#texture on my face. i just was tired of my skin literally peeling off from being dry

[haganez]

since i started taking care of my face and skin more ive been getting random beauty tiktoks and ive never really been into this stuff but seeing women be like look at this normal part of ur face here’s a random 25 dollar product that’s sponsoring me to make it go away maybe. probably not. is very silly

[writefightandflightclub]

First light, last love

Summary: a lazy, fluffy morning in bed with your love, Santiago Garcia.

Author’s note: Very quick blurb in response to an ask- not my best but hope you like it! You can decide whether he means literal breakfast or “breakfast” *wink wink* at the end, depending on how you wanna be woken up.

Warnings: language, it’s Santi.

Word count: short and sweet. 

Tagging: @phoenixhalliwell​ @lostgirlheather​ @justrunamok​ @aellynera​ @damerondjarin​ @blushingwueen​ @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall​ @holybatflapexpert​ @himbopoes​ @arabellathorne​ @yourbucky084​ @mandoplease​ @mylifeliterally​ @arkofblake​ @multifandomlife22​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @aisling-beatha​ @stardust-galaxies​ 

GIF by @twillight

The morning sun is the first caress on your skin, gently easing you awake. Santi’s hands are the second, pulling you from the warm embrace of slumber and into the warm embrace of him.

As you stir, you feel the sturdiness and familiar shape of Santi’s body pressed firmly to your back as he forms a big spoon around you. You absorb the texture of bare skin on skin as his nose nuzzles into the back of your neck, and his hand languidly wanders over your belly and your thighs. His fingertips trace symbols on to your flesh, which only those fluent in the language of love might hope to ever decipher, easing your consciousness into the waking world and to a place where you feel completely safe and content and held; in his arms.

You hum softly to signal to him you’re awake, and a blissed out smile eases over your lips, the joy that comes from waking up next to your love and enjoying this closeness spilling visibly out of you.

“Morning, Princesa,” he breathes, hot air and the deep rumble of his voice fanning over your neck. Santi presses a gentle kiss to your neck, propping himself up onto his elbow to allow his kisses to journey along your jawline, and you turn your head to greet his lips with yours, giggling into the kiss.

Every time you kiss him it feels like arriving home. Each moment with him holding you feels like breaking dawn. Warm, fresh yet familiar, and an inconceivable blessing.

You peel your eyelids open, failing to quell the happy smile which beams out of you as soon as your gaze greets his, those warm, coffee eyes the only wake-up call you need.

You love waking up slow with him like this. No alarms; no place to be, except beside each other.

“Morning, handsome,” you say softly, as his broad hand comes to gently cup your cheek.

Those hands of his. You love them so. Those hands which were trained to be lethal, but which felt like they were made to love you. When they feel so good against you, what other purpose could they possibly have?

Instead of craning your neck, you swivel until you are flat on your back, Santi’s prone body still tesselated neatly into your side. He smiles back at you, his eyes skimming over your face and hair as if he is seeing you afresh with the start of the new day; even though he has looked at you so often, you sometimes question how he could possibly still wonder at the sight of you. Even when you’re like this, still shaking off the dregs of sleep, face and hair still fresh from the pillow, Santi’s eyes are glowing with adoration.

Santi runs his hand over your contours, fingertips guiding his gaze and sweeping languidly over your chest and stomach and legs. The callouses of him rub against the smoothness of your skin as he cups handfuls of your soft parts in his palms as if you are his daily bread. As if he might bring you to his lips to sustain him. After all, how could he live without you?

As you enjoy his touch, light filters intermittently through the curtains, hazy and half-cocked, ocassionally finding its aim on your face or throwing bars of gold daybreak over Santi’s chest, sun glinting off his dog tags. 

“Holy shit, baby,” Santi breathes as he studies you. “Once again you’re even more beautiful to me than yesterday, and less beautiful to me than you will be tomorrow.” Santi’s lips quirk up playfully, as his fingertips continue to wander the planes of you. He’s never lost when he’s touching you. He’s never lost, like he has been so often in dense jungle, tunred around and scared for his life. His fingers always know their path. His lips always know thier route to your lips, even in the dark. And yet, although he knows you so well, he never tires of you.

“Fuck, Santi,” you say, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the light, feeling out your limbs and emerging gradually from the heaviness of sleep. “Just when I think you’ve run out of ways to charm me, you come out with something like that. Before you’ve even had coffee.”

You turn your body towards him and Santi lowers himself back to the pillow. You shuffle until you lie nose to nose with each other, shimmying the blankets down until they rest across your hips and tangling your thighs with the meat of his.

“I fuckin’ hope I never run out of ways to charm you, preciosa,” Santi says in earnest.

A lazy grin inches over his face, and you enjoy the creases which form around his eyes and mouth. Then, muffling his confession, Santi dips his head forward to nuzzle kisses into your neck. “Plus... alright, I confess to raiding the greeting card aisle yesterday while I was waiting for ‘Fish to checkout the beers.”

Your fingers filter into his grizzled curls as a soft chuckle shakes your chest up against him, and you absorb all the textures of him possible as his stubble grazes pleasantly along your collarbone and your breasts, soothed by lazy caresses of his lips and tongue. “That one made me think of you, cariño,” he whispers, his voice entirely earnest again as he tips his chin to look up at you from beneath his lashes and heavy brows with sincere eyes. 

You snicker softly as you nose into his curls, planting a loving kiss to the top of his head and lingering there to inhale the unique scent of him. Wrapping your arms around him more tightly, you tug him into your chest, and Santi hums contentedly, thoroughly dissolving into your embrace as you bring him closer and tangle limbs with him.

You feel so happy you might float to the ceiling, if you weren’t tethered by the blankets and by his embrace.

You both tug in a deep, steadying breath and exhale it together, enjoying nothing but the silence and the presence of each other for a few, extended moments.

“How is it-” Santi eventually begins to wonder idly as your arms encase him “-that I spend most of my time surrounded by a trained squad of killers, but I never feel safer than when you hold me like this?”

“Hmm. You didn’t get that from a Hallmark card, did you?” you tease, deflecting some of the raw emotion in his tone with humour, as it almost feels too overwhelming to handle, sometimes, Santi’s love. “That one was all you, you charmer?”

His words have a happiness blooming right from the core of you, and, you hope, suffusing back into him as you share this moment of loving each other, transmitting love back and forth through every touch and brush of lips and fingers and skin.

It is moments and mornings like this which you love the most. Not the grand gestures of love. Not the greeting card moments or the surprises or the special ocassions. The mundaness of love is everything to you. The simple, small joys with Santi are the ones you treasure the most.

“Yeah,” he jokes. “The rest said: everyone knows not to fuck with you, mi Reina, because they saw you tear Will a new one when he was a dick at our housewarming, and now cartels and drug lords cower in fear. Happy Thanksgiving.”

You laugh, a lilting sound which draws Santi’s eyes back to your lips, and you flop back on to the mattress, your arms raised above you on the pillow. Santi takes the opportunity to roll on top of you, craving even more contact. He boxes you in securely with his arms, and nudges your knees apart so he can lie in between your legs, hips pressing up against you. The weight of him against you, the feel of the solid mass of him on top of you is such a comfort, grounding you entirely when only moments ago you were lost to your dreams; still, moments like this with your love seem beyond your wildest dreams.

The chain of Santi’s dog tags jangle and pool on to your chest as he settles over you, the cool metal a pleasing contrast against your warm skin and the body heat emanating off of him. You regard them warily, ever since that time they chipped your tooth during a particularly vigorous embrace, but you have grown to love the familiar extension of him, and the reminder that although he is lethal, he is nothing but soft for you.

You follow the bobbles of the chain up and over his smooth chest, corded neck. To his face. God, he’s handsome. All over and at all times, but especially in the mornings like this, when he’s in nothing but his boxers and his watch and that chain. When his skin is bare and warm against you except for these shocks of cool metal. When he is still slightly grogged and unguarded, fresh from sleep. You love seeing his mussed mop of curls and the overnight sprouting of his stubble. Love having him all to yourself.

Santi swoops his soft lips down to kiss you again, and as he pulls back up you admire the happy glow in his heavy-lidded eyes. Admire the flexed muscles in his shoulders as he holds himself above you, and the soft curve of his belly pressing against yours. You drink him in, and you know he’s doing the same with you. 

While enjoying this moment, the like of which seems so rare these days, it suddenly strikes you how long you have gone uninterrupted.

“Santi, the house is quiet. What did you do to the boys?”

Santi grins down at you like the handsome devil he is and greedily kisses almost every inch of your face, bit by bit. “Sent the boys off to lake. Wanted you all to myself today.”

You smile broadly and gratefully at your thoughtful, adoring man. You were really enjoying the week out at the lake with the squad, but the boys could be a lot, and you did agree; you wanted Santi all to yourself for a little bit too. Ok, a lot.

“Thought we could have a lazy morning then take a picnic up to the coast? Found a good place you can do some reading while I lie in your lap and gaze longingly at you?”

You look at him adoringly and Santi takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue languidly along your lower lip, humming into the cave of your mouth as you grant him access and slowly mingle your lips and tongue with his like you have all the time in the world. 

You wind your arms lovingly around his neck, and pucker your lips to plant a delicate kiss to the tip of his strong, perfect nose. “You’re a genius, Santi. In fact, you know what? I love you more than I did yesterday, and less than I will tomorrow.”

Santi doesn’t smile at your words, despite the playful grin on your own face. He simply looks at you in wonderment again.  As if he’s seeing you fresh. Like every moment with you is a breaking dawn. “Fuck, Princesa. Who’s the charmer now?” Santi looks at you as though he’s the luckiest man in the world, and that never fails to floor you.

Yes, these were without doubt your favourite kind of mornings. You treasure these small moments together, where you have all the time in the world to adore each other. And you did; you do. You adore each other more and more every single day.

Sometimes, perhaps, waking is a sweeter dream than slumber, when your love makes every moment like a new day. Makes each feeling cheesy enough to write in a greeting card.

You smile conspiratorially, fluttering your eyelashes at Santi. Pushing your luck, even though you’re already the luckiest woman in the world. “Have I charmed you enough for you to make breakfast, my love?”

“Breakfast, mi Reina?” Santi purrs, pumping his eyebrows. “You just lie back and I’ll take care of breakfast. I’ll take care of you, ‘cause, fuck, do I love you too.”

Yes, this is it. This is definitely what dreams are made of.

[darlinvandijk]

Wish

Concept: there’s literally no concept for this, I’m just a bit sad, so I wanted to write a little blurb, because sometimes my dream world is better than my real world. Sorry for my absence lately. I hope you enjoy

I stare up at the ceiling of the bedroom on the tour bus, the only lighting in the room being that of the moon shining high outside in the sky, filtering in through the crack between the two small curtains we had set up. It’s nearing 11 pm, but Ruel had a late night rehearsal just to make sure everything would run smoothly for his concert tomorrow, and I decided to stay on the bus so that they could get what they needed done rather than having to constantly drag Ruel away from me and back to the stage every five minutes.

I raise my hand in the air, letting my fingers move through the stream of light, watching as the shadows dance across the room almost as if they have minds of their own. I feel the bus shake as the wind outside rushes around in hard random gusts, being so strong I can hear the howling of it every few seconds, smiling as the noise almost brings me a sense of peace. I lay flat, just listening to the sounds of the wind, my body warm and comfortable in Ruels sweatshirt, when the sound of hushed voices and footsteps distracts my train of thought. I instantly sit up staring straight at the door, knowing any second now Ruel would enter, tired and clingy from the stress of today’s events.

“Hi bubba” I whisper, smiling as he enters, closing the door softly and instantly coming over to me with fatigue lining his steps. He sets his phone on the nightstand, kicks his shoes off into a random corner of the room, and nudges me backwards so he can crawl on top of me, resting his face against my chest with a sigh. I run my fingers through his soft hair, feeling him leave a small kiss to my chest, before letting out an annoyed breath. “What’s wrong? Something happen during rehearsal?” I softly question, still playing with his hair as he lets out a frustrated groan, his body tensing up as he thinks about the rehearsal that just took place.

“Tomorrow’s show is going to be absolute shit” he grumbles, shoving his face against my chest, gripping my sides as his body stays stiff with tension. I stay silent and twirl the hair at the nape of his neck, waiting for him to continue so that he can elaborate on what’s bothering him, knowing if I say something he’ll get sidetracked. He lifts his head and rests his chin in the middle of my chest, his hair falling down and covering his eyes, my hands instantly pulling it back and putting it into a little bun with my scrunchie so that I can see his face clearly. “Do you think I’m good at this music thing? Like do you think I know what I’m doing?” He questions, insecurities floating through his mind, and shining through his eyes as they fill with an uncertain look. My eyes widen in shock upon hearing his question, not able to comprehend that he’d question his talents, knowing with my whole heart there’s no one else in this world that’s meant for this life more than him.

“Not only do I think you’re absolutely amazing at what you do, but I know you’re meant for it. You were born for this bub, there’s no better match when it comes to taking on the music industry than you. You might not know what you’re doing at all times, but no one does, that’s a part of learning and seeing what works and doesn’t work” I reason with him, the sigh that escapes his lips causing my heart to break just a little bit, knowing tonight was just one of those nights where I won’t be able to fix his problems and make them go away like I’d wish. I press my palm against his cheek, letting my thumb rub across it as he leans into my hand, craving a connection to make him feel like him again. “You’re doing the best that you can and I’m proud of you. I’m always proud of you. What’s making you think differently today?” I quietly ask him, my heart finally shattering as he looks away from my eyes, the moonlight shining into the small room illuminating the unshed tears that fill his eyes.

“I-I don’t know. Everyone just had something they didn’t like or to complain about today. I was doing too much or I wasn’t doing enough, but I’m trying my hardest... but maybe my hardest just isn’t enough.” He chokes out, a quiet sob breaking through his body, tears softly falling down his face as he lets his wall down. I let him clutch on to me as he cries, his tears falling on to my shirt soaking it in the process, and his face turning pink as it heats up. “I just want to be good enough. I w-wish I was good enough” he barely gets out, his feelings crashing through him, everything he’s kept inside for so long finally breaking surface. I wipe the never ending stream of tears away with my hands, caressing his face in hopes of brining his comfort, before shifting so I could sit up with him facing me.

“You’re good enough Ruel, you’re more than enough. Everyone is just stressed from constantly being on the road, but don’t let their words get to you, because you’re doing more than they could imagine” I quietly mumble to him, holding his face in my hands as he gazes at me with a broken look, his heart yearning for acceptance and appreciation. I pull him into my arms, holding him in a tight embrace as he hiccups and sobs against me, my eyes watering at the cries he lets out. He shakes in my arms as I rock us side to side, occasionally pressing a kiss here and there to his head, whispering sweet praises into his ear as he lets everything out.

“I just want to make everyone happy, but it feels like no ones ever happy with what I do. I’m either too energetic or I’m too boring, I’m too loud or I’m too quiet, I’m too this or I’m too that. Why can’t I just be me and have that be enough” he whispers, his voice cracking as he speaks, looking up at me with pleading eyes, wanting nothing but a way to make his heart stop hurting. I watch him with sad eyes, not knowing how to make things better, because there are just some things that are out of my reach, though I so desperately wish I could change the way things are. “I get compared every day to all of these other people, but I can never just be Ruel. There’s always something more to it. I can’t even grow my hair the way I want it without people complaining or wear what I want without getting side remarks, why can’t people just accept me for me. I’m tired of trying to make everyone happy when I’m not happy anymore” he admits, resting his head against my neck as I hold him, finally realizing that this is a lot more than just stress from the team today, but rather built up stress from all the things this lifestyle and career brings with it.

I pull him up and rest him against the headboard as an idea makes its way to the front of my brain, before making my way to my duffle bag on the floor, grabbing all the supplies I need and making my way over to him. He watches me with curious eyes as I turn on the light in the room, sniffles leaving him every now and then as he sits silently, his eyes looking over all the things I have set out in front of us on the bed. I grab his phone and unlock it, putting on his playlist that always makes him feel better, and grabbing my two headbands that I packed in case of events like this. I pull myself on to his lap, his hands instantly going to my hips as he holds me on place, and reach my own hands up to wipe the last of his tears before pressing a kiss to both of his eyelids. I grab the headband and place it over his head, pulling it back up to push the front pieces of his hair back that had fallen out of the bun, and passing him mine so he could put it on me like he always does.

“I know I can’t take the pain away, but I hope I can help ease it” I whisper as he puts my hair up and pushes the headband in place, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his pouted lips, smiling when it coaxes a small smile to rise. I grab a few of the face masks that I have set up before showing him all of them, knowing he likes to choose which one we do, even if he goes off of color rather than what it’s supposed to do. He grabs the pink jelly face mask, only liking it because of the glitter that’s inside of it, and sets it on my lap while moving the other ones to the bedside table. “I just want to tell you that you’re good enough. You’re always good enough, even when you don’t feel like it.” I remind him, using my applicator brush to put an even layer across his skin, smiling as the glitter shines in the light. He watches me silently as I finish applying everything, before he takes the brush from my hand and puts the mask on my face, his eyes concentrated as he spreads it across my skin.

“I love you” he croaks out, his voice deep from crying and exhaustion, and his eyes conveying how much he truly means what he’s saying. I give him a small smile and pucker my lips for a kiss, laughing when he does the same, trying to avoid our sticky skin from touching. “I can’t explain how much I love you, but you’re my best friend, and I’m thankful for you and everything you do for me.” He barely gets out before my eyes water, having already been emotional from seeing him so upset, to being emotional because he’s the best thing to ever happen to me. He lets out a quiet laugh when he notices my watery eyes, rubbing my hips with small strokes from his thumbs, wanting to kiss me but knowing the disaster that would take place because of the masks still drying.

“I love you too. We’re best friends for life, but I’m lucky that my best friend is also the love of my life, since not a lot of people get that” I tell him, both of us just relishing in the presence of one another, knowing that we’ve always got each other to lean on when things get rough. I lightly pat on his face, feeling the masks rubbery texture, before slowly peeling it off and waiting for him to peel mine off, laughing at his excited expression. He grabs the discarded face masks and sets them down, picking up my favorite serum and applying it for both of us, smiling when close my eyes as he rubs it into my skin. “I know today was rough, but tomorrow will be better. You’re going to kill it at your show and I’m going to be right there watching you from backstage, because I’m your biggest fan and I always will be. Just like how you’re always my biggest fan” I smile up at him, closing my eyes when he leans down to press a kiss to my lips, laughing when he pushes me back and lays on top of me, pressing kisses across my freshly moisturized skin.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re literally the only thing that keeps me sane” he mumbles, grinning as I look up at him through hazy tired eyes, laughing when I whine as he gets off of the bed. He puts away all of the skin products, throwing away the used face masks, and turning off the lights before coming back to me. He gets settled on the bed, taking our headbands off and tossing them on to the night stand, before pressing his back against my chest, and humming in content as I wrap myself around him, caging him away from the stresses of the world. We lay in silence for a little bit, having switched the playlist to his ‘sleepy time’ one, his calm breathing ghosting over my arms that rest around his shoulders and neck. “I’m sorry about my breakdown today, I guess things just finally caught up to me and it hurts. It hurts to feel like people don’t want the real you, but rather the person they’ve made you to be in their head. I’m a real person with real feelings, but I think a lot of them see me as a manufactured person here for their entertainment.” He tells me, feeling more at ease to open up about the thoughts clouding his mind. I hum in agreement at his words, knowing that a lot of people tend to forget that he’s not just some pop star they can fantasize about, but a person who has their good days and their bad days.

“I know Bubba, I know. You just need to keep being you, because you’re enough. If they can’t accept you and what makes you happy, then they don’t truly love you the way they say they do. Just so you know, I love when you grow out your mustache, or grow out your hair, it makes you look extra handsome” I mumble, giggling when he laughs at my words, knowing how much I mean it from the distracted glances and subconscious stares he notices time to time. “You’re perfect the way you are, even if they don’t like it. Whether it be you screaming and dancing around during rehearsal, or silently sitting in a practice room, because you’re just being you.” I remind him, knowing he won’t be able to see himself through my eyes, but hoping one day he can love himself the way I do. He’s the sun in a sea of regular stars, color in a world of nothing but black and white, and a sunflower in a field of roses.

“I’m lucky to have you, thank you my love. Goodnight, I love you” he mumbles, his brain finally slowing down as my words reach his ears, peace settling in to his heart. He barely hears my reply as I mutter back my response, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder as he finally surrenders to the fatigue plaguing his body, slowly easing against me in my arms as he drifts off into a dreamworld where life is easier and happier than what we get here on earth.

I hold him as the music softly floats throughout the room, the quiet rumble of the tour bus driving through the empty streets, hidden beneath the voice of frank ocean. My heart aches and hopes for a better day tomorrow, knowing my beautiful boy deserves nothing but peace and happiness, because there’s not another soul out there that’s as bright as his.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do” I mumble into the dark room, my eyes finally shutting as sleep takes over.

[xhaotixaesthetica]

Day6 Eating You Out

CS2001 Masterportal

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took so long. I got this request like four months ago and I got halfway finished and then my life started getting really shitty and hectic. I tried to make it a little longer in compensation for how long it took. Hope you enjoy!

Starlink Intergalactic Navigator 

You are in: Gaia, the dwarf planet. 

Word Count: 2.2K+

Sungjin

Getting eaten out by Sungjin would be a whole ass experience, I feel like he would be the second-best at giving head, right behind Brian. Sungjin is a whole ass dom, you can fight me on that one, but instead of being the kind of dom that gets off on teasing and torturing his sub *cough*Brian*cough*, he loves overstimulation and pleasing you and taking you way past your pleasure threshold.

Sungjin’s probably only going to give head as a type of foreplay, most likely the D is coming right afterward.

It would most definitely happen if he caught you touching yourself.

It had been a long day with him at practice and you lying around the house feeling incredibly needy for your boyfriend. You weren’t much of a brat so you didn’t send him anything to tease and make him come home and instead decided to go ahead and take care of the problem for yourself.

You were getting a bit loud so you failed to register the sound of the front door opening and closing with Sungjin’s arrival.

Practice had been let out a bit early and he was eager to have his little prince/ss back in his arms again.

It was only once he’d taken his shoes off that the sound of your sweet keening whimpers reached his ears. He could hear your breathy cries for him and his touch interspersed between your wanton moans and the sound only caused him to harden in his sweatpants.

Who was he to deny his baby what they craved?

You jumped slightly upon feeling your boyfriend’s fingers, deliciously rough and textured and calloused for years of playing guitar, gently run up and down your core, touch feather-light.

His eyes were soft but devious as he gave you a sickly sweet smile. “Did you miss me while I was at work, prince/ss?”

You could barely focus, his fingers were fucking you slowly now but you still managed to nod, hips rolling as you fucked yourself on his hand.

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate for me, little one.” he cooed, face between your legs now, smirking at the whine that escaped when his fingers pulled you away.

But before you had time to complain at the empty feeling, his mouth was on your core.

Sungjin didn’t waste time easing you into it, he didn’t want to tease, he wanted to have you overwhelmed, shaking, sobbing, cumming over and over again as you screamed the name of the man you loved.

“Fuck, Sung, slow down,” you cried, hips bucking against his face, your fingers needing to grip his hair to try and expend the electric energy that seemed to flow through your body from the pleasure he gave you, “Too much — please — I can’t.”

“You can take it, baby. Won’t you be a good little one for me?”

Jae

I don’t think Jae’s necessarily a dom or switch, I don’t think he really cares for power play when it comes to sex and he probably likes it pretty vanilla. Really, he kind of strikes me as a lazy lover as well, so you’ll mostly get eaten out if he doesn’t feel like having sex. Doesn’t expect even really think about a blow job in return but he’d probably die if you gave it to him.

“Jaeee,” you whined as soon as you stepped into your bedroom, making Jae groan from his spot on the bed, lying face down and looking like he was ten seconds away from hibernation.

“Baaaabe,” he called back in the same tone.He knew exactly what that voice meant and he did not have the energy right now.

“I wanna fuck.” you stated bluntly, throwing yourself down on the bed next to him, giving what you hoped was a cute pout.

Jae groaned.“I’m tired from practice, though.”

You were never one to harass your significant other for sex after they’ve said no, so you just nodded and got up to head to the bathroom and sort it out yourself until an idea struck Jae.

“Y/N, wait!”

You turned back to look at him, eyebrow raising in curiosity when you saw the cocky smirk on his face.

Didn’t he just say he was too tired for sex?

“I think my body would kill me if I tried to have sex right now, but there’s no reason you can’t sit on my face.”

You wanted to ask him where in the hell this was coming from since you two had never done anything like this before, but at the same time, your insanely hot boyfriend was offering to let you ride his face. Who were you to say no?

Jae’s smirk didn’t leave his face as you lowered your core down to his mouth with your knees on either side of his head.

Even though he was tired, he couldn’t help bringing his hands up to knead your ass, running his hands up the supple skin of your thighs as you moaned when his tongue made contact with the part where you needed him most.

“Jae,” you breathed out in relief as his tongue licked long, lazy strokes up and down your slit. It was almost relaxing, the warm feeling of his mouth on your body caressing you. Despite all his jokes and teasing words, even when Jae was bone-tired, he was more intimate with you than all your past lovers combines.

As your pleasure mounted, you began to want more, not even realizing that you’d started grinding onto his mouth as you chased your high.

But Jae had certainly noticed if the boner in his sweats was anything to go by.

He would most definitely be giving you the fucking you wanted once he woke up.

Young K

Brian is a sadistic daddy dom, I’m sorry but I don’t make the rules. He doesn’t hurt you or anything (he’ll engage in choking and spanking if you let him but that’s for another post), but he will tease you until you cry. The only time Brian will let you cum from his tongue is when he’s jealous or been away for a while. You’ll be begging to stop coming then. But other times, Brian will draw sex out, bringing you to the brink of orgasm in at least three different ways before he fucks you.

You fucked up.

You had good intentions at first, just trying to be a supportive MyDay as you binged Day6 performances on Youtube on your day off. Somehow that turned into binging on videos of your boyfriend specifically, which inevitably made you horny.

It wasn’t your fault he was so hot.

What was your fault was sending a video of you touching yourself to Dowoon instead of Brian. Sure, it was an accident, but it was one that could have been avoided entirely if you’d just decided not to be a brat and wait until he got home.

You’d been planning on getting teased tonight, not overstimulated to the point of sobbing, but you knew exactly what was going to happen once your boyfriend got home.

Brian normally sent you a text once he left work, letting you know he’d be home soon. But there was no text today and his radio silence let you know that Dowoon snitched (even though you’d texted immediately after and said the video wasn’t meant for him.)

Ten minutes ago marked the normal time that Brian would leave JYP and you had about twenty minutes before he would be home.

At least that was what you thought before the door banged open and your boyfriend swaggered in, not looking at you yet as he leisurely peeled off his shoes, hoodie, and shirt in that order.

You were silent, eyes downcast as the anticipation mounted inside you with every step he took.

You lifted your eyes to look at him when you felt him push your thighs apart, kneeling between them and sliding your hips closer to his face before abruptly ripping your underwear.

You couldn’t help but blush under his hungry gaze, whimpering as he slides a long, calloused finger up and down your warmth. “You’re already so wet for me, baby.”

“Only for you, daddy,” you moaned.

“I know,” he said before burying his face in your heat, eating out like you were a meal and he’d been starved for years.

You came six times that night, once for each minute of the video.

Wonpil

Wonpil loves to please you. He will literally get hard as a rock just seeing you feel good, whether he’s being touched or not. While I don’t think that Wonpil is as much of a sub as he seems, and definitely not all the time, I do think he’s a pretty sub leaning switch and likes for you to rough him up just a little. He wants you to take control while he’s eating you out, he wants dirty talk, and he wants to be praised and told how much of a good boy he is. In exchange, he’ll use his mouth to make you feel better than you ever have.

“C’mere, love. I need you, need to feel your pretty mouth on me.” you moaned, looking at him with sultry eyes as you spread your legs to give him a glorious view of his favorite thing.

Wonpil was on his knees in an instant, whining as he kitten-kicks your core, letting out a long moan at your amazing taste.

You watched him through hooded eyes, biting your lips as you decide that his tongue is too good and you’re too needy, so you waste no time in tangling your fingers into his hair and shoving his face into your core.

Wonpil moans at the way you take control, but he doesn’t speed his tongue up, not yet.“Be a good boy for me, baby. Lick me harder and suck my clit,” you hiss.

Wonpil smirks a little as he follows your instructions, lapping up your juices and sucking on your bundle of nerves like it was the sweetest lollipop he’d ever had.

You moaned at the pleasure, back arching as you pushed his face deeper and ground on his tongue like he was your own personal toy. You could see one of his hands trail down to his bulge, rubbing at the hard-on that had formed.

He loved being used and ordered around by you.

“God, baby, your mouth is so good. You make me feel so good love,” you moaned breathily.

Wonpil groaned. In between your legs like this was the best place to be for him.

Dowoon

Dowoon absolutely loves eating you out. He might do it more than you actually have sex. Dowoon lives for all the foreplay and touching before actual sex. To him, it’s the main course and sex is the really explosive desert. He loves your taste and he loves being able to run his hands along your body and know that he’s the one making you feel so good. Eye contact while either one of you is receiving oral is also a big thing for him. Moan his name when you cum, tell him you love him and he’ll be gone.

It was one in a series of days that both you and Dowoon had a day off and you fully planned on taking advantage of it.

You were in nothing but a pair of underwear and one of Dowoon’s oversized t-shirts as you laid haphazardly on the couch, remote in hand, and channel-surfing for something good to watch. 

You were waiting on Dowoon to get out of the shower so you could cuddle, but when you saw your boyfriend emerge from the hallway, half-dressed and hair half-dry with water still dripping from his torso and a predatory look in his eye, you knew that cuddling was the last thing on his mind right now.

“I want to taste you,” he rasped, chuckling darkly at the eager nod you gave.

Dowoon bit his lip, a small smirk threatening to emerge at the way you whimpered when he licked a long stipe up your slit.

“You’re already getting so wet for me, love. Do I make you feel good?” he asked, his adoration for your practically written on his forehead as his dark, sultry eyes bore into your already-frazzled ones.

You nodded, not even aware of how your hands were gripping his hair. “Yes, Dowoon. You feel so good, so good to me,” you babbled as he licked his tongue in your entrance a few times before paying attention to your clit.

The shy boy that was usually your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. The way he licked and sucked at your clit, the way he kissed between your thighs, the way he moved his tongue in and out of you. It was all romantic, deep, sensual, like he was using his mouth to make love to you.

“Tell me you love me,” Dowoon mumbled as you were about to cum, one of his hands coming up to lace their fingers with yours.

“I love you! Fuck, I love you so much,” you moaned, arching into his mouth as your high came down on you. 

Gaia, the dwarf planet 

[blushnote]

literally love!!!!! ur writing!!! omg can i pls request video call sex with mingyu 🥺 when the call connects all he sees on screen is u in /his/ shirt and u slowly take it off to reveal the new lingerie u were gonna keep for when he came back..... then mutual masturbation! (p.s. overuse of “princess” “angel” “baby” petnames is absolutely acceptable)

↳ requested | 2.1k words

↳ mingyu smut

a/n: thank you so much! ngl, when i first read this ask i actually saw the light. this concept is everything… you have brought it to my attention and i love you.

you can’t stop fiddling with the powder blue hem of a t-shirt that mingyu had left behind at your apartment the last time he stayed the night. as you rub the soft fabric between your fingers, you inhale deeply, the fading scent of his cologne still woven into the stitching and nursing the slight anxiety that grovels at the pit of your stomach.

currently, you were connecting a video call with him at the opposite line. under casual circumstances you wouldn’t be this fidgety or nervous. but tonight, the atmosphere was different, the air was thick enough to be sliced with a butter knife and there was this dull, thrumming ache at the apex of your thighs that was like an itch needing to be scratched.

beneath the slippery fabric of mingyu’s t-shirt your frame was adorned with new lingerie, a marveling lace set that was a mild, sunrise shade of pink, embellished with an occasional tiny ribbon to which you felt somewhat like a birthday present waiting to be unwrapped. it was the first time you would reveal it to mingyu, and your heart was hammering.

suddenly, the laptop you had on the mattress as you sat criss-cross before the loading screen made a simple beeping noise. in a mere second, mingyu occupied the space, his smile wide and beaming, his white canines flashing against his rosy mouth. it was evident that he recently showered, the earthen curls of his hair a bit damp and fluffy.

“there you are, my beautiful princess,” he chuckled while pushing the long, brassy bangs from his eyes. “yeah, sorry for the wait, our concert ended later than expected. but– look at you! you’re always so patient with me. fuck, i really miss you so much baby.”

you feel your face flush with warmth. mingyu is sitting at a desk in the hotel room, in some swivel chair that you can hardly see behind his broad frame. you assume he’s already in his pajamas, though his attire is nothing more than a black t-shirt and loose, red shorts that ride a little up his firm thighs. you know you’re staring. it’s painfully obvious.

“y-yeah,” you stutter while snapping from your daze, plucking at the hem of his shirt again in a nervous tick, “i miss you even more. today wasn’t too tiring, was it?”

mingyu sinks back slightly and tucks an arm behind his head, puffing out his chest, “nah, it was okay. it’s only another day and then we leave for the airport. i’ll rest up on the plane.” his hand then falls back onto his lap and he smiles at you gently, the copper in his eyes softening, his voice low and sweet, “how was your day, baby? tell me, i’m curious.”

“um,” you start fidgeting again, and your gaze flits away from the camera, “it was nice. i, uh, went somewhere today, to the mall actually.”

mingyu quirks an eyebrow, “oh?” he hums. “did you get some new clothes, sweetheart?” he then brushes his hair back and grins almost knowingly. “even though i see you’re in my shirt. i wanted to wear it a couple days ago, but i’m glad i left it at your place, looks cute.”

“t-thanks,” you feel like your heart is going to pump out of your chest, “i did get new clothes too. do you… do you want to see them? i mean, it was actually meant for when you get back but i just– i didn’t really want to wait.”

your palms are clammy and your skin is burning. the anticipation of revealing your outfit to him lights a nervous fire in your belly, its embers beginning to seep into your blood as mingyu sets his chin on his fist and he smirks. never have you done something like this before. one part of you wants to be swallowed up, while the other is eager and needy.

a glimpse of his tongue swipes at his bottom lip before he nods, speaking in a tone that is saccharine but increasingly lustful.

“show me,” mingyu entreats, “what did you buy for me today, princess? let me see it, let me see what a pretty girl you are.”

you push the laptop a little ways back on the mattress so more of your body can be seen by the camera scope. uncrossing your legs, you instead move to sit on your knees, taking the powder blue hem of mingyu’s soft t-shirt in your hands and swallowing the heartbeat in your throat as best you could. his gaze has pierced you. slowly, you peel the fabric over the head.

as the shirt is dropped on the pillow next to you, mingyu leans back in his seat, his hands grasping the arms of the desk chair while his blunt nails dig into the hard plastic. you aren’t sure how to present yourself, so you just tug a pink strap further up your shoulder and tilt your head, gauging how his expression is darkened, like heavy storm clouds.

“do you like it?” you ask quietly, running your palm over the lace at your chest and squeezing slightly to see how the texture might feel to mingyu’s hands.

his sharp canines delve into the plump flesh of his bottom lip, sinking in deep as his eyes trace your body, positively fascinated and aroused. mingyu adores touring, but at that very moment there was no place he desired to be more than your bedroom, you sat in his lap, his hands warming your waist’s soft skin as he suckled bruises to the swell of your breasts.

“of course i like it,” mingyu rasps, feeling his length stiffen in his shorts, “so this was your plan, huh?” he scoffs. “do you know how bad i’ve been wanting to fuck you lately? do you know how difficult it is for me to go to rehearsal when i can only think about stretching you open and eating you out and making you gag on my fucking cock?”

gulping thickly, you press your thighs together as this molten, sweltering sensation pools at your core. his voice is deep and gravelly, you can almost feel the reverberations as though his words were against your ear or growled in  a somewhat muffled fashion into your heat.

“it must be hard.” you comply while slowly beginning to spread your knees apart.

mingyu doesn’t resist. he groans as he grips the prominent outline of his length through his flimsy shorts, his bicep bulging as he squeezes himself for relief. you feel a little bit like the devil. you can read from his stern brow how desperately he yearns to be at your apartment just so his hands can massage every inch of your skin before he fucks you.

“it is,” mingyu sneers, his eyes glazed, watching you partially slide a pink strap down your shoulder and run teasing fingertips across a tiny lace garter belt at the thigh, “it’s so fucking hard sweetheart, especially when i have such a pretty girlfriend who dresses up just for me. can’t you show me a little more, baby? open your legs a bit? i want to see all of you.”

“o-okay,” you oblige, untucking your legs and spreading them in front of the camera.

as mingyu stares into the honeyed, glistening flesh of your core, a shiver splits down your spine and a realization clouds your head that nothing you have ever done has felt this intimate and dirty. he curses under his breath. before you can even slip a finger to brush across your folds, mingyu whines loudly like a desperate puppy and manages his cock out of his shorts. the size of him makes you momentarily dizzy and so completely aroused.

“f-fuck,” mingyu rumbles from his chest, his fist tightly suctioned around his length while he starts a pace pumping himself. “w-wider,” he demands, “open wider, baby, please.”

you do as he asks. your arm is trembling as you spread your legs wider apart, allowing mingyu enough room to imagine himself buried snug and deep between your thighs, his warm tongue probing at the soft, wet skin, eliciting your shaky exhales and encouraging, high-pitches whines. pearls of come slowly seep from his flushed head, though he just collects them with a calculated thumb and fucks into his hand with a new rigorousness.

once your fingers meddle at your core for the first time that evening, this intense satisfaction thunders into you like a bullet rain. you roll your sore clit between your fingers and scissor into the slick shininess of your opening, your arousal pooling continuously, sticky between your eager fingers. mingyu slams his fist down harder, his hips jolting up in a loud slap.

“h-how’re you so f-fucking wet?” mingyu pants, his head spinning, “i wanna t-taste you, p-princess, s-so b-bad. wanna t-taste you then c-come right inside you until you tell me n-no. will you let me, baby, my sweet girl, my little angel? will you let me f-fuck you as rough as i want when i’m back h-home?”

it feels like there’s a white current of electricity coursing through your veins as mingyu’s immoral words lap like velvet at your ears. swirling your fingertips in sporadic, clumsy movements at your clit, you nod automatically, knowing full-well there is nothing you crave more than for mingyu to bend you over every surface and eliminate his frustrations. and even though he’s already seen the pink ensemble, you wouldn’t mind wearing it again.

“mmhm–,” you respond, your cadence quivering, “i w-want you, m-mingyu.”

the tight, rough grunts that echo in his chest only further spur you to keep pleasuring yourself. he can’t tear his hooded gaze from between your thighs; he wants to have your legs hooked over his shoulders so he can be free to plunge his tongue as far into you as he can, he wants to feel how your body contorts as he pushes just the head of his cock into your walls, hearing your mewls of how he’s too big and you need a moment to adjust.

suddenly, your fingers find that perfect rhythm. they strike an unimaginable gold spot, so sensitive and amplifying of your ecstasy that you cry out and your back instantly arches. mingyu grinds his teeth together. he can hardly keep his eyes open while he twists his wrist sharply, feeling the strength of his orgasm creep up from behind the intense heat.

“g’nna come,” he growls, his head falling back against the rim of the chair, the amber skin of his neck shimmering and his adam’s apple taunt.

in a few more strokes, mingyu falls apart like a fragile pastry, thick, white ropes of come landing on his abdomen and his black shirt that had ridden up to reveal his hard stomach. he manages to watch your orgasm as well, how your thighs suction around your trembling, meek hand that pushes you into gentle whimpers and frail breathing. mingyu closes his eyes for a fleeting moment, moans gruffly your name while pumping out every drop.

“oh my god,” you squeak, shuffling onto your elbows and parting any stray strands of hair from your forehead, “you came so much.”

mingyu is still softly rubbing at his head, laughing drowsily as his come continues to bead through the lasting tremors of his orgasm.

“yeah, well, it’s all being wasted y’know,” he teases, “i think it looks better when it’s spilling out of you.”

“maybe,” you sigh as the warm, thrumming afterglow of such an intense orgasm encompasses you, “you’ll be home soon enough.”

“but i want to be home now,” mingyu juts out his bottom lip and pouts, “seriously baby, i miss you so much. how many days until we see each other again?”

you wince gingerly from sensitivity, though manage to sit up and reach for your phone that sits on the nightstand to check the date. once the lurid screen flashes against your face, you glance at the camera and sigh, “another week.”

mingyu melts back into the desk chair almost lifelessly, though he casts you a soft-hearted smile where his fangs glint against his pink mouth and the hair has sweetly slipped before his tender eyes.

“a week,” he ponders, “i guess i can do a week. especially if i know what i have to look forward to when we’re alone again.”

[connywrites]

of flesh and blood 31

also on [ao3]

start - part [30]

-

"Fuck," he murmured to himself in a hushed, swift breath the way he often did.

"Fuck, I can't believe this shit, holy hell," he continued, pacing with his hands behind his head, eyes looking at the ground while he walked circles.

His dad was definitely going to be livid. He didn't have a partner on the team anymore, which evidently diminished his chances at being an objectionable case. The DPD wasn't going to be on his side for long, and once word of this got out he was as good as dead meat.

He didn't know what to do. There was nothing he could do.

Ripping open the box to look at the pieces of the chassis might not have been the smartest decision, but something buzzed in his mind as he pulled the face panel from the top and turned it around. Looking over the ports, bolts and other various pieces that composed the shell of its head, he paid no mind to the complicated connective process, eyeing over the electronic chips embedded into the shell that shaped the android's face, minus the eyes and internal skeleton nestled behind it, still in the box. All of the main biocomponents were there, but the entirety of the android body wasn't in the box; likely because it wouldn't fit without getting inconveniently bulky. What was left behind was the old thirium pump, drained of the liquid that dissipated from the human eye's naked vision, now an empty, metal-framed plastic container with a pair of holes blown through the front and back of it. It looked simple on its own, clear and hollow compared to the morbid visage of when it was spilling the glistening liquid across the sidewalk. The way the android’s old chassis was now a strange puzzle of scattered parts was a different kind of unnerving, compared to the fact it seemed like a living, breathing human being only days ago.

Shifting the pieces to look around more, he was startled to catch sight of the hands; white and metallic, with the strength that crushed his throat, and shoved him, and cut him, and everything else that wasn't with those arms in particular, but the ones after. The new, resurrected RK900 that returned once more, but with malicious intentions and a vendetta, the next in line of RK serial numbers that destroyed his furniture and soon enough might have entirely ripped him apart, too.

It was over now. It was gone and done with. Gavin knew he should be, too, listening to the strange creak of metallic joints as he prodded the fingers of one of the hands, admiring how deceptively limp the appendages were, how easy it was to shift the device in his hands, interlinking his own fleshy, calloused fingers with the clunky form of its original plastic ones, small panels intricately shaped and placed together to create joints and knuckles with the texture of artificial tendons running above the original plastic that would be washed over by the illusion of its ‘skin’.

This was hard-wired proof that the machine was nothing but that, no matter how human it seemed in their interactions from days, weeks, and months before. It was fascinating, in a way, how the human psyche digested things differently solely on appearance; a factor Elijah Kamski clearly took into consideration, considering they had functions to reveal or recede the human-mimicking tone of flesh, leaving them a bald, plastic chassis with eyes much too glossy and realistic, always popping out in contrast to the other inorganic features and structure. It was mortifying to think about how well it had taught and trained and disciplined him into treating it like a human, just as it wanted. Weren’t those already tell-tale signs of deviancy? Gavin supposed it didn’t matter, considering the tests were over, Cyberlife supposedly found the answer and the RK900 was gone.

That meant these hunks of useless machinery were as good as garbage, he figured, coming to terms with the fact they really were only there to scare him. Taking a deep breath in through his nose, then out with a flare of his nostrils, he tossed the pieces back in the box, and slammed the lid back on with the thought of how much it might weigh and how far he’d have to carry it to the nearest dumpster. Would that be suspicious? In all reality, he didn’t know how often commonplace people threw out their androids, and the last thing he needed was to attract more attention.

-

Going home to Sumo laying on the couch was much more comforting than seeing the RK900 waiting there, staring at him expectantly; the dog lifted his massive head with an attentive whine, wagging his tail, and Gavin lifted his eyebrows to offer him a tired expression while he peeled off his nice coat to hang up on the nearby rack.

“Look at you. Getting to lay around here all day, doing nothing,” he murmured, but his voice was fairly playful, even though it was lethargic. Sitting down and leaning back into the comfort of the new couch cushions, he welcomed Sumo with open arms as the dog plodded heavy paws onto his legs, making him chuckle at the force of the St. Bernard’s weight as he settled to lay his head down on his lap. Generally, he’d consider it too early to sleep, but seeing as he clearly wasn’t getting up to make dinner anytime soon, he figured he’d make himself comfortable, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV to shuffle through the channels in an attempt to find something to watch.

Coming home without the sense of danger throughout his house was something he’d began to appreciate, even if the only reason he had a house in the first place was because of the RK900’s affinity for ‘gifts.’ Large, unnervingly expensive, long-term ‘presents’ that were supposed to aid him in the long run, but for what? Sighing, he leaned his head back, absent-mindedly running his hands through the big dog’s thick fur, closing his eyes as he let his mind run rampant with ideas, memories, and the thoughts for his future. As it was clear he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon, he decided it was best to rest where he was for now.

-

“Yeah, I tossed the damn thing out, finally,” he said with a lighter tone to his voice, sounding relieved.

“Good. I can’t imagine what good it was doing for you, sitting around in the garage,” Tina responded with a bit more harshness than intended; but with the knowledge the ‘souvenir’ was continuing to destroy his psyche, she felt a bias over the fact it should have been thrown out since the night she unwrapped the box, expecting literally anything but the blank face she’d discovered first thing upon opening it. Gavin remembered panicking, scrambling to apologize as they ended the night early and she headed home, deciding that was a bit much and not talking to him for a couple weeks thereafter. As he was afraid to lose the only person resembling a friend he seemed to have, he didn’t take any action to bother her, simply hoping she’d contact him again; and feeling all the more relieved when she did.

“I dunno,” he admitted as he was at a loss for words.

“I thought if I kept it there, I could contain it somehow. But I can’t contain something imaginary. Should have thrown it out the night you were at my place,” he stated with a sigh, rubbing the creases in his forehead with his index finger and thumb, elbow to the break room table as he glared at his partial portrait staring back at him from the white surface, staring it down in a reflection of self-loathing.

“It’s still messing you up?” Her voice sounded callous, but he didn’t blame her for not knowing better.

“It never stopped,” he snapped in a voice that sliced through the air with its bite. She paused.

“Have you met the new guy yet?” A swift subject change ought to help them both feel better, she figured.

“Huh? Sure,” he said with a nod to himself, knitting his brows as he thought back to the annoyance that was supposedly the new aid for the team.

“I can already tell he’s gonna be a pain in the ass.”

“I think he already is,” she agreed.

“The FBI are already snakes, and Perkins is…well, who he is,” she expressed without so many words. Gavin made a disgusted noise, shaking his head to himself.

“Tell me about it. At least Perkins only shows up when he’s needed. I have a feeling this kid’s gonna be a lot nosier.” She paused.

"So...how are you holding up? With it being gone, I mean." Gavin's lips twitched back in a grimace, and he sighed.

"Okay, I guess. It doesn't feel real. Followed me everywhere, from work to bed and back again." Her gaze dimmed uncomfortably.

"Well, you've invited me over to your place, why don't you come to my house? A change of scenery often helps." Blinking with his usual dumbfounded stare of disbelief, Gavin paused, before nodding.

“Yeah, alright. That doesn’t sound so bad.”

[comingcalum]

masterpiece - C.H.

art student!calum decides to draw a masterpiece

word count: 2.2k / Third person (Calum x Amelia)

Amelia was in a world of her own as the lecturer in front of her rambled on about some building in the middle of Rome. A spare blue pen was tucked behind her ear, and she chewed on the end of her pencil as she stared at the half-completed drawing in her notebook. She pursed her lips and squinted at the page, trying to pinpoint why it didn’t look like she had imagined it to. The hair! It just wasn’t sitting right on her face. She poked her tongue out between her lips in concentration while she erased it, redrawing it until she was satisfied. She tried to make a masterpiece every time the lead touched the page, but some days it didn’t come as easily.

Meanwhile, a few rows behind her, a boy - Calum was his name - was also drawing his own masterpiece. He was erasing and redrawing the lines so frequently that the people a few spaces away from him were getting annoyed at the sound. Nevertheless, he persisted. He had to get this drawing perfect, for no other reason than the fact that he was a perfectionist. It was ironic really, the fact that he chose to be an artist with such a meticulous personality. The boy beside him - Luke - let out a low groan and turned to face Calum. He stopped what he was doing and looked at him, expecting a conversation to ensue.

“This class is so boring, I don’t know how you do it dude,” Luke whispered, scratching his stubble.

Calum looked down at the drawing in front of him and then back at Luke. “I don’t, I just draw,” He chuckled, returning his attention to the sketch. He paid special attention to the sharpness of the jawline.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell her,” Luke said again and Calum looked up to meet his tired eyes. There was a small smile dancing on Luke’s lips and Calum just rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that simple,”

“Except it is,” He insisted. “All you have to do is go up to her and be like… Hey Amelia, you’re fucking gorgeous and I’d love to fuck your brains out,”

Calum’s eyes widened and he looked around the room sheepishly to make sure no one could hear their conversation. A few eyes were darting their way and he hoped no one had heard about his little crush. The last thing he needed was for her to find out from someone else, it would be like high school all over again, and he definitely didn’t want that.

“Shut up, she’s so much more than that…,” He shook his head and began sketching her again.

“So you’re just going to draw her in your notebook until she is literally embedded into your brain?,” Luke asked.

“I gues-”

“Luke! Calum! Do you have something you would like to say?” The lecturer shouted, and both Calum and Luke sat there, mouths hanging open. Calum slammed his notebook shut before anyone could see what was inside.

Amelia jumped at the sudden interruption and turned around to look at the two boys causing the disturbance. She stares at Calum and Luke, mouths hanging open, and chuckles softly to herself as she waits for them to answer. Calum’s eyes meet hers and his breath catches in his throat, a blush rising to his cheeks. She just smiles at him, her head resting on her hand. He likes the way her hair looks today, the wild red waves tucked behind her ear with a stray hair resting on her temple. He makes sure to take in as much of her as he can, like the way her nose and cheeks are covered in freckles, and how when she smiles at him her dimples appear. In Calum’s eyes, she was the prettiest thing, and he tried to do her justice in his notebook, but he didn’t think it could come close to how beautiful she was in person.

Luke elbows Calum in the ribs and he finally finds the courage to speak. “Uh, no sir, sorry,” He clears his throat and the lecturer nods, returning to speaking moments later. Amelia turns back around and continues her drawing.

“Good one, idiot,” Calum glares at Luke and he just shrugs, attempting to focus on the lecture without much luck. Despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t shake the image of Amelia burnt into his mind.

Calum looked at his watch, wondering when the lecture was going to be over. 12:47 p.m. “Shit,” He mutters under his breath. Luke looks at him with his eyebrows raised, watching Calum turn from embarrassed to stressed in a matter of seconds. He begins frantically packing his belongings away, stuffing them into his bag without much care. The lecturer’s annoyance is evident, but he’s glad to see the boy leaving.

“Dude, I gotta go sorry,” He whispers to Luke, giving him a pat on the back as he climbs over the front of the table. He jogs down the stairs and heads to the door. Amelia looks up and watches him hurry toward the door, but returns her attention to the lecture before the door slams shut.

A few minutes later and the lecture ends, everyone scurrying out as fast as possible to attend their next class for the day. Amelia is the last one to leave, not in any rush as she had the next hour free. She finishes up the last touches of her sketch and smiles to herself, happy with how the drawing turned out as it wasn’t her strength. She enjoyed painting much more, and she was much better at it too. She painted from the inside out. All her emotions or struggles were imprinted on the canvases when she painted. The colours, the different shades, lines, textures, they all resembled a little part of how she was feeling. When she wanted to escape the world, she picked up a paintbrush, and that was her escape.

After packing up her belongings, Amelia headed to the door. It was now 1:29 p.m. As she was pushing her earphones in, she noticed a small brown book in the corner of her eye. It was partially hidden behind the rubbish bin near the door, but it wasn’t hidden enough to make her think it was intentionally put there. She picks it up, running her hands over the soft brown leather. The notebook showed some wear in the corners, but there was no name on it anywhere. She wonders how long it’s been sitting there and if it’s missing its owner. She doesn’t want to pry, but she needs to find the owner, so she opens the book and tries to find anything that may help her determine who the book belongs to. There’s a few scribbles on the front page, and she assumed it was the page where they tried to get their pen working. She turns the page, and there’s a few casual doodles, like they were practicing, eyes, hands, and lips were scattered across the paper, but they were so realistic. The person had gotten the shading perfect. She turned the page again, there was a drawing of the moon phases, and she blinked in disbelief, amazed by how well drawn everything had been in this book so far. On the next page, there was writing instead. It read “And you’ll move on, and fall in love with another brain, another soul. And i’ll still be here, waiting,” she felt the words tug at her heartstrings.

The door in front of her flew open and she let out a gasp, leaping in fright as she slammed the book shut and held it against her chest. It was Calum. He froze when he saw Amelia, and then he noticed the book she was holding in her arms. It belonged to him.

“I, uh-,” He stutters, pointing to the book in her arms.

“Oh, this.. This is yours?,” She asks, peeling the book from her chest as she reads the writing on the page again. He nods and scratches the back of his neck, chewing on his lip.

“Do you mind? You’re insanely good,” She smiles at him, waiting for reassurance to carry on flicking through his notebook.

“Thanks, I tend to just draw whatever feels right at the time,” He replies, and Amelia starts turning over the pages again. He awkwardly shuffles to stand beside her, looking at his past artwork with her.

Calum watches her as she admires his artwork. He watches her tuck her hair behind her ear every so often because it tickled her face. She ran her slender fingers over the page occasionally, and he watched her take her bottom lip between her teeth, concentrating on what was in front of her. She looked up at him every so often too, but he looked away - he didn’t want her to catch him staring. The longer he watched her, the more delirious he felt. The deep red freckles against her pale skin was such a nice contrast that he was in awe. When Calum was around her, he wondered how it was possible that he had ever felt sorrow. Her forest green eyes were always soft, willing, as if she was eager to listen to all your problems and help you fix them. And when she smiled - god, that smile - the one where she showed off her perfect teeth as she scrunched her eyes shut and let out a giggle. That smile would be the death of Calum - it left him weak at the knees. All he wanted was to grab her face and kiss those pretty lips of hers.

As he thought about her and how perfectly her hands would fit in his, he remembered something. Something he didn’t want her to know yet. And it was there - in that very book she was holding. He knew it was on the next page, but he didn’t want her to stop - but he did - but he didn’t. He held onto the smallest bit of hope that she would love it, and then turn around and kiss him on those pretty lips of his. But that was a bit of a stretch, he knew that. They had only talked a handful of times, mostly when she needed help with graphic design - something she struggled with. He knew she preferred a paintbrush to a pencil, and a canvas to a computer screen. Yet, he still wanted her to know how he felt, without actually having to say it out loud to her. As she flipped the pages, the portrait of her came into view, and Calum turned to face the other way, not wanting to see her reaction.

“Um-, Yeah… I forgot that was in there,” He lied, his hand running through his hair as he pulled lightly on the curls.

“Calum...I,”

“I know it’s stupid, I’m sorry, it’s just you looked so beautiful and I just had to save that moment without it being creepily on my phone..,” He paused. “I guess it’s still creepy because it’s in my book… but anyway, yeah, you just… you’re just gorgeous, and you felt right at the time, IT-it felt right at the uh.. time,”

Calum questioned whether he had really just said that out loud. He cringed internally when he realised he had, and he tried to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t in a dream. Amelia noticed and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Calum, no, it’s great, it looks just like me, except better,” She chuckled, not tearing her eyes from the drawing of her. It was almost as if it was a photo. Every small detail about her was apparent on the page - the septum piercing, the one freckle that kissed her ear lobe, the freckle under her eye- everything. Even the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips was drawn, and she laughed, somewhat embarrassed at her concentration face. She was flattered, and she could feel her heart racing at the thought a boy like Calum would choose her as his subject. Underneath it, she was built from fire was written in cursive. She smiled at the comment, and remembered how her mother had always told her she didn’t have red hair for nothing.

“That’s not possible,” He whispered, and Amelia looked up at him. Her lips curled into a small smile, and Calum watched her carefully. She closed the book after that and handed it back to him. He stuffed it into his bag, careful to make sure it’s not going to fall out this time.

“Well, I better go, I have class in…,” She looked at her watch. 1:43 p.m. “Seventeen minutes,”

As her hand wrapped around the door handle, she turned around to give him another smile, waiting to see if he had anything to say. He did.

“Actually, Mel-” His eyes widened at the nickname that had just rolled off his tongue, and she giggled at his reaction.

“It’s fine, you can call me Mel,” She replied.

“Great, okay… Mel, did you want to go get a bite to eat after your class? I have the rest of the afternoon free,” He asks, scratching the back of his neck. Amelia began to notice he did this when he was nervous.

“That would be lovely,”

“I’ll see you outside…,”

“L block, at 3 p.m.,” And with that, Amelia disappeared out of sight.

Calum looked around to make sure no one was there, and then fist pumped the air, grabbing his phone out of his pocket to text Luke about what had just happened.

Well, I thought this was a really cute concept. I based it off an au :) Hope ya liked it. (Tbh, I think it could be improved a lil but it’s fine for now)

[releasehipflexors-blog]

Top 3 Best Stretches To Boost Your Hip Flexibility, Relax Your Tight Hip Flexors and Cut Down Back Pain

Hello,

Ron Bernie here.

Before we get to the good stuff...

...I'd like to educate you a bit about a situation in which have been forced into and may be unaware of how seriously it affects your overall well-being.

In this brief body science intro, you will better understand your pain, why your body makes your hips so tight...

...And how all this prevents you from feeling your best, no matter how diligent you are with your workouts or how well you eat.

The foam roller exercises for your hips outlined in this article will help you loosen knots and help release stuck fascia, to a decent extent.

Sitting Is Disfiguring Your Fascia and Leaving You with Extremely Tight Hip Flexors

Because your spine and hips are stuck in a shortened "L" position, sitting is causing your hip flexor fascia to contracture and progressively develop inflexible scar tissue that will not only reduce your range of motion, but...

...It will literally pull you out of alignment and warp your anatomy into unnatural positions, causing perpetual muscle strain which then triggers even more thickening of the fascia and so on.

This consistent muscle tension will keep you stressed, fatigued and overweight. The tight psoas muscle is switching your brain into constant survival mode.

There's no magic pill that can safely shut it off.

The most devastating part of this cycle, that sitting sets in to motion, is that even if you were a professional athlete or manual laborer,constantly moving on your feet, you would still be affected.

No one can not sit.

Stand-up desks are really only a band-aid solution. They may cause other misalignments because we will get stuck into one position while working, anyways

They are only masking the symptom,not targetting the root cause. They do not release hip flexor fascia.

What is Fascia?

In case you are unfamiliar with the term (if you already are, scroll down to the next section)...

...Fascia is a white, fibrous, sheet-like connective tissue that permeates your whole body. It's literally everywhere, under your skin, within and around joints,on all sides of your muscles and organs.

It’s like your body’s natural plastic wrap, which also functions as a a protective brace.

Fascia is what gives abs their 6 pack shape and what prevents your organs from sloshing about and hitting your rib cage when you jump on a trampoline.

Another way to think about it is like this:

If you were an orange or a tangerine, your fascia would be the white rind, or pith...

...that keeps the skin or peel attached to the soft fruit inside.

Fascia also acts like the white membrane that separates each of the citrus’ sections.

It keeps everything in place, organized and in its own compartment.

That is fascia in a nutshell...err...orange peel

Fascia is a double-edged sword that can hinder us. It supports and protects all our body structures and it automatically reinforces areas prone to repeated injuries of small and large scale; but it can also imprison.

It's bit like one of those Venom or Carnage symbiotes from Spider-Man, now that I think about it.

Anyways, with that anatomy lesson learned and without much further ado...

...Here are the Top 5 Best Exercises to Foam Roll Your Hips and get a Deep Myofascial Release for Your Tight Hip Flexors

For a well-rounded and balanced hip flexor myofascial release, start at the main problem spot, foam rolling the hip flexors, then migrating down to the secondary thigh areas, that also contribute to tight hips.

Keep these principles in mind and foam rolling for effective myofascial release of tight hip flexors will be simple:

Before you start, be sure to warm-up for 5 minutes, alternate between knee-ups, jumping jacks and butt kicks to cover all angles; also cool down the same way

Keep the foam roller perpendicular to the muscle that will be rolled

Roll one side at a time. Only the target area rests on the roller

Post your hands and non-rolling leg's foot on the floor, to get wide base of support

Use short, repetitive motions only rolling out a few inches at time, before moving along the limb. Think of a tired caterpillar

Stop and hold whenever you find a knot or trigger point

Roll each target muscle for 20-60 seconds

Also...

...If it hurts, move more slowly and get some weight off by pushing through your non-working limbs

Number 1a: Foam Roll the Hip Flexors

Place the foam roller on the floor and lie top front part of your hip on top on

Angle your body to the side, pressing at the top of your hip bone

See-saw back and forth on the roller, turning your body slightly with each pass

Once you feel some loosening follow the stretch below

Roll and stretch only one side at a time

Number 1b: Foam Roll the Hip Flexors

Flip yourself over so that the roller is now supporting your low back, level with the crease where shirt and shorts meet, as a guideline

Keep your shoulders and the back of your head on the floor

Grab non-rolling leg and bring that knee to your chest

You will feel the stretch on your rolled hip flexor

Repeat 1a plus 1b for the other side

Let's see it in action, with the video below.

How to Properly Foam Roll the Hip Flexors

Read my Unlock Your Hip Flexors review by pressing this button here

One thing to correct the advice with the video above: Do not hold a static stretch before you lift or run, your performance will dip and your risk of injury will rise.

Perform static hip stretches AFTER your workout.

Number 2: Foam Roll the Glutes

Sit one glute onto the foam roller, angled to the side

Cross your ankle onto your non-rolling side

Keep the knee of the target side bend

Swing back and forth until you feel the pain fade or knot undo

Repeat with the other side

Number 3: Foam Roll the IT Band and TFL

The exercise is similar to how the hip flexor foam rolling video showed; but this time, the target areas are the dense iliotibial band and the tensor fasciae latae on the outside of your hip and thigh.

Lay sideways on the foam roller, with your ankles touching while supporting yourself on one hand

Cross and bend your top leg over the bottom one

Plant that foot in front of the rolling side and maintain that sidelying position

Roll down towards the outside of the knee and up towards the outer hip

Do the same thing for the other side

Number 4: Foam Roll the Quads

The quadriceps primarily straightens the knee; but because it (rectus femoris, specifically) attaches all the way from the front of the hip to past the knee cap, it also flexes the hip.

Imagine a halfway line across the width of the foam roller. Use only one half

Lie face-down with your thigh resting near the end of the foam roller

Rest your non-working knee on the floor

Pushing and pulling with your toes and forearms, maneuver your way down and then up the quad

Repeat with the other leg.

Number 5: Foam Roll the Hamstrings

Pretty straightforward, it is the reverse of foam rolling your quads.

Sit the back of your thigh on the roller

Use one half of the foam roller, like you did for quads

Post the foot of the non-rolling leg and your palms on the floor

See-saw back and forth

Do the same thing with the opposite side

You may have noted that the hip adductors (groin muscles) are left out.

That is because with a foam roller we cannot achieve enough leverage to do anything meaningful to the adductors, except make your skin a little red.

Foam rolling adductors would be a waste of your time and effort.

Foam Rolling Your Hip Flexors and Surrounding Hip Muscles is a Step in the Right Direction but...

...It's not enough.

Truth be told, while these conventional foam roller exercises are excellent additions to your self-care routine. They are not cure-alls that will get to the root of the problem.

Just the distal tendons are released by foam rolling your hip flexors.

A foam roller cannot reach deep enough to fully relax your deep hip flexors, the psoas, which are behind your internal organs, abdominal muscles, dense fascia and fat tissue.

The mighty psoas are the prime pair of muscles that are subjecting you to back and hip joint pain, decreased energy and making your belly bulge out out even though you eat healthy and hammer in those core exercises.

Releasing the psoas hip flexors wrong can lead to negative consequences.

There is a specific order of operations that you must follow in order to succesfully unlock your hip flexors.

Using the analogy of a combination lock, you need to not only know the right numbers, but also input them in a specific order.

If you want to use your foam roller to the greatest effect and implement these cutting-edge fascia stretching techniques to finally release those stubbornly tight hip flexors...

...Take a look into the Unlock Your Hip Flexors Program.

It has been meticulously designed and tested by leading injury and rehabilitation specialist Rick Kaselj in collaboration with premier strength author Mike Westerdal and his team at Critical Bench.

This proven system has helped myself and the friends and family I recommended to, immensely...

...The Unlock Your Hip Flexors method will:

Eliminate back pain and joint discomfort

Shed stubborn, clingy body fat

Let you regain the energy you once had when you were younger

Sleep deeper and wake up ready to seize the day

Increase digestion, immunity and sexual health

And more...

==>To read my detailed Unlock Your Hip Flexors review, click this link.

Frequently Asked Questions About Foam Rolling Hip Flexors

Q: What kind of foam roller should I use? Smooth or textured?

A: Both. There are hybrid 2-in-1 foam rollers that are half flat and half bumpy, which can be easily found and bought on Amazon for fitness stores for around $30.

Scroll up, for a visual. It would be the yellow foam roller pictured in the how to foam roll hip flexors exercise instructions.

Q: How firm should my foam roller be?

A: It depends on your pain tolerance. I'd recommend a medium-high firmness; because a soft one won't really give you a proper myofascial release for hip flexors.

Q: What is the best size for a foam roller?

A: I recommend one with a length of around 13 inches and a 6 inch width. Anything significantly bigger than that, is awkward to handle and makes it difficult to get into those hip flexor trigger points.

Q: When should I foam roll my hip flexors?

A: Everyday. The best times would be after your regular workout, even it isn't leg day, and on rest days.

Q: How long do I foam roll my hip flexors for?

A: Aim for 30 seconds up to 3 minutes each side; hip flexor myofascial release takes time.

Q: When will I start feeling the results?

A: Again, foam rolling hip flexors takes some time. The benefits will become apparent after a few weeks of diligent self-care.

If you would like to learn a faster, more efficient hip flexor release method, click this link for my in-depth Unlock Your Hip Flexors review.

If You are Truly Motivated to Release Your Tight Hip Flexors and Eliminate Back Pain...

...Invest in the program.

Click the review link above, read it so you are well-informed, then one the next page click the gold button on the top right side of the homepage.

It will appear as a new tab, so it doesn't take away from your learning.

I speak through my own experiences and from the feedback I got from my friends and family, whom I recommended this program to; Unlock Your Hip Flexors will be of great benefit to you.

Experiment with the program for 60 days, risk-free. You can thank me later.

Also...

...Thank you for Reading my page, How to Foam Roll Your Hip Flexors Using These Top 5 Best Exercises to get a Deep Myofascial Release for Your Tight Hips

You did a good thing for yourself.

The routine provided may involve a tiny bit of work and some sorting through anatomical and fitness jargon; but getting to know your body is never a bad thing.

Remember to check with your physician before you start any exercise routine.

With all that said, I hope the hip flexibility tips detailed in this blog post has proven useful and informative for you.

Remember: You always win when you invest in yourself.

Best of luck on your mission to a pain-free life.

-Ron Bernie

[vctor-niliforv]

Thin Socks and Thinner Walls

“Ah! I almost forgot,” and Viktor came swooping back into the main room, just as Yuuri was making to stand. “I don’t really want to kiss your feet, no offense to you, so this will have to do,” and he was talking too quickly, his accent was back and it was heavy now, and Yuuri was really confused by the comment about kissing his feet, and suddenly Viktor was kissing his forehead.

Viktor was kissing his forehead.

alternatively titled ‘viktors kinda a dick sometimes but hes harmless’.

Yuuri hid his gasp of pain behind the cuff of his turtleneck sweater, as he pulled off his skates as delicately as he could. His feet were read and swollen, and tiny cuts and scrapes were scattered across the skin. He was used to the bruises and blisters left behind after a long day of practice at the rink, of course, but he never bled this much. Cursing quietly as he found the source of the problem (his too thin socks that he had grabbed by mistake in his haste to get to the rink on time this morning), Yuuri quickly pushed his skates aside and eased his feet into his black trainers carefully.

Yuuri glanced around and thanked his lucky stars that Viktor had run to the bathroom. He didn’t want his coach (idol? friend?) to see how bent out of shape he was after a simple day of training.

He would just have to make it back to the inn without limping too much, and then he could quickly wrap his feet, and they’d be healed by the morning. Hopefully.

Yuuri could already feel anxiety churning in his stomach and rolled his eyes. Of course he was going to get all worked up over nothing; it was just some shallow cuts on his feet, nothing new. Which he knew, of course, but it’s not like his anxiety ever listened to reason.

When Viktor returned from the bathroom, they headed to the front of the rink, waving to Takeshi on their way out. The jog home consisted of Yuuri hiding the searing pain in his feet as Viktor rode on his bicycle a few paces ahead, calling over his shoulder occasionally for Yuuri to keep up, which was most definitely helping Yuuri’s sour mood.

Luckily, by the time they reached the inn, Yuuri’s feet were numb and he couldn’t even feel the friction on his open cuts as he trudged past Viktor, who was tucking away and chaining up his (stupid) bicycle, and into the inn. He was immediately hit with the smell of his mother��s cooking and instantly felt all thoughts of the pain in his feet leave his mind.

Yuuri shucked his shoes at the genkan and went straight to the kitchen to see what his mother was making for dinner, not even bothering to put his slippers on. He distantly heard Viktor fumbling behind him, as he wiggled out of his shoes and then stepped up onto the higher ledge that led into the main room (Yuuri remembered quite clearly the first time he told Viktor that he wasn’t really supposed to step on the lower floor of the genkan in his socked feet before stepping onto the main floor, and the ensuing display of Viktor’s lack of balance off the ice as he nearly fell on his butt in his attempts to follow Yuuri’s directions) (Yuuri also remembers failing at hiding his laughter at this spectacle and Viktor’s subsequent pouting mouth and blushing cheeks).

When Yuuri emerged from the kitchen after greeting his mother and helping her prepare his and Viktor’s meals, he noticed his coach sitting alone at one of the low tables in the empty main room, scrolling through some app on his phone and petting his dog. After Viktor had been barred from entering the kitchen on multiple occasions to help out with dinner (because Hiroko insisted that he was a guest despite his long-term stay at the inn), he usually just sat and waited for Yuuri to eat dinner with him.

It struck Yuuri how lonely the man looked, slumped over the table with a tired look on his face and staring boredly at his phone all alone in the large main room with just the company of Makkachin, and Yuuri wondered not for the first time, what Viktor’s life in St. Petersburg must have been like.

Yuuri made his presence known by stepping loudly into the room and saw Viktor’s face light up when he saw Yuuri. But it was probably because he was holding a tray of food and that the other man was hungry, Yuuri told himself, already fighting off a blush. He went to sit next to Viktor, knowing he meant no harm, which he knew quite certainly at this point. Viktor wouldn’t hurt a fly- literally. Yuuri had watched him shrink away in terror from a mere fruit fly that had gotten trapped in the kitchen just last week and remembered (albeit secretly) the time the Russian man had chosen to sleep in the main room of the inn on a zabuton instead of his large bed simply because there had been a small spider on his wall.

Viktor thanked Yuuri for the wonderful food, and Yuuri redirected the compliment to his mother, who deserved the praise since she had cooked the food. Viktor called his thanks to Hiroko in accented Japanese as she passed them on her way to the back of the inn to help Toshiya close up for the night.

Yuuri and Viktor ate in companionable silence for awhile, sitting on the same side of the table and facing the muted television, which was playing a rerun of some soccer game. Yuuri shifted slightly, taking as much weight off of his bruised feet as he could, as the numbness faded away and the pain slowly came back. He would probably have to wait to shower until the morning when his feet were healed, and lamented to himself over the fact that he’d have to go to sleep feeling dirty and covered in dried sweat.

“Yuuri, you’re hurt!”

Viktor’s exclamation broke Yuuri out of his thoughts and he looked up in surprise to see his coach staring at his uncovered feet. Yuuri glanced down and cringed as he saw that is too-thin socks were soaked through with blood. The jog home must have done a lot more damage than he thought, and Yuuri had been too preoccupied with shoveling as much food into his mouth as possible to realize he wasn’t wearing any slippers and his bloody foot was mere inches from Viktor’s knee.

Yuuri jumped and drew his legs close to his chest, hiding his feet in the cuffs of his sweatpants.

“Um- I. Yeah, I put on the wrong socks this morning and my skates chafed my feet a bit too much, I guess,” Yuuri said honestly, looking anywhere but at his coach. “I’m fine, though, I’ll wrap them lat-”

“Let me,” Viktor interrupted, already standing up and making his way to the cabinet with the gauze and bandages (he knew where it was from the time Yuuri had to wrap up his elbow after a nasty fall on the ice).

“What- no! It’s fine- you don’t have to, Viktor. I was going to after dinner,” Yuuri said as he attempted to stand as well, but his feet got caught in his sweatpants, and suddenly there was a warm hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” Viktor said softly from somewhere above Yuuri, and the hand on his shoulder became heavier for a moment as Viktor used him as leverage to drop down and sit beside him again, facing him now. “I’m your coach, and your friend, Yuuri, and I want to take care of you. Will you let me?”

And he was genuinely asking for his permission to wrap his feet- to touch him, Yuuri realized as he stared at the man in front of him. Viktor’s eyebrows were raised and he was holding up the gauze like some offering to go along with his question. Yuuri’s expression softened, and he nodded, shifting so that he was also facing Viktor and pulling up the cuffs of his pants to expose his feet.

Viktor quickly went to work, gently peeling off the thin socks, wincing whenever Yuuri winced from the pain and apologizing profusely.

“I’m going to get a towel and warm water to clean away the blood, ok? I’ll be right back,” Viktor said and was gone before Yuuri could even respond.

He came back as quickly as he had left, with a small bowl of water and a damp rag from the kitchen.

“This might sting,” Viktor warned before delicately pressing the rag to Yuuri’s left foot.

And sting it did. Yuuri hissed as the warm water and rough texture of the rag met the open cuts on his foot. Viktor’s thumb rubbed soothing circles into his ankle from where he was gingerly holding Yuuri’s foot in place with his free hand.

Viktor continued, slowly and carefully washing Yuuri’s feet until all the dried blood was gone and Yuuri’s feet were left a bit redder than before, but certainly much cleaner.

Yuuri watched as Viktor quickly unwound a long strip of gauze before wrapping it expertly around Yuuri’s foot, from toe to ankle.

When Viktor moved to his other foot, Yuuri moved his gaze to study his coach’s face. Viktor looked focused and determined, a small line between his brows that Yuuri had noticed only showed up when Viktor was worried (he’d seen it a few weeks ago when he had fallen and cut open his elbow, and that one time Makkachin had gotten a bit too excited about her walk and ran into a wall, and whenever Viktor came face-to-face with any insect).

Without thinking, Yuuri reached out and poked the line with his thumb, rubbing softly until it went away. At that point, Viktor was looking at him, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

“Oh,” Yuuri gasped, and pulled his hand away, brought it to his mouth instead and bit at his fingernails- nervous habit. He watched Viktor’s eyes follow the movement, before he chuckled and smiled gently, and Yuuri noticed with a jump in his stomach that the tips of Viktor’s ears were pink.

“All done!” Viktor exclaimed a moment later, with a final pat to Yuuri’s knee before he gathered his supplies and stood to put them back where he found them.

“Thank you, Viktor,” Yuuri said once the other man was in front of him again, his expression open with a soft smile curving across his lips.

“Of course, Yuuri,” Viktor said, returning his smile. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yes, much better,” Yuuri said honestly. His feet still stung a bit from the warm water, but when he shuffled them on the floor in between himself and Viktor, there was no immediate pain. He wiggled his toes and watched the bandages around the top of his feet move. He supposed for the rest of the night and into the next morning, he would have the feet of a mummy, and scrunched his nose up at that thought.

When he looked back up, Yuuri noticed that Viktor was looking at him contemplatively, and he felt his cheeks flush slightly at the attention. The crease was back between Viktor’s eyebrows.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said softly, and Yuuri tensed at how serious he sounded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuuri blinked back at Viktor for a few seconds and then blew out a breath and drew his legs back up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. “I just- I didn’t want you to think…” he trailed off and sighed again, dropping his legs to cross them in front of himself before shrugging.

“I didn’t want you to see how beat up I was after just a simple day of practice,” Yuuri said all in one breath, his eyes trained on the bandages wrapped around his feet. He was too tired to make something up, and the tone of Viktor’s voice compelled him to be honest.

“Yuuri,” this time Viktor’s voice was full of disappointment and Yuuri couldn’t blame him, he had made quite a fool of himself.

Viktor let out a sigh of his own and shifted to mirror how Yuuri was sitting, their knees only inches apart.

“Yuuri, look at me.”

At Viktor’s request, Yuuri looked up and shocked at how close and how intense Viktor’s blue eyes were. He looked determined again, but slightly less worried. After a beat, his gaze softened and a soft smile curved across his lips.

“Do you remember what I told you last week, at the beach?” he asked.

Yuuri blinked and took a moment to think. “That the sound of the seagulls reminds you of St. Petersburg?”

Viktor laughed a little too loud at that, rousing Makkachin, who was napping under the table with her head on Viktor’s thigh. She whined and moved to sit behind Yuuri instead.

“No, not that,” Viktor said, still chuckling. “I meant… when I said that you weren’t weak. You aren’t weak, Yuuri,” and Viktor had that intense look in his eyes again, determined and focused, like he wanted Yuuri to understand and believe him.

“And we were talking more about emotional strength at the time, sure, but you are not weak physically either, Yuuri. You were in pain today after a long day of practice and the wrong socks- for a skater, that’s a big deal,” here Viktor gestured to Yuuri’s bloodied socks lying on the ground beside him.

Yuuri just stared at Viktor with wide eyes, nodding slightly in understanding. He had told himself as much on the way home, trying to calm his nerves and stop his thoughts from spiraling dangerously into self degradation, though it hardly ever worked. But hearing these assurances come from someone else made the shame and embarrassment that had been curling in his gut for the past few hours lessen slightly.

Viktor sighed and scratched at the back of his neck before continuing, his voice even softer than before.

“What I’m trying to say is… I want you to know that your well being will always be more important to me than a full day of practice. You don’t ever have to prove anything to me, Yuuri, I already know that you’re an incredible skater- I’ve known that since the very first time I saw you skate.”

Viktor was smiling his dazzling smile, but Yuuri could see that it was completely genuine and that made it so much more effective. His cheeks were quite red by now, from Viktor’s words and the soft look in his eyes.

“So, the next time you’re in pain, tell me?” Viktor asked, a note of pleading in his voice. “I would never dream of holding judgement against you for it. Do you believe me?”

And he sounded so hopeful, so sincere and of course Yuuri believed him.

“Yes, I do,” he said, his voice shaky but certain. “Thank you, Viktor, really it means a lot.”

Viktor was quiet for a beat, looking as if he was trying to understand what Yuuri had said, almost like he was confused. But the moment passed, and he smiled again, the corners of his eyes crinkling and the little dimple in his left cheek making an appearance. It was Yuuri’s favorite smile.

“No need to thank me,” Viktor said and before Yuuri could protest, he stood up and gathered their empty dishes. “Now, I’ll clean up and you should get to bed, rest up for tomorrow. We’ll do weight training in the morning to give your feet a break and see how you feel in the afternoon. And wear thick socks!” Viktor called from the kitchen, in what Yuuri had deemed his coach voice (it sounded rather ridiculous: for some reason, there was always less of an accent; or perhaps it was just a different accent, Yuuri couldn’t really tell, but it reminded him of how British radio announcers talked).

“Ah! I almost forgot,” and Viktor came swooping back into the main room, just as Yuuri was making to stand. “I don’t really want to kiss your feet, no offense to you, so this will have to do,” and he was talking too quickly, his accent was back and it was heavy now, and Yuuri was really confused by the comment about kissing his feet, and suddenly Viktor was kissing his forehead.

Viktor was kissing his forehead.

“To help you feel better,” Viktor said simply, as if that answered any of Yuuri’s questions or calmed his racing heart. Viktor’s ears were pink again, which Yuuri thought he’d really like to see more often.

Yuuri stared up at Viktor for what felt like an eternity, before he finally stood up. He could feel the blush burning on his cheeks, but he didn’t care much, nor did he care about the goofy smile spreading across his face. He nodded in acknowledgement of Viktor’s well-wishing.

“Well, um…” Viktor started, then paused, his ears pinker and fighting off a smile himself as he rubbed the back of his neck. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Good night, Yuuri. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said cheerily.

“Good night, Viktor,” Yuuri said quietly, still smiling softly.

Viktor nodded and then made his way out of the main room, turning once he reached the threshold to smile over his shoulder once more before he was gone.

Yuuri exhaled loudly into the silence he was left in, rubbing his hands over his face. He shook himself slightly and quickly walked to his room, pausing only to turn the lights off and call Makkachin after him.

As Yuuri lay in bed, thinking of Viktor’s pink ears and soft lips and his dazzling smile, he couldn’t help but smile widely into his pillow like some high schooler thinking of their first crush.

See you tomorrow, Viktor had said, and Yuuri truly couldn’t wait- his hatred of weight training be damned.

[uglymanchronicles]

UMC:R Chapter 4: Systems Check

This one’s a bit of a weird one--basically a heavy-handed excuse to describe my own character in weirdly homoerotic detail.  But it has some PATHOS and I otherwise had fun writing it.  There will be probably two more chapters before the prequel ends and we start getting back into where the original UMC started.  Enjoy!

“Fffffuck me.”

Evan really hoped he wasn’t falling into a pattern of sudden switches between consciousness and unconsciousness. It couldn’t be good for his brain. Speaking of...

He reached back and patted his head where it’d gotten intimate with the counter. There was some blood matted in his hair, but aside from that…

Evan sat up and turned around. There was a bit of blood on the counter, and some on the carpet where he’d been lying. But beyond a slight tenderness where his fingers touched the spot, there was no pain—and certainly no wound. How long…?

Evan pulled himself up, noticing how oddly easy it felt despite having very recently donkey-punched himself by proxy. The video was still going, but past-Evan had somehow unstrapped himself from the machine and was in the process of stumbling towards the camera. Before the screen went blank, Evan noticed the total length of the video. In comparison to what it had been when he’d toppled over, less than five minutes had passed.

In less than three minutes he’d almost completely healed from a potentially moderately-serious head injury. Not only that, assuming there hadn’t been any post-editing, his previous self had recovered enough from having his brain cored out to be able to free himself from a torture device, walk no worse than a six-drink-deep drunk, and manipulate electronics at least as well as a five-year-old.  How much damage could he sustain and still function? Was there a limit? Could he even die?

Introspection provided no answers, and Evan suddenly found himself very uninterested in the question. Right now, all he wanted to do was take a shower. Maybe that would help put things in perspective. Plus, it was after midnight; if he was going to seriously consider DIY-ing himself into a superhero, he’d do it best after a good night’s sleep. There was also the little matter of the blood in his hair, but that barely registered as a concern in the face of everything else.

His bedroom door was littered with post-it notes and taped-up signs demanding he watch the video on the laptop. He felt a slight tinge of resentment for the earlier version of himself. Sure, he’d gotten the point across, but for God’s sake, there was such a thing as going overboard! Evan ripped off a handful of the notes and crumpled them up as he pushed the door open.

He groaned. The bedroom was almost unrecognizable. About the only thing familiar was his computer, which had been moved to a corner of the room and rearranged on an apparently homemade shelf-slash-desk-slash-whatever. What surface wasn’t occupied by his keyboard and mouse was filled with pieces of machinery and small piles of electronic components.   He’d mounted his three monitors directly to the wall, apparently to save space; in addition, two flatscreen TVs, dated and obviously secondhand, hung on opposite sides of the corner of the room.  So many papers, pictures, and maps were stuck to the walls that the cables connecting the myriad electronics were completely obscured. Had he really gone full tinfoil-hat? Evan groaned as he noticed colored pins and threads weaving an intricate web between the numerous pieces of media. Yep. He’d gone full whacko. If there were any actual, legitimate connections there, the connections had been lost when he’d rebooted his brain.

God, he was getting tired of putting off seeking answers. The temptation to dive into all this nonsense and sort through it was almost overwhelming. But he knew if he sat down and started digging through everything he’d be there for days and wouldn’t get anything else done. He looked around again and actually heard himself growl when he realized his bed was gone. His mind went to the bundled thing on the roof of the RV. Great. He’d uprooted everything to make room for his craziness. There was something in the space where the bed had sat, but it was covered in books, binders, and cast-off clothing.

He’d bought a Bowflex and stashed his bed to make room for it. Had he done this after he’d drilled a hole in his head? It seemed like the kind of thing a guy missing part of his brain would do. He peered back out of the door and saw that the loft at the front of the vehicle had been set up into a sort of mini-bedroom, complete with a long, flat dresser. Well, that made some kind of sense, at least.  

Grumbling to himself about nothing specific, Evan hauled himself up to the loft to inspect what he was certain was a cluttered, hideous bolt-hole in his own damn home.  He was pre-emptively sighing as he pulled himself over the edge, but never quite finished it.  

“Oh.”

Another pleasant surprise. He’d actually set up a nice little room there.  The mattress was very flat but looked fancy, like the kind podcasts were sponsored by. The mattress was topped with neatly folded sheets, an understated but tasteful light gray comforter, and surprisingly plush pillows. A legless nightstand nearby held a small lamp, a bottle of water, and a notepad and pencil, all arranged very deliberately. A small pile of books of varying sizes sat neatly by the mattress, and a small adjustable shelf affixed to the wall held another laptop.  Across from the mattress, a small flatscreen TV hung on the wall, wrapping the whole scene up in a nicely cozy domestic package.

All in all, he was impressed. It was a quaint little living space cultivated out of what he’d formerly dismissed as a throw-away attic. He was a little miffed that the price had been his actual bedroom, but of all the things to begrudge his former self for, this was pretty low on the list. He hauled himself up and crawled to the dresser.  As he opened the drawers, he realized how strange it was to experience his own idiosyncrasies from the outside.  Each pair of socks was neatly knotted together, his boxers were folded perfectly square and sorted by color and pattern; it put him in mind of an adorably eccentric little old man, probably a watchmaker.  That seemed like the kind of person who’d fold his clothes with a t-square and index them.  The thought made Evan smile, but the wholesomeness of the image faded somewhat when he found himself thinking that guys like that usually wound up being serial killers.

Fresh clothes acquired, Evan hopped down and headed to the bathroom. It had been a hell of a thing to find an RV with a bathroom that wasn’t smaller than the average coat closet, but he’d scrounged around until he’d found a Class C model—the one with the bathroom you change clothes in without having to stand with one foot in the toilet.  He had never regretted the extra effort and cost.

He stood in the center of the bathroom for a moment, steeling himself. It was time to rip the band-aid off, figuratively and literally. He stepped up the mirror and stared himself in the eyes.

He could almost see his thoughts reflected in the blue of his irises. Did he really want to do this? Not this whole thing, but this, specifically. If he could heal from practically anything but still needed to have his face under wraps, it must be really bad. Maybe he could just wear a mask the rest of his life, never knowing what he actually looked like. Avoid the ugly truth.

Even while he was thinking it, he knew how ridiculous that idea was. The chaos of the past few hours was stirring up a lot of generalized anxiety that was sending his mind strange places. Drilling a hole in his brain less than a week ago probably hadn’t helped on that front, either.

Time to start that journey of a thousand miles, I guess.

He tied back his hair, took a deep breath, and started to peel the gauze away. Adhesives caught on small hairs, tender skin grumpily sent his brain pangs of pain as it was uncovered. The air on the uncovered skin felt alien, as if it was only touching his skin very reluctantly. Evan’s leg was shaking involuntarily by the time the last bandage landed in the trash can, and he had to take a few deep breaths before he finally raised his gaze to the mirror again.

“……fuck.”

His previous self hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he wouldn’t be winning any beauty contests; if anything, he’d been understating the situation. He’d be lucky if he didn’t make kids cry when they saw him.

His left cheek definitely had the worst of it. His in-between-brown-red-tan skin—which he supposed could be called “ruddy”, but he liked to refer to himself as “ethnically ambiguous”—was covered in divots and spots from his mis-angled jawline up to just below his left eye. Evan slowly ran his fingers over his mottled skin, marveling at the variation between the individual pits, bumps, and gashes. There were actual small chunks of face missing. The texture of the skin was almost smooth to the touch but a little bit sticky, like the paint of an old house, complete with uneven coverage and bumps of buildup. Evan found that the skin didn’t hurt to the touch, but it also didn’t feel how skin was supposed to feel; his fingers didn’t immediately recognize it as skin, and the touch of his own fingers on his cheek came through muted and distorted, like the sensation was on a weak, distant signal. Christ. Was it a burn? No, it looked like he’d been too close to an explosion, all chopped up like that. Was it an accident or an attack?

Shit. It didn’t stop on his face, either. It had been hidden by his hair, but now that it was pulled back he could see that the pitting and gashes continued upwards along the side of his head. Pieces of his left ear were gone. Everything behind the top of the ear was a chewed-up mess. His lobe was still there, but not for lack of trying; a jagged tear ran from the back halfway to the front. It was like somebody had bitten the top of the ear off, then grabbed the lobe and tried to just yank it off.

After a few moments of staring at his ragged ear, Evan whipped his head around to check the other one. He sighed with relief as he saw it was intact, but the new angle brought the right side of his face into view. It wasn’t as bad as his left, but, unfortunately, his left side had originally been his ‘good side’; two long, curving scars, the result of an unfortunate incident with a turkey vulture during his teenage years, ran up the right side of his neck and peeked over his jaw about an inch up his cheek. Previously, that had been the extent of the damage to that cheek.

But now, in addition to a ton of tiny scratches and a few more small divots, his right cheek was taken up by a wide starburst-shaped scar that trailed off to a line and crossed his crooked nose like the tail of a comet, ending somewhere among the mess on his left cheek. It even looked like somebody’d tried to stitch it closed—upon closer inspection, the edge of the scar looked almost serrated. Clearly the stitches hadn’t held. He couldn’t imagine how much any individual part of that must have hurt.

His big, broad forehead was relatively unscathed save for a few “normal” scars, though a tiny triangular chunk of the far edge of his left eyebrow seemed to have left for greener pastures. After everything else, it was almost jarring how un-damaged he was above the eyes. Maybe he’d been wearing a helmet or something when whatever mutilated him happened. If it was just one incident.

Well, shit.  He wasn’t quite the most mangled person he’d ever seen, but…

He felt tears start to well in his eyes as his fingers gripped the edge of the sink.  It wasn’t fair.  He’d been handsome, if a bit unusually so, before.  Not that he’d taken advantage of it, but… to suddenly wake up to a face that was no longer his was frightening.  He was hideous.  Hell, he was almost a monster.

Evan’s heart pounded louder and louder as he fought back tears. There was no distinction between anger, sadness, and fear any more. A synesthetic mass of emotions stormed around his brain, crushing all his thoughts under the weight of pure mental chaos. He started to scream, a hoarse wail that pitched up gradually to a roar of insane fury as his whole body began to quake violently. He stared his mutilated reflection dead in the eyes as he continued to scream, a primordial, hateful rejection of the thing he saw before him. When he ran out of breath, he screamed between gasps; short, sharp shouts that consumed all the air in his lungs with each exclamation. He didn’t know how long he was screaming before something made a loud crack and came loose in his right hand.

Evan’s scream slowly trailed off as he looked down at the object in his fist. It was piece of the sink. In his rage, he’d gripped the countertop surface so hard that a palm-sized chunk of stone had broken off.

“What a cheap piece of…” Evan started to say, but then stopped. He’d dropped a hammer on the sink months ago and it hadn’t even chipped the surface. It didn’t damage easily. So what…

Evan’s eyes fell on his hand again. He’d always had huge hands, which stuck out on his lean, lanky arms like the end of a rake. Except his arm wasn’t lanky any more. He couldn’t pick out the bones in his wrist like he remembered. In fact, there was a lot more wrist than he remembered, circumference-wise.  Ditto with his forearm (more scars there, too…), and his elbow was similarly magnified.  And above that…

“JESUS CHRIST.”

Evan had never been a small guy.  Even as a kid he’d been tall and wiry, with limbs that seemed a size or two too long for his torso.  He’d hit six feet tall before he’d hit his 14th birthday.  In high school, he’d been involved in a lot of sports, but always ones where being dexterous and fast were to his advantage.  Even when he’d begun boxing he’d focused more on using his reach and stamina than developing sheer stopping power.  After watching his two older siblings become hulking behemoths of human beings, he was aware that his family had the potential to be extraordinarily beefy, but he’d tried to stick to keeping himself slim and trim.

Clearly, something in the missing months had made him reconsider his stance on the issue.  If his bicep was less than 24” around he’d be shocked.   He raised his hand to shoulder height, clenched it into a fist, and curled it backwards.

“God damn, son!”  Evan watched his own muscle bulge and shrink several times over, a grin slowly creeping over his face.  Okay, yeah, he could work with this.  That’d do just fine.  

Like a kid on Christmas tearing into the biggest present under the tree, Evan yanked his shirt off over his head with violent enthusiasm.  Underneath, he was still wearing that strange undershirt.  

“Weird sequin armor. Later,” he muttered, dragging the strange garment off and tossing it into a corner where it settled with a soft slithering sound.  Evan’s jaw dropped as he took in his bare torso.  Wide-eyed and still staring downwards, he sidestepped his way back in front of the mirror. His gaze slowly raised to the mirror again, and he realized his horrifying face was split into a massive grin. Even with his disfigurement, his sheer excitement was clearly evident. He took a deep breath, held it for a second, and then yelled again.

“Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaa-uhhhhh, BABY!”

He didn’t have a ton in the way of resting definition, but the bulk of muscle was undeniable. Evan spent a few moments flexing his arms and shoulders, marveling how his skin shifted and bulged in novel and fascinating ways. He was at least a foot broader at the shoulder than he remembered, and that was just the start of it.

His chest was borderline absurd. Like his shoulders, it had broadened, thickened, and rounded. Evan gingerly poked at his bulging pectorals. Firm, but not rock-hard. Enough softness to still feel like a person instead of an object, but still extremely supple. He felt his cheeks flush.

He had boobs.

But… like, good guy-boobs? That was a thing, right? Some girls liked that. Some guys, too, he thought, feeling his cheeks burning a little hotter as some cobwebs were dusted away from that particular corner of his libido.

He knew he was fully blushing now, but a strange and weirdly irresitable notion was punching through the fog of embarrassment. Fuck it, he was alone. Who was going to see?

Evan put his hands under his pecs, lifted, and pushed them together, leaning forward and pursing his lips at his reflection. He winked at himself and made a kissing sound, then burst out laughing. He had cleavage! Almost four inches of it!

Evan flopped down on the toilet lid, giggling madly to himself. “I guess the big tits gene doesn’t just affect the women in the family,” he managed to chuckle, hefting ‘the boys’ again. He looked almost hilariously sexualized. In addition to his new bustiness, he was still sporting nipple piercings and belly button ring—remnants of teenage rebellion that he’d kept as a cautionary tale to himself against impulsive decisions. The silver spikes and brass ring somehow looked more at home on his new body; when he’d been scrawny they’d made him look like he was trying to audition for a ‘Suicide Girls’ knock-off. If only he’d had paler skin and a heroin addiction he could probably have made a lot of money with a webcam. Now he looked like he could be on the cover of a harlequin romance—albeit one with a lot of airbrushing and somebody else’s head imposed on his body.

So he’d beefed up in anticipation of… whatever he could call whatever he was about to undertake. That explained the exercise equipment, as well as several containers of various supplement powders he’d come across while checking on his food situation.

Now that he’d finished with his giggle fit over his tits, Evan was a little surprised by how long it’d taken him to notice how much his body had changed. Everything still moved the way he remembered; he still felt very light on his feet, despite his new bulk. Standing in front of the mirror again, he bent from side to side at the waist, testing his flexibility.  Amazingly, he felt limber as ever. Apparently past Evan had done this bulking up thing right; despite the fact that his abdomen and obliques seemed to have been replaced with rock-solid slabs of beef, he was still able to easily bend down and touch his toes. While he was down there, he noticed that he hadn’t skipped the proverbial leg day, either—that, or he’d had a butterball turkey implanted into each thigh.

So… arms and shoulders three times bigger, a jaw-dropping rack, less ��abs” and more “slab”, skull-crushing thighs and an amateur slasher movie face.  He looked weird. But… he found himself liking it more the more he thought about it.  He could do something about the face, or make it work for him.  Make looking like a brute work.  Be a fashion pioneer.  Figure something out.  

Now that his giddiness had died down a bit, Evan started looking himself over for other damage.  The video had said he’d have a massive wound on his chest, but he hadn’t even noticed it at first. There was, indeed, a large discoloration a few inches under his left nipple, reaching around under his arm and around to his back, but it looked more like a giant birthmark than a fatal axe wound. Why was it so faint?  Hell, the purple spot on his solar plexis, a sort of permanent bruise from a childhood injury, stood out more than it. His body was dotted with other, smaller scars that stood out much more; a few near his navel were definitely bullet wounds, and judging from the jagged pale lines above his right hip, a bear had tried to steal his kidney.  Regardless of their size, wounds that could cause scars that severe should have been still hurting him bit, even after external healing.  But he found that, aside from the scars, it was as if those injuries never happened.  No sign of any internal injury.  He felt extremely healthy, and he was grateful for it, but it wasn’t how that worked, and that started to eat at him.

The rules had changed and he had virtually no data on how any of it worked. He was no longer afraid, angry, or sad about his situation. Now he was annoyed. How was he supposed to go about this intelligently with only anecdotal evidence? The obvious answer was to start testing the properties of his healing, but what if there were strange rules?  Did he have a personal kryptonite? What if he cut himself, and it turned out the healing didn’t work because of what the blade was made of, and he got an infection and died? What if there was a limited number of times he could heal? Was it like an extra life system?

Evan stepped back up the mirror again, now glowering at his reflection. Now that he wasn’t as shocked by his own appearance, maybe he could figure something out in the patterns of the scars. Some kind of clue in the type of injuries or something. Just a starting point. Some tiny little verifiable speck of data he could cling to like a drowning man.

Before any answers surfaced from his ruined reflection, Evan noticed something sticking out from behind the mirror. The corner of a yellow piece of paper was closed in the medicine cabinet door.  He tugged it out and recognized his own handwriting again.  

Thought you might need these.

Briefly puzzled, Evan pulled open the medicine cabinet.  There, tucked amongst bottles of an alarming variety of supplements, was an old ‘Altoids’ tin, slightly dented and faded with age.  As he picked it up, a familiar skunky smell wafted into his nostrils. He snorted with laughter as he flicked the tin open and pulled out three meticulously-rolled joints and his favorite lighter.   After a second’s thought, he stuck all three between his lips and flicked the lighter open.

“Fuckin’ right I do.”

[turkeyfeet8-blog]

The Epic Travel Salad

  When I saw the number, I couldn’t believe it: 29 hours. It was undoubtedly going to be one of the longest travel days of my life. I’ve been to Bali twice before, but always from Copenhagen, which is about half the distance from Toronto. I almost gave it a second thought since spending that amount of time sitting upright just felt like it might end me, but the retreats were booked, and there was no backing out!

I knew what would get me through, and that was food. Lots and lots of delicious, nourishing, consciously-created food. I always always make a point of preparing meals for traveling, since eating mini, microwaved mystery munch seriously kills my vibe. Plus, the amount of calories in one of those airplane trays is barely enough to get me through one romcom and you know that I’m watching at least five in a row.

When you’re about to face any length of time on an airplane, there are a few things to take into consideration. First, fill your snack pack with foods that are hydrating: cucumbers, romaine, bell peppers, carrots, apples, oranges, celery, berries, grapes, and melon. Depending on where you’re traveling to, it can help to have the fruits and veggies already prepared or sliced, since some countries won’t let you bring in whole fruits and veg, but they will let you bring them in if they look ready to eat. It sounds nonsensical, but it works!

I love having huge vegetable salads with lentils and / or whole grains to keep me full too, since I have a tendency to stress-eat when I’m in transit and will totally mow down a bag of chips if they’re put in front of me (okay, sometimes I also eat those chips, and that is okay too, but I notice that it always prolongs my jetlag). For other filling munchies, I like my almond flour cookies, nuts like pistachios or walnuts, and granola – especially crossing so many timezones, which requires breakfast-y things. Veggie sticks are also nice, light fare that keep my crunch cravings under control.

As you can see from the photo, I bring my food in reusable containers, use washable wooden cutlery and a straw, all of which are convenient to have once I’m at my destination to use for my own cooking and storage. I also always have my 800-ml water bottle with me when I travel. I’ve mentioned it in previous posts, but it begs repeating: jetlag is exacerbated by dehydration, and drinking about half a liter (16 oz.) per hour of flight will make such an immense difference, you may never experience jetlag again. I used to suffer terribly from exhaustion for days post-travel (which really ruined my trip when it was a short one), and now it’s no big deal. I arrive, wait until a mildly appropriate time to go to bed, and wake up feeling about as normal as one could hope to. Yes, you’ll have to make friends with the flight attendants, since they are the keepers of the water, but go visit them at the back of the plane every so often for a refill, treat them like humans, and you’d be amazed at how accommodating and helpful they are. Make sure you fill your bottle before landing as well, since you never know how long it will take for you to get through customs, baggage claim and the taxi line. It always pays to have hydration close at hand.

Avoid the plane food if you can, since it is overly salted and often has added sugar. Our taste buds are actually less receptive at high altitudes, due to low air pressure, low humidity, and high levels of white noise. Yup – that is an actual thing. The way our brains interpret flavour signals is impaired, therefore, things taste different, so airlines pump up the levels of salt and sugar in their food to make them taste the way they would at ground level. If you ate that travel-sized “chicken or pasta” at your dining room table you’d be surprised at how exaggerated the flavours were.

  Why is this the most epic travel salad? Because it’s got All. The. Things. Rich, hearty beets, protein-rich and satiating lentils, so it’s filling, but it’s not going to leave you feeling stuffed. And because of that whole flavours-being-less-powerful-at-high-altitudes thing, I endeavoured to add as many potent tastes as possible. Lemon, pomegranate, parsley, cumin seeds, and olives are like flavour fireworks that you can safely ignite at 30,000 feet. There is a Middle Eastern vibe going on for sure, and the multitude of textures tick every single box. You don’t want your mouth getting bored while you’re hurtling through the sky, and this combination will ensure that each bite is a surprise party.

Olives that come without their pits are often mushy and less flavourful, so I always opt to remove them myself, or leave them in until I eat them. The problem with leaving the pits in the olives in this situation, is finding a place to put them on your teeny table real estate (the airsick bag is a great option, just sayin’…and yes, I’ve really thought of everything). If you do want to remove them beforehand, it’s easiest to do so by smashing the olive with the flat side of a knife blade, then simply pulling the pit out. You can roughly chop the olives from there.

If you don’t have any black lentils, Du Puy or French lentils work just as well, with green and brown lentils as a passable fallback. I don’t dig these types of lentils in salads since they tend to be water-y and dilute the flavour of the dressing, but if it keeps you from making a special trip to the store, by all means just use them.

And normally I wouldn’t include alliums in a plane salad since your neighbours might give you the stink eye when you pop open your lunch box, but I’ve tempered their potency by pickling them ever-so-slightly. This is done in the same container that you’re going to put your salad in, preceded by mixing up the dressing right in there too. Easy peasy!

I guess I should mention that this salad is not just delicious on a plane – it’s also fabulous enjoyed at ground level. Perfect for road trips, picnics, school or office lunches, just make sure you make it the day before so that all the ingredients are cool. If you travel with this salad on the warm side, it could spoil in transit.

  Maybe it’s a bit strange to have a travel salad as the first post of the year, but I’m a bit tired of the whole “new year, new you” rant. People expect me to talk about cleansing or detoxing in January, and although I’m all for reflecting and re-evaluating one’s lifestyle choices, I’m a bit bored of the narrative saying that the first day of the new year is the time to atone for all our dietary sins. Why do we need a specific day to act as a reason to start treat ourselves well?

If there a New Year’s resolution to pull out of this post, it should be to resolve to make yourself delicious food when you go anywhere. Avoid the overpriced convenience food, no matter how healthy it is, since nothing sold in a package will ever compare to the freshness, or high-vibrational energy of food you’ve lovingly prepared for yourself. Case closed!

If you’d like more travel food recipes, tips, and inspiration, check out my two previous articles here and here.

    Print recipe    

The Epic Travel Salad Makes enough for 2-3 meals

Ingredients: 3/4 cup / 170g dry black / beluga lentils, soaked overnight if possible 2 ½ pounds / 1200g beets 1 shallot, sliced into rings ½ tsp. fine sea salt zest and juice of 1 large organic lemon 1 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar 1 Tbsp. cumin seeds 1/3 cup / 60g pumpkin seeds 1 tsp. honey (vegans sub with maple syrup) 3 Tbsp. cold-pressed olive oil heaping ½ cup / 80g pomegranate seeds heaping ½ cup / 100g olives, with pits 1 cup / 25g parsley ½ tsp. flaky salt, or more to taste 1 small head romaine lettuce

Directions: 1. Preheat oven to 400°F / 200°C. Place whole beets (with the skin on) on a rimmed baking sheet and roast for around 45-60 minutes, until you can easily insert a sharp knife into the center (baking time depends on the size of your beets). Remove from oven, let cool completely, then slip the skins off. Slice into bite-sized batons.

2. While the beets are roasting, cook the lentils. Drain and rinse well (if you’ve soaked them overnight), and place them in a pot, cover with plenty of fresh water, and bring them to a boil. Reduce to simmer, place a lid on the pot, and cook until tender (about 15-20 minutes if you’ve soaked them, a little longer if you haven’t). Salt the lentils a few minutes before they’re done – if you salt them at the beginning of cooking, the skins will be tough and they’ll take longer to soften. Drain and rinse lightly. Set aside.

3. While the lentils are cooking, prepare the dressing. Slice the shallot into very thin rings, then place them in the container that you’re going to use to store the salad. Add the salt and combine them well. Wait about 2 minutes, then add the lemon zest, juice and apple cider vinegar (these ingredients will lightly pickle the shallots, plus act a as a base for your dressing).

4. In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast the cumin seeds until fragrant, set aside to cool. Without washing the pan, toast the pumpkin seeds until fragrant and popping, then set aside to cool.

5. Back to the dressing: whisk in the honey and olive oil. Add the prepared beets, lentils, pomegranate seeds, olives, parsley, toasted cumin seeds, pumpkin seeds and flaky salt. Fold to thoroughly combine. Taste and add more salt if necessary (remember that the ingredients will absorb some salt while marinating, and that it will taste milder in the air).

6. You can either chop the romaine lettuce up and place it on top of the salad (don’t mix it in – it will get totally mushy), or you can leave the head whole and peel off the leaves and use them as little salad boats. If you’re going for the latter, wrap the washed head in beeswax cloth to keep it fresh.

The Wild Heart High Spirit Retreats are starting tomorrow, and I cannot wait to embrace each of the women who have traveled from every corner of the earth to join us here in Bali. We are going to eat the most delicious food, practice yoga, dance, laugh, learn, and celebrate the joy of being alive together! We have one space left for the second week, so if you’re interested in joining us in tropical paradise, please visit our site for more information.

Peace and blessings for an abundant, healthy, vibrant year ahead. Thank you for being here. I love you.

xo, Sarah B

Source: https://www.mynewroots.org/site/2019/01/the-epic-travel-salad/

[practoall-yahoopartner-blog]

25 Useful Summer Care Tips

Summer means heat, lots of sweating, dryness, skin problems like tan, sun burns, pimples, heat rashes, blemishes and much more. With the blazing sun of the summer months, you need to know how to look after the skin properly and look fresh and vibrant.

Just using a good sunscreen is not enough for your skin in summer. You need to take proper care of your skin and hair too.

Here are some simple remedies for you to have a glowing and supple skin even in summer.

1. Cool Off

Carry a face mist with you, so you can mist your face and body while out in hot sun.

I am sharing a great Homemade Cooling Cucumber Mist recipe :

Puree a peeled cucumber until it is smooth.

Strain this mixture through your cheesecloth into a clean bowl, and make sure to squeeze that cloth to get all the liquid out of it.

Add 1/2 teaspoon of lemon juice, 2 tablespoons of mint juice, 1/2 cup of rosewater, and stir well to make sure its all blended together, then pour the liquid into a spray bottle.

If you find that its a bit too viscous, you can add more rosewater or a bit of distilled water to dilute it.

This is a wonderfully cooling and soothing mist on sunburns, dry weather ravaged skin, or during a menopausal hot flash.

2. Do away with Dry Skin

Use a gentle scrub on dry skin to exfoliate, before you bathe. Pay special attention to knees and elbows. Finish with a rich body cream or oil within three minutes of toweling off.

A Very effective Home made Exfoliating Coffee Body Scrub

Mix 1/4 cup sugar sugar with 1/2cup finely ground coffee beans, 2 tablespoons of sesame oil,and 1/2 teaspoon (about 20 drops) eucalyptus essential oil. Turn it to a paste. You can add a tablespoon of sea salt and extra virgin olive oil too.

The firming effect of caffeine,nourishing sesame oil and purifying eucalyptus oil work magic with your skin.

Use this mixture to scrub your entire body.

Scrub away gently for 10 to 15 seconds until you feel your skin has turned soft and silky.

Rinse it off with lukewarm water. Make sure you use a body wash to experience the softness of your skin.

Once done, apply a moisturizer of your choice to retain the moisture.

3. Eat Your SPF - literally!

Oral intake of vitamins C and Vitamin A can limit potential for sunburn. A salad with vitamin C rich citrus, berries, tomato, and vitamin E rich nuts is an ideal SPF meal.

A mixed fruit treat of mango, strawberries, papaya is an amazing reward for your skin.

Mango is rich in betacarotene, a natural sunscreen given to us by nature in this season. It also fights against skin ageing, regenerates skin cells and restores the elasticity of skin.

Papaya is also a rich source of Vitamin A with a great sun protective action.

4. Ease the Eyes

The summer elements can be particularly harsh on the fragile skin around the eyes.

Apply sunscreen around the eyes too. You can use homemade packs to soothe your eyes. Use glares to protect your eyes.

A very soothing Homemade Cucumber Mint Eye Mask

Blend a cucumber (it is ok to leave the skin on) and 5-6 mint leaves.

Add a small amount of water to thin the cucumbers juice.

Dip cotton pads in the juice and gently squeeze them to get rid of excess juice with your palm.

Place the cotton pads flat and separated in a clear zip-lock bag and freeze them until they are iced.

At the end of a tiring hectic day, just take two cotton pads out of the bag, place them over your eyes for around 20-25 minutes and relax.

5. Protect your pout

The suns rays are very drying on the delicate lip tissue.

To keep your lips luscious and hydrated, apply a richly textured lip balm with a minimum SPF of 15 and reapply regularly, when outdoors. Apply little coconut oil or ghee on lips at night to prevent them from chapping.

The following Homemade lip pack will be well appreciated by your lips.

Apply a mashed ripe banana in a teaspoon of sour cream and leave on to soothe your chapped lips.

6.Take a cool shower

Hot showers after sun exposure further dry the skin. A cool shower after excess sweating helps keep the skin unblocked, and decreases acne breakouts.

7. Hydrate your Skin

Skin is the largest organ and needs to be kept hydrated all the time. 8 to 12 glasses of water helps to soothe the skin and keeps it supple.

8. Protect your Skin from the Sun

Use a good sunscreen with correct SPF properly and repeat as frequently as required. My health feed titled 'Know your Sunscreens' gives a detailed insight about the sunscreens.

9. Timed Travel

Sun rays are the harshest in noon. Try to avoid direct sun exposure between 11 am and 4 pm as much as possible.

10. Spritz your Scalp

Long locks offer some shade from the sun, but the sensitive skin along your hairline and parting still get bombarded with harmful UVA and UVB rays. Use a sunscreen spray along the scalp line. It's harder for creams to be absorbed there, and you can still get a sun burn.

11. Sip in your Antioxidants

Antioxidants are the key for summer, and there are tons of ways to work them into your routine.

Resveratrol, a naturally occurring phenol found in the skin of red grapes can decrease redness from acute sunburns. It has an anti-inflammatory and antioxidant effect, helps strengthen your skin's outer layer. Water melons are loaded with antioxidants and are rich in water content.

12. Supercharge your Skin

Cantaloupe (our kharabooja) is the melon of choice for beautiful summer skin. The sweet delicious fruit is rich in antioxidants and delivers a unique hydration to the skin, resulting in a radiant complexion. It can actually boost your SPF by several factors

13. Love your Legs

The trick to great summer legs is to alter the way light reflects off the skin's surface. Exfoliate first, scrub and apply a good moisturiser. Always use a sunscreen.

14. Wear a Wide Brim

A plain cap won't protect your face from sun coming at an angle. Opt for a hat with a brim for full protection.

15. Keep Blemishes at Bay

During the warmest months, blemishes, acne can occur in embarrassing locations.

Select your sunscreen wisely. Sleep with a clear face. It is highly necessary to put off all your makeup at night, because it can seriously damage your skin. You can use a cleanser to remove all the makeup perfectly.

16. Save your skin

Sunny days makes your skin pigment uneven, consequently the skin that gets extra exposure to sun becomes dark and patchy. Once patches set in, its very hard to remove them. So apply some soothing creams over your skin daily or apply cold compresses whenever you come back home. Do not miss out on your sunscreen.

17. Feed Your Face

The best tool for an even summer skin tone is probably already in your fridge. Cut a large strawberry in half, swipe it across your face in small circles, leave it on for about two minutes, then rinse off. This will also brighten sun and age spots over time.

18. Pamper your hands and feet

The thin skin on your hands and feet wrinkles and pigments easily, so be sure to use sunblock daily.

Exfoliate frequently and apply moisturiser at night.

The following Homemade Scrub for hand and feetwill help to keep them soft and supple.

Mix well one tablespoon of coconut oil, 1/4th cup of sea salt and 1/4th cup of fine sugar (brown or white).

Add the juice of a lime and mix again in a blender for about 30 seconds.

Store in an airtight container and use within a week.

19. Light is nice

A lot of sunscreen is heavy and oily. These can contribute to breakouts and shine during the summer months. You can switch over to a water based or gel based sunscreen. Also wherever and whenever possible use a cap or cover your face with a kerchief or dupatta.

20. Battle Breakouts

Reduce bumps caused by summer heat and humidity with an at home antiseptic anti acne mask once a week.

Make a paste of rose petals and basil leaves.

Add pinch of turmeric and 1 tablespoon of chickpea flour.

Make a smooth paste of these ingredients. And apply to your face.

Wash it off with cold water after it dries.

This pack works well for acne prone skin. This pack also brightens up your skin and makes it soft and supple.

21. Bounce back from sunburn

The traditional indian chaas, lassi is amazingly soothing to your sun scorched skin.

The lactic acid in curd is calming and soothing for the skin.

Leave it on for 30 minutes as a mask before taking a cool shower and pat dry.

Freeze aloevera gel in ice trays. You can use the compresses if you get sun burnt.

22. Beat the Itch

Bug bites can itch and look unsightly for weeks after they become inflamed.

If you happen to get a sting, apply cold compresses, apply chilled aloe vera gel twice daily until itching resolves.

Avoid scratching.

Apply kojic acid containing creams twice a day to fade off any residual marks.

23. Be Gentle

During warmer months we tend to produce more oil and this means some people use overly aggressive skincare products. You can use a mildly foaming cleanser to eliminate excess oil but not totally strip your skin. If your skin feels tight after cleansing, the cleanser is too aggressive.

24. Mellow your yellow !

Many of us opt for gels or long-lasting chemical nail varnishes to keep chlorine and salt water from chipping away at polish. Unfortunately, these chemical-laden lacquers also leave your nails with a yellow stain.

Soak your nails for ten minutes in a mixture of four parts water and one part hydrogen peroxide. Use a buffer and lightly massage almond or jojoba oil into your nails and nail bed to get them back to their healthy, natural hue.

25. Pamper your Crowning Glory!

In the hot summer days, we need to wash hair almost daily, because they become tacky sooner. Use a mild or natural shampoo that does not contains chemicals. Also, avoid using heavy conditioners because it could make hair look sticky in summer.

Hope you have a great summer !

Do like and share this health feed with your family and friends.

Stay Healthy! Stay Happy!

This article was originally published on Practo Health Feed by Dr. Jolly Shah Kapadia, Dermatologist

More articles from Practo Health Feed

Chai garam chai: The Benefits Of Going Green With Your Tea! Ankhon hi Ankhon mein: Useful Tips To Cure Dark Circles! Importance of Skin Nutrition

[fanfics-await-you]

Oh (Part 1)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: You’re patched up by Cassian but afterwards everything kind of falls apart. In your defense, he really should’ve knocked.

Tags: light injury, language, it’s a cliche and a trope but it’s cute so…

Word Count: 859

Part 2

Masterlist

“So help me, Cassian Andor, if you poke me one more time, I’m going to break your ribs!”

“Did you know you’re kind of bitchy when you’re injured?”

The laughter that follows is short-lived for everyone involved after your attempt to punch his shoulder leaves you both in pain. While rubbing his arm dramatically, Cassian looks back at you and you quickly close your eyes. You clutch your ribs as if the blaster wound is the only thing causing you grief, but the dusting of red on your cheeks threatens to reveal you as a liar. He begins to fluster over you again, checking your bandages, and it’s all you can to do to resist leaning into Cassian’s hands.

—

Despite his stubbornness, your stomach drops every time you make him laugh. Despite his icy temper, watching him dance drunkenly with the other pilots feels something like homesickness. Despite his relentless honesty, his friendly hand on your shoulder only sparks a desire to learn the texture of his skin. Despite everything, you had somehow fallen for the asshole.

—

“Y/N. Hey! Are you alright?” Cassian says, his hands and words soft on your face.

You open your eyes. He is less than a foot away, thumbs resting against your cheekbones as he searches your eyes for pain. For a second, for the moment you allow yourself, you are breathless and the world is hanging on an edge. A gentle push, not even enough to disturb your ribs, would close the space and-

“I’m fine, Cassian. It’s just- you know- I just- it’s ok… Don’t worry. You patched me up pretty well… for a pilot.”

You manage a weary smile at the end, which he returns, but you can tell that it’s not reaching your eyes. You lightly grab his shoulder to help yourself up, using it as an excuse to make space and leave (although you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t just want to touch him as well). You pace around, trying to stretch yourself without breaking anything new, while Cassian climbs back down to the helm to check on Kay-Tuesso.

———

After awhile, you look down at your blood-spattered and sand-caked uniform to find that you are audibly filthy. You had been able to hear a slight crunch for some time, but in your tired state it had taken you a couple minutes to realise why. Your uniform was beginning to crust. Rolling your eyes at your own obliviousness and the ridiculousness of the whole situation, you walk slowly to one of the storage units. The clothes there are coated in dust, but you decide that is preferable to becoming trapped in your own suit.  The opening of the hatch causes you to scramble to cover up before the call of Kay-Tuesso stops you.

“Are you dead yet?”

“Not yet, K2, though thanks for your concern.”

“Cassian made me check you were still breathing.”

“How unreasonable.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Sorry, I think I’m going to make it this time…. You don’t need to look quite so disappointed… Oh, and I’m changing, so can you two give me a minute?”

“No.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

The hatch clicks shut and you begin to cut/peel/break off your ruined clothes. Using the fresher ones as rags, you wipe the worst off your legs. Pulling on the one-piece flight suit you found, you unsuccessfully try to pull it up to your shoulders but the pain in your ribs brings tears to your eyes. So, instead you tie it at your waist and reason that there must an old jacket somewhere that you can use in lieu. You’re tentatively cleaning around the bandage on your ribs when the hinges of the hatch behind you creak.

“K2, I said give me a minu-“

Shit, shit, shit.

It’s Cassian.

You’re standing there half covered by a flight suit (this is not the problem) and less than half covered by rather bloody underwear (this part is the problem). He’s just standing there, halfway through the opening, with his mouth hanging slightly ajar. You’re too in shock to do anything but stutter and flush.

“I- my clothes- blood! There was- I- I told K2 to t-tell you. I- shit.”

Cassian doesn’t respond but he does start blushing. Not a cutesy red tinge that colours his cheeks. Nope, this starts vibrantly at his face before travelling to his ears, dipping down his neck, and it even caresses his collarbone. His eyes are darting, looking nowhere in particular, but they just keep landing on you.

“Y/N-“

It’s at this moment he moves and the hatch falls open with a loud ringing. It gives you both a small reality check.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry! K2 said- well, fuck! Never mind, I-“

“No, Cassian, I should hav-,” blinded by panic, you try to cover yourself with the flight suit.

The pain from the movement itself partnered with the sharpness of the action is dizzying. The room literally spins momentarily until your skin burning and a pair of hands holding you steady brings you back.

“Slow down, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

[glamodasite]

Banter Babe: Ellis Brooklyn’s Bee Shapiro

What’s your beauty vibe? Is there such a beauty vibe as a mood ring? I’m constantly changing up my look. My makeup beauty goals would probably be Katie Jane Hughes. I’m obsessed with her Instagram account. She does so many cool color and texture combos without looking like she’s wearing a pound of makeup. Also, she does a lot of glitter shades on the eye, and I’m a sucker for anything twinkly.

What’s the first beauty product you owned and loved? My mom was – and still is – obsessed with skincare so I feel like I’ve been using beauty products in some way, shape, or form since I was born. I remember whipping up lanolin oil hair masks in second grade and I also did egg white facials. I’m also part of the Lip Smacker generation. I had five different flavors in elementary school, including my fave: Dr. Pepper. I was also obsessed with Love’s Baby Soft fragrance. The first makeup product I was most into, though, was my black kohl eyeliner from Wet n’ Wild. I was 12 and I would wait until I got to school (so my mom wouldn’t see) and then spend some 10 minutes each day putting on gobs of it. I grew up in Seattle so I thought I was doing the grunge look justice — the important word here is “thought.” It might not have been my best beauty moment but I’m still a big fan of eyeliner, so it really was love.

What’s your favorite beauty treatment splurge? I had a facial from Nichola Joss recently, and I swear my face looked lifted for a week afterwards. I’m a huge proponent of massage in general and she’s best known for this inner mouth massage that hurts so good. She’s also just an immensely talented, lovely person so I absolutely believe in karma and good vibes and all of that.

What’s your daily makeup routine — and how long does it take? I have a 3-year-old and a 19-month-old, so I have gotten very good at putting on makeup in five minutes. That said, I don’t skimp. If it’s the weekend, I’ll skip foundation and might just do a tinted sunscreen. I like the radiant one from Ever or the Skinceuticals Physical Fusion UV Defense, which is so reliable. But if I’m headed to work, then I like a longwear foundation. The Dior Forever is really good, and I like the MAC Pro Longwear nourishing formula. They each have a color that works very well for me. I dot that on with a damp Beauty Blender so it’s still relatively sheer. I almost always wear eye makeup. I have virtually nonexistent eyelashes, so mascara is a must. My go-to lately is Lancome’s Monsieur Big. It’s like Too Faced’s Better Than Sex, but with a less clunky brush. Eyeshadows might be my favorite color product. I have palettes for days. Also Tom Ford just put out some glittery beauties via his Extreme line. I use a black liquid liner on top and a soft kohl or gel eyeliner on the bottom, like the one from Smashbox. For liquid, I’m fairly agnostic, but I do like the Lancome Artliner and Cle de Peau has one that has two different brush ends, thick and thin, which is nice. I might contour with CLE’s bronzy cushion compact; Charlotte Tilbury’s Bronze and Glow is good for days I’m on the oilier side because it’s a powder. I have a bunch of Chanel blushes in a variety of shades, and I’ll dust a tiny bit on just on the tops of my cheeks. For lips, I generally go for a lighter neutral color by day. The new Dior Lacquer Plump is so good—like a stain but not so drying. Brows take me the longest. Lately, I’ve been using two different pencils by Benefit. One has a wide, long tip and the other is very precise and made for drawing in hairs. I also am very into fragrance (obviously!). Since starting my line, Ellis Brooklyn, I pretty much only wear my own. I’m currently over the moon for our new Fawn scent. It’s neroli, coconut milk, amber, lily of the valley; it’s my highbrow-yet-delicious summer scent.

What’s your daily skincare routine? Lately, I start with Skinceuticals Replenishing Cleanser, which is gentle yet gets the job done. Then I’m big on the layering scene. I can always leave a layer off. If it’s pretty mild out, I might just stick to a hyaluronic-based serum. The Innisfree Intensive Rehydrating Serum is so good for the price. Skinceuticals also has a bunch of really great serums. If it’s harsh or dry out, I might layer a cream on. I love the Avene A-Oxitive line. I’m also a huge fan of the Avene Cicalfate Restorative Skin Cream when my skin is on the fritz. At night, I do the same cleanser situation but might also use the Klorane Waterproof Eye Makeup Remover. It’s super effective without being too oily. I’ll go back to the serum and then do an oil instead of a cream. I avoid silicones when I can at night. I think silicones are okay in moderation, but too many skincare products these days over-rely on them. Also, you really don’t need a silicone unless you’re out in the elements. I’ve been into the Elemis Superfoods Oil. Also, the Elemis Pro Collagen Eye Serum is so lovely and sinks in right away.

I’m also a big-time masker. I’m really loving the M-61 Fast Blast Facial Mask lately, which is like a blast of vitamin C in just 2 minutes. At night, I like the Glow Recipe Watermelon Sleeping Mask. If I’m not using the sleeping mask, there are a plethora of glycolic/lactic peeling options out there.

Age gracefully or filler and botox, please and thanks? Currently just aging but definitely considering filler and Botox. With the two kids and the fact I’m turning 37 this year, Mama looks tired. I also discovered all these tiny eye lines recently. It’s like they appeared out of nowhere.

What product do you buy in bulk? Aquaphor. I use it for my kids and myself. For awhile, I tried to eliminate all petroleum jelly and mineral oil from the products our family uses, but then my youngest had very bad eczema and Aquaphor, along with Mustela’s Stelatopia line, was the only thing that worked. I find it one of the best multi-use products, ever.

What’s your save-the-day hair product and why? I am so impressed with the Miriam Quevedo Glacial White Caviar Hydra-Pure Shampoo. After I had my second baby, my scalp would not stop itching. I literally tried everything from scalp masks to scrubs to sulfate-free, etc. This is the only thing that made my scalp stop itching. It’s super gentle, gets the job done, and has some sort of magic (albeit expensive magic) that rebalances your scalp’s flora.

I also really like the Briogeo Don’t Despair, Repair hair mask. It smells delicious and really does the job without weighing hair down too much.

Who is responsible for your hair – cut and color? I actually get my hair cuts all over New York. I’m constantly testing out different stylists for my New York Times work. My most recent cut is by Arsen Gurgov. It’s very good because he didn’t over-layer and it’s growing out well.The best cut I ever got, though, was by the master, Serge Normant. I currently don’t have my hair colored, but I am very tempted to go crazy blonde one day.

Best piece of beauty advice you’ve received? This one came from my mom: Don’t focus on being the most beautiful because there will always be someone more beautiful than you out there. Instead, make the most of what you have and then don’t think too much about it.

Who is your beauty icon, and why? Probably Francoise Hardy, but since I will never look like that — I’ve never been good at that effortless French look anyway — I’ve sort of given up on the whole beauty icon business. Instead, I sort of have my muses of the moment. I’m currently super into Fernanda Ly and also the Japanese model, Kozue Akimoto.

What’s your least favorite beauty trend/ look? The angry brow. It’s the one that’s most in your face lately. I’m actually very much in favor of a strong brow but I’ve been seeing so many pairs of angry brows on the subway. What may look decent on Instagram may just look scary in real life.

If you could only do one beauty treatment on the weekly, what would it be and why? A massage, hands down. It just re-centers everything and gets the blood going without doing a workout.

What’s your best kept beauty secret? If you want to keep breakouts at bay before a big event, drink a shot of aloe every morning. Don’t go for the sweetened stuff, go buy a big bottle of straight aloe juice from Whole Foods. The stuff is disgusting but I swear it works.

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— Bee Shapiro, founder of Ellis Brooklyn and New York Times writer.

The post Banter Babe: Ellis Brooklyn’s Bee Shapiro appeared first on Beauty Banter.

Banter Babe: Ellis Brooklyn’s Bee Shapiro published first on https://hypertoolz.tumblr.com/

[theperfectorpage]

Banter Babe: Ellis Brooklyn’s Bee Shapiro

What’s your beauty vibe? Is there such a beauty vibe as a mood ring? I’m constantly changing up my look. My makeup beauty goals would probably be Katie Jane Hughes. I’m obsessed with her Instagram account. She does so many cool color and texture combos without looking like she’s wearing a pound of makeup. Also, she does a lot of glitter shades on the eye, and I’m a sucker for anything twinkly.

What’s the first beauty product you owned and loved? My mom was – and still is – obsessed with skincare so I feel like I’ve been using beauty products in some way, shape, or form since I was born. I remember whipping up lanolin oil hair masks in second grade and I also did egg white facials. I’m also part of the Lip Smacker generation. I had five different flavors in elementary school, including my fave: Dr. Pepper. I was also obsessed with Love’s Baby Soft fragrance. The first makeup product I was most into, though, was my black kohl eyeliner from Wet n’ Wild. I was 12 and I would wait until I got to school (so my mom wouldn’t see) and then spend some 10 minutes each day putting on gobs of it. I grew up in Seattle so I thought I was doing the grunge look justice — the important word here is “thought.” It might not have been my best beauty moment but I’m still a big fan of eyeliner, so it really was love.

What’s your favorite beauty treatment splurge? I had a facial from Nichola Joss recently, and I swear my face looked lifted for a week afterwards. I’m a huge proponent of massage in general and she’s best known for this inner mouth massage that hurts so good. She’s also just an immensely talented, lovely person so I absolutely believe in karma and good vibes and all of that.

What’s your daily makeup routine — and how long does it take? I have a 3-year-old and a 19-month-old, so I have gotten very good at putting on makeup in five minutes. That said, I don’t skimp. If it’s the weekend, I’ll skip foundation and might just do a tinted sunscreen. I like the radiant one from Ever or the Skinceuticals Physical Fusion UV Defense, which is so reliable. But if I’m headed to work, then I like a longwear foundation. The Dior Forever is really good, and I like the MAC Pro Longwear nourishing formula. They each have a color that works very well for me. I dot that on with a damp Beauty Blender so it’s still relatively sheer. I almost always wear eye makeup. I have virtually nonexistent eyelashes, so mascara is a must. My go-to lately is Lancome’s Monsieur Big. It’s like Too Faced’s Better Than Sex, but with a less clunky brush. Eyeshadows might be my favorite color product. I have palettes for days. Also Tom Ford just put out some glittery beauties via his Extreme line. I use a black liquid liner on top and a soft kohl or gel eyeliner on the bottom, like the one from Smashbox. For liquid, I’m fairly agnostic, but I do like the Lancome Artliner and Cle de Peau has one that has two different brush ends, thick and thin, which is nice. I might contour with CLE’s bronzy cushion compact; Charlotte Tilbury’s Bronze and Glow is good for days I’m on the oilier side because it’s a powder. I have a bunch of Chanel blushes in a variety of shades, and I’ll dust a tiny bit on just on the tops of my cheeks. For lips, I generally go for a lighter neutral color by day. The new Dior Lacquer Plump is so good—like a stain but not so drying. Brows take me the longest. Lately, I’ve been using two different pencils by Benefit. One has a wide, long tip and the other is very precise and made for drawing in hairs. I also am very into fragrance (obviously!). Since starting my line, Ellis Brooklyn, I pretty much only wear my own. I’m currently over the moon for our new Fawn scent. It’s neroli, coconut milk, amber, lily of the valley; it’s my highbrow-yet-delicious summer scent.

What’s your daily skincare routine? Lately, I start with Skinceuticals Replenishing Cleanser, which is gentle yet gets the job done. Then I’m big on the layering scene. I can always leave a layer off. If it’s pretty mild out, I might just stick to a hyaluronic-based serum. The Innisfree Intensive Rehydrating Serum is so good for the price. Skinceuticals also has a bunch of really great serums. If it’s harsh or dry out, I might layer a cream on. I love the Avene A-Oxitive line. I’m also a huge fan of the Avene Cicalfate Restorative Skin Cream when my skin is on the fritz. At night, I do the same cleanser situation but might also use the Klorane Waterproof Eye Makeup Remover. It’s super effective without being too oily. I’ll go back to the serum and then do an oil instead of a cream. I avoid silicones when I can at night. I think silicones are okay in moderation, but too many skincare products these days over-rely on them. Also, you really don’t need a silicone unless you’re out in the elements. I’ve been into the Elemis Superfoods Oil. Also, the Elemis Pro Collagen Eye Serum is so lovely and sinks in right away.

I’m also a big-time masker. I’m really loving the M-61 Fast Blast Facial Mask lately, which is like a blast of vitamin C in just 2 minutes. At night, I like the Glow Recipe Watermelon Sleeping Mask. If I’m not using the sleeping mask, there are a plethora of glycolic/lactic peeling options out there.

Age gracefully or filler and botox, please and thanks? Currently just aging but definitely considering filler and Botox. With the two kids and the fact I’m turning 37 this year, Mama looks tired. I also discovered all these tiny eye lines recently. It’s like they appeared out of nowhere.

What product do you buy in bulk? Aquaphor. I use it for my kids and myself. For awhile, I tried to eliminate all petroleum jelly and mineral oil from the products our family uses, but then my youngest had very bad eczema and Aquaphor, along with Mustela’s Stelatopia line, was the only thing that worked. I find it one of the best multi-use products, ever.

What’s your save-the-day hair product and why? I am so impressed with the Miriam Quevedo Glacial White Caviar Hydra-Pure Shampoo. After I had my second baby, my scalp would not stop itching. I literally tried everything from scalp masks to scrubs to sulfate-free, etc. This is the only thing that made my scalp stop itching. It’s super gentle, gets the job done, and has some sort of magic (albeit expensive magic) that rebalances your scalp’s flora.

I also really like the Briogeo Don’t Despair, Repair hair mask. It smells delicious and really does the job without weighing hair down too much.

Who is responsible for your hair – cut and color? I actually get my hair cuts all over New York. I’m constantly testing out different stylists for my New York Times work. My most recent cut is by Arsen Gurgov. It’s very good because he didn’t over-layer and it’s growing out well.The best cut I ever got, though, was by the master, Serge Normant. I currently don’t have my hair colored, but I am very tempted to go crazy blonde one day.

Best piece of beauty advice you’ve received? This one came from my mom: Don’t focus on being the most beautiful because there will always be someone more beautiful than you out there. Instead, make the most of what you have and then don’t think too much about it.

Who is your beauty icon, and why? Probably Francoise Hardy, but since I will never look like that — I’ve never been good at that effortless French look anyway — I’ve sort of given up on the whole beauty icon business. Instead, I sort of have my muses of the moment. I’m currently super into Fernanda Ly and also the Japanese model, Kozue Akimoto.

What’s your least favorite beauty trend/ look? The angry brow. It’s the one that’s most in your face lately. I’m actually very much in favor of a strong brow but I’ve been seeing so many pairs of angry brows on the subway. What may look decent on Instagram may just look scary in real life.

If you could only do one beauty treatment on the weekly, what would it be and why? A massage, hands down. It just re-centers everything and gets the blood going without doing a workout.

What’s your best kept beauty secret? If you want to keep breakouts at bay before a big event, drink a shot of aloe every morning. Don’t go for the sweetened stuff, go buy a big bottle of straight aloe juice from Whole Foods. The stuff is disgusting but I swear it works.

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— Bee Shapiro, founder of Ellis Brooklyn and New York Times writer.

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