#apostlc

[fourrarri]

@apostlc​  cont.  from  [ x ]

          💸 ║ ❛   —————  Oh,  that’s  new.  In  fact,  Lance  isn’t  aware  of  Miles  not  being  able  to  swim.  But  it’s  not  like  he  cares  too  much  about  it.  He  shouldn’t  be  SCARED  of  water,  he  should  be  scared  of  what  happens  when  he  says  no  to  this  date  idea.  Oh  no,  you  can’t  murder  people  for  the  sole  reason  of  not  wanting  to  go  on  a  date  with  you.  Right ?  But  what’s  gonna  stop  him ?  No,  Lance  has  an  agreement  with  himself  to  NOT  kill  Miles.  What  a  COMPLICATED  situation.

         ❝   Well..  that’s  why  we  gonna  be  on  a  yacht,  stupid.  We  ain’t  taking  a  swim  in  the  ocean.  But  okay.  I  read  you.  You  don’t  wanna  spend  time  with  me  and  that’s  cool,  totally  cool.  I’m  just  gonna  ask  somebody  else  and  you  can  spend  your  night  ALONE.  Since  that’s  so  much  better.   ❞  

[dashingdad]

MEME // ALWAYS ACCEPTING

@apostlc​ asked;

“ i know i’m not th' person you want, but i’m here. ”

           Not a day went by, where Ethan didn’t CURSE himself because of Miles. Standing at the doorway, arms crosses over his chest. Ethan watched as the other made his way across the street, ALWAYS just a phone call away. 

A weak sigh passed the fathers lips, already REGRETTING his decision in calling Miles, but if not him then ... WHO? Chris already knew where he was and that FACT made Ethan uneasy, then Mia. He let his eyes slide close, allowing himself a moment to collect the BROKEN pieces of himself before Miles could see. It seemed he was not the only one HIDING weeping wounds. 

Ethan no longer LOVED Mia, but a part of him still wished for that ... stability. She had been no better than Miles in the end, but at least her MANIPULATIONS allowed him to remain blind. Where Miles simply laid his walls bare. Making them the ONLY thing Ethan could see. It would seem Ethan had a TYPE.

A frown painted his features, suddenly feeling very ALONE. His arms uncrossing to become more like HUGGING himself. Listening as Miles spoke, making his way up the steps. Ethan hummed in response, moving so the other man could come inside. It would be a busy night of packing, picking up and MOVING Ethan’s life away from Chris’ gaze. The LONELINESS molded into frustration, as he followed the husk inside, “ You use to be. “

[soulcluster-moved]

@apostlc​ : ☣: A pet peeve about roleplaying

the highly formatted, very flowery prose, almost nonsensical replies that some blogs do. I don’t personally follow blogs like that because I can’t handle that nor would I know how to write a reply to it. looking over someone’s writing is absolutely something I do before I follow. not to mention that it just hurts my eyes and I can’t follow a damn thing.

personally, I think RP in general can lessen your writing skill if you’re not careful. like if you wanna write a short story or novel, it’s an entirely different thought process and approach to writing, at least for me. 

[sanguisvirginis-arch]

@apostlc​​   :   [  continued  from  ]

SILLY MANTHING and his mindless, incoherrent burble lady dimitrescu absendmindedly listened to whilst fetching a cigarette from the drawer of her vanity table. an indulgence that had quickly morphed into a compulsion despite her rotten lungs remaining unscathed by it. one could regard it as a quirk, a habit picked up when her temper flared up in moments like this. a man, and not just any man despite the crooked buttons on his shirt and the utterly dreary trousers he donned, walking these halls.

why, this was certainly a first at castle dimitrescu and not something alcina had anticipated from her oldest daughter. [ gone, the swarm of flies disappearing as soon as miles upshur had found his way into alcina's private study, leaving the poor soul to his misfortune. ]

❛❛ YOU ARE UTTERING NONSENSE, BOY, ❜❜ interjected alcina, the fountain pen dropped on the document splayed out on the mahogany desk and her gaze finally raised to meet his eyes. scrutinize the man in his entirety without deigning to move from her spot.  mara, mara, they, the thing that uses my body.

the lines around alcina's eyes crinkled into uncertainty, yet her hand gestured to the empty armchair positioned adjacent to the desk. ❛❛ take a seat. your condition - explain it to me. explain mara. ❜❜

[wclrider]

How do you kiss something without a solid form, ever changing? Not entirely sure, but he's trying. Soft peek on what counts as a cheek, maybe. Maybe. Hopefully?

𝙷𝙾𝚆   𝙳𝙸𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙲𝚄𝙻𝚃   𝙰   𝚃𝙰𝚂𝙺   𝚃𝙾   𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙺   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙴𝚁   𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁𝚂   𝙾𝙵   𝙰   𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼   𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂   𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶...    shifting   in   itself   and   curling   outwards,   a   mass   always   writhing,   always   moving   even   when   still.   and   yet,   what   solid   hush   does   fall   o’er   the   swarm   when   the   tenderness   of   lips   connect   with   cheekbone.   the   nanites   sparking   with   stimulation   and   immediately   cataloging   every   bit   of   sensory   detail   he   could   gather   of   such   a   gentle   thing.   a   turn   of   his   head,   not   abrupt   or   harsh.   if   eyes   could   be   seen   their   gaze   would   no   doubt   be   owlish   and   wanting.   the   way   that   static   does   lapse   in   its   eternal   song,   ne’er   knew   how   loud   it   could   grow   and   crescendo,   peaking   the   audio   of   any   camera   surely   ---   but   not   now.   not   here.   the   song   lulls   to   a   false   end,   little   consensus   could   be   scrabbled   together   in   the   buzz   and   excitement.  

𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝚂𝙾,   𝙸𝚃   𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂   𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙸𝚃   𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙽’𝚃   𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙴   𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴...    sure   of   the   answer   his   swarm   is   meant   to   reach,   the   creature   acts   without   a   sort   of   consensus.   moving   forth   and   pressing   the   maw   of   its   mass   along   cheek   and   jawline,   though   no   lips   were   to   be   seen,   the   nanites   make   quick   work   of   flooding   o’er   his   skin   and   adoring   every   portion   he   could.   the   feeling   of   thousands   of   lips   upon   him,   overlapping,   timid,   before   it   draws   back.   the   way   their   eyes   meet,   it   inquires   without   uttering   a   word   between   their   connection   :   𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃?

𝙸𝚃   𝙷𝙰𝚂   𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽   𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁’𝚂   𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴...    those   young,   dumb   kind.   who   scorched   a   trail   up   the   mountain   to   be   alone,   hand   in   hand,   kiss   and   bathe   in   the   warmth   of   the   light   and   heat   upon   his   rocks   and   mounds   of   grassy   plains   curled   ‘round   his   form.   he’s   seen   the   look   in   their   eyes,   the   adulation   there,   and   he   has   never   known   anything   like   it.   being   feared,   being   worshipped,   leaves   little   room   for   such   a   love.   something   coveted,   far   beyond   the   love   of   any   god   or   devil.   he   wanders   into   those   eyes   as   he   leans   in,   if   he   could   catch   a   glimpse   of   something   like   that.   if   he   ever   could   have   earned   such   a   right   in   all   their   time   bound   together,   tangled   tethers   fought   fiercely   for   a   time.   fore   common   ground   was   found   and   they   employed   ways   to   match   each   other’s   oppositions   with   some   kind   of   gentle   understanding.

[hereticalmother]

[continued from here]

@apostlc

Her touch softens at his words, intensity melting in a split second into something gentler. He's allowed a leniency that no one else is, allowed to make his own decisions if only due to his unique circumstances. She has a respect for him that she doesn't have for many. Besides… she recognizes that it isn't a 'no,' but a 'later.' She keeps close, presses her forehead to his.

"Later." She repeats, both to make her agreement clear, and to hold him to his promise. But… there's no rush. It's better when they're in tune, better when she matches his energy. She's satisfied with this. For now.

Her hand slips up from his backside, finds a place to rest against his lower back instead. There's a warmth in her touch, but no longer a fire.

"Bad day..?"

[enchairr]

@apostlc || continued from HERE.

     HE’D BE lying if he said it came entirely as a surprise. He does stop for a second to look at Miles, cigarette hanging from his lips and fingers tightened around his lighter. It lasts less than a second, then he cracks a smirk. “Heh. Y’got a point.”  A click, the explosion of light coming from the flame, spirals of smoke rising in the dimlight. Lighter sinking back inside his pocket, gone from this story for a little while.

     No, it doesn’t come much as a surprise. Sy doesn’t have some instinct to tell who’s human or isn’t, but he’d have to be an idiot to ignore certain details. The aftertaste of whatever slithered down his throat and made him puke black goo on the concrete - it’s still fresh on his tongue. And it doesn’t take a genius to realize that I don’t wanna get anyone hurt takes a whole new meaning in this case; in the same vein, it doesn’t take much to hear that Miles doesn’t want to talk about this topic extensively right now. Time to redirect the focus of the conversation a little bit, then.

     Not the smartest of the family; not a fool, either. 

     “Y’know what, though-” When Sy looks at Miles again, his eyes look different. Not too old, but older than his body - bound-to-be ancient. How long has he been in his twenties. How many thousands of cigarettes have dangled from the corner of his mouth like this. “Could say th’ same ‘bout me.”

[hebakes]

@apostlc cont from x

At first, he takes their silence as a blunt rejection, and even though he is fairly a confident guy, it does make him question himself, maybe using already used pickup lines is not a good idea, even for someone like him, or maybe they’re just straight, but then they finally give him a name, and his smile is back to where it has been, his turquoise orbs locking with theirs. ❝ Zak! ❞ His hand reaches out, offering them a handshake. ❝ Thanks for the chance~ ❞ He says jokingly, his smile growing a bit wider.