I really felt the turmoil he carries from within. From the head cannons to the sample paragraph, I got a great clear view of what he cherishes, his character and his morals. The aesthetic addition in your application was also yet another very nice touch! I’m so excited to see him on the dash among the rest of the crew! Congratulations on your acceptance again, please make sure to head your way to the checklist and submit your account within the next 24 hours!

Out of Character

Name / Alias: AJ

Pronouns: She/Her and They/Them

Age: 23

Timezone: Mountain

In Character Application

Full Name: Evander Kęstutis Lupin

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender/Pronouns: Cis-male, He/Him

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor.

Head canons:

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death, Suicidal Thoughts (?), Excessive Drinking, Past Alcoholism

Family

His family had risen in the face of adversity, gaining riches and prestige when before the name Lupin was buried in a sea obscurity. A mixture between luck and determination had changed fate for the name Lupin. His father had been a successful wizarding lawyer with a knack for investments who rose to the top of a prestigious law firm and his mother had been a muggleborn Healer. Years later after meeting, Evander was born in the middle of tempestuous storm late in the afternoon October 26, twenty-eight years ago, to the joy of his parents. He grew up in loving household, looking up to his father and the kindness of his mother. And then came Camille, a sister who Evander doted on, protected, and argued with. It was perfect for Evander. He was perfectly content to debate with his father while playing wizarding chess (though Evander often lost), play the piano with his mother, and dance with his sister. He grew up where his family was his world.

Her

Evander never expect it to end like this. He had approached her, a smile on his lips and a plan in his mind, willing to hurt anyone in anyway he could to get the names he craved. He saw her as a tool, a way to pry the Pride Society apart, brick by brick until their pure blood ran through his hands and stained his teeth. But Dahlia, she was so unexpected. Sweet and willing to look past the monster he had been creating himself into with rebellious stars in her eyes. He ran them through conversations, trying to trip her up, to admit the bias she had towards him and all like him. He torn down the gilded lies she was raised on in the cruelest ways possible to deliver the truth and all she had done was thanked him, kissed him, lips sweet with cigarette smoke. She wrapped his heart in chain, past the walls of fire and the iron walls that had blocked all but a few out. Evander loves her. Its frightening to touch her soft skin and run his hands through her hair, knowing just how much he would do for her. The buried kindness peaks out behind the burning flames of anger, his blood-stained hands gentle as they hold her, eyes softening in her visage.

Facing Fear

Once upon a time, when Evander could smile without the bitterness of loss, he ran across a Boggart in Hogwarts. It wasn’t suspiring to him to see the death of his family. But back then in the arrogance of youth, while the imagines haunted him, Evander had been able to easier overcome the boggarts attempt. After all, that would never happen to his family. But it did and now Evander asks, what is the boggart of a man who has had his worst fear realized, the nightmare turned into a reality? He doesn’t want to find out. Because Evander can guess. He doesn’t fear being the monster he is, the vicious being in the dark willing to set the whole world on fire, drenching them all in blood. No Evander can imagine the brutalized bodies of those he still has with him (Darius, Dahlia, Zephyra), in the way his family were killed. He fears being alone again, knowing that without them he would sure get himself killing taking as many of them out as he could.

A Dose of Something That Doesn’t Numb the Pain

Evander barely drinks now, just enough to put on airs of acceptance. Alcohol has never brought anything good in his life. The night his family were killed, he had been at some wretched party in a brown liquored haze. He had arrived much too late to help his family and much too drunk to help himself. He had spent months and months on end at the bottom of a bottle, hoping the tears would stop and the pain would numb. Once the numbness came, he drank and drank hoping for the burn, to feel anything. Darius helped him, as his best mate always has (why he would do anything for him), leading him from the drink. He still craves it sometimes, but his willpower is stronger than any Prohibition. Tea and coffee became replacements for the drink with the added benefit of keeping him awake after long nights that leave bags under his eyes.

Aren’t You the Big Bad Wolf?

The first time Evander had produced a patronus it had taken the visage of a St. Bernard. Loving and loyal and especially protective towards family members. Evander had been ecstatic with the large, friendly dog for years. Then came that night, the once that changed everything. His family gone, killed, and Evander alone and suffering through the loss. The cold and numb of grief overcame his every attempt at a patronus for over a year. And then the numb was washed away with anger and a desire for vengeance. For every one of those bigots to pay for his mother’s screams and his sister’s blood splattered across her face. Another year passed and the anger burned and burned until it banked, always there but simmering, just waiting for more fuel ready to be added at a moment’s notice. And dashes of happiness returned with Darius, his brother in all but blood. Springing from his wand, there is now and evermore a grey wolf, a lone wolf searching, snarling and ready to tear the world apart in his burning need for retribution and to protect all that remains.

Weapon Clutched in his Hand

11 ¾ inches, Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring, Unbending

In Character Paragraph:

A Shifting Wind

Eyes shooting open, Evander shot up out of bed with a snarl spread across his lips as the familiar nightmare branded itself onto the inside of the eyelids. He shivered slightly as the cool air hit his heated, bare chest. Hands ran through his sweat soaked hair once before coming to rest on his face. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was absurdly early, like always. It was always too early (Why was he always too early or too late?). Taking a deep breath, he kicked down the pale sheets and swung his legs over the bed, making sure to grab his wand from its place on his bedside table. From experience, Evander knew there was no reason to try and sleep again. The branded images wouldn’t go away, not unless he sated a need. He needed to do something and not be trapped within four walls, waiting for the despair to destroy him.

But there was nothing he could do, not right now in the middle of the city. He sighed as he made his way out to his living room, where his mother’s piano still laid. A finger brushed across the ivory surface as melancholy crashed upon him. Slumping onto the seat in front of the piano, he stared at the keys. When was the last time he had played? A few days before that night, the night when his whole world was cruelly ripped away. His hands clenched as he brought a fist onto the keys. A defining calamity of notes reverberated through the room. Eyes closed tightly, he placed his hands on the white keys already comparing the images in his mind. Hands changed by time and his desire to destroy every Pride Society piker with callouses and split knuckles. He paused right before pressing down, thinking of how everything was colored by that night.

He couldn’t play it. Not yet, not now. He would one day if he didn’t die on his road for revenge. Standing and summoning some clothes, he dressed. He had promised himself no more wallowing. It’s why he was here in the good ol’ United States anyway. Evander was going to get even and then some. A smirk spread across his face, his jaw taunt as he made his way out into the New York City night.

Fight Till They All Know What’s Within

TW: Blood, Violence, Fighting

Evander wiped at the hot dripping under his nose, not caring for more blood to tinge his hand as he stared at the bloodied man on the ground, getting a glance of his watch as he fell back into form. He was late, very late. A Faux pas, Dahlia would say, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about being late. Not when he had to take care of this sap. Lips peeled back and eyes narrowed, he stomped down on the man’s chest. The gasped “Jeepers Creepers” from the man brought a twisted smirk to his face. “Dry up and you leave that Jane alone. You hear?” Evander snarled at the man while pulling the man up by his lapels, slightly shaking him. The bruised man rapidly nodded and Evander glared at the man, trying to see if he was telling the truth. Disgust flashed across his face at the frightened expression that he saw there. “Get!” He ordered and let go, satisfied with the way the man crawled backwards and ran off. Once he was gone, Evander looked around for the doll he had saved from that man’s harsh, pulling grasp. He didn’t see her and just hoped that she got to safety.

Straightening his suit jacket with a shake, he turned and continued on his way to the Cotton Club. He ignored the stares he was getting on his way, not concerned with the muggles staring at his rumpled suit and the blood striped across his hands. In what felt like no time at all, Evander saw the sign of the Cotton Club and Darius’ blond hair under the shining lights. He smiled at the sight of his best mate, glad that the other man just glanced at his blood-soaked cuffs and the red remains under his nose. Darius understood, better than anyone just what they meant and why Evander fights muggles. The need for relief against everyone who deserved Evander’s fist to their face, everyone until they got to the ones who had taken their families. “Is it gone?” He asked Darius after wiping the dried blood. Once he wouldn’t have cared if the left-over blood stained his face, but he knew either rumors would reach Dahlia’s ears or perhaps she would be here tonight. He didn’t want to worry her. Clapping Darius on the shoulder, he started on side. “Come on! Let’s get edged.”

Extras:

https://www.pinterest.com/ajninkon/evander-lupin/

Song Inspo

Blood on My Name- The Brother Bright

Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea- MISSIO

DEVIL- Shinedown

Sunflower- Post Malone & Swae Lee

Run -AWOLNATION

Hunt You Down- Hit House ft Ruby Friedman

Aesthetics

Going to sleep with the rising sun and waking moments later, nightmares never far behind. Impossible to be content with staying still. A duality of high-class suits and battered leather jackets. Lips tasting champagne and only desiring the burn of something strong to bank the flames. Smoke on his lips and hers. Afraid of loving again, afraid of what they could wrought. Secrets he never meant to get in the way of an unbreakable bond. Kindness buried beneath vengeance rising. Fighting with fists, fighting with wands. Split lips and bloodied knuckles, a smile drowned in blood. A shield and weapon all in one body. Prepared to bleed and die for a cause. Shaking it off every pureblood rhetoric in the face of what is right.

#lsrpg #lsrp #hprp #hprpg #harry potter rp #accepted

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gross00ernst-blog · 5 years

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