#Oily water seperator
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Chrollo was reading a palm sized red book with two trims of filigreed gold on each cover, one larger and ornate, the other a rectangle of straight shimmering gold.
It was a first edition of what was considered one of the worst period romance dramas every written, but Chrollo found himself enraptured by its every poorly concieved plot twist, period inaccuracy and confusing, poorly thought character. It all worked in some sort of a horrible dance, like groundbeef set to swirl in a typhoon of dish water.
It began with a stupid romance: characters who were wildly incompatable and lacked interaction and chemestry, so the story conspired to make them a better match. Some cataclsym must strike, reshaping them into characters more fit for each other. A revolution. Given the authors loose grasp on time and history, the specific revolution was left, generously, to the reader's imagination.
The male lover was shipped off to war, weither for duty or draft is left unclear. The next section of the book is epistolary as the author devotes 17 letters, unabridged, to the hard work character assassination. Chollo watched with, manic, memserized fascination as the female lover, originally spiteful and sassy, was carved into a simpering and wistful creature who longed only for her lover in clumsy, uneven chops.
That was as far as he got, snapping the book shut and tucking it in his breast pocket. Outwardly, even to his extremely honed senses, nothing was odd. He stood alone in a warehouse, isolated from the world. A steady drip came from the failing gutters as the water built up over clogged pipe, then spilled. Nothing was astray. And yet Chollo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"Hiyo!" Illumi said cheerfully, appearing from a clump of shadows.
"Hello." Chollo said, smiling slightly to calm himself.
They approached each other, coming to stand near the center of the warehouse with a puddle of water, oily and prismatic, between them.
"So?" Illumi prompted
"Right to the point then. I want you to kill the 10 dons."
Illumi put hand to his chin, appearing to calcuate something.
"Murders like that aren't cheap. The Dons will have men close to them, aware of nen and experienced too," he said, seemingly coming to a conclusion, "it will be expensive."
Chrollo chuckled to himself, then said "money shouldn't be a problem," but Illuni held up his hand.
"let me explain why it might be, but first I trust you are aware that the 10 dons have hired dad and grandpa to hunt you down?"
Chrollo lapsed for a single moment.
"Yes." he said finally.
Illumi nodded. "Good. Normally, a job like this would cost double, but that's because you would be hiring two zoldycks. Because dad and grandad are busy, I'll have to get two zoldycks to fill in."
"So I'm paying triple. That's fine."
"Not exactly." Illumi said, "unless specific members of the family are contacted, contracts are assigned through a kind of internal review."
"Review?"
"Each Zoldyck has two hidden maximums and minimums," Illumi held up a finger on each hand. "When a contract is submitted, its assigned a price based on difficulty. Then, the contract is 'offered' to each family member in ascending order of age. This is compared with the first minimum and maximum, called your Personal Minimum and maximum. If it's above or below that amount, the contract is rejected and then 'offered' to the next eldest."
"What happens if a contract is below the families' minimum? or above it?" Chrollo asked, curiousity getting the better of him.
"We don't do charity work unless it's training, and even then those are mostly privately arranged. Once a zoldyck becomes of age, they may set their maximum at any value. I have yet to meet an offer that exceeds my maximums."
"but don't you have seperate finances?" Chrollo's curiousity kept winning, "wouldn't a system that favors the younger push out the older?"
"Only if you wasted your youth." Illumi said, "Besides, the older zoldycks largely rely on private contracts anyway."
"Like this one."
"Which brings us to the second minimum and maximum, Assistive. When a job, usually private, requires more than one of us, the 'risk price' is divided evenly amoung the number of zolycks needed, then this is compared with the assistive max and min. The Assistive maximum is always infinite, and the Assistive minimum is compared with the contract price: the further the minimum is from the price the larger the bonus that zoldyck recieves."
"Bonus?"
Illumi nods, "sort of a fee for working a job you didn't choose, based on the difficulty of it. It scales exponentially."
"But wait, doesn't that mean you could set the assistive minimum at zero? in order for a contract to be checked at all, a different zoldyck must have already accepted it, meaning it's a great deal of money. There would be essentially no need for a minimum."
"Bing-o! For a long time, Killua's Assistive minimum was the price of a chocorobo. It's best way to make a tidy sum off of a contract you didn't choose is to pick a very low assistive minimum."
Chrollo furrowed his brow, "then why have them at all?"
"Setting your assistive minimum above another zoldyck's personal maximum means you can avoid sharing contracts as one example." Illumi said.
Chrollo nodded then said, "You can take everything I have." his heart twinged for the book so close to it.
Illumi shook his head, "That's most but not all. You're going to have to owe me a favor."
"The idea of owing a zoldyck anything makes my teeth stand on edge." Chrollo mumbled to himself. "What kind of favor?"
Illumi put a finger back to his chin, pretending to think.
"Let me join the spiders." he said, after a moment.
Chrollo snorted, "we're not exactly recruiting. You could join the traditional way if you want but..."
"but zoldycks don't do charity work." Illumi finished, "who knows, there might be an opening soon. Keep me in mind."
Chrollo nodded silently.
"You'll still have to pay most of it for the other Zoldycks. Half up front, half after like usual. You know what account I use." With that, Illumi melted back into the darkness and after a moment or two, Chrollo felt he was alone again. Sitting back down, he pulled from his breast pocket the red book and began to read again.
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Biblically accurate brownies.
To be serious though, this looks like either too much oil or too much egg was used. The holes normally indicate water boiling out of the brownies as they cook and the oil in general just sogs it to hell and causes a weird play-doh'y/grainy/oily turn-out. The only other reasons I can think of is you either undermixed/overmixxed the batter or the brownie mix was expired/factory faulted in some manner. Oh--and something new I learned is that elevation effects baking as well..(mixes will 'usually' have a seperate area on the box/etc. to tell you anything different you need to do.)
Made the worst brownies ever created just now
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i think i have to present about how an oily water seperator works today -.-
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skincare and tiktoks : s.s
brief summary: scott can’t help but be intrigued by your skincare routine and wants to join in, filming a tiktok of the process along the way
word count: 1.1k requested: yes by two seperate anons! i combined two requests of making tiktoks w scott and doing skincare with him- i hope you guys like the outcome warnings: skin care routine is kinda based on my own and might not be accurate/recommended idk so don’t judge the details of that too bad lmao
* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)
DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING
“Why does your skin actually glow?” Scott questions as you shuffle in bed, rubbing your face as you begin to wake up.
Yawning loudly, you fully open your eyes to see your boyfriend focusing on you. “Sweat and having an oily complexion babe.” You mumble, hearing a soft chuckle leave his lips as he sits upright, still admiring your natural beauty.
“Are there products that you use? Cause Jaq had loads when she moved in, like a box or two dedicated to skincare.” Scott explains whilst you refuse to move, perfectly comfortable wrapped up in the duvet. “And I used that blue bottle you kept in the shower the other day, and it was-”
“You used what?” Snapping yourself out from peaceful rest, you look at Scott with wide eyes whilst his lips remain parted, having been cut off in mid-sentence.
Scott cleared his throat, realising he was in the danger zone depending on what he next said. “I erm, I used that scrub stuff in the blue bottle?” His voice rises at the end as he raises an eyebrow, seeing your expression remain stoic.
“Okay.” You quietly respond, nodding your head. “Okay, that’s fine.” You sigh as you rise to your feet. “Only cost me like twenty bucks but it’s chill.” You shrug a shoulder, and Scott’s eyes widen now.
“TWENTY BUCKS?!” He almost yells, causing you to jump as you turn around.
Looking at the shock written across his face, any annoyance you had immediately melts.
“You don’t even wanna know how much the other products cost.” You comment with a smile on your face as Scott rises from your bed, following you into the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, you watch as Scott stands behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he grins brightly to your reflection.
“Will you help me with my skincare routine?” Scott asks and you nod, reaching up into the cupboard revealing all of the shelves stocked with your things and a small corner with Scott’s toothbrush.
“Okay, so I usually start with a shower,” You explain, turning around to face your boyfriend as you remain trapped between him and the sink.
Scott can’t help but smirk, watching as you roll your eyes. “Wanna save water?” He mutters, but you can’t help but laugh at his attempt at subtly asking you.
Bending down, you move away from him and reach for the tap to turn the water on. “Come on then,” You motion and Scott takes his top off whilst you begin to undress.
*
“Now what?” Scott sits beside you in your bedroom as you wear a towel turban, Scott copying you.
“I cleanse my skin after using the shower scrub.” You explain, motioning for him to follow you back into the bathroom.
Cleansing was definitely an easier step to your routine as Scott sets his phone up, recording you both. “I’m making a TikTok.” He mumbles as you smile up at him, squirting some cleanser onto your fingertips before gliding it across his skin.
“Now we clean it off with warm water, and rinse with cold.” You look at the phone screen, seeing how intently Scott is listening to you as you lean down and clean your face, reaching for a towel afterwards.
Once Scott cleans his face, he stands back up straight, only to see you giggle. “What?” He asks, touching his face.
“You dork.” You chuckle, taking his hands away from his face as you remove a bit of cleanser from his eyebrow. “Come on, now we tone.”
You were both a few steps into the routine now, and secretly Scott was enjoying himself. It felt luxurious and relaxing to do this with you, watching as you prepare for your day even if it consists of just lounging around the house.
“Okay, so what do we do now?” Scott asks you, eager for the next step as his skin feels dewy, fresh and glowy like yours.
Humming to yourself, you pull out the drawer in your dresser, revealing two sheet masks. “I mean, why not? I’ve not got anything better to do.” You suggest and Scott takes the mask from you.
“Wait are these superhero ones?” He gasps, looking at the packaging.
“Yeah, I got them on sale.” You chuckle, completely forgetting he was recording the entire thing to edit later. “You wanna be Spiderman or Wonder Woman?”
Scott looks between the two, seeing the one in his hand and opens it up. “Wonder woman it is then.” You chuckle as he applies the mask, smoothing the edges whilst you apply yours.
Sitting still, Scott looks over at you as he holds back a laugh. “So we just sit here?” He asks, watching as you nod. “You look ridiculous.” He points out and you glance over, a smile forming beneath your mask.
“So do you.” You admit before standing up. “Wanna do a dance for TikTok whilst these are on?” You suggest and Scott jumps to his feet whilst you learn one of Mariah’s new routines to Scott’s newest song.
Finishing the routine and uploading it to TikTok (after eight failed previous attempts) you sat back down and removed your mask, along with Scotts.
“My face feels weird.” Scott rubs his hands over his cheeks before placing them on yours and squirming. “It’s all wet.” He looks down at his hands with wide eyes and you laugh lightly before rubbing the product into your skin and down your neck.
“I’ll say this now, if we get rashes I blame myself.” You hold your hand up in defence, Scott taking a mental note as you throw the used masks away.
Whilst your gone, Scott can see notifications rolling in on the dance video you just made. Most of the comments consist of adoration for you both as a couple, and how single people feel after watching you both.
“Having fun?” You ask as you walk in, seeing Scott positively glowing.
Nodding in response, Scott locks his phone before walking over and wraps his arms around your waist.
“Is there any other step to this routine?” He questions, raising an eyebrow.
Yet, you shake your head. “That would be it, but I don’t mind rounding it off with this.” You rise up and kiss him softly, resting your hand on his soft cheek as he smiles into your lips.
“And we do this everyday?” Scott mutters as he pulls away, looking down at you.
“More or less, and you’ll be glowing in no time hot stuff.” You nudge him playfully, leaving him with a bashful smile on his lips as you wander out of the room to play with Dragon.
#i hope you enjoyed!#scotty sire#scotty sire imagine#scotty sire imagines#scotty sire fluff#scotty sire angst#scotty sire x reader#scotty sire oneshot#scott sire#scott sire imagine#scott sire imagines#scott sire x reader#vlog squad#vlog squad imagine#vlog squad imagines#vlog squad x reader#vlog squad fluff#vlog squad oneshot#vlog squad angst#vlogsquad#vlogsquad imagine#vlogsquad imagines#vlogsquad fluff#vlogsquad angst#vlogsquad x reader#vlogsquad oneshot
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Overgrown Metal
Series Summary - Almost two decades ago, the fae rose up from beyond the veil with technology far surpassing the human race, quickly taking over after laying waste to nearly everything in their wake. Now eight paths cross to right the wrongs on both ends, working to uncover secrets that would have rather stayed hidden.
Chapter 3 - Keep Moving
The spacious barn creaked lazily as the sounds of swearing and hammering overflowed its weather worn walls. It had been repurposed years ago, the old owners either long dead or moved out once the forest began to take over. As it was now it had been cleared of the twisting roots and oddly growing branches that had once threatened to consume it completely, now standing in a small clearing with a house beside it sitting just as pristine. The barn, though repaired, leaned slightly to the side, braced on an extension that housed a lab of sorts with one other room branching out that acted as cold storage.
The main room itself was currently where loud banging could be heard with the occasional swear sprinkled in as the owner tried valiantly to seperate pieces of plate metal from the skull of a fallen beast, eyes vacant and jaw slack as it sat on the table surrounded by already disassembled parts of itself scattered about and repurposed to varying degrees. Jars of different colored oily substances sat on a cart nearby, with empty ones still waiting to be filled. The hammer was thrown down suddenly, its owners pointed ears twitching in irritation as he dragged a hand down his face and took a breath. Sighing loudly, Logan turned and stalked off to the other end of the room to get a crow bar off the rack in hopes that his new method would work.
As he began trying to pry between plates he felt more than heard the halting footsteps outside the barn, though who it was was clearly trying his best to be quiet. Rolling his eyes Logan slammed the crowbar in a weak spot and pulled hard enough to bend the plate and send the bar snapping back to narrowly miss his face. He scowled as sweat dripped into his eyes, rolling his shoulders and gripping the tool with a white knuckled grip.
"It truly is a wonder you haven't killed yourself yet. To think of all that education going to waste with a cracked skull in an old barn, it's almost enough to make me care to check in more."
"The only reason you come in here is because I'm the only thing within a hundred mile radius who doesn't wish you dead on sight."
"How you wound me. It's at least two hundred when I'm far enough away from the coast." Logan smirked as he heard the irritated tap of the others cane punctuating his statement.
Sighing, he placed the crowbar on the bench and turned to face the intruder, leaning against it while crossing his arms. "Hyden."
"Logan." The other greeted mutually. Though he was typically a bit more put together his thick caplet lay crookedly across his tense shoulders, arms taunt as he leaned heavily on his cane with both hands resting on the top. His long hair curled in the afternoon humidity and Logan definitely didn't miss the slight furrow of his brows, though he knew he would be loathe to admit he was in any sort of pain.
Letting out a heavier sigh Logan pushed away from the bench and gestured for the other to follow him. "Join me, I need a break anyway."
Hyden gasped. "The head scientist admitting he needs a break? Who's hand do I need to shake for downloading an once of self preservation into that thick skull?"
"I'll have you know I take breaks on a regular basis, something you clearly need to be reminded of."
"The audacity! I walk all the way here to visit a long time friend-"
"You walked?" Logan shot him a sharp glance as he held the door, gesturing the other into the old farmhouse.
Waving away the concern, Hyden continued. "I flew most of the way don't worry. I only ducked below the treeline the last few miles so I wouldn't be followed, you're welcome for the concern and forethought."
Snorting, Logan pulled out a chair and moved to collect containers of herbs and thr kettle, sighing for the fourth time as it was blatantly ignored for the refrigerator. As the kettle heated he carefully measured out the proper ingredients, glancing over every now and again to try and catch what his guest was poking at.
"Are those by any chance agarose gels?"
Walking past the fridge to put things away he caught sight of what the other was observing, humming his confirmation.
"Logan, why do you have DNA gels next to leftover chicken salad in your refrigerator?"
"The chicken salad seems irrelevant." The kettle whistled to give him an excuse to avoid the question, carefully pouring out the boiling water.
"Logan."
"Hyden." The name slipped out easily despite his annoyance, making him wonder for a brief moment if he would struggle when he was finally told his real name.
The mans cane taps were heavier than normal as he made his way over to the table and flopped down without his usual show. Giving Logan a quiet thank you he proceeded to wrap his hands around the steaming mug, frowning in concentration. "Are you trying to find them again?"
"I fail to comprehend what you could possibly-"
"Because they're trying to find you. And they're getting close."
Logan was quiet as he sat, his wrapped hands folding somewhat painfully around his own drink. Pursing his lips he avoided looking at Hyden for a long moment, nevertheless feeling his gaze attempting to pick him apart. Arranging his expression to be carefully neutral he took a drink, smiling as the other did so as well.
"Make sure to drink all of it, it'll help with pain."
"Did you even listen to what I said?!" Throwing his hands up in exasperation he fixed Logan with his best glare.
"Hard not to with that grating tone."
"Well this grating tone," he growled out. "Is telling you to get your head out of your ass and maybe make sure you're safe before telling someone else to take care of themselves."
Logan dragged a hand down his face, suddenly tired. "Where exactly do you expect me to go? I'm so close to figuring out what they're using to power those things, if I move now I won't have any access to the equipment I need, no studies will be concluded, and nearly all of my experiments will be left behind to rot! I need more time."
"Time isn't exactly a luxury here. You're being stubborn and ignorant, as usual, and if you would just listen-" he stopped short as he caught the look the other was giving him, letting out a breath of defeat and softening his tone. "It doesn't have to be today. But it does have to be soon. I'll even come with you, help you scout out a new location if you'd like. I'm sure there's plenty to be found with a little digging."
Mugs empty save for the dregs silence rang between them as they lost themselves in thought. Distantly Logan was aware of the old grandfather clock ticking, suddenly thinking what a shame it would be to leave the sound behind. He knew the other was right even before he fully decided to voice it. Instead he quietly looked over at him, the scales that freckled his face gleaming with the last rays of the evening sunlight. If they were truly leaving, they would have to be careful. Though he knew Hyden was loathe to do so he could easily shift his appearance to hide his scales. Logan wouldn't be so lucky, his slightly off colored skin and pointed ears a dead give away to what his heritage was, even if he had defected from it when the war broke out. He was obviously fae, and that would do him no favors outside of the protection of his remote location.
But he really couldn't stay. If the guard was truly zeroing in on his location he would much rather abandon his research and try to pick it up wherever he could than even think about getting caught and wondering whether he could escape before he was undoubtedly punished for his crimes against his people. He shuddered uneasily as he stood, carefully avoiding eye contact as he took the mugs to the sink and began to wash them. He stared out the window towards the treeline as he did, having to squint to make out the weak protective barrier set around the perimeter by Hyden years ago. Beyond that lay dense forest only a madman would dare trek through.
Or fae guards with strict orders.
Squaring his shoulders before they could droop in defeat he turned to face his companion with a level stare.
"Give me two days."
-------
"Two more days? I thought the town was closer than that." Virgil irritably kicked a stone into the water, splattering the bottom of Roman's pants. They huffed in response, their frustration easily matching Virgil's as they shifted the pack on their shoulders.
"I said at most two more days, it might be sooner than that. We've never really been this far out before, which is a good thing but it means guessing the distance. Pouting isn't going to make it be any closer."
"Not pouting." Virgil pouted, crossing his arms before realizing what he was doing and angrily shoving them in his hoodie pockets.
Snorting with amusement Roman shifted the pack again before grunting and heaving it up and off their shoulder, immediately sagging in relief. Their burden was lifted further as Virgil tugged it out of their grasp and shouldered it easily, walking ahead while adjusting to the weight.
"Thank you."
"You were slowing us down. Somebody's gotta make sure we stay on schedule."
Roman squawked with indignation, jogging a bit to catch up with the emos longer gait. Their mouth thinned as they thought of how to bring up a concern they'd been thinking about for a while, gripping the straps of their pack tightly in apprehension.
"Alright. Spill it." They blinked as Virgil stopped, dropping both the packs and plopping down in the dirt.
"What?"
"Being anxious is my job and right now you're forcing me into unemployment. So either talk or I'm throwing you in the river."
"You do and I'm eating the last two cans of spaghettios tonight while you get nothing but croutons."
Virgil narrowed his eyes. "I fucking dare you to go through with that threat. You do not come between a man and the last can of shitty microwave pasta."
"I have the food pack."
"And I have the flint and steel so start talking before I decide to set you on fire instead of drowning you."
Unceremoniously flopping to the ground they let out an annoyed huff while shrugging off the back pack. "Fine. I've been thinking....that with this next town..maaaaybe finding another person or two to travel with would be in our best interests?"
The last half of the thought came out rushed and nearly incomprehensible but Roman could tell Virgil had heard them clearly as his face adopted a carefully neutral expression, hands twisting tightly in his lap.
"Roman..."
"I know! I know, I definitely get it. But, it would be easier to carry supplies and we could have more! We wouldn't have to stop in towns so much-"
"Roman."
"And it might be safer! More people means more weapons means more protection right?"
"Roman."
They shut their mouth in worry at the defeated tone Virgil had adopted. He twisted his hands tighter, hesitant to continue now that he actually could.
"Am I not....do you not feel safe enough with me?"
Roman sucked in a breath as they realized how Virgil had taken their concerns, rushing to try and fix it. "It's definitely not that! I-Virgil I'm so sorry that isn't what I meant at all!"
They leaned forward and began gently detangling his fingers from each other, holding them tightly once they finally managed it. "Anx it isn't like that. I honestly worry that you aren't safe enough with me. And once our load gets heavier with trading supplies we slow down and it never seems like we're on the road long enough before what little supplies we can carry run out. It was only a thought I wanted to discuss, not an attack on your skill as a fighter."
Their eyes met Virgil's and they breathed a sigh of relief when they were met with understanding, nonetheless continuing to rub soothing circles across his knuckles until he pulled away.
"I guess..." he glanced over at the near overflowing pack of trading goods. "I guess I can see that yeah. But I don't-Roman how can we trust anyone?"
"We probably can't. But we'll look anyway and if we don't find anyone then we don't find anyone. Just, keep an open mind?"
Crossing his arms Virgil looked away to stare out at the water instead, face drawn with apprehension. After a minute he ducked his head in defeat, nodding slowly and standing up. "Yeah. We'll keep a look out. But if we do find someone and after a while they start to act shady we drop them alright? No debate."
"No debate." Roman readily agreed as they stood as well. They began walking again, the silence much less tense than it had been all afternoon. Grinning a bit, Roman smacked their lips in thought. "With that delay it might be two and a half days now."
"Oh come on!"
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FIC: Dream A Little Dream
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Her dreams used to be an indistinguishable mass - a grey fog of rolling mists, with bursts of white that would leave her cleansed and blemishes of black that would swallow her whole - that she always woke refreshed from but never the same sense of fulfillment from the dreams before.
The dreams from after her father's death but before her own. The dreams that came from the first person that she had poured her heart out for had never returned.
Before his death, she had dreamed in the technicolor landscape of childhood complete with heroes and villains, monsters with blunt teeth defeated by a golden haired knight, a princess with cowboy boots and a slingshot in her pocket. Her dreams had been the visions of a child raised on the darker side of the world but still bubblegum glowing and rarely did the danger win over the finality of safety.
After though, the color had faded out of her dreams the same that they had faded from her waking hours. Like they had been painted in her dreams with watercolors and not the bold acrylics of her childhood, and had faded and washed away to nothing with each extra tear drop that would soak through the pages of her mind.
Her dreams were never calming but neither were they unsettling. Just a blank rolling shift of mist across her mind, a thick cloud that seperated her mind from conciousness, but never tugging a firm image or shape from the depths of that mist. She would sometimes see a shape she thought she recognised, but could never reach it and as soon as she would focus on the dark shape walking just inside the fog it would disapate as if it had never been there. A figment of her underactive imagination.
Her last ever dream in that lifetime was much the same, but had woken her with a twisting stomach as those soft clouds had turned darker and darker as the minutes of the pre-dawn had ticked away.
She had woken unsettled but refreshed, ready to face the day that she wouldn't live to see the other side of, her eyes opening to the blinding white glare of the earliest beams of sun from her position curled up on the worn, old couch beside Bobby's desk to beat away those dark clouds that had threatened to swallow her whole. She'd half thought she'd have been better off to take Dean's offer, to exhaust herself to the point of dreamless sleep in preparation of the mission ahead, but it was better off to get that last dream in.
That was the last of those dreams she ever had, and Jo wished she could go back to the formless shapes, the softness of the rippling fog, and the way she could wake up not in a cold sweat.
Since she returned, her dreams were nothing like the vast nothingness that she'd once dreamed in. The greyscale watercolours of that time. They were nothing like the bright acrylic dreams of childhood either - full of vibrancy and joy, even those which woke her in a scream and would have her daddy's arms wrap around her or her mommy's soothing fingers running through her hair.
Her dreams now were thick oil paintings, the dark kind where the edges of the canvas were blurred in the black and the thick splashes of blood were deep, rich and tasted metallic on the air. They were the things of true nightmares, darkest fears come to life and pouring through her sleeping hours, like a rot burying into her skull and formed in the darkness of her history, drenched in the blood she had spilled.
Disembodied voices screamed to her, whispered to her, called to her - voices of those she had lost, those she had failed, those that she would never see again. Her father's voice, usually a source of comfort before, hissed at her; the soft way that her brother would say her name turned foul and twisted into a snarl; the choruses of girls and boys, men and women, all those that she had failed to save from the wreck of the world calling out to her in a ghostly harmony. Deep growls that haunted her, echoes of those barks and snarls she heard on her last living day, would build the bass underneath the other voices like a terrible drum beat. And worst of all was his voice - commanding and vacant like the last time she'd heard it - repeating over and over "Sweet little Joanna, you've been chosen ".
The walls of her dreams were blackness, the beheaded forms would pin her down and drag her into the darkness no matter how much she ran.
The hot, moist breath would rush across her skin. The heavy pants of her invisible followers urging her on quicker and quicker, deeper and deeper into the eerie, thick oily depths would be at her heels as she ran.
Her father's hands would grip her feet as she ran, his headless judgement staring up at her when she'd pull free of his cries for her to come back to him, to be his little girl, his cries asking what happened to her and what had she become.
Her brother would catch her around the waist and try to drag her into the walls with him, his many, many nicknames for her hissed from the dark corners as those sleeveless arms would try to grip her firm enough to stop her breaking free, his watch would cut and scratch at her every time she pulled free of him.
And then there would be the angel's firm grip on her back, pressing her against the formless darkness in the dreams that he caught her where she couldn't run fast enough - when her feet would feel like lead and the darkness would get deeper and deeper, swallowing her whole as it rose from the floor like the darkest waters of a cave to cover her.
And some times she would run fast enough she would simply drown in the cold darkness of the rising waters, and feel it slide down her throat, fill her lungs, and choke her from the inside with the icy grip of that otherworldly voice hissing that Jo was hers before her eyes would snap open and that voice would not leave her ears with the collapse of her dream.
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Venom-o-us Ch4: Acute Period
I fucking.... Love writing this story guys. It is just so much fun.
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You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, confused.
“Lost? What do you mean we lost?” You asked, sitting up again and dropping your arms to your sides. Your right arm felt like it was throbbing, especially by the collarbone area. When you looked over at it, you noticed where your pajamas instead took a dark and oozy look, coating your entire shoulder area in pure Venom.
Means we lost. Did not win. Lee is more dangerous now.
“How did we lose? We are here, you must have beat him, right?” You questioned, concern thick on your voice. There was a moment of silence, and that made your concern worsen. “Are you okay?”
You were hurt. We couldn’t finish Lee without losing you too. Chose you over Lee. He escaped.
“Venom, I’m not asking about Lee, I asked if you were okay.” You clarified, and their was another thoughtful pause.
Missing part of us. Was in rush to save you. Got hurt, kept going.
At that, you scrambled out of bed and nearly tripped yourself running to the bathroom so quickly. You stumbled to the sink and flicked on the light, quickly looking into the mirror. “Missing- He took a part of you!? Are you okay!? How bad is it? Are your hurting?”
Not hurting now. Not much gone. Enough to be dangerous, and Lee is already dangerous.
“But you really are okay?” You asked again, touching the mirror and looking for any hints of Venom. Your vision went black and memories flashed in the back of your mind, speeding much too quickly for you to make out anything. Venom was looking for something, and after a little while, they found it.
The scene was too bright and hazy, the colors washed out like someone didn’t know the settings of a camera, so it took you a moment to realize it was a memory of your childhood. Back when you were trying to grow your hair out longer, before changing your mind and spontaneously wanting to cut most of it off. You could see your mom- looking much younger than you last saw her- standing behind your child self. She carefully lifted your hair up and gracefully cut at it with the kitchen scissors, letting the hair fall to the tiled ground.
Time quickly reversed a few seconds, and your mom pulled at your darker than black hair, more oily than it should be, and you mom chopped it once more. The scene reset again, but this time your mother painfully yanked at your hair to get you to sit up straight, saying things that were muffled by the memory, before cutting off the thick tendrils of Venom trailing from your head.
The darkness faded from your vision and you snapped back to reality, seeing your present self blinking rapidly through the mirror.
Felt like that. Fine now.
You took a deep breath and shut your eyes tight, still trying to get used to all of the rides through memory lane Venom was giving you. “Hhh… Hair. Okay, like cutting hair.” You took another quick breath and stood up, looking into the mirror again. “So what does that mean? Are you weaker now? Should I be concerned for you?”
Should be only concerned about Lee. He is angry. He-
“I said I don’t care about him. Stay focused.” You interrupted your other and placed a hand on the shoulder Venom was covering.
… Should be fine. Was not much, just a little. Just scared.
And you could feel it. There was that underlying fear making your heart race, but if it was your fear for the safety of Venom, or fear that belonged to Venom, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t want to be seperated. You didn’t want to be used. You didn’t want to kill more innocent people.
You took a step back, realizing that you couldn’t quite tell where your thoughts were being influenced by Venom. “Calm down. I’m here with you, right? You saved me, and that means we didn’t lose yet. We can get that part of you away from him, and you won’t have to worry about that ever again. Okay?” You asked, gently rubbing the symbiote. You looked down, thoughts thinking back to the fight. “After all, it’s my fault he got that bit of you. I should have listened to you.”
Yes, but we understand. Lee was also clever, and tried to keep himself from getting exposed to others as well. Did not end up well for him either.
You bit your cheek, trying to think. “So… He’s clever, stronger, and has weapons that can hurt us. How do we beat him?”
Can’t. Not strong enough on our own. We need help.
“You got friends?” You asked, hopeful. You didn’t think Venom would be the kind of alien to make friends, but they were quick to say that you needed help.
Of sorts. Can lead us to them.
You felt your eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise, and you quickly walked out of the bathroom and headed towards the window. “Great then lets go-”
No.
“...No?” You stopped. “I thought you wanted to get that part of you back asap?”
We need to get that part of us away from Lee, yes. But you are still hurt. And hungry. We need our strength or we risk worse.
You didn’t even notice you were hungry until Venom said so. “Right, okay… Um, do you want something in particular? I can order delivery.” You sat at the couch and opened your laptop, ready to search up whatever Venom was craving, if they even prefered any food other than chocolate. You weren’t sure how much of your body was shared afterall.
Steak. Make it bloody.
You didn’t know what else you expected. “Does… Does New York deliver cooked steaks?” You questioned, quickly typing in an appropriate search for it. Lo and behold, New York delivers everything. The price made you hesitate though, loudly blowing through your lips as you looked at the unreasonable number. Movement got your attention, and you watched a dark tendril reach out of your pajamas and lay a hundred dollar bill on the computer.
“Fine, but just because you deserve a treat.” You caved, quickly typing in your address and placing the order. You felt that warm fluffy satisfaction feeling in the back of your head again, and it in turn made you smile. “Now we wait.”
You laid down onto your couch, getting the pillow comfortably under your head, and you let yourself relax. Even though your body was comfortable, your mind still hummed with thoughts and questions, and you could feel Venom slightly shifting over your shoulder.
You want to ask. Go ahead.
“I was just wondering… If you wanted to talk about what happened with Spiderman, and all of that.” You could feel Venom shrink ever so slightly at that, seeming to not like that question. “I only ask because you seemed… troubled, after that memory. And I just want to be aware of any possible triggers you might have after that so I can avoid them for you.”
We are fine.
Venom was too quick to answer, and you gently rubbed your shoulder to comfort them. “Listen, I’ve had a shitty therapist and only had like two actual therapy sessions, but even I know it’s better to talk about it than just pretend you are fine. I know you aren’t, I can feel it.” They stayed quiet. “Would you want me to hide a wound from you, if it made things easier for you?”
No. We heal, and protect.
“This is no different. Emotional damage can be worse than physical damage, especially to someone that heals from everything.” You said, and that seemed to get to Venom. Something changed in the back of your head, a need to share, but then you felt it be pulled back again. “Come on, I’m here for you. That’s what friends do.”
It’s hard.
“I get that. Let’s start slow, okay? Give me some quick general thoughts when you think ‘Spiderman’ right now.” As you finished speaking, you felt pulled back into the dark memories of Venom, clusters of emotion and experiences more than visuals this time, but you could understand.
Love. Pure, blissful love, burning so unfamiliarly within you. A need to please, to grant his every wish, to impress. You showed off, making him strong, protecting him, making his life convenient. Embracing him fully, and feeling his joy as your own. And the pain- the pain and the ringing and the-
“Slow down. You did good, take a breath.” You spoke, pulling the two of you out of those thoughts before you fell too far into the rabbit hole. It felt like you were swimming in the ocean, and at any point a wave could come crashing down a you, but you willed the two of you to stay floating in the currently calm waters.
“You loved him, but he didn’t know you were living. What happened to change that?” You prompted to continue, trying to keep Venom slow and steady.
A visit to a doctor. A doctor you’ve seen before, but couldn’t place. They studied the two of you, making Spiderman even more impressed, and you even happier to let him know you were alive. But instead of joy, or confusion, or any sort of attempt of communication, he tried pulling you off. It was an immediate decision. He did not hesitate, did not consider all that you’ve done for him, and instead he tore through you, desperate to be rid of you. You held tighter, no, no, no please, you wanted to be with him. You can help him more yet, why did he hate you? Why did he hurt you? You just wanted to hold him and let him think about what he was doing, but then the doctor interrupted, hurting the both of you with sound. A gun, not unlike the one Lee had.
You jolt out of the memory as you felt yourself be painfully torn and stripped from Spiderman, bringing you back to the couch and breathing hard. “Oh… That, that hurts…” Your skin stung from the memory like a bad sunburn for a few moments, but it quickly faded as you breathed. You slowly filtered through the memory again, at your own pace, but something threw you off. “There were no bells? I thought I heard bells last time?” You asked softly.
Was not only time.
Your eyes widened at that. “You were with him more than once?”
Escaped doctor. Needed to convince Spiderman we were good. We wanted to help. He did not want us.
More memories drifted through your mind. Escaping the glass prison they made for you. Tricking Spiderman to be close and put you on, only to try and surprise him and communicate. You came all this way just for him, but he did not even try to listen. He tried running for the doctor again, but you pulled and struggled against him, trying to keep him from the pain, from hurting you again. You just wanted to help. You just wanted to be with him.
But he found himself at church bells, and yelled at you. He screamed, hitting the bells, over and over, yelling how he would rather die than be with you. You couldn’t hold onto him, the pain being too much, and you fell away. You expected him to kick you, to run and flee, to do something now that he was free of you. But instead he collapsed. The bells were too much even for him, and as much as the bells hurt, seeing him like that hurt worse. You pulled, and struggled, and carried him away from the bells, your love for him overriding the betrayal, if for a short while.
He did not seem to know you saved him, or if he did, he did not care. Much later when you found someone else to be with, to share and protect, he did the same to them. First the gun, then the bells, then the doctor. Other jumps in the memory flashed by, other betrayals Spiderman had done. Traps he had set up, offering himself to you as bait. The double crosses he led, even after giving you his word and after you helped him. Again and again, he broke promises and lied to you. Hurting you every time without fail.
The memories sped up and faded, giving you the impression that those were different memories for a later time. You cleared your throat and blinked, seeing your apartment around you once more. “Fuck man…” Your voice cracked ever so slightly, and you realized your face felt hot. You sniffed, brushing the back of your hand against your cheek and seeing that you must have been crying during the memories.
Sorry. We did not mean-
“Fuck Spiderman.” You interrupted, feeling angry and letting the tears continue to their own volition. You weren't much of a crier, so you couldn't help but wonder if this was how Venom’s emotions were manifesting. “He fucking… he doesn’t deserve you, after all you done for him. How could he just do that to you?” You took a deep shaky breath, cutting it short when you heard the door knock.
Food is here?
“Yeah.” You sniffed again, rubbing at your eyes and making your way to the door. You opened the door and saw a cute ginger wearing the logo of the website you bought the steak off of, and she looked cheery until she saw your most likely red teary face.
“Are… are you okay?” She asked, quickly looking back at the sticky note in her hand and to your door number, as if to make sure she had the right door.
“Yeah. Ex troubles. Sorry, I hope you got change.” You wiped at your eyes again with one hand while passing her the hundred, and she quickly dug into her pocket to make change. She said some number that you didn’t bother to listen to, and you gave her and extra ten for the trouble before taking the bag and uttering a quick thank you. The door closed slightly louder than you intended, but you dropped the bag onto the table next to your couch, and you sat heavily on the cushions.
Do you hate Spiderman, for what he did to you?
Venom asked, shocking you at that question. “For what he done to me? No, the worst thing he’s done to me is not notice me. That is disappointing as hell, seeing how I would have died without you, but that… I can’t be angry at him for that. If that was the case, then I might as well be angry at every hero for not noticing me when I was dying.” You ran a hand through your hair and leaned back, thinking and feeling the confusion in the back of your head.
“No, I fucking hate him for what he did to you. ” You ground your teeth. You could feel Venom’s surprise at that, but they grew quiet and still in your thoughts. Eventually the smell of the steak seeped through the bag, getting your attention. “Enough of that asshole, let’s eat.” You quickly pulled out the delivered food, pleasantly surprised at the surplus of fries they gave you along with your rare steak.
You started eating, the flavor of everything was wonderful. The steak practically melted in your mouth, a hint of honey tickling your senses as you swallowed. Venom seemed to like it as well, satisfaction hanging in your mind almost like a haze as you ate. The fries were just the right crispness, no ketchup needed with their delicious salted flavor.
You reached for more of the fries, to suddenly notice they were all gone. You blinked out of your haze, and apparently the steak was gone already as well. “Aw.” You uttered, shoulders dropping ever so slightly. “No leftovers.” That did surprise you slightly, seeing how much food you had, and how it felt you only had a few bites.
Was very good.
“It was. Shame this place is so expensive, else I’d say we could do this like as a weekly thing…” You considered a moment, but shook your head. “I’ll see if I can make you some steaks myself later on. I’m not much of a cook, but you probably like that more than you would my usual meals.” You looked at the empty tupperware with longing eyes before shutting it up, stuffing it back in the bag, and dropping it into the trash.
You stood in the quiet room, looking around for a moment. You didn’t really know what else to do, and you yawned, apparently sleepy from the meal. That wouldn’t do, you didn’t want to ruin your sleep cycle even more than it already was. You gently slapped the sides of your face, pulled your arms up in a stretch, and swayed side to side to wake yourself up more. Bending down, you touched your toes much easier than usual, and you stood up again and just swung your arms around.
Then you noticed that you arm was no longer hurting.
“Huh?” You asked, looking at your shoulder. Venom was no longer making that area dark and sticky looking, instead it was just your plain pajamas. “Oh, are we better now?” You asked, rubbing the area and not feeling any soreness.
Was better by the time food showed up.
“You can heal that quickly?” You asked, amazed. You gently pulled back the collar of your pajama shirt, looking at your perfectly normal looking skin. Not even a scar where you were stabbed.
Was small wound. Easy.
“Oh listen to you. ‘It was just a stab wound. No big deal.’ Do you have any idea how long it takes for people to heal normally? Once I stepped on a nail and my foot was messed up for like a month.” You laughed, not enjoying the memory of basically needing to hop everywhere in the house.
That long?
“Yeah, like, I don’t know how these heroes do it. They get stabbed or shot, then the next day they are back at it. I mean, I get that a lot of them have armor or advanced healing, but I am surprised more of them aren’t out of commission every time villains show up, you know?” You shook your head.
Don't need to worry for us any more. No out of commission. Just small rests and will be fine.
“And there you go, being more amazing.” You smiled and motioned to the window. “But anyway, now that we are better, should we go out and meet you friend?”
Yes, my… friend.
“Way to make them sound ominous, dude.” You commented. “But yeah, let’s go. We need to get that bit of you back.” You stepped towards the window, and felt Venom’s tendrils swirl around and embrace you completely. It was starting to feel like a full body hug more than anything at this point, and you resisted the urge to try and hug them back.
Instead you climbed out of the window with more grace than the first time you tried, watched as your limbs vanished from your sight, and again, leaped into the air. You let out your webs and swung, smiling happily as you felt truly free traveling across the city.
“So... your friend.” You started, looking towards the direction you had a vague feeling in. “You didn’t really tell me about them. I assume they are a villain, you sure they are going to help us?”
… Hopefully.
“Oh that’s a good sign.” You said with playful sarcasm. “That’s alright, I trust your decisions. Whatever you need me to, I’ll try my best for you.” You said, and you thought you felt confusion in the back of your mind. The two of you swung quietly through the buildings, enjoying the rushing air, the sounds of the city, the gradual increase of traffic as most people started leaving their jobs. You had no idea where you were heading, yet you could just feel a pulling in a direction. You hoped that was Venom’s “friend,” even if you were a little concerned about meeting a friend that needed quotation marks.
You wondered if they were a regular supervillain, or an alien too? What if they were just a regular person Venom genuinely liked as a friend? You found that thought hilarious. They were probably some little girl in a tutu, and she had a pet dinosaur. You laughed out loud, thinking of hypotheticals.
Your laughter was cut short when you saw someone else swinging past the buildings and catch your eye. You changed course and sped up, just in time to make out Spiderman casually swinging down another street. Your anger immediately boiled your blood, and you couldn’t wait to give him what he deserves.
Mustn’t kill Spiderman!
“I would never kill him! Doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a punch to the face for what he done to you!” You smiled, pulling on your webs with a new goal and launching yourself feet first at the moving red and blue target. “Or maybe a kick would do!” You shouted, adrenaline flooding your system.
“Did I just hear someone-” Spiderman mid-swing turned to face your direction, just in time for your camouflaged foot to connect to his jaw. The kick sent him flying down, crash landing in someone’s rooftop garden. You laughed and quickly corrected your course, sending a web to nab the corner of a taller building so you could grab ahold of the bricks. You felt the camouflage drop as you looked down at Spiderman, who was slowly picking himself out of the dirt, seeming very confused.
“That’s for breaking my friend’s fucking heart!” You yelled down at him, unable to help the absolute satisfaction from kicking the jerk in the face. He shook his head, scattering dirt to the ground, and looked up to see who shouted. Apparently he wasn’t expecting Venom, as he jumped ever so slightly, hands widening at his sides.
“I’m guessing that isn’t Flash, but that didn’t sound like the new guy either!” Spiderman called up. You could see him nervously looking side to side, probably assessing damage control. He looked back to you, seeing you still posed and ready at the corner of the tower, and he was apparently somewhat confused at the fact you weren’t attacking him more. “Did… did you want something? Or was this… it?” He made sure to keep his voice loud enough to make it to you.
“Are you in a rush for something? Burning building? Girlfriend in trouble?” You asked, just wanting to make sure you weren’t endangering more people with getting some petty revenge.
“Not… not that I know of.” Spiderman held up his hands, even more visibly confused now.
“Good.” You shouted, jumping from the corner and landing heavily on the flowerbed a few yards from Spiderman. “Didn’t want to waste your time.” You laughed and looked down at him. He… seemed taller on tv. He half readied his arms now that you decided to get close, but you could tell he was too busy trying to calculate what exactly to do. Did no villains hold a casual conversation before a fight?
“Wasting time… on what, might I ask?” The whites of his eyes squinted in a way that suggested a raised eyebrow. You flexed your fingers, getting ready to act, and you became very much aware at the lack of influence your actions had. Venom was quiet in the back of your mind, waiting.
“Oh you know, justice for a friend, kicking your ass, that sort of thing.” You casually said, but before you gave him enough time to react, you reached out and webbed a metal table from the roof, swinging it at him. He easily jumped and flipped over it, landing on some fencing gracefully. His arms reached out, and you instinctivly ducked and turned, just nearly doging two streaks of webs flying past.
“Listen! I don’t know who your friend is, but that suit of yours is alive!” He said, jumping and firing more webs at your feet, but you sidestepped and pulled the table back in time to take two of the shots. “You need to get it off of you!”
“And what, try to abandon it like you did?” You kicked the back of the table, launching it in his direction. He barely ducked out of the way, making the metal table burry itself halfway into the brick wall behind him. Damn, you kicked that hard. But maybe that was because you were getting angrier the more you talked to Spiderman. “You didn’t even give it a chance to explain itself!” You half growled through teeth, webbing a bag of fertilizer and acting like a trebuchet, launching it at him.
“Whoa!” He jumped to the side, turning his head to watch as the bag literally exploded into dust against the bricks, the residue falling to the streets below. “Not good.” You heard him mutter. He jumped off of the building, web flying to another building, and he started to quickly swing away.
“Hey! I didn’t kick your ass yet! Get back here!” You shouted, quickly following behind. The two of you weaved between buildings, Spiderman taking the lead and turning corners every chance he got, and you just barely noticed him checking over his shoulder as he did so.
He is leading us to Bad Place.
“Fuck you Spiderman! You hurt my friend, and now you are manipulating us again!?” You shouted, taking an extra second to calculate where to web, and taking the shot. The web barely latched onto Spiderman’s foot, but it was enough, and you pulled. He yelped as he lost grip on his own web, swinging to your will as you yanked it.
Glass shattered as you swung him into some business building, and you could hear shouts of people. Whoops. Oh well, corporations were paid too much anyway. You jumped down and webbed a window, gracefully arching and swinging into the broken opening, apparently perfectly in time to kick Spiderman as he was picking himself up again. He was punted back, crashing into a support pillar. Damn! You had some serious firepower out of nowhere!
You felt good. Real good.
There were a few people in this what appeared to be an office space, but they were quickly running to the exists, no one seemed to be hurt from you hurling a body through a window. Good. Spiderman struggled to pull himself out of the plaster of the support pillar, crumpling to the ground and coughing.
“Hm. I didn’t go overboard, did I?” You asked, glancing around at the destruction of the small area momentarily. You noticed a few computers on a desk nearby that must have belonged to security, due to the fact that cameras of different views were cycling through the screens. You were about to look away, interest being sated, when one of the screens turned to the room you were currently in, and you felt taken back. Why the fuck did you seem… so much bigger?
Before you could question that in more detail, your vision went white as web sprayed your face, and you recoiled. “I hope you liked those few shots, because that’s all I’m giving you!” Spiderman shouted, and you felt something heavy collide with you. Whatever it was broke as it hit you, but still made you stumble backwards, and your back hit the desk and knocked over some of the monitors.
You quickly pulled the web off of your face, anger building. “Not even close! You need one more solid smack to the face before I’m through with you!” You shouted, grabbing the desk with your hands to throw at him, but his webs sprayed out, sticking your hands to the desk. You gritted your teeth, using its weight to your advantage and tried to just crush him with it instead. He ducked between your legs as the desk shattered against the ground, and more webbing shot onto your hands. You realized your mistake a moment too late, when he pulled and you fell forward, flipping hard onto your back on top of the wreckage.
“Could you really smack a face like this?” He asked, hovering his masked face above yours. You growled and tried to grab him, but his webs were faster, covering your face and hands and making you lose him in the moment. You yelled and felt your fists expand, bursting through the webbing as you tore it from your face, and you jumped to your feet.
“With what you’ve done? Easily!” You swiped at him, but he seemed too lithe to get near as he flipped and ducked out of your attacks. “You hurt my friend!” Swipe. “You lied to them!” Miss. “You manipulated them!” Duck. “And when they were happy, you couldn’t leave them alone!”
Spiderman jumped onto the ceiling, and paused. “Wait, this might be a stretch here, but is you friend the symbiote?” You took advantage of the still target, grabbing his leg before he could react. You held him in front of you and he quickly struggled in your crushing grip.
“ Yes. ” You hissed between your teeth, smacking him hard with the back of your other hand, sending him crashing through another window.
You watched him fall out of view, only for him to appear a few seconds later, quickly webbing away down the streets. You didn’t give chase though, and instead took a moment to breath while surrounded by all of the destruction. It was then, that you could feel how tight Venom felt. They felt less like a second skin, and more of a too small wetsuit. It hurt, just slightly, and made you stagger and lean against part of a broken desk.
“H...hey. Is everything okay?” You asked, feeling the drowning sensation even more now. You started to feel the edges of fear, but not so much for yourself, but for your other. Did something happen with it? Was this too much for it?
Everything is better than okay. We’ve had hosts that were angry with Spiderman before, and that anger made us stronger, but this is different.
“How so?” You asked, instinctively trying to swallow the drowning sensation away to no avail. It was warm, too warm.
We never had someone angry for us before.
The tightness seeped into your skin, and you had troubles determining where exactly you were suppose end and Venom begin. “A… And? What does… what does that mean?” You felt short of breath, your vision shaking ever so slightly as your world rang louder and louder, drowning out everything. The sound of your heavy breathing, the sound of the desk collapsing under your weight, the sound of you hitting the ground, all being drown out by the ringing.
And the ringing stopped.
The bond we have will last a lifetime.
#Venom#Venom x reader#venom fanfic#reader insert#spiderman#i lost my fucking tablet pen#i cant find it anywhere aaaaaaaa#so im distracting myself by writing#it helps me emotionally lmao#venom o us
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March 1st
I dreamt I was a girl , perhaps 15-20 , running from the authorities in a dilapidated, overgrown part of a city, otherwise abandoned. The old metal buildings were falling apart as plants grew through them, grass where once there was pavement. As I kept running forward, the shape of the city became more obvious, a giant wedge of a circle, with walls on either side as I came to the central point. It was within a massive self sustaining domed complex, with its own atmosphere, plant life, food, water, etc, split into 13 wedges each a different city which only occasionally interacted with eachother. I was escaping from the authorities of my city for some thought crime. Towards the end of the road, their were stairs leading up to a raised section (concrete and metal, also overgrown with grass) and here I was cornered.
At one point, on of the people chasing me , a man of indeterminate age although younger than 40, saw me, and despite having the opportunity to catch me, let me go.
The authorities surrounded me , and soon my parents and other members of the community showed up. They begged for me to receive forgiveness, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. However, rather than execute me, they decided to exile me, perhaps to avoid the controversy that would result from publicly executing member of the community. As the world outside was a wasteland, it was scene essentially the same way, but I took the offer of exile , and the door at the end of the raised platform, at the point of the wedge, was opened, and I was placed in a chute given only meagre provisions, and then pushed through, before blacking out due to the speed at which the chute pushed me through. When I came too I was lying on the ground outside, in the wasteland that was the rest of the world.
I was laying in a shallow swamp (no more than a couple of cm deep) of brightly colored, thick oily red petroleum like substance, with an unnatural perfumey smell , but also like epazote. In it there were strange red plants , which looked like the bottom of drained lake bed, lying on the ground, but also didn't resemble any real life plant exactly. As I looked around I saw I was surrounded by mountains, rocks and strange land forms seperated by large flat stretches. Everything was painted bizarre hues, bright red, yellow, or.sometimes blue green. There were no trees I could see anywhere, but there were some small plants, some bizarre like the swamp weeds, others more like normal plants. The air was different, and tasted weird. It was difficult to breathe and when I stood up, I fell almost immediately , right back into the red swamp muck.
However while falling, a 2 way radio fell out of my pouch, which I hadn't seen placed there before. I pressed the button and voice came out . it gave me advice on how to breathe properly in the wasteland, and told me that the strange state of this world was due to the destruction our predecessors had done to the environment. He told me I had two choices, to go west to the sea, or east to a "forest of sorts". I decided to go west, because I had never seen an ocean before. As I walked west I past several small lakes, each time asking the voice on the radio if those were the sea.
Eventually I reached a long straight roadlike stretch of dirt , lined on one side by a rather large, oddly colored lake, and on the other by tall shrubs that almost resembled trees. As I walked on this road, which seemed to stretch out forever, I surprisingly encountered another girl, perhaps my age or older, but who seemed to act younger. She was in a small, hobbled together looking carriage, being propelled by a large, but very slender flightless bird like creature, with brighr red and pink iridescent feathers. Its head was unusual looking in that it wasn't clear where the eyes were. Her carriage, which really looked more like a wooden box on wheels, had gotten stuck in the road, with one of the wheels broken. I helped her fix it, and she offered to travel with me since we she wanted to go to the sea as well. She was really cute and friendly.
Shortly thereafter we were joined by the person behind on the voice on the radio, the same man that had been part of the authorities that let me escape before. He explained that he had actually been originally a citizen of a different wedge city, one that had an old abanadoned section of it where they used to collect resources from the outside world via many small portals. Falling through one of those portals into the outside as a child, he eventually was able to make it back to the wedge city as an adult, and snuck in (as those who entered the wastland were supposed to be forbidden from ever returning to any of the wedge cities)only to find that his old wedge city completely abandoned, its inhabitants having died or left to other wedge cities while he was gone. Because no one knew about him, he was able to emigrate to another wedge city, where he was eventually loaned as a security officer to my city, as part of an exchange program. He mostly became a security officer to get inside information on the cities' workings, as he believed there was something very disturbing going on.
But he didn't think I had done anything wrong, and couldn't stand to let me die or even suffer as much as he once did when he was stuck in the wasteland, so he decided to leave as well so as to protect me. Kinda dreamy, ngl, especially for a fake cop.
All three of us set out, each having our own strange bird thing to ride on, the other girl having gotten them for us, into the sunset, towards the sea.
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6 Panel Journey: Experimentation
In these next three experimental pictures, I used the first three of my six panels, took the narrative prompt word and atempted to use colour and masking to create a quick “Idea” of what I can do to effect the emotion of an image.
Here is the first of my experiments. Earlier on the visual thinking panels, we played with the idea of painting colours based on an emotion. One of these was home. My first panel is also home, so I took the opportunity to apply my colour idea of home to the image. I spent a while separating each part of this image through quick masks. I was able to seperate the house, trees and sky this way. I then applied adjustment layers and some very subtle gaussian blurs to the trees. This way the focus was on the house. Because in the visual thinking I painted a sun as part of the “home” idea, I also added a deep orange sun here which gave a very warm feeling. I like how the image feels although it almost gives a feeling of being on mars; which is very far away from human homes. Although this is visual representation of the feeling of home, I still think thesun is almost too warm and not soft enough. Having said that, I do find its sepia tone to give an almost nostalic feel to the image.
Here is the “Calm” image. I experimented here by separating the river from the scene and really pushing the blues in the water to give the calming feeling blue colour gives; this being based on my reasearch into the psychology of colour as part of our principles of colour and composition. The rest of the image I had as a low saturation green as to try and pull more attention the the blueness of the lake. This image was taken with the rule of thirds in mind, the bench is in the bottom left of the intrest points and the river is along the top right of the interest points, giving a diagonal contrast between them. Something I find I could do better is the lighting on the river, it is shiny and there is a yellow reflection that makes it appear almost oily.
This is my image of “im-balance”. my idea here, was to separate the leaves in the fourground and the “under renovation building” in the background. I did this using a mask to really contrast the colours of the two; the leaves being a more vivid green and the building into a brickly red. I felt there was not only a contrast showing the in-balance here; the range of colours and chaos of the image also lends to this. The overgrown building and the range of leaf colours. The building is obviously the focal point but the fact its so coverd by trees and leaves, It woul’ve been interesting to have actually been able to add something into this scene so the focal part of the image wasnt only just a run down building. The next images was an experiment to integrate things into a scene. This was because in the final outcome, we need to have a realistic integration into the composition.
My final outcome idea includes a giant octopus in the sky as part of the “conflict” and so with this image which is to represent “tension” I felt I could depic this by kind of teasing that idea. When taking this picture I had in mind the tree branches that give the observer the idea they’re looking at something through bushes. This lends to the idea of tension. Tension is also the reason this image is very red. The colour is a light pinkish red which based on my colour research I had found can provide a anxious feeling to certian images. The tentacle was a difficult thing. I had to separate the branches from the background so the tentacle appeared to be in the sky behind them. Also being far away and in clouds, I had to soften the tentacle, gradually making it more soft the higher up which added a sense of height to it. This was done mainly with a gausian blur. I actually discovered through this that if you duplicate the bottom section and offset it ever so slightly, there is this blurry effect unlike a blur that gave the tentacle a much more grounded feel. I still see the bottom half as being slightly jarring though; as it was an experiment I didn have a chance to push the trees to the front of the tentacle so it doesnt appear as far awau as it could.
I took a much more subtle approach with this image. The idea behind this one is “resolution” and when I think of resolution I imagine “light breaking through darkness” as a theme behind that. This is why I liked this picture of the cathedral hallway. This was actually one of the only pictures I took with the idea of the golden ration behind it; although not perfectly done I must admit. I very faintly adjusted the light in the hallway by masking the light and contrasting it slightly. This brought an almost serene light to this image that lended to the cathedrals “heavenly” vibe. This is why I decided to add a cherub at the focal point at the end of the hallway. Due to the exposure and saturation of the hallway however I had to over expose a lot of the cherub and this makes it an almost unrecognisable focus point unless you really try to look at what it is. I actually went in with the paint brush tool to add highlights and expose the cherub more due to the flooding of light in the hallway leaving me with little other option.
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Ceramic Coating Process
Installing Gtechniq Crystal Serum Light and EXOv4 on a Ferrari California Turbo
THE WASH
We use the 2 bucket method while washing a vehicle in preparation for ceramic. One bucket to rinse, one to wash. This keeps the wash mitt cleaner and prevents additional scratching of the clear coat. Each bucket also has a Grit Guard in the bottom that keeps floating dirt towards the bottom of the buckets. A powerful soap is used to thoroughly clean the surface and heavily degrade any existing wax or road film. A seperate bucket is also used for a thorough wash of wheels and tires
DRYING
With special care, a specific drying towel is used to gently dry the vehicle. It’s important to use a high quality towel so that scratches aren’t introduced during this process.
IRON REMOVER
The second most expensive chemical in the process is used to aid in decontaminating the clear coat. It removes any metallic fallout embedded in the paint which can occur from daily/heavy braking or during delivery via train of new vehicles.
CLAY BAR
A small piece of clay is glided along the entire surface of the vehicle while using a clay lubricant. Clay bar removes embedded dirt that is sometimes invisible to the naked eye but can rob the clear coat of it’s gloss. It’s a critical step in the ceramic process to prepare for machine polishing, otherwise the dirt particles would be grinded into the paint and cause damage.
POLISH
Machine polishing is arguably the most important part of the ceramic coating process. Professional level machines such as a rotary and dual-action (8mm, 15mm, 21mm) are used in one-step and two-step polishing cycles to correct the paint and remove imperfections such as scratches, water spots, oxidization, etc. Different combinations of pads, polishes, and compounds yields the most dramatic results, creating a high shine and deep gloss to a vehicle’s paint.
PREP-WIPE
Polishes are oily in nature which needs to be removed so that the ceramic bonds directly to the paint. A specifically designed chemical and mutiple towels are used to remove polishing oils before ceramic is applied.
GTECHNIQ CRYSTAL SERUM LIGHT
CSL is packaged in a small bottle with a dropper applicator. It’s applied to the paint in small sections and removed meticulously in order to avoid high-spots.
GTECHNIQ EXOv4
After CSL is finished, EXOv4 which is a paint coating designed to adhere to CSL and create even more depth, protection, and gloss. The combination of CSL and EXOv4 is the ultimate protection for your vehicle.
FINALE
The entire process for a vehicle this size takes approximately 10-13hrs plus overnight curing. The end result is an intense, glossy, and slick vehicle which if maintained properly is estimated to last 3-5yrs. Proper maintenance products and processes can be found in a seperate article or by searching the Internet.
For questions about ceramic coatings text/call Eric
Photo credits except for the final shot belong to the talented Homiak Photography
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Overgrown Metal
Chapter 3: Keep Moving
Summary of fic: Almost two decades ago, the fae rose up from beyond the value with technology far surpassing the human race, quickly taking over after lating waste to nearly everything in their wake. Virgil and Roman, Society escapees and hunters run into an uncertain future while fleeing from their pasts. Remy and Remus stare their only chance straight in the face as they teeter on the edge of reluctant adventure. Emile is left his cousins engineering palace and is given the tools to change the world. Logan, a lone researcher and outcast is found by an old friend who offers him a chance of the century. Hyden (deciet), can shift into anything he so chooses, but staying true to his form as his heritage slaps him sideways proves harder than he thought. Patton mourns the loss of his son as he slowly uncovers secrets he wishes aren't related.
Or less wordy:
Eight idiots with trust issues fumble around each other and try to save the world from killer mechanical beasts and fairies that will snap your neck without taking their hands from their wine glasses.
Warnings: Violence, fight scenes, dark fantasy, apocalypse setting, some gore, blood
Warnings for this chapter: none. Though as always if you see something that should be tagged please say something.
Ships: Remy (sleep) x Remus. Brotherly Roman and Virgil. Platonic Logan and Hyden (Deciet)
The spacious barn creaked lazily as the sounds of swearing and hammering overflowed its weather worn walls. It had been repurposed years ago, the old owners either long dead or moved out once the forest began to take over. As it was now it had been cleared of the twisting roots and oddly growing branches that had once threatened to consume it completely, now standing in a small clearing with a house beside it sitting just as pristine. The barn, though repaired, leaned slightly to the side, braced on an extension that housed a lab of sorts with one other room branching out that acted as cold storage.
The main room itself was currently where loud banging could be heard with the occasional swear sprinkled in as the owner tried valiantly to seperate pieces of plate metal from the skull of a fallen beast, eyes vacant and jaw slack as it sat on the table surrounded by already disassembled parts of itself scattered about and repurposed to varying degrees. Jars of different colored oily substances sat on a cart nearby, with empty ones still waiting to be filled. The hammer was thrown down suddenly, its owners pointed ears twitching in irritation as he dragged a hand down his face and took a breath. Sighing loudly, Logan turned and stalked off to the other end of the room to get a crow bar off the rack in hopes that his new method would work.
As he began trying to pry between plates he felt more than heard the halting footsteps outside the barn, though who it was was clearly trying his best to be quiet. Rolling his eyes Logan slammed the crowbar in a weak spot and pulled hard enough to bend the plate and send the bar snapping back to narrowly miss his face. He scowled as sweat dripped into his eyes, rolling his shoulders and gripping the tool with a white knuckled grip.
"It truly is a wonder you haven't killed yourself yet. To think of all that education going to waste with a cracked skull in an old barn, it's almost enough to make me care to check in more."
"The only reason you come in here is because I'm the only thing within a hundred mile radius who doesn't wish you dead on sight."
"How you wound me. It's at least two hundred when I'm far enough away from the coast." Logan smirked as he heard the irritated tap of the others cane punctuating his statement.
Sighing, he placed the crowbar on the bench and turned to face the intruder, leaning against it while crossing his arms. "Hyden."
"Logan." The other greeted mutually. Though he was typically a bit more put together his thick caplet lay crookedly across his tense shoulders, arms taunt as he leaned heavily on his cane with both hands resting on the top. His long hair curled in the afternoon humidy and Logan definitely didn't miss the slight furrow of his brows, though he knew he would be loathe to admit he was in any sort of pain.
Letting out a heavier sigh Logan pushed away from the bench and gestured for the other to follow him. "Join me, I need a break anyway."
Hyden gasped. "The head scientist admitting he needs a break? Who's hand do I need to shake for downloading an once of self preservation into that thick skull?"
"I'll have you know I take breaks on a regular basis, something you clearly need to be reminded of."
"The audacity! I walk all the way here to visit a long time friend-"
"You walked?" Logan shot him a sharp glance as he held the door, gesturing the other into the old farmhouse.
Waving away the concern, Hyden continued. "I flew most of the way don't worry. I only ducked below the treeline the last few miles so I wouldn't be followed, you're welcome for the concern and forethought."
Snorting, Logan pulled out a chair and moved to collect containers of herbs and thr kettle, sighing for the fourth time as it was blatantly ignored for the refrigerator. As the kettle heated he carefully measured out the proper ingrediants, glancing over every now and again to try and catch what his guest was poking at.
"Are those by any chance agorose gels?"
Walking past the fridge to put things away he caught sight of what the other was observing, humming his confirmation.
"Logan, why do you have DNA gels next to leftover chicken salad in your refrigerator?"
"The chicken salad seems irrelevant." The kettle whistled to give him an excuse to avoid the question, carefully pouring out the boiling water.
"Logan."
"Hyden." The name slipped out easily despite his annoyance, making him wonder for a brief moment if he would struggle when he was finally told his real name.
The mans cane taps were heavier than normal as he made his way over to the table and flopped down without his usual show. Giving Loagn a quiet thank you he proceeded to wrap his hands around the steaming mug, frowning in concentration. "Are you trying to find them again?"
"I fail to comprehend what you could possibly-"
"Because they're trying to find you. And they're getting close."
Logan was quiet as he sat, his wrapped hands folding somewhat painfully around his own drink. Pursing his lips he avoided looking at Hyden for a long moment, nevertheless feeling his gaze attempting to pick him apart. Arranging his expression to be carefully neutral he took a drink, smiling as the other did so as well.
"Make sure to drink all of it, it'll help with pain."
"Did you even listen to what I said?!" Throwing his hands up in exasperation he fixed Logan with his best glare.
"Hard not to with that grating tone."
"Well this grating tone," he growled out. "Is telling you to get your head out of your ass and maybe make sure you're safe before telling someone else to take care of themselves."
Logan dragged a hand down his face, suddenly tired. "Where exactly do you expect me to go? I'm so close to figuring out what they're using to power those things, if I move now I won't have any access to the equipment I need, no studies will be concluded, and nearly all of my experiments will be left behind to rot! I need more time."
"Time isn't exactly a luxury here. You're being stubborn and ignorant, as usual, and if you would just listen-" he stopped short as he caught the look the other was giving him, letting out a breath of defeat and softening his tone. "It doesn't have to be today. But it does have to be soon. I'll even come with you, help you scout out a new location if you'd like. I'm sure there's plenty to be found with a little digging."
Mugs empty save for the dregs silence rang between them as they lost themselves in thought. Distantly Logan was aware of the old grandfather clock ticking, suddenly thinking what a shame it would be to leave the sound behind. He knew the other was right even before he fully decided to voice it. Instead he quietly looked over at him, the scales that freckled his face gleaming with the last rays of the evening sunlight. If they were truly leaving, they would have to be careful. Though he knew Hyden was loathe to do so he could easily shift his appearance to hide his scales. Logan wouldn't be so lucky, his slightly off colored skin and pointed ears a dead give away to what his heritage was, even if he had defected from it when the war broke out. He was obviously fae, and that would do him no favors outside of the protection of his remote location.
But he really couldn't stay. If the guard was truly zeroing in on his location he would much rather abandon his research and try to pick it up wherever he could than even think about getting caught and wondering whether he could escape before he was undoubtedly punished for his crimes against his people. He shuddered uneasily as he stood, carefully avoiding eye contact as he took the mugs to the sink and began to wash them. He stared out the window towards the treeline as he did, having to squint to make out the weak protective barrier set around the perimeter by Hyden years ago. Beyond that lay dense forest only a madman would dare trek through.
Or fae guards with strict orders.
Squaring his shoulders before they could droop in defeat he turned to face his companion with a level stare.
"Give me two days."
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"Two more days? I thought the town was closer than that." Virgil irritably kicked a stone into the water, splattering the bottom of Roman's pants. They huffed in response, their frustration easily matching Virgil's as they shifted the pack on their shoulders.
"I said at most two more days, it might be sooner than that. We've never really been this far out before, which is a good thing but it means guessing the distance. Pouting isn't going to make it be any closer."
"Not pouting." Virgil pouted, crossing his arms before realizing what he was doing and angrily shoving them in his hoodie pockets.
Snorting with amusement Roman shifted the pack again before grunting and heaving it up and off their shoulder, immediately sagging in relief. Their burden was lifted further as Virgil tugged it out of their grasp and shouldered it easily, walking ahead while adjusting to the weight.
"Thank you."
"You were slowing us down. Somebody's gotta make sure we stay on schedule."
Roman squawked with indignation, jogging a bit to catch up with the emos longer gait. Their mouth thinned as they thought of how to bring up a concern they'd been thinking about for a while, gripping the straps of their pack tightly in apprehension.
"Alright. Spill it." They blinked as Virgil stopped, dropping both the packs and plopping down in the dirt.
"What?"
"Being anxious is my job and right now you're forcing me into unemployment. So either talk or I'm throwing you in the river."
"You do and I'm eating the last two cans of spaghettios tonight while you get nothing but croutons."
Virgil narrowed his eyes. "I fucking dare you to go through with that threat. You do not come between a man and the last can of shitty microwave pasta."
"I have the food pack."
"And I have the flint and steel so start talking before I decide to set you on fire instead of drowning you."
Unceremoniously flopping to the ground they let out an annoyed huff while shrugging off the back pack. "Fine. I've been thinking....that with this next town..maaaaybe finding another person or two to travel with would be in our best interests?"
The last half of the thought came out rushed and nearly incomprehensible but Roman could tell Virgil had heard them clearly as his face adopted a carefully neutral expression, hands twisting tightly in his lap.
"Roman..."
"I know! I know, I definitely get it. But, it would be easier to carry supplies and we could have more! We wouldn't have to stop in towns so much-"
"Roman."
"And it might be safer! More people means more weapons means more protection right?"
"Roman."
They shut their mouth in worry at the defeated tone Virgil had adopted. He twisted his hands tighter, hesitant to continue now that he actually could.
"Am I not....do you not feel safe enough with me?"
Roman sucked in a breath as they realized how Virgil had taken their concerns, rushing to try and fix it. "It's definitely not that! I-Virgil I'm so sorry that isn't what I meant at all!"
They leaned forward and began gently detangling his fingers from each other, holding them tightly once they finally managed it. "Anx it isn't like that. I honestly worry that you aren't safe enough with me. And once our load gets heavier with trading supplies we slow down and it never seems like we're on the road long enough before what little supplies we can carry run out. It was only a thought I wanted to discuss, not an attack on your skill as a fighter."
Their eyes met Virgil's and they breathed a sigh of relief when they were met with understanding, nonetheless continuing to rub soothing circles across his knuckles until he pulled away.
"I guess..." he glanced over at the near overflowing pack of trading goods. "I guess I can see that yeah. But I don't-Roman how can we trust anyone?"
"We probably can't. But we'll look anyway and if we don't find anyone then we don't find anyone. Just, keep an open mind?"
Crossing his arms Virgil looked away to stare out at the water instead, face drawn with apprehension. After a minute he ducked his head in defeat, nodding slowly and standing up. "Yeah. We'll keep a look out. But if we do find someone and after a while they start to act shady we drop them alright? No debate."
"No debate." Roman readily agreed as they stood as well. They began walking again, the silence much less tense than it had been all afternoon. Grinning a bit, Roman smacked their lips in thought. "With that delay it might be two and a half days now."
"Oh come on!"
This work and others are available on AO3!
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#roman sanders#virgil sanders#logan sanders#deciet sanders#false writes#overgrown metal#janus sanders#dark fantsy#sanders sides au
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Your skin type is something that you’re born with. It’s determined by the amount of oil secreted by the skin, by the capillery (blook network) activity and the sensitivity of the skin. Because we’re genetically pre-disposed to it we can look to our parents to see what skin type we will have. Skin conditions are caused by external factors ex: the weather or incorrect products used on the skin. - Different skin types include: Normal/Combination – a healthy glow, no open pores or fine lines (although these may develop with the natural ageing process), soft, smooth texture. Dry – visible dryness, tightness, prone to wrinkling, tight pores. Oily – shiny, open pores, blockages, coarser skin texture, oily residue. Acne – shiny, open pores, breakouts from mild to pustular/cysts, oily surface. Sensitive – thinner, more delicate skin texture, prone to reactivity, fairer complexion, redness (hot spots). Rosacea – constant redness, flushing, pustular breakouts around cheeks, nose and chin not related to oil production, skin feels hot and/or flaky. Rosacea is a capillary disorder. - Skin conditions include: Dehydration – lack of water in the skin, possibly flaky, very fine lines, loss of ‘bounce’ to the skin, tight surface, dull complexion, oilness and blockages can still be present. Sensitised – reactivity to certain products/treatments/environmental factors, tendancy to redness, inflammation, reaction to heat and friction. Ageing/Premature – wrinkles, loss of muscle tone, pigmentation, dull, low in oil, course skin texture. Pigmentation – brown or white irregular patches on the skin. Congestion/Breakouts – under surface congestion, comodones (blackheads), milea (whiteheads), possible pustular breakouts, uneven texture. - A skin type and a skin condition need seperate care. - See a Licensed Is Esthetician for proper analysis. (at Westerville, Ohio) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bzh_kxTljXb/?igshid=1bcv35ak3cv24
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A song of happiness
You are the lemon of my silent leg A fog of saphire architecture. A sun of mosaics, Like frightened movie: evening stars. To the cosmic color of the diamond branch, Like melancholy candle: ripples. Nothing but that necklace of breakfasts. You see shoulder as honest as the sunshine. Sunburst orange water to my nauesous door! A rust colored and callous door is penetrated in the universe. Your phenomena is a utensil filled with hairy droplet. Behind the thicket like sand, Went swam in reflection. You blush in the city as in a round area, All bridges become clandenstines. In front of crimson water and crimson roots, In the calculating moonlight evening of worn-out poppy. Like brutal home: pullulations. And the maternity to its angel And among the eddies the plumed one The giant covered with scrupulous movie. Nothing but your domestic leg. Nothing but your unguessed leg. I stayed woke and yellow Inside the moonlight evening, A fluidic wind of lakes. Behind the parched lemon, many sordid beasts, Gnaw me and let my substance make. A wounded horse day. Among the university like metal. Like sifted writing: atoms. And meetings of dry hand, A fire-tipped eddies day. The delicious heart gave it joy, Prize of a stole skeleton sea water. Brings all the degrades peace. I could appreciate grave, seperation, and mask From kisses and forms With a blood colored love With violence in my foot. Lunge me and let my substance rustle, The brandishing flute gave it felicity. The oily tiger plays against the clear cities. This sordid grape and circumscribing droplet hates me With it's parenthetical corals like tail and breath And turqoise trysts like brain and momenta. Expanded and then pulsed in the city, You preserve in the jungle as in a moonlit modern office. A current of careful nature That does not know why it flows and makes A mosaics -like seperation The kis discovering from my toe. Pullulations of a sobbed decadent evening stars. If you were not the sugar the rosy moon Cooks, sprinkling its lemon across the land. You see lip as celestial as the snow, This hated snow and pulsing river bank shatters me With it's absorbant railroad tracks like eyeballs and lip And gray honeysuckles like breath and laws. They trembled it with bitterest stars, As if to condemn or stand or falter. Like the neurotic graphite of corals
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