#thisthinskin

[morningsmead-blog]

@thisthinskin

Well, now this was a first. Since coming to Ashbourne, Allison had run into all sorts of creatures in these woods – spirits, Weeping Women, vampires, you name it, she’s probably seen it. What she didn’t expect to ever see out here was a man, just casually wandering around completely nude. Deliberately keeping her eyes up, she started to head in his direction. Maybe he was new? Maybe the woods were bored and had started raiding nearby ponds? Really, who knew how the trees made their decisions. As she got closer, she realised he wasn’t a newcomer. Wracking her brain, she tried to place him or his name but kept coming up blank. Oh well – surely he would have noticed her by now. She hadn’t exactly been trying to keep quiet. “You know, wandering naked is the best way to get poison ivy in all those hard to reach spots.”

[thiskryptonite]

tw: drug use // @thisthinskin

August was taking the night in strides, his clothes weren’t exactly up to par with what some people were wearing, but then again, he was pretty sure he saw more than a few people strolling in wearing a lot less than everyone else. There was a charge in the air as music hummed from within, August could feel a smile tugging at the back of his mind somewhere - a party - it was probably the exact opposite thing Trillium’s Regent had told August to do but the witch wouldn’t be content hiding under some rock. 

Besides, this was a chance to unwind. He wasn’t really sure what this Gabriel St. August was in to, but he was sure that the man he was hoping that the man he’d matched on the app with wasn’t someone who’d been quietly pining away for the perfect fit. 

August sighed. “Gabe” was late. This was bullshit, he’d already made idle chit chat with a couple people who had seen him and wondered what he was doing -but it was free if you went in together- August’s hand reached into his pocket and he pulled out the joint he’d rolled in advance of this. His date had until this was over before August was going to head in. There was no way the witch was going in sober. 

He sparked up and smiled at his good luck before he took a drag, his hand extended easily and his eyebrow quirked. “Gabe?”

[percystone-blog1]

Percy was late. It shouldn’t have really been a surprise that she was late. She had decided to go back to Hart’s place after work to change and take a shower, and getting from Hart’s place (she still wasn’t quite sure if she was ready to call it ‘home’ yet, but she was getting there), back out to town, not getting lost on the way there, and showing up on time were definitely asking way too much of Percy. She was surprised that she had even remembered her wallet and to put on shoes, since she’d been kicking herself since she’d made plans with Gabe in the first place.

Why had she said date? Sure, it was just an expression, but it had also made her feel awkward and she was honestly lucky that the rush of customers had prevented her from sending thirty texts in a row correcting the mistake. 

Instead, she let it go, because it wasn’t as if Gabe had seemed weirded out by the simple mistake, so it didn’t need to be a thing. They were getting burgers, not going for a long romantic walk in the moonlight or some shit. Percy was freaking out over nothing. She was pretty damn good at that, apparently. The fact that anyone thought she was a level-headed human being was astonishing.

It was nearly six when she finally managed to get to the designated meeting place and Percy was pretty sure she looked frazzled when she managed to get there. She didn’t like being late, and she was almost worried that Gabe had probably gotten tired of waiting for her and left. When she spotted the familiar looking head of hair, though, she let out a soft sigh of relief, slowing her pace a bit and jogging over to give him a little nudge on the arm. “Hey, sorry. I got kinda lost. Which is stupid since I’m the one who suggested this place to begin with, but what can I say, I’m terrible at directions.”

@thisthinskin

[charlottexcrane-blog]

@fleurchenery ;; @augustxknight ;; @ezekielxhartxurquhart ;; @thisthinskin ;; @finnblackthorne ;; @selenebellona ;; @celestexvogel ;; @valeriavcle ;; @viv-adair ;; @txliabites​ ;; @bridget-fagan

[hadleyxbowen-blog]

@thisthinskin

Hadley had not thought out her footwear with enough consciousness regarding longevity. She was a girl used to flying or traveling in well worn sneakers. The heels she was currently donning weren’t even the biggest ones she’d seen in the store but god fucking damn....feet were not meant to be contorted like this. With a freshly procured drink, the biggest one on the menu...she’d definitely made certain of it....she made a slightly pained dash towards a cushy couch in what was called the snuggle corner.

The....snuggle corner? Fucking seriously? Where the hell was the “looking for the quick spicy hook up and no exchange of names” corner?

Hadley was relieved to see that there was not a couple currently utilizing the couch. Instead a lone male stretched out...and oh fuck if he was as blazed as he looked she was highly jealous. Her legs were giving out and she half slid against the arm of the couch and gave a plaintive tap to the male’s feet. “Hey...make room for strangers. It’s rude to be a couch hog. Also...if you’re as high as I think you are please for the love of god tell me you’ve got some more and you’re willing to share?”

[peterwolfboylopez]

Get Dunked On, Kid

“Hey, mutt.” 

Peter let out a snort, hands digging a little more deeply into his pockets as he twisted on his heel to face the man that had blocked the other end of the alley. It was a pretty out of the way street, Peter would give him that, and the fact that the street lights seemed to be flickering and ready to die didn’t much surprise him, either. He’d been listening to the footsteps following him since he’d left Pandemonium. He’d felt the eyes on him from his corner of the room, and he’d let them linger. He had known that someone was watching him, which was a strange thing to do in a strip club where the main attraction should have been the half naked bodies all over the place.

So he had made it as casual as possible when he walked out. He’d sensed the man following him. He’d let him, had deliberately led him out of the way, waited for him to make the first move.

“You waited a solid ten minutes before you said anything. Impressive. I assume you’re here to kill me?” 

The hunter didn’t seem interested in talking much, though, as he moved closer, and a flash in his hand caught Peter’s eye. Knife, likely a silver blade, since the hunter seemed well aware of what he was dealing with. Peter lifted his hands in surrender, slight smirk on his face as he watched the man move closer. He followed those movements, even as the beast seemed content to let a vicious growl rumble in his chest. A warning. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been waiting for this. Craving this. Wanting this.

Still, his baser instincts told him to fight, to knock this idiot out cold and run. To survive. Before he had a chance to really consider his next move, the hunter had him back against the bricks and was hovering that knife dangerously close to his neck. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and instinct had a snarl ripping from his mouth before he could stop it, which seemed to aggravate the hunter, and the knife met his neck, searing the flesh, causing a hiss to come out through his teeth even as he reached up to grab the man’s wrist. Fuck, that hurt. 

“Any last words?”

Through gritted teeth, Peter managed to get out a few. “Just do it, mother fucker.”

@thisthinskin

[samsonfrisk-blog]

it’s never too late for a bear claw

@thisthinskin

There were days when Samson would wake up before the sun, walk to work, and spend hours baking. That is when he felt his best, up to the elbows in flour and sugar and cinnamon. Of course, eventually he had to open the bakery as well, which wasn’t too difficult since the owner was often in to help. But that was when the Customer Service Samson would take over, all smiles and warmth and energy he didn’t really have. So when the time came to close up shop and evaluate the stock, he felt like a million pounds were lifted from his shoulders.

Sometimes he would stay late, even past the owner on the days they were there, and just bake. This was his time to experiment, without worrying about getting the days goods into the oven. Closing up the front of the shop, he would prep what he could for the next day before letting his creativity take root in the small kitchen. More often than not, he had to crack the back door open to let out the hot air, having multiple ovens firing off at once. He’d keep the chain in the door, the wind catching it and pulling it taught with a soft bang every now and then.

Tonight, he was making bear claws. Sure, there were the classics. Apple, cherry, strawberry. But he also worked on a peach cobbler filling, and a custard rhubarb filling, all wrapped in the flaky dough and cut to fit the name of the dessert. He almost laughed at the irony, but he’d made the joke enough times to himself that he let it go with a soft chuckle, head bobbing to the low hum of music he had playing from his phone on the shelf above the counter. He could feel the stress of the day rolling off his shoulders as the first set came out of the oven, the sweet smell of melted sugar crystals making him smile.

Setting the fresh batch of pastries into a cooling rack, he lathered the next in an egg wash and sprinkled sugar across the top before popping it into the oven as well. Finally, he got to work on another batch of dough, wondering just what type of filling he should try next.

[ashfilledsoul-blog]

Under the Hood

@thisthinskin

Ashley didn’t give herself a lot of material belongings. Knives and cars had always been the only things she liked to collect. Of course when Ashbourne had gotten in her way she’d been car-less, and she’d expected that in such a small town there would be no vehicles. Yet it seemed like in this town bits and pieces of the outside world made their way in as frequently as the townsfolk themselves. Of course most of the good cars got swallowed up by Ashbourne leaders. Politics came with perks, it seemed, no matter how withdrawn from the outside world you were.

This gorgeous 1956 Chevy Bel Air wouldn’t be missed though, of that she was certain.  Ash had pilfered it without a worry in the world, and every time she got behind the wheel and heard the engine purr it made her feel just the tiniest bit like her old self. It was probably that the previous owner didn’t drive it often, and didn’t get it checked out, which was why Ash found herself heading over to Mac’s Auto. She was certain the breaks needed some work, it probably needed an oil change, and it never hurt to get the engine checked. Ash dabbled with minor repairs herself but was not too proud to check with professionals.

Besides, Gabriel was enjoyably conservative when it came to conversation. He didn’t always work the night shift, but she was glad to see him as she pulled into the otherwise empty auto shop, gleaming proudly as she rolled down the window and leaned halfway out. “Like my new wheels? Had one like this back in the 50′s but I lost it in a bet. I figured I wouldn’t have to twist your arm too hard to get you to take a look under the hood and see what she needs.”

[deputymara-blog]

“10-10 outside Raised Hackles. Suspects both appear to be one of Ulrich’s,” dispatch crackled over the radio tucked into her belt as Xiomara stood in line for coffee. She let out a string of swears as she abandoned her place in the line immediately heading for her car. Five minutes later she was standing outside the damn bar as a small crowd surrounded a literal bloodbath. Mara had to wonder why people were so damn morbidly curious that they could just stand around while two werewolves tore into each other like it was their damn job. 

Keeping one hand securely on her dart gun and the other on the baton, she pushed forward through the crowd until she stood just a few feet from the chaos. “Okay,” she shouted to draw the attention of the two wolves. She recognized the scent of one as Gabriel St. August, a regular in the Watch Station cells, but the other was unfamiliar. Probably some new werewolf foolish enough to join the Ulrich pack. “We can do this the easy way in which we all take a nice trip down to the station to cool off for a bit,” she attempted to give a reassuring smile. “Or we can do this the hard way and I pump you both full of enough wolfsbane to knock you out and I have to drag your asses to a cell myself.” 

Mara caught a few snickers from the crowd, but she never let her eye off the two wolves who seemed to be just a moment more from tearing back into each other. “Your fucking choice,” she sighed melodramatically. She hoped that the two would make it easy on her and go with option one, but she had a feeling that the latter was more likely. The urge to walk into the bar and grab a shot of whiskey was strong as she stared down the fighters, waiting for either acceptance or refusal to cooperate. 

@thisthinskin

[wolf-celeste-blog]

She wished they’d stop setting her up against humans. It was just fine when she was one herself—an even match was an even match—but now that she was a wolf (even a young, weak, inexperienced one) it just seemed pointless and cruel. The public didn’t seem to mind, though; they were here for blood and now that she was a fan favorite, most of them seemed to prefer that she be the one to do the spilling. Celeste chugged down the rest of her water and tossed the bottle aside before stepping into the bright light of the ring and waving to the cheering crowd. Her heart wasn’t in it, not like it used to be, but it wasn’t like they could tell. Most couldn’t even appreciate the artistry of a fair fight.

              Celeste eyed her opponent, a stocky man, short hair, mid-thirties, armed with a machete. He was a new face, not just at the Pit, but in Ashbourne in general. Probably hadn’t been here long, only a month or so. Either that or she’d been too wrapped up in her own personal troubles to notice him before. She grimaced—the Kinion compound was great for many things but staying on top of the news was not one of them. It would do her well to stop relying on her pack for a sense of safety.

              The bell rung and Celeste let out a low growl, pushing such thoughts from her head as she circled Buzzcut. Even though she was certain she’d win, he was the only one who was armed, and it would be better to let him make the first move. This was what she loved about fights, the way her mind quieted in the face of violence. Buzzcut lunged at her and she deftly stepped out of the way and swept her leg under his feet, laughing as he stumbled. He slashed at her and she dodged again, ducking and weaving to make him do the work, let him wear himself out. The body was its own worst enemy.

              When she finally let him connect—and she did let him, despite what it might have looked like to outsiders—it was a decent blow, almost cutting her arm to the bone. The smell of blood made her eyes and mind sharpen, even though it was her own. When he raised the weapon again, she caught it, bare-handed, and kneed him in the stomach as she twisted, wrenching the weapon from his hands with a grunt and tossing it into the crowd. In the back of her mind, she could hear them cheering for her, as they should. Buzzcut used the moment to lunge for her again and this time he got a hold of her bad shoulder, fingers pressing in to her old bullet scar and, for the first time in a long, long while, Celeste screamed in pain.

              That should have been off-limits, she thought, stupidly, frantically. Everything about her past should have been off-limits. So, she did what she always did when the past came up: she pictured the full moon, its silvery glow bathing her in a beautiful offer of mindlessness, of giving up control to what lay within. This time, however, more than just picturing her transformation, it actually happened. Celeste fell to the dirt floor as her knees broke backwards, head lolling to one side as she felt the wolf bursting within her. She hadn’t been able to make this happen at any other time, not in the hundreds of hours she’d spent practicing, but the adrenaline of the fight mixed with the flashbacks in just the right—wrong?—way that let it happen now.

              The last thing Celeste remembered before thick unconsciousness enveloped her was the look on Buzzcut’s face, a mask of horror and disbelief. This must have been the first time he’d seen something like this and it pleased her greatly to have caused such a reaction. She wanted more than that, though—she wanted to kill—and hoped her wolf side felt the same. The man’s face took on the features of her father and Celeste sank into her empty, rageful void. No thoughts—just blood.

@thisthinskin

[percystone-blog1]

It was a boring day. Excessively so. Sure, it was raining out, but when did that stop the zombie coffee addicts from shuffling into the shop to get their fix? Well, it seemed that today was that day. She could have complained about it, loudly, and maybe even gotten sent home early, but the quiet was nice and it gave her an excuse to tinker on the piano sat in the corner of the room, occasionally reaching up from the keys where she played to scribble something on the overused sheet music sitting there.

She had written and re-written a phrase, at least ten times, when she heard the door open and she let out a soft groan, immediately standing and stretching her back to head to the counter and take an order. Sure, she’d been complaining about how empty it was. Didn’t mean she wanted someone to actually come in.

As she made it to the little register, though, her eyes lit up a bit, and the smirk on her face was almost too quick. “Well, well, as I live and breathe.” She mocked swooning, fanning herself. “Gabriel.” If it were possible to get her voice any more breathy, she would have been surprised. “To what do I owe this absolutely pleasure? Have you simply come to brighten my day from this terrible gloom? I am absolutely honored.” 

She barely made it through her sentence before she snorted out a laugh, already grabbing for a cup. “Did you want the usual?”

@thisthinskin

[peterwolfboylopez]

Walking home from work always tended to be a bit of a hassle. The streets were constantly bustling, people paying no mind to anyone but themselves, perhaps their companion if they had one, but Peter found himself twisting and ducking out of the way of them more often than not. The entire process was enough to spike his anger, cause his eye to twitch. He could have grabbed two or three of these rude people and tossed them down an alley as he walked. His hand twitched at his side at the thought. The mutt liked that idea, it would seem.

The mutt was always itching for a fight.

He reminded himself, however, that he was not that man, and that hurting random civilians on the street was a surefire way to have him thrown into a cell. Not his idea of a fun night.

However, that anger spiked yet again when he felt his shoulder get checked and he actually let out a growl (he could unpack that horror later) as he rounded on the offender, eyebrow lifting when he realized exactly who it was. Eyes narrowing, he offered a humorless chuckle. “I thought there were leash laws in this town, must have been wrong if they’re letting you roam around free.” 

@thisthinskin

[thiskryptonite]

@thisthinskin

He’d waited, that’s what you were supposed to do - right? How many days was it you were supposed to go before calling someone after a date? Was it even a date? August wasn’t sure, he’d spent a few slower afternoons following the Valentine’s Day disaster wondering just that. Gabe had his number, but, there was nothing. It was silly to expect otherwise, he realized, neither one of them had been taking the night all that seriously, and then weird shit happened. They swapped bodies, swapped back, and then Gabe took off his jacket and went running into the woods. 

Was it weird for August to show up at his work? Whatever. The only thing he felt weird about was how the whole night had gone down. He’d enjoyed getting to -sort of- know someone who, for once, wasn’t knocking on the mortuary looking for a dead body, or dead body parts, or some spell, or some sacrifice or some something. 

So, what did August know about Gabe? He was Canadian, he liked to skate - and he did so well. He knew that Gabe was apparently into card tricks, but walking up on someone and doing close-up magic was also strange. Nothing really added up into anything, and what did it matter anyways? It shouldn’t, but just the same August found himself at the bakery, he picked out a few small treats and had the box packed up.  He knew where Gabe worked, so the garage was where the witch went next, he managed past the individual that passed as front desk before he saw someone familiar under the hood of a car. 

“Hey,” August greeted, smiling, the small white box was held easily in his hands, the bakery label sealing the parcel shut. He could smell the faint aroma of maple through the box, even now. There were four bacon-maple macaroons within. “I was in the area,” that was a lie, “thought maybe you might be in need of a break?” This was a bad idea.

[percystone-blog1]

It was actually happening. She had gotten all of her paperwork in order, she had put down the first month’s rent, and now... Percy was a business owner. Terrifying, absolutely, but the excitement was bubbling in her stomach as she spoke over the phone with the person leasing the building. She’d been pacing her room for almost an hour waiting for the call, and when it had finally come through, opening her mouth to speak had been difficult, but she had managed. The call was now coming to a close, and all she could do was say ‘thank you’ on some kind of endless loop until she finally hung up.

“HART!”

She flew out of her room, down the stairs. “I got it! I got the building!” As she rounded the corner, she found herself coming nearly face to chest with... not Hart. Definitely not Hart, but when she looked up and realized who was here, it was just as good. “Gabe! I got it! I got the building! I’m going to be a business owner!” Without much thought, Percy threw her arms around the man’s neck, too excited, too overwhelmed with relief to stop herself. After a moment, she pulled back again, quickly cleared her throat. “Hey, by the way. What’re you doing here?”

@thisthinskin

[thiskryptonite]

A Brief Summary of August At the ‘My Bloody Valentine’ event

Date: Gabriel St. August @thisthinskin​ Entrance: August and Gabriel will enter together, however Gabe will be late and the witch will be waiting outside for a period of time. Both are there to have a good time and don’t intend to take the evening seriously. Attire: Forever casual, August is wearing a sweater that appears to be paint splattered, paired with a jean jacket and black jeans.  Trigger Warning: Alcohol & Drug Use, Violence, and Sexual Themes

Events August will be attending:

PLATONIC EVENTS

ROSÉ WINE TASTING *

BALLROOM DANCE LESSON 

DINNER SHOW WITH LIVE MUSIC *

GUESS HOW MANY CANDY HEARTS ARE IN A JAR TO WIN A PRIZE *

VALENTINE CARD MAKING STATION * @fangbites​

ROMANTIC MOVIE TRIVIA *

RELAXING SINGLES MASSAGE *

ROMANTIC EVENTS

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN *

BAR STATION *

APHRODISIAC POPPERS *

DANCE CLUB ROOM *

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE *