“Like two side to a coin, there are two sides to life: your reason and emotional facets.” ― Ami Blackwelder
Like two sides to a coin, you live and you die; you fall and you fly.
tracking headofacoin
help fund a trip?
There’s the faint sound of tires screeches echoing through his head and it pushes a groan from him even if he isn’t full conscience. There was a crash. He remembers that. He can picture the Jeep collapsing in on itself in odd places and there was someone else – there was someone in the car with him, but who…
ｂｅｅｐ．．． ｂｅｅｐ．．． ｂｅｅｐ
There’s something in his arm, but he doesn’t really care what it is. Not at the moment. Right now he’s focusing on opening his eyes and squinting against the harsh glare of the lights overhead. That was not a pleasant thing to look up at. There was another groan and he shifted in – where was he exactly? – the bed, a sharp pain trailing up his spine and curling around his torso. It was the worst in his legs though. Yeah, getting up was temporarily out of the question. He’d have to settle for turning his head to see what was going on – see who was breathing so damn loud.
ｂｅｅｐ．． ｂｅｅｐ．． ｂｅｅｐ
That was a familiar face. Images twitched in and out of focus. A birthday party when they were much younger, a reflection in a mirror in – his bedroom? is that where it was? There was the faint whisper of a name grasping at the corners of his mind, but it took a few more seconds for him to properly make it out. Even then, the only other word that followed it was twin.
“Hah, jokes on you, I already wax my entire body.” With the exception of his head, of course. It started off as a dare, but then he just kind of got into the freeness of it, and had sex with a lady who does it so he could get it done for free.
“Of fucking course you do.” There’s a light snort of amusement and then he’s leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and a grin clear on his face. He’s missed this kind of senseless banter. He’s missed Dorian. “I missed you too, shit head.” He never did say it earlier.
“I can’t hold my liquor. That’s, like, Dorian 101.” The weird longing he’s feeling is throwing him for a loop.
“Fair enough, but seriously. Touch my eyebrows and I’ll wax your entire body.” He’s only being half serious. Maybe he would only shave his head. At least it would divert a little attention away from him. It would give Carson more time to have his brother to himself. Theoretically speaking, anyway.
“Say another word about this and I, like, shave your eyebrows off. But I miss you.”
“– Shave my fucking eyebrows off and I dye my hair and make everyone think I’m you and make up some elaborate ass damn story about not being able to hold your liquor at a gay bar.” He totally missed you, too. He’s just a bit salty.
He’s belting out a song at the top of his lungs at 6 in the morning, still drunk from the night before.
If it hadn’t been this early in the morning there’s a chance Carson would have just laughed and let Dorian carry on drunkenly singing in whatever language that is now. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case and he is as far from being a morning person as one can possibly get.
“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I will break apart one of the razors and slit your god damn throat.”
I’m laughing because Dorian’s the one that gets laid more because he knows what to do, but he sounds like a valley girl and Carson actually has that smooth, light Texan accent that sounds lovely to the ear and the only ass he gets is Dorian and maybe, occasionally, possibly Xavier. This shouldn’t amuse me as much as it does.
Character in general: lol it’s fucking dorian. How they play them: lol it’s fucking dannie writing dorian. The Mun: lol it’s fucking dannie. she’s like… all time crush material lbr
Do I:
RP with them: not as much as i’d like to. Want to RP with them: this is a stupid fucking question. of course i do.
What is my;
Overall Opinion: Can you move me out to Wales so I can cook for you ( attempt to, anyway ) and just support you like some weird friend life partner or something and wake you up in the middle of the night with soul crushing feelings or things that will make you snort so hard from laughing that you pee?
**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty
“Promises, promises,” he says, sounding utterly debauched so early in the game. Thoughts of hot liquid and metallic kisses flood his mind, of sharp pains that lead to burning desire. There’s nothing cool about this; their body heat has mixed and risen until they’re nothing but fire upon fire. A whine breaks from his bloodstained lips ( and how pretty he must look, eyes hooded and lips like fine wine, laid out for his brother like some golden prize ), and his hands grasp for any kind of hold.
One goes to his brother’s hair, his fingers digging tightly like he never wants to let go, and the other rests lightly on the hand on his wound. He doesn’t want to interfere with what Carson’s doing, but he wants a part of it.
He, at the very least, wants to be involved in his own destruction.
& the color staining his brother’s previously unmarked flesh is absolutely stunning in only a way scarlet on porcelain could be. It’s stunning in a way that brings one sound or another rising in Carson’s throat as his attention shifts between the torn skin and the ever more present wrecked expression on his brother’s face. He is going to absolutely shatter him: bone by fucking bone. There will be no room for mercy and no distinguished line between lust and love – want and pure, unadulterated need. His fingers spread the blood over his twin’s ribs and it paints such a demented picture that he can’t help the laughter from bubbling over. It’s amazing that it doesn’t sound borderline hysterical seeing as this is absolutely
Ｉ Ｎ Ｓ Ａ Ｎ Ｅ.
Yet, it’s turning him on in a way that it shouldn’t. Even as his fingers make a path back down his brother’s side until his nails are digging into the open cut, spreading it further than the razor blade originally had only moments before. The feeling brought an off kilter smile to his face, his lips pressing to his brother’s once more before trailing along his jaw line. Oh, what a pretty image that would be. A blood colored smile smeared across a reflection in a way that should have horrified any normal human being. Strange what
ᴄᴏᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄʏ﹐ ʟᴜsᴛ ﹠ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ
can drive a person to. There’s something sort of a sigh pressing from his lungs and he knows he’s going to destroy him brother. He knows he’s going to completely devastate himself. He knows and he’s still fucking digging his nails into the cut as if it were a personal offense that deserved to be pulled at even if he had been the one to put it there in the first place – even if the extra blood pooling from it is sending Carson’s mind into a frenzy & leaving his body in not much better of a state. Oh, he should not be turned on by this. He shouldn’t and yet, here we are.
He shouldn’t be here. He can’t do this. He needs to leave. He should have left a long time ago. There isn’t anything stopping him. There never was, so what’s stopping him? Why hasn’t he just left yet? That’s an easy enough answer even if he can’t bring himself to admit it anymore: Dorian.
Dorian was the only thing keeping him here. Dorian was the reason he needed to leave.
He’s been going over it in his head for the last hour now. He’s been pacing and pacing and pacing. He’s only stopped to start shoving things into a bag sloppily. He could just take the Jeep and go. He should go. The only thing stopping him…
Well the only thing stopping him is the person that’s he apparently managed to wake up in his process of trying to leave. “Dorian, go the fuck back to sleep you stupid cunt. You aren’t supposed to wake up.“ He’s not sure if he can leave if you start talking. That’s why he planned to leave before you got up.
