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Magnify Your Beauty with the Russian Lip Filler Technique
Discover the innovative Russian Lip Filler Technique, a popular method for achieving fuller, more defined lips. Learn about the procedure and its benefits.
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10 Ways to Add Sizzle to Your Boring Writing
Writing that sizzles captures the reader's attention and keeps them engaged from start to finish. Whether you're an experienced writer or just starting out, there are several techniques you can use to make your writing more exciting and dynamic. Here are ten detailed ways to add sizzle to your boring writing:
1. Use Vivid Descriptions
Vivid descriptions bring your writing to life by creating a rich, immersive experience for the reader. Instead of relying on generic or bland language, use specific details that appeal to the senses. Describe how things look, sound, smell, taste, and feel to paint a vivid picture.
In Detail:
Visual Descriptions: Use color, shape, and size to create a mental image. Instead of saying "The car was old," say "The rusty, olive-green car wheezed as it pulled into the driveway."
Sound Descriptions: Incorporate onomatopoeia and detailed sound descriptions. Instead of "The music was loud," say "The bass thumped, and the high notes pierced through the night air."
Smell and Taste Descriptions: Use sensory language. Instead of "The food was good," say "The aroma of roasted garlic and herbs filled the room, and the first bite was a burst of savory flavors."
2. Show, Don't Tell
"Show, don't tell" is a fundamental writing principle that means revealing information through actions, thoughts, dialogue, and sensory details rather than straightforward exposition. This approach makes your writing more engaging and allows readers to experience the story.
In Detail:
Actions Over Exposition: Instead of telling the reader "Jane was scared," show her fear through her actions: "Jane's hands trembled as she fumbled with the lock, her breath coming in shallow gasps."
Dialogue: Use conversations to reveal character traits and emotions. Instead of "John was angry," show his anger through his words and tone: "John's voice was a low growl as he said, 'I can't believe you did this.'"
Internal Thoughts: Reveal characters' inner worlds. Instead of "Emma felt relieved," show her relief: "Emma let out a long breath she didn't realize she was holding and sank into the chair, a smile tugging at her lips."
3. Create Relatable Characters
Relatable characters are crucial for keeping readers invested in your story. Characters should have depth, including strengths, weaknesses, desires, and fears. When readers see aspects of themselves in your characters, they're more likely to care about their journeys.
In Detail:
Character Flaws: Give your characters realistic flaws. A perfect character can be boring and unrelatable. Show how these flaws impact their decisions and relationships.
Character Arcs: Ensure your characters grow and change throughout the story. A well-crafted character arc can turn a good story into a great one.
Background and Motivations: Provide backstories and motivations. Why does your character act the way they do? What drives them? This adds depth and makes them more three-dimensional.
4. Add Dialogue
Dialogue can break up large blocks of text and make your writing more dynamic. It reveals character, advances the plot, and provides opportunities for conflict and resolution. Ensure your dialogue sounds natural and serves a purpose.
In Detail:
Natural Speech: Write dialogue that sounds like real conversation, complete with interruptions, pauses, and colloquial language. Avoid overly formal or stilted speech.
Purposeful Dialogue: Every line of dialogue should have a purpose, whether it's revealing character, advancing the plot, or building tension. Avoid filler conversations that don't add to the story.
Subtext: Use subtext to add depth. Characters might say one thing but mean another, revealing their true feelings through what they don't say directly.
5. Use Strong Verbs
Strong verbs make your writing more vivid and energetic. They convey action and emotion effectively, making your sentences more powerful and engaging.
In Detail:
Action Verbs: Choose verbs that show precise actions. Instead of "She went to the store," say "She dashed to the store."
Avoid Weak Verbs: Replace weak verbs and verb phrases with stronger alternatives. Instead of "He was walking," say "He strode."
Emotionally Charged Verbs: Use verbs that convey specific emotions. Instead of "She was sad," say "She wept."
6. Vary Sentence Structure
Varying sentence structure keeps your writing interesting and prevents it from becoming monotonous. Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, more complex ones to create a rhythm that engages readers.
In Detail:
Short Sentences for Impact: Use short sentences to create tension, urgency, or emphasize a point. "He stopped. Listened. Nothing."
Complex Sentences for Detail: Use longer sentences to provide detailed descriptions or explain complex ideas. "As the sun set behind the mountains, the sky transformed into a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples, casting a warm glow over the serene landscape."
Combine Different Structures: Mix simple, compound, and complex sentences to maintain a natural flow. Avoid repetitive patterns that can make your writing feel flat.
7. Introduce Conflict
Conflict is the driving force of any story. It creates tension and keeps readers invested in the outcome. Without conflict, your story can become stagnant and uninteresting.
In Detail:
Internal Conflict: Characters should struggle with internal dilemmas, fears, and desires. This adds depth and relatability.
External Conflict: Introduce obstacles and challenges that characters must overcome. This can be other characters, societal pressures, or natural forces.
Resolution: Show how conflicts are resolved, leading to character growth and plot progression. Ensure resolutions feel earned and satisfying.
8. Use Metaphors and Similes
Metaphors and similes add creativity and depth to your writing. They help readers understand complex ideas and emotions by comparing them to familiar experiences.
In Detail:
Metaphors: Directly state that one thing is another to highlight similarities. "Time is a thief."
Similes: Use "like" or "as" to make comparisons. "Her smile was like sunshine on a rainy day."
Avoid Clichés: Create original comparisons rather than relying on overused phrases. Instead of "busy as a bee," find a fresh analogy.
9. Create Suspense
Suspense keeps readers on the edge of their seats, eager to find out what happens next. Use foreshadowing, cliffhangers, and unanswered questions to build tension and anticipation.
In Detail:
Foreshadowing: Drop subtle hints about future events. This creates anticipation and a sense of inevitability.
Cliffhangers: End chapters or sections with unresolved tension or unanswered questions to compel readers to keep going.
Pacing: Control the pace of your story to build suspense. Slow down for crucial moments and speed up during action scenes.
10. Edit Ruthlessly
Great writing often emerges during the editing process. Be willing to cut unnecessary words, tighten your prose, and refine your sentences. Editing improves clarity, pace, and overall readability.
In Detail:
Cut Redundancies: Remove unnecessary words and repetitive phrases. "In my opinion, I think" can be reduced to "I think."
Focus on Clarity: Ensure each sentence conveys its intended meaning clearly and concisely.
Proofread: Check for grammar, punctuation, and spelling errors. A polished manuscript reflects professionalism and attention to detail.
#writeblr#writing#creative writing#thewriteadviceforwriters#writing tips#writers block#on writing#writers and poets#how to write#novel writing#writing blog#writing advice#writer#authoradvice#author#book writing#women writers#fiction#authors on tumblr#novelist#writer stuff#female writers#fiction writing#fantasy novel#novel
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rekindled bonds (1)
introduction, part one, part two.
description: your first case with the bau team turns out to be more intense than you had anticipated.
pairing: spencer reid x bau agent!fem!reader
contains: talks of typical criminal minds violence (abductions, serial murders, etc.), a little fluff at the end.
song rec: trouble by cage the elephant- "you know what they say, yeah, the wicked get no rest"
w.c: 3.8k
an: let me know if you want to be apart of the taglist for this series! not much reader x spencer (i got carried away, whoops), this is more of a filler chapter i suppose.
the hum of the plane's engines was a soothing white noise that filled the cabin, providing a stark contrast to the caffeine-fueled chatter that had filled the bau office mere hours ago. you looked out the small window, watching the clouds pass by like cotton balls painted onto the vast blue canvas of the sky.
derek morgan, your new colleague, took the seat beside you, his muscular frame fitting surprisingly well into the cramped space. "so, you two go way back, huh?" he asked, nodding towards spencer reid, who was deeply engrossed in a book sitting at a matching table across the aisle from the two of you.
you felt a mix of excitement and nostalgia bubbling up as you turned to face him. "yeah, we were inseparable when we were kids. can you believe it's been over a decade since we last saw each other?"
derek leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "small world, huh?" he said. "i can't even keep track of half my college buddies. but you two pick up right where you left off, like no time has passed at all."
you nodded, watching as spencer looked up from his book, catching your eye. a silent understanding passed between you, the kind that comes from years of shared secrets and stolen laughter. "it's like we have a mental shorthand," you said, turning back to derek. "spencer always knew what i was thinking, even before i did."
"sounds like you guys had quite the bond," said, his eyes flicking over to the young genius. "how'd you end up here, with all the brainiacs?"
you chuckled, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest. "i studied psychology and criminology. got recruited right out of grad school."
derek raised an eyebrow. "impressive. so, what's your specialty?"
"profiling and interrogation techniques, mostly," you replied, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice. it was one thing to know you were capable; it was another to explain it to someone with years of experience under their belt. "i've always had a knack for understanding people, even when they don't want to be understood."
derek's smile grew wider. "you're gonna fit right in here, then." he clapped you on the shoulder before standing up, his tall, muscular frame casting a brief shadow over you. "welcome to the team. we're gonna need all the fresh perspectives we can get on this one."
his words of encouragement sent a jolt of excitement through your veins. "thanks, morgan," you said, as he made his way down the aisle to check in with the rest of the team. you watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and trepidation.
with a deep breath, you opened the case file that had been placed on the table in front of you. the cold, stark reality of the situation settled in your stomach like a rock. the smiling faces of the victims stared back at you from glossy photos, each one a silent plea for justice.
spencer looked up from his book, noticing the shift in your demeanor. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle inquiry in the buzz of the aircraft.
you nodded, but your eyes remained glued to the case file. "it's just… these people," you murmured, flipping through the pages. "i've studied cases like this before, but now it's real. we're going to be the ones trying to save them."
spencer closed his book and slid it aside, his gaze earnest and understanding. "i know it's tough, but you're not alone. we're all in this together."
you managed a small smile, grateful for his reassurance. "yeah, i know." you paused, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. "but it's just so… heavy."
spencer leaned across the aisle, his brown eyes searching yours. "it's okay to feel that way," he said softly. "this job, it's not easy. it's not supposed to be. but we do it because we can make a difference."
his words hung in the air, resonating with the solemn truth of your new reality. you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "you're right," you murmured, closing the file. "i just need to remember that."
two hours later, the plane touched down in chicago, the bustling city sprawling out beneath you like a patchwork quilt of steel and glass. as the team gathered their belongings and deplaned, you felt the weight of the case settle heavier on your shoulders. the adrenaline of reuniting with spencer had given way to the gravity of the task ahead.
once you arrived at the local precinct, you were ushered into a briefing room that smelled faintly of stale coffee and stress. rows of uniformed officers and detectives filled the space, their eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces of the bau team. spencer took a seat beside you, his hand briefly brushing against yours in a gesture of comfort.
the lead detective, a stern-looking woman with a no-nonsense attitude, began laying out extra details of the case. the victims were all young women, each found in a different part of the city, their bodies slashed in a way that suggested a twisted form of ritual. the mood grew heavier with each detail she shared, the air thick with the weight of unspoken fear and anger.
spencer's fingers tapped a rhythm on the armrest, his eyes distant as he listened intently. you knew that look; he was already piecing together the puzzle, his mind racing with hypotheses and theories. you felt a twinge of envy - his intellect was something you had always admired, but also something that had made you feel a bit like you were playing catch-up.
the briefing ended and the team dispersed to their designated tasks. as you and spencer headed to the local morgue, the stark reality of the case hit you like a cold slap in the face. the smell of antiseptic and the cold, sterile environment were a stark reminder of what was at stake.
the coroner, a middle-aged man with a gentle demeanor, led you to the first body. "this is the earliest victim," he said, pulling back the sheet. "same m.o. as the others." the sight was gruesome, but you steeled yourself, focusing on the details that could provide a clue to the killer's identity.
spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he studied the pattern of the injuries. "the precision of the cuts suggests a certain level of experience or a professional background," he murmured. "possibly medical or military training."
the coroner nodded in agreement, his expression grim. "i noticed that as well. it's almost… surgical in nature."
you tried to keep your stomach from turning as you took in the gruesome sight. the precision of the cuts was unsettling, each one deliberate and calculated. "anything else that stands out to you, reid?"
spencer's eyes flitted over the body, his mind racing. "the lack of defensive wounds suggests that the victims were either taken by surprise or incapacitated before the attack. we should look into any reports of missing persons or unsolved abductions that fit the profile."
his phone buzzed in his pocket, the sound cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. he pulled it out, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the unfamiliar number. "excuse me," he murmured, stepping out of the room to answer.
his voice was tight with tension as he spoke. "reid."
spencer stepped back into the room, his expression a mask of professional calm, though his eyes had a haunted look to them. "we've got another one," he said, his voice low. "another abduction, same m.o."
you felt your stomach drop. "how recent?"
spencer checked his phone again. "less than two hours ago. the unsub is escalating."
you nodded, gritting your teeth. "we need to move fast."
spencer agreed, his eyes flashing with determination. "i'll have garcia run the latest intel through the system, see if we can find any connections or patterns."
you followed him out of the morgue, feeling the urgency of the situation pressing down on you like a physical force. as you made your way back to the precinct, the chilly wind cut through your jacket, a stark reminder of the race against time you were in.
once back at the precinct, spencer wasted no time in telling garcia what he neede from her. he dove into his laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he sifted through the latest data she sent. you could see the gears in his mind turning, piecing together the puzzle of the unsub's behavior. the room was abuzz with activity, phones ringing and officers moving back and forth with new information, but the two of you remained in a bubble of focused concentration.
prentiss, called everyone to attention. "we need to identify the common link between these victims and find a way to predict where the unsub will strike next." her gaze landed on you. "you're our newest addition, what's your take?"
you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you. "the unsub seems to be targeting young women with a certain look, possibly similar to someone he has an obsession with or feels wronged by." you paused, glancing at spencer, who nodded in silent encouragement. "we should look into any recent events that might have triggered this spree - a breakup, job loss, or a significant anniversary."
prentiss nodded thoughtfully. "good point. let's get to work on that."
as the team dispersed to follow up on various leads, you and spencer remained at the board, surrounded by the stark images of the victims and the cold, hard facts of their cases. you felt a sudden pang of doubt, wondering if your theories would hold water in the face of such a cunning and elusive killer.
spencer, sensing your uncertainty, placed a hand on your shoulder. "we're going to catch him," he said, his voice steady and calm. "you just have to trust your instincts."
his confidence bolstered yours, and you nodded, rolling up your sleeves. together, you began to sift through the files, looking for any shred of information that could lead to the unsub's identity. as the hours ticked by, the tension in the room grew palpable. phones rang incessantly, and the murmur of hushed conversations filled the air.
finally, a break came in the form of a frantic call from the local pd. a suspect had been identified, a man named james conrad, with a history of stalking and assault. your heart raced as you and spencer grabbed your gear and followed the rest of the team to the suspect's house, the adrenaline making your senses sharp.
the neighborhood was eerily quiet, the only sounds the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant wail of a siren. the house was a small, nondescript bungalow, the kind that could easily blend into the suburban landscape if not for the squad cars that lined the street in front of it. as you approached, you could see the curtains twitching in the windows, a sign of life inside.
spencer's hand tightened on the grip of his gun as he scanned the area, his eyes missing nothing. "remember, we don't know what we're walking into," he murmured, his voice low and serious. "stay sharp."
you nodded, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you approached the house with the rest of the team. the silence was unnerving, broken only by the crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional squawk of a distant bird. the house looked like any other on the block, but the knowledge of the horrors that could be occurring inside sent a shiver down your spine.
as the team fanned out, you and spencer took the lead, moving up the cracked concrete path to the front door. prentiss was on the phone with the local swat team, giving the final go-ahead for them to move in. the air was electric with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle and your pulse race.
spencer turned to you, his eyes intense. "we're going in low and fast. we need to find that girl." the gravity of the situation settled on your shoulders like a heavy cloak.
you nodded, feeling the cool metal of your gun pressing against your side. "got it."
with a swift nod from prentiss, the team moved into action. the door was kicked in, and you rushed inside, your senses on high alert. the house was cluttered, the air thick with the smell of stale cigarettes and something else, something that made your stomach turn. you moved quickly, following spencer's lead as he cleared each room with a practiced efficiency that spoke of years on the job.
the living room was a mess, newspapers and fast food containers scattered across the floor. the walls were covered in photos of the victims, their faces cut out and arranged in a disturbing mosaic of obsession. your eyes darted over the scene, searching for any sign of the latest abductee. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a silent plea for her to be found alive.
spencer paused in the doorway to the kitchen, his gaze flicking to the basement door. "this way," he murmured, his voice tight with focus.
you followed him down the narrow staircase, the creaks echoing through the otherwise silent house. the basement was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of mold and despair. the walls were lined with shelves filled with books and knick-knacks, a stark contrast to the horrors you knew you might find.
spencer took point, his gun held steady in front of him. the beam of his flashlight bobbed as he moved, casting eerie shadows on the floor. your heart was racing, each step downward feeling like you were descending into the bowels of hell itself.
at the bottom of the stairs, you spotted a faint light coming from a room at the end of the hall. spencer gestured for you to stay put, his eyes never leaving the source of the light. with cat-like grace, he approached the door, listening intently. you could see his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, his focus absolute.
the seconds stretched out like hours as he reached for the doorknob. then, with a swift turn and a kick, the door flew open. a scream pierced the air, and you rushed in, your heart hammering in your chest.
the room was a twisted reflection of a doctor's office, with a makeshift operating table in the center. the latest victim, a young woman with matted hair and bruised eyes, was strapped down, her clothes torn and bloodied. she saw you and her cries grew louder, filled with hope and terror.
you sprinted to her side, tucking your gun into the waistband of your pants, your training kicking in as you quickly assessed her injuries. "you're safe now," you murmured, trying to soothe her as you worked to free her from the restraints. she flinched at your touch, but her eyes remained locked on yours, searching for the truth in your words.
spencer's voice was firm and steady. "we need to find james," he called over his shoulder. "he could still be in the house."
you nodded, taking a moment to reassure the victim. "help is on the way," you promised, your voice gentle as you worked to free her trembling form. "we're going to get you out of here."
spencer's voice grew more urgent as he called out to the rest of the team. "clear the upper floors and then head down here!" he ordered. "our unsub might still be in the house!"
you stayed with the victim, whispering comforting words as you worked to untie the complex knots that held her down. Her cries grew softer, and she nodded weakly as you assured her that help was on the way.
spencer's footsteps echoed up the stairs, his voice sharp with urgency as he called out to the rest of the team. "clear the upper floors, now! we need to find james before he escapes!" the thunder of boots on the floorboards above sent a shiver through the house, a stark reminder of the danger that still lurked.
you stayed with the victim, her eyes locked on yours as she clung to the promise of safety. you could feel the warmth of her tears on your hand as you continued to work at the knots. "it's okay," you murmured, your voice soothing despite the racing thoughts in your head. "you're going to be okay."
spencer's voice grew distant as he called the others down to join the search. "garcia, run a background check on james conrad. i need to know everything about him, now!" the urgency in his tone was palpable.
you managed to free the victim's last restraint, and she collapsed into your arms, sobbing with relief. "thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "thank you so much."
you held her tightly, feeling the tremors of fear and pain that wracked her body. "just stay with me," you murmured, stroking her hair. "help is coming."
spencer's voice grew more distant as he and the others moved through the house, their footsteps thundering above you. you heard the occasional crash, the sound of breaking glass, and muffled shouts as they searched room by room. the basement remained a cocoon of relative calm, the only sounds the victim's sobs and your own racing heart.
you managed to get her onto her feet, supporting her trembling legs. "we need to get out of here," you whispered. "can you walk?"
she nodded, clutching onto you for dear life as you guided her towards the stairs. every step was a victory over fear, each one bringing her closer to freedom. as you reached the middle of the staircase, you heard a thud from upstairs, followed by a muffled shout. your heart leaped into your throat.
derek's voice, loud and clear, pierced the silence. "got him! he's down!"
relief washed over you as you helped the victim up the stairs, her legs wobbly but determined. the living room was in chaos, with the rest of the team surrounding a figure on the ground. derek had james conrad pinned to the floor, his toned arms holding his wrists tight as he snapped on the handcuffs. james' eyes were wild, a crazed grin stretched across his face as he laughed maniacally.
moments later, the wail of sirens grew louder, and you heard the thunder of footsteps as paramedics and county police officers flooded the house. their arrival brought a sense of order to the chaos, their calm professionalism a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the past few hours.
you handed the victim over to the medics with a silent prayer, watching as they worked to stabilize her. spencer took you aside, his eyes filled with concern. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the cacophony around you.
you nodded, still feeling the tremors of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "yeah," you murmured, your voice shaky. "just… processing."
spencer's eyes searched yours, understanding written in the lines of his face. "you did good," he said, his voice firm and steady. "really good."
you managed a nod, the reality of what had just happened starting to set in. "thanks."
as the house was secured and the suspect was taken away, the team gathered their things, the adrenaline from the operation dissipating into a tired buzz. the sun was setting outside, casting long shadows across the floor. you followed spencer out to the waiting plane, feeling the weight of the day's events settle heavily on your shoulders.
once aboard, the atmosphere was subdued. the usual banter and camaraderie had been replaced by quiet contemplation. the team had faced the grim reality of their job and come out the other side, victorious but haunted.
spencer sat beside you, his eyes still scanning the case file, his mind clearly racing. his hand brushed against yours, a silent comfort that spoke volumes. you studied his profile, the sharp lines of his nose and jaw, the furrow of his brow as he focused on the information before him.
prentiss looked up from her own paperwork, her expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. "good work today, everyone," she said, her voice sharp but sincere. "especially you, agent. you handled yourself well under pressure, especially considering this was your first case." she said acknowledging you.
you felt a flush of pride at her words, but it was quickly followed by a wave of fatigue. the adrenaline was wearing off, leaving you feeling drained and a little overwhelmed. "thank you," you replied, your voice a little shakier than you would have liked.
spencer looked up from his paperwork, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle concern. "how are you holding up?" he asked, his voice low.
you took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "i'm okay," you said, the tremor in your voice belying your words. "just… it's a lot to take in."
spencer nodded, his gaze understanding. "it always is," he said softly. "but you did great. you saved her life."
you leaned your head against the cool plane window, watching the lights of chicago fade into the distance as the aircraft climbed into the night sky. the case was over, but the memories of the day lingered like a bad taste in your mouth. the faces of the victims, the smell of the basement, the terror in the young woman's eyes - it all played on a loop in your mind.
spencer noticed your withdrawal and reached over, grabbing your hand firmly in his. his thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill that had seeped into your bones. "it's okay to feel this way," he said gently, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the drone of the engines. "it's part of the job."
you looked down at your hand in his, feeling the strength and comfort that flowed through the connection. "i know," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "but it's just…"
spencer squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "it's okay to feel overwhelmed," he said, his voice soothing. "this job… it's not for everyone. but you're here, and you're making a difference."
you took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. the warmth of his hand was grounding, a lifeline in the sea of doubt that threatened to pull you under. "thank you," you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat.
spencer gave your hand a final squeeze before releasing it, turning back to his paperwork. "just remember, we're in this together," he said, his eyes never leaving the file in front of him. "no matter what happens, we've got each other's backs."
edited 8.26.24
taglist: @yokaimoon
#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x you#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid fluff
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He’s a Winchester
Chapter 5
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.
Slow burn (ish), mom!reader
Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, small angst, bullying, reader being a victim
Chapter Word Count: 6639
MDNI 18+
A/N: sorry this took so long! Life has been a lot aha. I kinda feel like I’ve rambled on with this one, so I’m sorry about that… I also feel like this was kinda a filler chapter? Idk, I’m sorry if this one isn’t as exciting… Either way, I hope you like it! As always, it's only proofread by moi, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!
A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.
Photos from Pinterest
New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1
Previous Chapter: Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Sunday mornings were the only time we could get away with being lazy. I would crawl out of bed at around eight o’clock - compared to my normal six o’clock - and shuffle downstairs in my pyjamas in search of coffee whilst Levi was either still sleeping or playing Guitar Hero on the PS2, quietly by himself. On this particular Sunday morning, however, I did indeed venture downstairs at just gone eight, and instead of finding one young boy playing video games by himself, I was greeted with the sight of him battling it out with his uncle whilst his dad sat and watched, critiquing his techniques. I padded in quietly, pulling my long soft cardigan around me further as I tried my best to watch on unseen, enjoying this moment just as much as they were and unwilling to pop their happy bubble. I watched for a few minutes, seeing how Sam didn't go easy on Levi just because he was a kid, and how Dean couldn't seem to take his eyes off his son who was entirely immersed in the game, a soft smile taking up permanent residence on his lips. Dean turned his head slightly and caught sight of me in the archway, that soft smile evolving into a pulse quickening grin. He stood quickly, striding over to me with those plaid pyjama pants distractingly low on his hips.
“G’mornin’ sweetheart, you sleep ok?” He was now a few inches away and smelt like coffee and warm linen - it was the sort of scent that wrapped around me and drew me in with an almost dangerous nature.
“Like the dead,” I grinned, looking up at him, “though I'm not surprised after all those beers and our 1AM bedtime. You're a bad influence Winchester,” I poked his chest and had to fight back a groan when I felt how frustratingly firm his muscles were beneath his grey henley. Instead of vocalising my ‘annoyance’, I bit my lip, which in its own way I suppose was worse. Worse, because now those mossy green eyes were looking at my mouth, their gaze lingering before looking back up to my eyes.
“What can I say except I had a good time? It was nice catching up like that. It was like…”
“Like we’d gone back to a simpler time?”
“Like we'd never been apart.”
Those words held a sudden weight to them that thumped deep in my chest.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, my eyes not leaving him, “I know what you mean”.
We both seemed caught up for a moment, silent and unmoving - just watching each other. He seemed totally steady, save for the deep inhale he took when I held his gaze just a little too long. He cleared his throat, breaking the trance that seemed too quick to have ever even existed in the first place.
“Coffee?” He asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen.
“Coffee sounds great,” I smiled, glancing over to Sam and Levi who'd still failed to notice my arrival.
Dean and I paced leisurely to the kitchen where I was pleasantly surprised to see a pot of coffee already brewed, just waiting to be poured. Dean reached into the overhead cupboard, already learning where things were and selected two mugs. Pouring the hot liquid into both of them before handing me one, we both leant against the counter as I relished the warmth seeping through the ceramic and into my fingertips.
“You know,” I took a sip, humming in satisfaction, “I could get used to this,” my words felt dangerous the moment they slipped from my lips, a part of me kicking myself for vocalising such internal thoughts. Deans eyes widened almost fast enough for me to miss before his gaze returned to normal, his lips parting slightly as his mug paused on the elevation to his mouth. But once that half a second was over, it was like the fleeting surprise never happened. He simply hummed in agreement, his eyes soft and warm.
“Did you sleep ok?” I said quickly, taking the attention away from my earlier slip of words. He grinned with a nod.
“You have no idea how nice it is to sleep somewhere that's not musty and dusty and a possible crime scene from back in the eighties.” I grinned much like he did, my mind suddenly filling with images of brown and orange decor, unwashed bedsheets and spiders who might as well pay rent because they’ve been there so long.
“Well I can assure you that you're safe from all of that here - though no promises on the eighties crime scene, I have no idea who lived in this house back then.”
Deans grin turned more self assured as he raised an eyebrow at me.
“You don't think the equipment I brought would've made a noise if there was something here that went bump in the night?”
“Equipment?” I almost snorted, “you mean the EMF thing that you made on ‘pimp my Walkman’?”
Dean practically clutched his pearls.
“How dare you - that thing is a work of art. Blood, sweat and tears went into that masterpiece,” by the end of his sentence he was grinning again, almost like he knew he was talking out of his ass.
“Uh huh. Sure thing baby.”
Shit.
Deans lips twitch upwards as the intensity of his gaze sparks up something hot before quickly dying out, his posture straightening as he lifts his mug to his mouth again. I kick myself a second time for letting the term of endearment roll off my tongue. I’d never had this issue before - accidentally calling people nicknames or anything of the sort. I’d dated guys who had perfectly reasonable names that I always remembered to call them. Yet Dean… he stood here, in my kitchen after almost a decade and somehow still managed to turn my brain to butter. It was hard to describe, as surely I couldn’t still feel that way for someone who I’d been parted from for so long with not a whisper of their name from anyone's lips but my own. I no longer knew him. Nine years of time and life and experiences will have sculpted Dean and everything that I knew him to be into a totally different person…wouldn’t it? Hell, maybe he’s even got a girlfriend somewhere out there who's waiting for him to return to her, but he’s just been too nice to mention it. That, or I’ve been too selfishly wrapped up in things that used to be us to even think of asking. Perhaps the mushy consistency of my brain was simply another symptom of some so-called ‘muscle memory’, as my current behaviour was always how I’d been around him. Flirty. Playful. Infatuated. Perhaps I simply didn’t know how else to act; how to be normal in his presence because I knew he’s seen every inch of me, both physically and philosophically. He’d seen my ugly days yet he’d still kissed away the turmoil without so much as a second thought. Maybe, just maybe, I needed to reel myself back in - take myself back to before we were star crossed lovers. Before the memories were made and our hearts beat to the same tune. Back when we were just two people who would laugh and joke and stay up late. Perhaps that would make this all easier.
“There’s that name again,” Deans low drawl snapped me from my internal debate, an unreadable expression dawning on his features.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think my mouth and brain are working together anymore,” I sighed, fighting to keep some sliver of amusement in my voice.
“Oh yeah?” a smirk appeared on Deans face, that playful glint returning to his eye as he chewed his bottom lip as though having an internal debate of his own. Who knows what side won, but I’m sure some form of sleep depravity was involved with his next few words: “I remember a time when your mouth didn’t need your brain and it worked just fine on its own.” If his aim here was to make me flustered, he’d sure as hell succeeded as heat bloomed across my cheeks and my mouthful of coffee was spat back into my cup with a splutter.
“Dean!”
He released an almost wicked laugh, clearly pleased with himself for my reaction. If he was going to be making comments like that on a regular basis, it was going to prove extremely difficult for ‘operation: we’re just friends’ to be in full effect.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll stop,” his words were softer yet the edge of amusement was still present.
I scowled at him with as much venom as a fucking wetwipe, my own amused grin straining at my lips.
“You better,” I jabbed a finger into his chest before placing my half empty coffee mug on the counter, turning away from him to rummage through the kitchen cupboards. I turned back around a moment later and thrust four bowls in his hands along with four spoons and two large cereal boxes.
“Put these on the table before you say anything else that might cause me to choke on my coffee.”
I watched a choking innuendo pass right before his eyes yet he bit his tongue and pursed his lips, taking a moment before his eyebrows rose slightly.
“Were you always this bossy?”
“I’m not bossy, I just have a child who needs to be fed. Now, table,” I pointed to the items in his arms before pointing to their designated destination.
“You could at least say ‘please’,” his tone was growing taunting and it drew a sigh from my chest.
“Fine. Can you put those things on the table, please.”
“Hmm… I don’t feel like you meant that, it felt a little… I don't know… hostile?” The grin was now in full effect.
“DEAN.”
“Ok! I’m going!” he turned and did as I asked, finally setting the table for all four of us.
Breakfast passed by with so much ease it was as though we’d done it every day of our lives. Sam and Levi continued to talk about Guitar Hero whilst Dean listened, chipping in the classic rock trivia where he could. The whole time, I just sat, listened and watched, absorbing everything about this moment in time and doing whatever I could to make this a core memory. I breathed in, telling myself to remember the smell of sugar and coffee in the air, along with the new and unfamiliar masculine undertone of cologne and old leather. I looked around, watching how the golden morning light made their hair and skin glow in shades of amber and white, the small dust particles in the air illuminated like fireflies. The sound of their animated chatter was soft, creating a serene ambiance that was as pleasant on the ears as notes from a music box. Everything about this moment was all I’d dreamt of; from the fully occupied breakfast table to the relaxed atmosphere, and the cherry on the cake was knowing that these men were family. Levis family. He had a dad and an uncle who wanted to cherish him and spend time with him, to make him feel so important and loved that it made up for nearly nine years of absence. I know, deep, deep down that part of this was from them feeling guilty - Dean more so than Sam - yet that was only a small part. Their love and affection for him stemmed from something real and it was so easy to see, so fucking clear on their faces, that it made me want to cry. And that feeling was so fucking strong that I had to excuse myself from the table and freshen up in the bathroom, barely able to utter a word to them as I stepped away.
After taking five and splashing some water on my face I emerged from the bathroom and headed back downstairs. Sam and Levi were back in front of the playstation, this time playing Need for Speed, and Dean remained at the table, another coffee between his palms as he leant forwards, staring into the liquid. He must’ve heard me coming as he looked up with a slightly concerned expression.
“You ok?” he asked.
“Yeah,” my voice didn’t come out as level as I’d hoped, so I diverted the conversation. “I thought that’d be you over there playing Need for Speed. How come you’re over here glaring at your coffee?”
“Ahh, we’ve been up for a while and I spent about an hour on Guitar Hero with Levi before you came down. Plus…” the small smile on his lips that appeared when he looked over at his son was now directed towards me, “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Uh oh, I hate it when sentences start like that.”
“No, it’s nothing bad. I just…uhhh… well, last night when we were talking, you said something that I can’t stop thinking about,” despite his calm expression, his knuckles were starting to turn white around his cup.
“I said a lot of things last night, Dean, you’re going to ha-”
“Let me take you out.”
“What?”
“Let me take you out,” he repeated, but this time softer and slower, “you said last night that you never get to go out for drinks anymore and that you’ve had some pretty shit dates,” we both grimaced slightly at the thought of that. “ Well… I’m here. Let me take you out. Levi is at a sleepover tonight so you have nothing to worry about where he’s concerned,” he took a deep breath and reached across the table to place his hand, warm and large, over mine. “Let me do something nice for you, like you deserve.” There was a pause as silence settled between us for a moment. He wanted to take me out. Like, a date, or just as old friends, or as co-parents…? I had no idea what his angle was on this. Did he want to have sex? Was that it? Was he just trying to get his dick wet? Old Dean would occasionally pull those tricks with me, though they were usually few and far between, but would the new Dean do that? Was it even a low bar thing to do? Maybe it’s a pity date, and he’s only taking me out because I’ve been so incapable of being able to replace him with someone who is better - who probably doesn’t even exist - that he’s now just feeling sorry for me. Why, oh why the ever living fuck am I even over analysing this? Dean wanted to take me for drinks so why should I care what his motive is. This is a fucking opportunity for me to relax and let loose a little. To not be mom for a few hours. To be me. And why should I care if he wants to fuck me? I should be flattered, right? That he possibly still finds me attractive? And I can’t deny that it’s been a while since I’ve had half decent sex - or any sex at all for this matter.
“Yes,” I blurted, perhaps a little aggressively.
“Yes?” he smiles again, that easy, contagious smile, “you’ll let me take you on a date?”
“So it is a date?” I couldn’t help but mirror his grin, adding my own amused tone.
“Wasn’t that obvious?”
“Well, no, you said you’d ‘take me out’. That could mean anything. You could’ve meant with a fucking gun.”
Dean erupted into laughter, shaking his head. That laugh. I remember likening it to a favourite song that was so easy to put on repeat. It was addictive.
“Ok, so I’m not taking you out with a gun. I’m taking you out on a date. Have I dumbed it down enough for ya’ know?”
“If you were any clearer you’d be transparent,” I said, my tone bordering on mocking.
“Great, well, me and Sammy have a few loose ends to tie up from this case we’re on, so we need to head out soon. We’ll be back by the evening though, soooo…. Be ready for six?”
I nodded eagerly, watching as he stood from the table. The sight of him in the henley - plaid bottoms combo makes me want to have a cozy day indoors, watching nothing but scary movies and scarfing down popcorn and cookie dough. The sigh I heave from my lungs was totally involuntary.
“Yeah,” I smile, “six is perfect.”
Kat and Toby arrived at the house around noon. Whilst the boys race upstairs to get on with God-knows-what, Kat strides in with a knowing smirk when she clocks the duffle bags that are clearly not mine beside the couch, along with the lingering aroma that's distinctly masculine intertwining with the pumpkin spice from my scented candles. As I studied her face for all but a few seconds, I braced myself for the flurry of questions that I knew were buzzing around her mind.
“Sooooo…” her tone was already amused as she flopped down onto the couch. “Anything you need to tell me?”
“What? Who do you think I am?” I scoff at her words, yet my pulse quickens at the thought of telling her about my plans for tonight.
“I think you're a woman still in love with her childhood sweetheart and that he's already sweeping you off your feet.”
“I am not still in love with him. I can't possibly be in love with someone I've not seen for almost a decade.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Bitch, don't ‘mmm hmm’ me. I'm not in love with Dean.”
“Would you fuck him?”
“God yes.”
“So you're keeping him around for the possibility of good dick?”
I threw myself down beside her on the couch, pulling a throw cushion into my lap.
“No, that is so not true. I can't believe you'd think me so shallow,” I held my hand to my chest in mock devastation. She hummed again.
“Didn't you do that to what's-his-face?”
“Who?”
“The guy you dated about a year ago, drove around in that Mustang?”
“Oh shit yeah! I think his name was Chad? Or maybe Brad…? Ok yeah, I did kinda keep him around for his dick… and his car. That car was awesome.”
“You shallow, shallow bitch.”
I threw the cushion which hit her square in the face, likely leaving a print of her lipstick behind on the soft fabric.
“But that was just some dude that was only with me so he could fucking tick ‘banged a milf’ off his bucket list. This is Dean I'm talking about. He's… well… he's Dean. And he's not here for me. He's here for Levi. Don't blame a man for wanting to stick around when he's just found out he's got a kid,” I gave her a look that said ‘I fucking love you but please can we drop this now’, and she did, one final hum moving past her lips. We stared at each other for a moment, her expression one of a studious nature and mine one of feigned innocence. This woman could read me like a book, and I both simultaneously loved and hated it. I loved it, because when something went wrong, and quite often in my life things did, she just knew. She knew to be at mine that same evening with a bottle of red and a bucket of popcorn, pyjamas on and the boys asleep upstairs. This woman had slept in my bed more times than any man as we continued to have sleepovers like teenagers well into our twenties. Alcoholic sleepovers. Yet I hated how she read me like a book, because like right now, if I was in denial about anything or for some absurd reason trying to keep a secret, she would just know. She was like a fucking mind reader. I chuckled inwardly at the thought of that being true. Maybe Dean should scan her with his Walkman and freak her out. Maybe then she'd get off my case about me still being in love with him. I'm not in love with him.
“You still aren't telling me something,” her voice was even, the amusement fading slightly as she stared at me, waiting for me to stop beating around the bush. Under the heat of her stare I caved, sighing and slumping even further into the soft cushions behind me.
“He's taking me out…on a date.”
“I FUCKING knew it!”
“What?! How would you know that?!” I almost jumped as she flew forward in her seat, the gleam back in her eyes as she grinned like the Cheshire Cat.
“I didn't know that exactly, but bitch I knew you were hiding something juicy!”
“It's not juicy! It's casual - just drinks. I’m gonna wear jeans.”
“Oh yeah, because flaunting the curvature of ones ass makes it casual…”
“Aren’t you here to collect my kid or something?” I launch into my last resort to end this hellish interrogation - which involved kicking her out.
“Babes you can kick me out of your house but you can’t ignore this,” she stood slowly, her ‘all-knowing’ expression un-faltering.
“Kat, it’s only day two of him being here! You are getting way ahead of yourself,” I stood with her, shaking my head.
“Two days plus the whole freakin’ year you were dating. That man is not a stranger to you. Hell, you’ve probably had that coc-”
“THANK YOU, Kat! I love you, you are the yin to my fucking yang but please for the love of CHRIST - shut up!”
Her expression finally cracked and she practically cackled at my discomfort, making her way to the stairs to get the boys.
“Bitch, if I don’t get details about tonight then -”
“Ok I’ll tell you! But seriously, don’t read into it too much, it’s just drinks.”
She strutted to the bottom of the stairs before ascending, calling over her shoulder; “Sure, whatever you say honey!”
It took longer than I'd have hoped, but Kat eventually left with the boys for the remainder of the day. As soon as they'd left the building, it was like I could breathe again - like the house could breathe again. It was a rare occasion for me to have the place to myself for five minutes, let alone a whole twenty four hours. It was like I could finally hear my own thoughts again after the busy breakfast and Kat's dire interrogation. The silence was bliss. It was pure bliss as I made myself a coffee and settled comfortably on the couch, taking a moment to myself. It was blissful right up until my own thoughts started banging at the door in the back of my mind. Thoughts about Dean, and his motives and my motives. Suddenly my relaxing afternoon to myself was quickly becoming a caged-in trap for my internal thoughts to run wild, the drums of possibilities sounding in the far reaches of my brain, beating faster and faster the closer they drew. Almost as quickly as I'd sat down, I jumped up and headed to the store cupboard under the stairs. One thing that could distract me was cleaning, so that's exactly what I was going to do.
I blitzed the house from top to bottom, hoovering, mopping, cleaning mirrors and windows, dusting and evening folding the pile of laundry that was starting to become part of the furniture. Much to my dismay, that only took up two hours of my time, so I was left with the only other task that I hate more than folding hundreds of small human sized pieces of fabric. Grocery shopping.
After a manic stock take of the fridge, cupboards and pantry, I made a list, grabbed my bag, threw on my jacket and headed out.
I'd been shopping around the small town convenience store for around twenty minutes, browsing the aisles and throwing everything - plus some extras - from my list into the aggravatingly wonky trolley. I hated grocery shopping with a passion - the constant beeping from the checkouts, the passive aggressive road rage between trolley users, and the dozens of obscenely slow browsers frustrated me beyond belief. I was normally able to push it to a big haul every two weeks, but with the prospect of Sam and Dean staying a while, it was a safe bet to fill the house to the brim with snacks and meals alike. With the lifestyle that those two lived, I can't imagine that they're overly fussy eaters, and I have a hunch that Dean still loves turkey dinosaurs.
The cereal aisle wasn't supposed to be an eventful place - deciding between Cookie Crisp and Cinnamon Squares should be the highlight of this venture. However as my luck would have it, it became eventful.
“Oh hi! (Y/n)!”
I looked up from my crumpled list and was greeted with three faces that I recognised but not to the point of acquaintanceship.
“Uhh, hi? Can I help you?”
“I just wanted to say that it's so great to finally see that Levi's father is around. It's just so important, isn't it? For a boy to have that male role model,” the first woman spoke; her peroxide blonde hair looked so overbleached it may as well have been straw on her head, and it almost distracted me from her painfully patronising voice.
“Excuse me? Do I know you?” My voice started to take on a defensive edge as my palms immediately grew sweaty, this situation already making me uncomfortable.
She laughed, looking over at her friend's like I'd asked some stupid fucking question.
“Our son's go to the same school - you should really know this.”
“Well, if our sons aren't friends, then why would I need to?”
She took a deep breath.
“I just think it's funny how someone like you managed to get someone like… what's his name… Dean? Isn't he a little out of your league?”
My pulse thrummed as my frustration grew with the sudden, unsolicited and blatant attack. How the fuck did they know Deans name? Someone must've overheard us at Jolenes'... or maybe at the track? And what the fuck did she mean by ‘out of my league’? If she was insinuating what I thought she was, then she's going to need to head over to the fucking freezer aisle real freaking soon.
“Excuse me?”
She smirked, knowing she was sinking her plastic fucking talons into my skin already.
“Oh I think you heard me. Does Dean know? That you trapped him? When you got pregnant on purpose at nineteen?”
My blood began to boil as I white knuckled the handle of the trolley to stop myself from punching her square between the eyes.
“Fuck you; I didn't ‘trap him’. Is that really what you cliquey bitches think?” I was equal parts furious and heartbroken. Furious, because how fucking dare they assume that just because Dean is a God tier DILf that I fooled him into getting me pregnant all those years ago. And heartbroken because, well, is that really what the people in this town thought of me? If these women thought that, then who's to say half the town don't think the same? Or maybe more - maybe it's the whole freaking town with Kat being the only exception, and I've been living so cocooned in my own bubble that it never even occurred to me. But Dean has barely even been here a day, so I can’t exactly blame myself for being so wrapped up in my own life with everything going on. How can people form such strong opinions so quickly when they don’t even know the whole story? My story with Dean. Not theirs. They’ve somehow managed to put two and two together to come up with negative fucking ten, and I’ll be damned if I let them drag our names through the mud.
“Oh honey, we know that you tricked him. A man like that, with that face and physique would never have chosen you willingly, right? I mean, you really don’t look his type.”
“Oh, and you do? Because you know Dean so well?”
“That’s enough!” We were caught off guard by the oldest of the three, a woman perhaps in her fifties, snapping in a clipped tone. “Michelle, that’s quite enough, you’re taking this too far now. And you,” she turned to me with a stern gaze, “that man looks like trouble. We don’t like those sorts around here; you tell him to behave himself.” My anger and frustration was quickly melting into straight up irritation.
“Look, lady-”
“Karen.”
“Sure, ok… look, Deans a grown ass man, he can do whatever the fuck he likes - he’s here on a job. I’m not telling him to do shit.”
“Language! Such a foul mouth-”
“Is he single?” our heads quickly snapped to the third woman of the group - younger than the other two but still a little older than myself. She was a near double of the blonde from the hair to the clothes to the claws, yet she seemed to lack the spite.
“What?” yet another question that caught me off guard. What the fuck is wrong with these women?
“Dean, is he single? I mean, I’ve not seen him, but from how you describe him, he seems hot,” she twirled a lock of hair around her finger like a school girl despite likely being in her thirties.
“Hannah you’re married,” Karen chimed in with obvious disgust.
That was it, the last fucking straw. I’d had enough of the ambush from three women that I barely even knew. I adjusted my grip on the trolley and quickly planned my escape route, spotting an opening in the crowd to the side. I gritted my teeth and steeled my gaze, the bitter taste of disgust, fury, and disappointment coating my tongue as I all but spat my words.
“This has been a riveting conversation, truely, but I’m leaving. Now,” and with that I hastily left them behind, finishing my shopping with the dark cloud of judgement looming over me.
The urge to cry hot, angry tears in the car on the ride home was a battle I didn't want to fight. The intensity of the emotions brewing in the pit of my stomach and bubbling into my chest was so strong, so consuming that I didn't even realise I was pulling into my own driveway, having completed the short journey on what I like to call ‘blackout autopilot’. One tear was shed over the shitshow, and in my opinion, that was one tear too many. I was annoyed at myself with having let it get to me so much, knowing I'd grown thicker skin than this. It wasn't the first time I'd been confronted, like a fucking black sheep in a blindingly white flock, yet for some reason, this got to me. At this point, I was drained from even thinking about it, so I grabbed the groceries, making several trips to get them all in the house, put away the fridge and freezer items and left the rest on the counter to deal with later. Right now, I needed a large glass of wine and something to distract myself with. So I decided on the only thing I had going for me at this point in time.
Time to pick an outfit for tonight.
My bedroom was a modest size and the king-size bed practically consumed the room. I had a large, sliding mirrored-door wardrobe that was built into the structure of the room which I flung open and started to rummage through as soon as I made it upstairs.
I'd told myself - and Kat - that it was casual. Dean had implied it, so this shouldn't be too hard to find something nice to wear.
Wrong.
I must've spent the best part of an hour trying on dozens of different tops with my only pair of ‘nice’ jeans - those ones that hugged my ass and thighs just right. I tried long sleeves, short sleeves, chiffon, cotton, satin, opaque, obscenely translucent, bright, monochrome and in all honesty, I felt inadequate in every single one. I'd never really been one to feel overly self conscious of how I looked, but for some absurd reason, this date with Dean was making me flustered. It had me worried that he wouldn’t like how I looked, especially since I’d had Levi and my body had changed in a way that he didn’t know just yet.
Just yet.
I cursed myself slightly, shaking that idea from my head. Yes, I’ve had plenty of time to try and get myself back to normal, but some things just weren't the same anymore, and probably never would be. I hated the fact that I was even stressed about this. The safest option was to just go for something comfortable, so I donned a stretchy, low-cut and long sleeved black top and slid on a pair of black closed-toe heels before sitting down at my dresser.
I’d just opened my makeup bag when I heard the door downstairs open and close, quickly followed by the oddly comforting sounds of Sam and Deans voices floating through the house and up the stairs. I turned to myself in the mirror, sighing at the tired looking woman staring back at me. Get your shit together, (Y/n), Dean is taking you on a date. I grasped my over-sharpened eyeliner pencil that was likely no longer than an inch in length and got to work. I suddenly flinched and nearly poked myself in the eye when Dean appeared in my bedroom doorway.
“Jesus, Dean! You scared the crap out of me - I didn’t even hear you come up the stairs.”
He grinned slightly as he leant against the wooden frame, large arms crossing over his chest.
“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to…” his voice trailed off and I could feel his eyes on me, as though he was searching for something. A few moments went by in silence, and right as I was about to turn to him, he spoke.
“Hey, are you ok?” His voice was dangerously soft, and concerned in a way that could easily have me weeping in his arms. Because of the shitty afternoon I’d had, I feel like it wouldn’t take much kindness from him to have me crumble - no matter how much I’d hate myself for it afterwards. Instead, I pushed everything down as best as I could and turned to him with a weak smile.
“Yeah, I’m ok. I’ve had a bit of a weird, shitty afternoon but I won’t ruin your evening with it.” At my words he pulled a face, his own words quickly following.
“It’s your evening. And if there’s something eating at you, you know you can talk to me. Just like you used to,” his smile was back, warm and comforting and like a balm over a burn. I looked back at myself in the mirror for a moment, debating if it was even worth talking about. If it was anyone but Dean, I wouldn’t hesitate to keep this to myself. But it was Dean, and I hated to say it, but he was always good at dealing with me when I was like this in the past. I turned to him and let his calming presence seep into my bones, desperately trying to take it on myself.
“Ok,” I said quietly, “I’ll tell you at the bar. But I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, and I don’t want to talk about it all evening,” He nodded.
“Whatever you need sweetheart,” he stood up straight and said something about getting ready himself before he left the room, leaving me to finish up before finally heading downstairs.
It was roughly another fifteen minutes before I made my way down; Dean already waiting for me in the archway to the kitchen. He looked up as he heard me coming, eyes brightening when he grinned at me.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” his voice was smooth and deep, a flirtatious undertone rumbling in his chest.
“Not so bad yourself Winchester,” I walked up to stand in front of him, almost toe-to-toe. I looked him over, taking in the black shirt he wore, untucked and paired his jeans. The boots and brown leather jacket remained the same, yet I could see the damp patches on both from where he’d scrubbed either mud or blood from the fabric - perhaps both. It wouldn’t be the first time. I took a deep breath, my pulse quickening as his scent filled my senses.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked, removing a hand from his pocket and let it hang awkwardly at his side. I shook my head.
“Not yet, I sometimes forget to eat when Levi isn’t around.” Dean shot me a look that could have been both concerned or protective.
“Ok, well I’m taking you for dinner too then.”
“What? No Dean, you really don’t have t-”
“Don’t argue with me sweetheart, I'm fucking feeding you,” his tone was final, leaving no room for negotiation so I sighed in defeat.
“Fine, but we’re not going anywhere expensive.”
His smirk widened across his face as he continued to look down at me, finally placing that awkwardly hanging hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the door. He shouted a ‘goodbye’ to Sam over his shoulder and, without really waiting for a reply, he ushered me out of the house and towards the car, locking up behind us. I walked up to the black vehicle, the excitement starting to bubble at the thought of going for a ride in her again after all this time. As Dean walked up to me, he opened the passenger side door, letting me hop in first. I took my seat, quickly dumping my bag and jacket in the footwell so I could softly run my fingertips over the perfectly maintained leather seats, noticing how not a thing had changed - not even the box of cassettes on the back seat. As Dean slid into the drivers seat, his expression something akin to pride, he couldn’t help but comment on my reaction to being back in the impala.
“I bet you missed Baby more than you missed me,” he joked, turning the key and letting the engine roar into life. I bit my lip, leaning back in my seat.
“I missed you both equally,” the humorous tone came easily, my earlier worries already started to feel insignificant as they slipped away with every tick of the engine.
“Equally?” he echoed, feigning hurt, “you don’t even prefer me just a little bit more?”
I pretended to ponder intently, holding a finger to my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. An obnoxious string of ‘hmmms’ slipped through my lips before I saw him roll his eyes, still grinning.
“Yeah, I guess I do. Especially since you're taking me on a date,” my own words made my heart flutter and luckily he'd moved his gaze from me to the road as he pulled out of my drive. My face felt warm and I cursed at myself for being so easily affected by him already, entranced by the way those long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel and the muscles in his jaw flexed under the glow of the passing street lamps. I couldn't deny that he was still painfully attractive, even after all this time. If I was being honest with myself, he was making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on much else right now. If drinks were soon to be involved, there was a very high chance of me making a total ass of myself in front of him.
Tonight was likely going to be one to remember.
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Dissecting the glow up pyramid
This post features an approach to apply Pyramid 1 (and Pyramid 2 combined to use their maximal potential to guide you for glowing up)
Credits for Pyramid 1 @prettieinpink
and Pyramid 2
idk who created this Pyramid
combined to use their maximal potential to guide you for glowing up.
Categorising the two Pyramids:
Well begin with the second Pyramid
Pyramid 2:
As you can see this Pyramid has 5 levels
Basic Health: Diet, Fitness, Sleep, Hygiene, Environment
Basic Grooming: Skincare Make up Fashion Hairstyling Shaving/Waxing Nails Accessorizing & Teeth Whitening
Professional Grooming: Manis/Pedis, Airbrushing; Waxing, Laser Hair Removal, Lash extension/lifts, Microblading, Brow Threading, Cosmetic Tattooing, Facials, Tanning, Hairstyling/Extensions/Coloring
Non Invasive Treatment: Cosmetic Dentistry, Threading, Botox Injections Filler, Laser/Peels, Cool sculpting/ Body Contour
Plastic Surgery
This Pyramid features basic and advanced methods of archiving a glow up without going into details especially in the two basic tiers
Pyramid 1:
This Pyramid also has 5 Levels but these Levels focus more on the basics and not the advance stages.
The Levels:
Health: sleep, exercise, oral health, healthy eating
Style: hair care, skincare, lashes&eyebrows, body-care, lips
Fashion: outfits, hair-styling, make up
Personalities: body language, posture, eloquence
Mind: mindset, mental health
Overall the two Pyramids are focusing on two aspects/levels of glowing up without going in great details on the other aspect/level
Here is a Pyramid with both aspects combined
How to apply the Pyramid in your personal glow up journey
The ground principal is working yourself up. Also the Levels work together to archive your glow up, If you did everything in Level 4 well but did not do everything in Level 2 good the glow up isn't as strong as when you worked your way up.
The first Level - Basic Health
This is the foundation of your glow up. You should not slack off in this tier, because they don't give you fast results like a facial for example because if you e.g want to try cool sculpting and you don't have a good diet and a fitness plan and you may not even reached your weight goal if you are overweight so the benefits are 0 and you've thrown your money out of the window.
The first step is it to access every point on a scale from 1 to 10. Be real in the rating. Maybe you are a 10 in oral heath but just a 4 in your mindset and so on. From there I would create a priority list with the things you have to focus the most. If you have many holes in this are I would try to just focus on these ones specifically but not let the other points out of your mind and sight.
Personally I would start with cleaning and organising your environment. A clean environment uplifts your spirit and also motivates you to accomplished your tasks.
If you think that you master the first level you can go to the second level
I advise you to really level up if you get a score of 7/10 but in the first Level you can already incorporate things from Level two but I would use discernment and be realistic.
The second Level - Basic grooming
Like in the first Level I would access every point on a scale from 1 to 10 and create a priority list and use the strategy like in the first level
you have to experiment with your makeup and make a data collection about things that work for you in this tier. These could be skin type, hair type and make up techniques that work for you and everything related to the points in the second level.
Example:
Hair type - oily ( On my Hair so und so Practices work do not work)
Hair porosity - normal … explanation
skin type - (Things that work on my skin)
Shaving doesn't work on my skin
etc.
If you can archive a score of a minimum of 7/10 you can Level up.
Final Thoughts on the Basic Levels
The first two levels are the foundation of attractiveness
You've already levelled a lot if you are in 8/10 in the first two levels as a whole.
Not maintaining the first two levels can negatively impact your attractiveness
The third Tier Professional grooming
These actions are like the icing on a cake to elevate your appearance to the next level.
In this tier you should pick 2-3 things which you think can 100% bring to the next Level. For example manis and Lash-extension.
The actions in this Tier can help to lessen the burden in the lower levels.
For Example if you do a Laser Hair Removal you don't have to spend as much time with Shaving/Waxing anymore.
I would also data collect treatments that work facials that work for you.
Disclaimer
The thing you can do in this Level and higher have a lot to do with your income and time but you have to remember that the first two Level alone can glow up from a dishevelled 4 to a confident 7 and these are just the icing on the cake
The fourth Level Non Invasive Treatment (NRI)
The vibe of this Tier is: 'you look Incredible but I do not know what to do'
It's about subtle changes and no drastic ones
Do not use the methods in the fourth Tier if you have no good foundation in the first three tiers.
Example: You are overweight and you are dieting and trying to loose weight and decided to make your face slimmer with Botox and fillers. When you loose the weight you face automatically gets slimmer and the filler can potentially change your face in a way that you don't like so loose the Weight first and then decide if filler is needed
The fifth Level Plastic sugary
It's self explanatory. But use your discernment. And look at the tips in the Pyramid
#glow up#glow up era#that girl#becoming that girl#dream girl#dream girl guide#wonyoungism#girlblogging#self improvement#pink pilates princess#girl things#it girl#dream girl vibes#this is a girlblog#girl blogger#self growth#working yourself up#collecting and dissecting a method#mindset#girl tips#becoming her
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In the pic you posted K reminds me of Demi Moore when she had that botched plastic surgery, love Demi though, great actress.
They look exactly the same.
Kaia is too thin and that makes her cheeks look much more sunken and the lip filler technique she had done doesn't help her much (there are different techniques and ways that lips can be filled) and she accentuates it more with her seriousness.
People who see the second season of Palm Royale will be surprised, because this was Kaia not pregnant and this is Kaia pregnant. Her health problem is becoming too noticeable.
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Chase Trinaeste POV Shepherds of Haven fic? Yeah………….. Chase x MC fic? Yeah.......
And another friend’s OC is also mentioned in here? …..Yeah…………… dw about it..........
Listen though. L-listen:
---
You gotta learn to braid.
Thinking about it, your head is immediately gifted with images of him irritatedly brushing it out in the morning and chewing you out for bad technique. Better yet, he wears it to breakfast, thinks it’s good, and then chews you out only after Trouble makes some no-brained comment and he looks in a mirror for the first time. After all, you’ve got nimble fingers, makes sense to assume you were trustable.
Rock’s head is in your lap.
And his hair is going everywhere, and he’s always clearly taken his time with it (at your best guess he uses five different products at least), so that’s why you’re thinking about it. Don’t people with long hair sleep with braids, sometimes? Lavinet would probably teach you, and do you the favor of not announcing that you’re about to use your skills for evil.
He’s been like this since about five in the morning. You’re a light sleeper. As needs be, you rise either with the sunset or with the sun. Or elsewise, if you’ve got to— you have what some might call an uncanny sense for a well-timed catnap.
So you’re up again, working out the couple little kinks in your back from dozing upright like that. It’s another of the perks of the job: learn to sleep anywhere. You have a lot of little resume filler skills like that, just a tragic lack of resume to put it on. Idly, you wonder over the nonsensical notion of putting one together for the Order once your writing gets good enough to, and you’re kind of attached to the idea now. Blade wouldn’t read it, especially considering you’re already in, but there’s some small giddy joy you get out of the idea of putting it in his possession anyway. Maybe Trouble would read it. Maybe Shery would think it’s juicy enough that she can’t keep her hands off it, and then roll in the guilt about it for a few weeks after. ...No, you can’t do that to her. Funny as that is, she could read with permission. You might be cruel, but she’s a horrible choice of target.
Anyway— So you’ve been watching him be like this since about five in the morning, and thus have evidence of him being like this since about five in the morning. You remember falling asleep late last night, though. Waiting for him to drift first. It was probably one, two AM.
When six-thirty rolls around, you’ll have to wake him, you have a bright and early morning dose of espionage on the schedule today (it’s why the two of you are all the way out here, plus Lavinet and Ottilie graciously hosted in another wing) and you can’t have a grouchy Hero of Haven who hasn’t had a good hour or more awake to put his silver tongue back on.
Something something joke about that tongue’s many talents.
Head in lap is a surprise at all. It’s one of those things— Rock has done this thing to you where all your defenses are the ones that keep coming down first.
It feels a little like getting grifted. When you’ve caught onto a grift, though, and you’re playing along to see what or whom or where they take you to, you don’t feel like you’re in danger, because you’re good. You’re in as much danger as you want to be, or more like: when there are unpredictable variables, you know more or less where they’re going. Rock makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something you don’t fucking play with, and it doesn’t help that he likes to open his mouth sometimes just to remind you you’re rolling off a cliff.
Anyway. Then you get this, and you wanna be a charming shit about it, as usual (and you intend to), you just also wonder how much he’s falling off a cliff.
He gets bad nightmares. You know that because of the trip to the Reach. You do also know it because of the tightness in Blade’s lip when you mentioned it offhand later— there’s history there; they’ve been worse than that. You also know it because you picked the brains of a couple recruits who were standing around griping after Trouble sent them for something like twenty laps around the compound (not a real intuitive head for numbers on that man): apparently, it was Captain Nomura they’d been gossiping about, and Trouble was a hardass about it.
It’s the one thing that makes you feel borderline… even. If not even, then at least okay with it.
That’s a lie, you’d probably feel okay with it anyway, you got down to being okay with whatever he’s doing to you the minute you realized you were this invested. It’s just something you use to put things in perspective. There are things you didn’t exactly expect to peel open for him, about you. But there are also things he’s not asking to broadcast publicly to every hard-luck-fleer who wanders onto the Shepherds compound to recruit. Rumors about the head of the Thieves Guild abound, but the unflattering ones are usually less true, and the untrue ones abound so plentifully that no one knows heads or tails of that, anyway.
Feels fair he should have secrets from someone. You’re still gonna fucking dig your way into them before they bury him alive, it’s just. Yeah, you haven’t had your brain pulled open onto a projection screen.
So he has nightmares. You’re not actually sure how often. Technically, you don’t have proof they haven’t gotten better since you last heard. But since you’re not bound to the same evidence requirements as a court of law, and since it’s become a roulette game of how grouchy Rock’s gonna be minute-to-minute, he was dodgy about the prospect of rooming with you or anyone on this mission at all, and he’s recently had a god or demon or trick of the light try to tell him (plus all of the rest of you) that he’s less Mage and more something else’s torn out rib, you can look at two plus two plus two and say probably.
You’ve learned how not to dream. It’s basically the same as learning how to wake up when you want to. When you did dream, you dreamt of mutiny, imaginary holes you left and getting torn down through them. You were always yourself in your dreams—some people are characters, tropes, or other people they know, apparently; you wouldn’t know. Now you keep that in the waking world, and you keep ten paces ahead of it.
That’s the thing you’re deadly sure about in him. That he’s keeping ten paces ahead of something. You—your whole tether to his side—account for anything from like one to like eight of them, as far as you can tell. That’s all you know.
…Well that’s the quick way to tell it. He’s keeping ten paces ahead of something inside the Shepherds. Could be Blade, but you’re not sure why. Could be the Autarchy, but that’s too simple for you. Doesn’t feel like it. Could be Ottilie’s God-given plans for a pretty obvious heathen, but your nose also says it’s not that easy.
He looks dead asleep right now. Comfy, you’d kind of go so far as to hope. And anyway you look at his face, still waters, and you’re a little afraid to even brush his hair out of it.
You don’t even know if he meant to lay his head down on you at all, if that’s a cliff he made his shaky peace with (or if it’s a cliff at all, if means anything to him, Hael if you know) or if he was just miserable.
You don’t know if it’s you, like the stillness might be the effect of having another body in the room that he’s willing to lay his head against— …or if maybe he just doesn’t get them every night. Or if there is one under there. But you hope he’s not dreaming.
You try to bask in it, for now. Try to pose like a king with a sweet little kitten in his lap, like a guy painted on the front of a romance novel with the sweet, innocent angel he’s seduced to lay over him, nightgown slipping down her shoulder. You spend an hour with only walls to watch, dutifully still so he can finish sleeping, and it’s only a small handful of times that you have to stop and breathe through a creep of bile up your throat.
Six-thirty hits.
“Good morning, Sunshine.”
“Mmf. What.” Rock spits a strand of hair out of his face. Yeah, you probably could have done him a favor on that instead of leaving it there for him to wake up to. But it’s funny, so, you know. Win-win.
“The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, Ottilie’s slaughtering her morning chicken—” (she is not).
Rock seems to parse the reality of where he is, and peels himself up from you, sitting facing away from you— and then he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, and everything about it is horribly, disressingly raw.
He looks at you a little too long. The thing about Rock is his rules are a lot like yours, and you are not supposed to say anything about it, but he’s looking at you, like he’s asking you to, and it lasts a long time.
Then he goes to brush his teeth.
#shepherds of haven#chase trinaeste#chase trinaeste x mc#shepherds of haven fanfic#yeah sorry this one doesnt. resolve. thats it thats the oneshot!#i have more drafted from later on this little made-up mission im sending them on#but it's more like a second chapter#one day I'm gonna write the fic about how deeply fucking tragic everything going on w Blade and Rock is bc it's not clear here but#listen. listen. Blade is one of his most important people.#I have constructed a guy who loves Blade so much. and who then proceeded to convince himself that one day Blade will kill him#I mean not necessarily Blade. just the Shepherds. but it would hurt worst if it's Blade. so now it'll definitely be Blade. see. logic#Blade is going to feel. so extremely ill when he discovers this has been going on#so there's the... FLAVOR of the Blade mention in here
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I know you don't like to comment on Kaia's body, but I've seen a lot of people commenting on her supposed cosmetic touch-ups.
I'm not a professional, but I've also fallen into fillers a few years ago and I can detect when someone uses hyaluronic acid. From my experience, Kaia had fillers in her lips and very natural veneers, lengthening her front teeth (compare her front teeth with the Daily Mail photo). Believe it or not, this can change a lot on the face. In my opinion, she doesn't have any other fillers in her face, in fact she is so thin that she has lost a lot of elasticity and has very premature wrinkles for her age (the same as Presley has). Kaia already had an angular face with marked cheekbones, so that is much more enhanced when she loses weight, apart from that she started to wear a lot more makeup and her makeup technique is contouring with bronzer, so her face looks more defined.
She keeps up with all these things she’s going to end up looking much older than what she is . She’s 23 years old and looks older than me
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Tattoo Removal Treatment in Hyderabad
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Master the Art of Lip Augmentation: Why a Lip Filler Course Is Essential for Aesthetic Professionals
Lip fillers have become a defining trend in modern beauty, offering clients the chance to enhance their natural features with subtle, personalized touches. As demand for these treatments continues to rise, so does the need for skilled practitioners who can deliver safe and stunning results. A Lip Filler Course provides the perfect pathway to mastering the art and science of lip enhancements.
Whether you’re a medical professional looking to expand your practice or an aspiring aesthetic injector, investing in specialized lip filler training can set you apart in the competitive world of medical aesthetics.
Why Are Lip Fillers So Popular?
The appeal of lip fillers lies in their ability to deliver customized results tailored to each individual. Clients can achieve fuller lips, improved symmetry, and defined contours without undergoing invasive surgery.
Social media, celebrity culture, and the desire for a youthful, plump pout have all contributed to the growing popularity of lip fillers. With this demand comes a lucrative opportunity for medical professionals to specialize in this field.
What Is a Lip Filler Course?
A Lip Filler Course is a specialized training program designed to teach medical professionals how to safely and effectively perform lip filler procedures. These courses combine theoretical knowledge, hands-on practice, and safety protocols to ensure practitioners can deliver high-quality results.
Key components of a comprehensive course include:
Anatomy of the Lips Understanding the intricate structures of the lips, including blood vessels, muscles, and skin layers, is essential for safe and precise injections.
Product Selection Learn about different types of dermal fillers, their properties, and how to choose the right one based on your client’s goals.
Injection Techniques Mastering various techniques like linear threading, cross-hatching, and fanning ensures you can achieve a range of effects, from subtle hydration to dramatic volume.
Client Consultation Effective communication helps you understand your client’s desires and set realistic expectations.
Complication Management Be prepared to handle issues like swelling, bruising, or rare complications such as vascular occlusion.
Aftercare Instructions Providing clear post-treatment guidance ensures optimal healing and client satisfaction.
Benefits of a Lip Filler Course
1. Expand Your Skills
Adding lip filler expertise to your repertoire allows you to cater to a broader client base and grow your practice.
2. High Demand
Lip fillers are one of the most requested aesthetic treatments, making them a valuable skill for any aesthetic professional.
3. Boost Your Confidence
Hands-on training ensures you feel confident and competent in performing procedures.
4. Increased Income
With the popularity of lip fillers, offering this service can significantly boost your earnings.
5. Client Trust
Certification from a reputable course enhances your credibility and reassures clients of your expertise.
Who Should Enroll in a Lip Filler Course?
Lip filler courses are typically designed for licensed medical professionals, such as:
Nurses
Doctors
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These professionals have the foundational medical knowledge required to perform injections safely. If you’re already working in aesthetics or considering a career in this field, a lip filler course is a logical next step.
What to Look for in a Lip Filler Course
Choosing the right course is crucial for your success. Here are some factors to consider:
Accreditation Ensure the course is recognized by leading medical aesthetics bodies.
Experienced Instructors Learn from trainers who are experts in lip enhancements and have real-world experience.
Comprehensive Curriculum A good course covers everything from anatomy to advanced techniques.
Hands-On Training Practice on live models to build confidence and refine your skills.
Ongoing Support Access to mentorship and resources after completing the course can be invaluable.
The Learning Journey
A lip filler course typically involves the following steps:
Theory Sessions Learn about lip anatomy, product properties, and injection techniques.
Demonstrations Watch live demonstrations by expert trainers to see techniques in action.
Practical Training Practice on live models under the guidance of experienced instructors.
Assessment and Certification Demonstrate your skills to earn a certificate, which validates your expertise in lip filler treatments.
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At Kane Institute, we are dedicated to providing world-class training for medical professionals. Our Lip Filler Course is designed to equip you with the skills and confidence needed to excel in the aesthetics industry.
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Post-Course Support: Access ongoing mentorship and resources to help you grow your practice.
Future Opportunities in Lip Filler Treatments
The demand for skilled lip filler practitioners shows no signs of slowing down. Clients are becoming increasingly educated about their options and are seeking professionals who can deliver safe, natural-looking results.
By investing in a Lip Filler Course, you position yourself as a trusted expert in this highly competitive field. Whether you’re launching your aesthetic career or expanding an existing practice, mastering lip fillers can open doors to exciting new opportunities.
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#lip filler course#medical aesthetics training#dermal filler certification#aesthetic injector training#lip enhancement techniques
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The Sabrina Espresso singer has so much filler too and it looks so obvious. Learning she was 25 was shocking because the fuller aged her. It’s crazy because she’s the beauty standards a skinny, white blond and even she can’t escape it
Sabrina is natural! filled lips take on a lot of water and don't have any prune-y lip print wrinkles or muscle bumps around the mouth like this. her makeup artist is essentially using drag techniques to make her appear older and have bigger lips/cat eyes but if you look close it's just dark sharp pencil lines or a super opaque matte creme under a high shine gloss. It works great with sweat and under 90°f bright stage lights. but horrible in normal life. I accidentally did the exact same thing this morning and my lips looked gigantic, I had to redo them twice lol.
she literally hasn't changed since 2014 besides regular aging :)
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Pearl Aesthetic and Wellness Clinic: Transforming Smiles with Advanced Cosmetic Surgery in Bangalore
Pearl Aesthetic and Wellness Clinic in Bangalore has rapidly earned a reputation as a premier destination for those seeking high-quality cosmetic surgery.
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A Holistic Approach to Wellness
At Pearl Aesthetic and Wellness Clinic, the focus is not just on cosmetic enhancement but also on overall wellness. The clinic believes that true beauty comes from feeling good inside and out, and this philosophy guides its approach to patient care.
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From facial procedures like rhinoplasty and lip augmentation to non-surgical options such as Botox and laser treatments, Pearl Aesthetic and Wellness Clinic provides comprehensive solutions for anyone looking to enhance their beauty and boost their self-confidence.
With a commitment to excellence, innovation, and patient well-being, Pearl Clinic is truly transforming smiles and lives, one procedure at a time.
In conclusion, Pearl Aesthetic and Wellness Clinic is more than just a cosmetic surgery center. It’s a place where beauty, wellness, and confidence come together to create transformative results that make a lasting impact on both appearance and quality of life.
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4, 5, 10, 13, 14, 15 for the fanfic ask game 💕
4.How do you channel characters' voices and personalities? A lot of self reflection. Lol Writing fanfiction is a double edge sword for this one. The voices and personalities are right there. They already have a voice and personality. It makes it really easy. But at the same time, as a fanfic writer, you have a lot of liberties with that. You get a lot of writers that do not make the characters anything like they are in canon and depending on the writing, it works. Particularly in AUs. Especially in non canon ships. Because, lets be frank, in canon Kakashi wouldn't touch Sakura with a ten foot pole like that. But that's also not why we're here. I do not always write my characters the way the initially were portrayed, but I do my best to at least stay within bubble of realism. Lots of 'What would Kakashi do?' or 'Would Sakura really do that?' This usually comes in the editing process. I would advise you to that while writing. Don't want to get into the revising of a long fic and realize that what you've written does not match Kakashi's personality at all and have to rewrite motivations. *cries in fanfic* 5. What techniques do you use to create believable dialogue? Similar to above, a lot of 'what would Kakashi say' or 'What would Sakura say' I've been writing a lot more Gai recently and creating believable dialogue with him has been challenging, but in a fun way. He's very boisterous and very animated and has a very interesting manner of speaking at times. Finding the right words is important.
TLDR: just being mindful of the character's head I'm in.
Also! when I write dialogue, I try my best to have them not just standing in the ether talking to one another with their hands at their sides. No one talks like that. I try to stay away from just saying 'he said/she said' and say 'he rubs the back of his neck' or 'she presses her lips together and looks away' or if they are walking and talking have them looking around and noticing the stuff around them (even if it is the person next to them.) Using the characters quirks and mannerisms helps build out a talky-talky scene.
10.What's your favorite part about the fic writing process? Coming up with the idea and the brain storming in my head. The day dreaming. Then writing, which is the second worst part. Then revising is the bane of my existence.
13.What's the most challenging aspect of writing fanfiction for you? Besides the fact I tend to switch tenses? Which is more of a writing thing than fanfic thing... it's characterization. Hands down. I would like to create a piece of work where there is no time where the person pauses and goes 'that character wouldn't do/say that' (unless it's, you know, a driving force behind the story. Like that's the plot or the relationship). I want Kakashi to be Kakashi. I want Sakura to be Sakura. For better or worse. Flaws and all. Because playing with flaws is very fun. 14.How do you go about researching details or canon information? Naruto Wiki. It's hard because it's been a hot minute since I've read Naruto and to recall what is canon and what is filler is a bit mind reeling. I say that and recognize I do pick and choose what I pull from filler. Like Friend-Killer Kakashi. 15.Do you plan your fics or prefer to let the story unfold as you write? I do both. Usually my first write through is half a story and half outline. The second go through is where I expand on ideas and then start narrowing things down. Then some ideas take hold and I run with it. That's one of the nice things about waiting until you're done writing the whole thing before you post because you can find a great idea at the end of a piece and go back and add layers in at the beginning and no one is the wiser.
Sorry this is really wordy and long, hopefully I answered your questions!
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So I put two of elta's pic into chatgpt and asked if they seen any difference and here's what they said:
Her cheeks appear more pronounced, lifted, and fuller compared to the "before" image. This could suggest cosmetic enhancements like dermal fillers and fat transfer.
In the "after" photo, her lips appear fuller and more defined compared to the "before" image. This could suggest the possibility of lip fillers to increase volume.
When comparing the "before" and "after" photos, the nose in the "after" photo appears slightly more refined, particularly around the bridge and tip, which may suggest a subtle rhinoplasty (nose job).
Beyond the cheeks, lips, and nose, here are additional differences that stand out:
1. Jawline and Chin: In the "after" photo, her jawline appears more defined, and her chin looks slightly more sculpted. This could be due to natural aging, weight changes, or potential treatments like sculpting techniques.
2. Eyes: Her eyes appear more lifted and open in the "after" image. This could suggest procedures like a brow lift (blepharoplasty), or non-surgical treatments like Botox to reduce wrinkles and lift the brow area.
3. Skin Texture: The skin in the "after" photo looks smoother and more luminous, which might result from skincare treatments such as chemical peels, laser resurfacing, or Botox/fillers to reduce fine lines.
4. Overall Facial Volume: Her face appears slightly fuller overall in the "after" image, which could be due to dermal fillers or fat transfer to create a youthful, plump appearance.
brutal exposé from chatgpt
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Can you talk more about how you plan your goals and what you want to achieve in the future, the mindset and attitude, and how you stay focused and maintain momentum?
To me, discipline and proper planning are the most important aspects of achieving my goals. I can only maintain momentum whilst I’m up in the air; if I allow myself to droop, even for a little while, it feels impossible to get up again. I have my routines and rituals because I’ve committed to them and they ground me, they keep me focused. I’m not the sort of person who can put something down and pick it back up again easily—I have to stick to it consistently, and I’ve found that that’s the best way to see results anyway.
I plan things carefully, but I don’t let myself get caught up in the planning stage. I knew a boy at school who spent so long creating the most perfect, scientifically proven and effective, beautifully formatted study plans for the run-up to his final exams, and he ended up failing all of them—because he’d spent so long planning that in the end, he didn’t have the time to actually study. I think that a lot of people can accidentally let life fly by without them, and a lot of people think that their lives have to be put on pause whilst they achieve some goal or another: for instance, they say that they can’t go out and start a new social life or learn how to do their makeup until they’ve lost weight. This is silly—you should be staggering your goals and plans so that they work simultaneously with one another, or at the very least, take on a logical pattern.
For example, I sat down at the start of my serious dedication to my appearance, with a printed picture of my face in front of me, and devoted an hour to really scrutinising hard and determining what was really necessary. I judged which surgeries and procedures were needed and what was excessive, and then planned them out to a sensible order. It made no sense to have a rhinoplasty done before getting my orthodontic work, because my teeth could shift my new nose entirely out of joint, so I prioritised having my teeth fixed first of all, and planned to reassess once my lower face had begun to settle into shape. I had my lips blushed six months before I had them filled, so that the colour had time to settle and the filler wouldn’t blanch out my natural lip colour. I bought new skincare products in a staged process, starting with cleansers and prescription treatments and ending with masks and devices, because I didn’t want to overload my skin with too much at once, and I wanted to work in a systematic way.
I give myself a very strict timescale for planning, I use a plain notebook and pen to create charts and checklists, and then I force myself to get the ball rolling before I start to second-guess myself and make amendments. I don’t waste time with fancy computer programmes or journalling techniques that require time to master, I just keep things plain and effective, and I focus on the action over the documentation. Currently, I’m nowhere near the end of my plan and I still have courses to complete and competitions to win, and I want to graduate with honours and offers, to get engaged and married, to have children. In the nearer future, I have my baptism scheduled and the end of my conversion process, I have some places to visit and things to buy, I need to have my braces taken off and start booking consultations for my rhinoplasty, and I’m going to take my intermediate certificates for the languages I’m learning. I’m always working towards the next step and I think it’s important that you’re able to not only identify your goals, but also be able to break down the steps you need to take to reach them, and get started as soon as possible.
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