#The change of venue probably made a difference too

[rosesnbooks]

Taurus placements🍃

💚Sun in taurus-i believe that they have one thing in common: they have hobbies that fulfill them. you won't catch them overworking themselves to the point that they do not take a break to do something they love. they are good at different things as well and are often fast learners. no matter what other placements they have, i think they have a pretty approachable nature. i have met people with this placement who are quite intelligent. i think they are a bit impatient at times and want to do things their own way, and it's up to you whether that offends you or not lol. loving and sensitive people at their core<3

💚Moon in taurus-some of the warmest people you will ever meet. they value the people in their lives and they are often a voice of reason when you need it the most. they know how to pay attention to you and converse with you respectfully, even when you disagree on things. they have specific worldviews that are difficult to change, but if they think you're sensible and kind, they may try to change their perspective. that being said, in any other scenario, good luck changing their mind. they're pretty chill most of the time, so when you provoke a strong reaction out of them, you probably made a huge mistake (good luck). they're also soft honestly, but do not be mistaken, they are strong people. i have noticed that they are usually closer to their mums than dads, and their dads have a distant character. main love language: acts of service<3

💚Ascendant/rising in taurus- um, stunning and magnetic. this is well-known though, but they deserve to hear it every time. they are charming and the women give off girl-next-door vibes. i feel like they all share similar eyes, just google the celebs and you'll see what i mean, just a warm look overall. some may appear intense, depending on their other placements, but as soon as you talk to them it feels like you're talking to a friend. oh and the elegance some of them have? amazing. intelligent as well🙏

💚Mercury in taurus-i have to say, i did not expect them to be so talkative. they are a bit shy when talking to new people or those they do not feel that comfortable with, but as soon as they relax with someone, they are yappers lol. when they like a topic, it's possible they have given it a lot of thought so they have a lot to say. similarly to aries mercury, they have strong opinions but they can be more open-minded when they want to. they can sound too objective sometimes, and give a bit harsh advice. they also love to gossip, sometimes even too loud when they're into it. to me, they have a specific voice, it kind of stands out among others. some men with this placement are known for having a really nice voice

💚Venus in taurus-they adore the idea of love. you'll catch them watching rom-coms every once in a while so they could satisfy that part of them. if they don't show their romantic side when they're with you, you're wasting your time cause they're clearly not that into you. they want you to share some of their interests, possibly because they want to spend even more time with you and feel like you get each other. i think they can also be guilty of idealising their partners a lot and create an image of their persona that's not real. one of their main love languages is gift giving, heavy emphasis on this.

💚Mars in taurus-intimidating when you cross them. they are pretty good at going after what they want and although they experience a lot of stress until they achieve things, they still excel at it. they may hide their frustrations pretty well, and then when they're alone or with people they can be themselves with, lmao they let out so many emotions. at this point i'm even ashamed to describe them as "stubborn" because that's their middle name, everyone knows it. out of all the placements i feel like they lean the most toward conservative views? do let me know if im on the right track here. they also need to watch out for being insensitive at times

💚Jupiter in taurus-i'll have to be brief here (sorry) because i don't know anyone with this placement, but only what i've read over the years. they usually have a good eye for aesthetics and appreciate following one themselves, they know how to cook and in general provide a sense of a comfortable home. they are good with all things material, and they are quite sensual. they know how to enjoy life and use their sensibility and charm to succeed, and get far in life. i respect them tbh!

💚Saturn in taurus-it isn't easy for them to focus on the material world and focus on what's right in front of them. they're often in their daydreams and are quite capable people, but they need a push sometimes to actually start doing things (khm procrastinators) that does not mean they are irresponsible, but they experience difficulties with the worldly expectations (hope this makes sense). they are sensible and wise, but the part that requires to act on it can sometimes shut down🫂i've read this many times and can confirm it since i have this placement: scared of losing things-property/money/land, you name it. lastly, they just understand how people function and they are wise!

thank you for reading this, hun! i would love to hear your feedback💌

[bxtxnx]

why do you bring yourself down?

Planets in a square or opposition to your ascendant can have you feeling and thinking negative about your appearance for different reasons. Conjunctions can go either way – they can bring out either the positives or the negatives of the planet.

☉ The Sun in a conjunction, square or opposition to the ascendant can make you lack pride in your appearance. You can lack pride and confidence in the way you look and you bring down the things you do with your appearance, always thinking that you’ve picked out the wrong hairstyle or worn the wrong outfit. You are your own biggest enemy and no one can criticize and hate on your appearance better than you. Your father could have contributed to your negative self-esteem.

☾ The Moon forming a conjunction, square or opposition to the ascendant can have you constantly changing your opinion about your appearance. Just like the phases of the Moon, your self esteem is fluctuating. You can often feel sad or angry about the way you look and any negative moods or emotions seem to harm your self esteem more. You are either feeling like you are way too soft and feminine or that your are not soft and feminine enough. Your mother or a family member may be the one that is bashing and bringing your appearance down.

☿ Mercury squaring, opposing or conjoining the ascendant can have you have a bad opinion or think negatively about your appearance. You can overanalyze and even make an entire list of all your flaws. This placement is most likely to make you actually say your negative thoughts out loud and share with other people what you don't like about yourself. You might have some questionable ideas what to do with your appearance which results in bad results, like a haircut that doesn't suit you in the least bit. You are most likely to have dealt with siblings or classmates mocking your looks.

♀ Venus in a square, opposition or conjunction with your ascendant makes you unappreciative of yourself. You don't value your appearance enough, even if you are objectively attractive and everyone around you seems to think so. Your personal taste in clothes and accessories might be off, which makes you pick out ugly things or just things that don't flatter you. You put yourself down because of your features or your weight. Being too feminine or not feminine enough can have you disliking the way you look. Women that you do or do not know or your partners are the ones to put your appearance down.

♂ Mars conjoining, squaring or opposing your ascendant can make you give yourself scars by getting into accidents or scarring your skin with your own two hands by picking at any pimples or blemishes, which causes you to get angry at your appearance every time you look at yourself in the mirror. You may even go as far as hating your appearance and thinking that only surgical intervention will be able to help you. You dislike yourself because of your scars or redness/inflamation of your skin or because you look either too masculine or not masculine enough. Your weight is also a source of frustration, because you may not like the way your body looks. If anyone has made you feel upset about your appearance, it most probably has been a man.

♃ Jupiter in a conjunction, square or opposition to your ascendant can have you disliking features that you have based on your ethnicity. Certain beliefs that society has about beauty can have you disliking your appearance - if society around you considers fair skin to be beautiful and you have olive skin, you end up disliking your skin tone. You just don't hold the belief that you are beautiful. Jupiter in such an aspect can give you features that seem too prominent for you, which you end up disliking. If you are very tall - you dislike your height, if you have big thighs - you can't stand looking at them, if you have a big nose - you hate it. Your disdain for something about your appearance could have been triggered by a comment a teacher of yours has made.

♄ Saturn could have made you hate how you look more mature for your age, if it squares, opposes or conjoins your ascendant. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you may think that you look too solemn. You have a general disdain for your appearance and it takes a long, long time before you find something about yourself that you like and appreciate. You have a particular problem with your appearance, based on the sign Saturn is in, which has a negative effect on your appearance that you see as a flaw, it can even cause depression. Older people can easily have you feeling upset over your appearance.

♅ Uranus can give you something very unusual in your appearance which you dislike, when it's in a conjunction, square or opposition to your ascendant. You may be upset that your features aren't very symmetrical or you may have a more androgynous look which you dislike. You dislike something that makes you stand out from others way too much like a very unusual birth mark. You may take too big risks with your style and apperance which instead of making you look unique make you look like a clown in the eyes of some people. You may have friends that have made fun of your apperance and have cause you to look down on it.

♆ Neptune can give you a signature sad look that you dislike when it's in a conjunction, square or opposition to your ascendant. You often feel sad or even depressed about the way you look. You may delude yourself about what looks good on you. You feel down about your appearance because you think that you lack something - your lips aren't plump enough, your eyes aren't big enough or anything similar. Your own emotions are the enemy that puts you down, because being sad or mad about anything unrelated makes you feel bad about the way you look when you look in the mirror.

♇ Pluto in a conjunction, square or opposition to your ascendant can have you experience huge crisis with your appearance - you may fall into deep depression over the way you look or you may experience a big problem with your appearance that makes you feel awful about it. Making huge changes to your apperance also has you feeling upset, because you can't accept the change and you think it makes you look bad. Traumatic events can alter the way you see yourself and have you look down on yourself. ☽

[tannieastrology]

Solar Return Observations💋❤️🌹

💋This year I have a Virgo Ascendant in my solar return along with 2 Venus returns and Ive been so much more health/beauty focused. Like I care more about myself and am trying to break bad habits that I made in 2023. Im also alot more driven in sports/goals and back when I had this in 2020 I was also into skincare and makeup alot too and was into running and working out. I feel like the year you get a virgo ascendant for your solar return is the year to cleanse bad habits that youve made in the previous year its like a chance to start new.

💋The year you have Uranus in the 11th house is most likely a year where you will lose friends but will also get the chance to make new ones. I had Uranus and North Node in my 11th house last year and my 3 year long friend who claimed we were “besties” backstabbed me and cut me off with no explanation BUT I also found a friendgroup who are here to stay and am incredibely blessed to have met them. This was a year where my view on society and people changed significantly but i feel it was for the better.

💋Last year I had Sun and Pluto in the 8th house along with Moon and Mars in the 12th. I struggled really bad with my mental health(also a Gemini Rising) and my whole personality shifted from these experiences. From January my grandma almost died of cancer, I faced unrequited love, bullying from “friends”, losing friends, and overall felt pressure from school. I was just sensitive to what people said about me and let little things bother me and now that Im looking back none of it was a big deal but I dont know in the moment it affected me way too much. It made me realize that you cant ever really put your faith in people and that you need to trust and respect yourself the most. That you cant be attached to people and your faith should be put in god (atleast thats what I think). Most of the pain came from lowself esteem and I do believe that these placements made me grow a thicker skin and to become more independant. Im a completely different person now and while I did lose my innocence to the world I feel that I can survive on my own now. I guess I just grew a backbone which im really thankful for.

💋Everything that happened last year (like growth transformation death) is all related to the 8th house which is where gemini is in my natal so also keep that in mind where your solar ascendant falls in your natal.

💋This year I have a Moon in Libra in the 1st house and a Virgo Lilith exactly conjunct my ascendant and Ive been getting so much praise from woman its weird? Weirdly guys have been liking my instagram stories and when I posted on my birthday so many people came and viewed my story who dont even follow me. I also feel more pretty and empowered this year and Ive been trying to figure out how I want to present myself more. Compared to last year I feel like I am more upfront with my feelings. I feel like this year I might not struggle as much since im a Libra Ascendant and my solar return is Virgo and almost aligns with my natal chart.

💋My sadness and pain from my 2023 solar return actually really did last until my birthday aka my 2024 return😭 So keep in note that solar returns will remain effective until your next birthday.

💋I have Pluto, Mars, Sun, Vertex, Mercury, and POF, all in the 5th house this year and Im really hoping I can finally meet someone to date for the first time but so far its manifested as being more interested in hobbies/ having fun. Im not complaining tho I actually have been so much happier and I havent cried that much at all from this new Solar Return. I will say I feel like having Pluto in the 5th house will make your view change a bit on relationships. I lost feelings for my 3 year crush and I also feel like its impossible for me to properly catch feelings now. I dont know its like I broke the cycle of infatuting crushes and am way more realistic when it comes to love. Part of it is probably just me getting older but I think thats a good thing. I dont expect love like the movies anymore but i just want something REAL.

💋The year you have 8th house Venus a old flame might come back into your life.

💋Tell me why I have Jupiter, North Node, and Chiron in the 8th house this year and ive been attracting money/all the things i want so easily? I got almost $450 for my birthday, a vanity, a lulu bag, and a big party and its only been like 2 weeks😭

💋 When I turn 18 in 2026 I have a stellium of Venus, Mercury, Sun, Mars, and Pluto in the 12th SOOO im predicting that I might be struggling with mental health that year, probably lost in where I want to head after high school, or Im either hiding sum secret love affair(8th house ruler of libra in 12) or like something about it is forbidden/ secretive. I also do have Moon and Jupiter in Cancer in the 5th house that year so that should be interesting lol. Let me know what aspects/ placements in your future solar returns yall find interesting and have down in the comments I wanna see.

💋A Saggitarius Ascendant/ 9th placements might mean that you get opportunity to travel

💋Having Lilith in the 2nd house might mean that you struggle with eating consistently or might struggle with self worth and body image.

💋Venus in the 4th house will be a year where you try to improve your home and find comfort in familial relationships

💋Look at transits to your solar return too theyll give you a deeper dive in whats going on you can look on astroseek.

💋12th house placements will make you inclined to find god

💋On November 16 2021 I caught feelings bad for this guy and I would go on to like him for a long time. Near that time I had a Venus Return and also a transit Solar Return with a 7th house stellium(Sun,Mars,Mercury,Moon in Libra/Scorpio). I was around this guy 24/7 and it just unexpectedly happened. Near that time Iwas having so much fun with my friends in cross country I feel so fond about those days that I could never forget.

💋 Last year having a Gemini Rising but placements like Mars and Moon in the 12th made me get talked about unknowingly behind my back so keep that in mind. Girls secretly hated me and also one of my “friends” twisted my words and spread drama about me.

💋Pay special attention to Chiron and where it is in your chart ESPECIALLY if its in retrograde

Anyways I hope yall enjoyed this was very last minute and I know people have been complaining about there not being enough Solar Return observations so here I am lol. See yall next time💋

[bouquetface]

Synastry Observations 6

Accuracy dependent on entire chart.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Venus Square Saturn

This can make it difficult for a relationship to become romantic. Saturn can unintentionally restrict the Venus. The Venus is unable to express themselves freely.

This can manifest as a couple where one person requires the other to cut out people and things they enjoy. This can be due to jealousy.

This can manifest as being critical of one another.

Ex: Venus Virgo Square Gemini Saturn. In this relationship, both were constantly critiquing the other. It made it so neither was comfortable being themselves around the other. Always awaiting a negative critique.

However, there is potential this can manifest in a positive way. For example, say the Venus struggles with over indulgence, the Saturn can help the Venus grow & mature. If Venus is bad with money, the Saturn may be able to help the Venus become disciplined.

Accuracy influenced by entire chart.

Mars Conjunct Mars

The two are drawn to one another. Together, an excess of energy is created. This can result in positive ways or negative.

A positive result is both are attracted to one another. You always have energy and time for the other. You make each other become more spontaneous. Playful fights/teasing.

A negative result is you piss each other off. Lots of aggression. Neither of you are willing to back down. This can turn violent. You can become competitive with one another too. This can challenge you to become better but if negative, you will want to destroy the other person.

Whether positive or negative, the two of you share similarities. You can feel understood by the other person. If you don’t like parts of yourself, you can sub consciously wish to change or fight the other person.

Retrograde Mars Conjunct Venus

This will be different than a regular mars conjunct venus. The same initial passion and attraction will still be there. However, Mars is naturally more reflective. If Venus can’t appreciate this, there can be trouble.

For example: Venus Aries conjunct Aries Retrograde Mars. Venus Aries is a direct and fast energy. Normally so is aries mars but when in retrograde, the person can be more reflective. Needing time and space for this. If Venus in Aries can’t understand this, the mars may feel pushed. Mars could feel venus is selfish - refusing to slow down and listen + compromisse with mars.

Accuracy is influenced by the entire chart.

Mars conjunct Asc

You’ve probably already read about how this indicates extreme attraction. Almost an impulsive urge to act on it.

However, in my experience, this works better when the ASC person’s natal chart has mars or aries or scorpio 7th H. And/or aries venus or scorpio venus or mars conjunct venus in natal. Generally, this shows you are attracted to and do well in relationships with martian people.

For those who don’t have natal indicators like this, there can be a clashing of egos. If you are not attracted to assertive people, you may view the other as arrogant &/or bossy.

For example, my friend with a Libra Venus & pisces 7th house HATES the person she has this synastry with. It didn’t lead to a romantic connection at all. He was a classmate who often interrupted when she was talking in class.

Once during her presentation, he started asking a detailed questions and proceeded to add onto her answer - showing he already knew the answer but likely wanted to show how much better he knew the topic. This question threw her off her game and led her to forgetting the next part of her speech resulting in a poor (but still good) grade. The funny thing is he is used to be good friend in our group. He never got competitive with anybody else.

Jupiter Conjunct South Node

Jupiter is seeking and has an abundance of something that the SN doesn’t really care for. SN is likely already skilled at this thing that Jupiter seeks. In this way, SN may be able to help Jupiter. However, Jupiter is a mentor planet. Here it can become negative as Jupiter may dislike being taught or told as they believe they already know.

EXAMPLE: I’ve seen this synastry in a romantic relationship in the sign of sag. Jupiter is in its home sign. Comfortable and wanting to share knowledge. Jupiter could get preachy. Jupiter dislikes being told they’re wrong. Jupiter person had a “my way or now way” mindset. SN began to see Jupiter as a narcissist.

EX.2: Jupiter person has Jupiter in natal taurus 2nd. SN has SN in natal taurus 2nd House. This couple is fairly wealthy. They both have good income. When they got married, they combined their wealth. My grandma once made a comment how it’s good that my Uncle got a woman with a good career. He just shrugged and said “yeah I guess”. He said he would’ve married her even if she didn’t have that career. They were already wealthy on their own. It wasn’t a big deal to either of them.

Jupiter brings expansion. Jupiter conjunct SN can bring an expansion of something that SN does not need or want expanded. This can be neutral or negative aspect imo.

If you believe in past lives, this connection indicates the SN person granted Jupiter with luck and/or was very generous in some kind of way. In this lifetime, Jupiter person may feel the desire to repay SN.

However, the negative interpretation is the Jupiter person did something immoral to the SN. In this lifetime, the Jupiter person may need to repay to make amends. And/or the SN may want to drain the Jupiter person to balance out what Jupiter did. House & Signs may show what kind of repayment SN takes or is given.

Mercury trine Sun

These two can understand each other very well. There is less chance of misunderstanding between the two. They understand each other way’s of thinking and what they truly mean.

For example: Sun said something that sounded bad. They didn’t exactly get their point across. However, they don’t need to worry about a misunderstanding. Mercury understands Sun’s intention.

Mercury trine Pluto

Mercury can appreciate Pluto’s intensity. Pluto may not mind if Mercury says somethings that’s a bit controversial or odd. Pluto or Mercury can be open to changing their viewpoint or debating the situation out. They appreciate each other’s honesty and openness.

For example: Sag Pluto trine Libra Mercury. The two can like to debate things out. Playful arguments if positively supported through the entire chart.

Jupiter trine Neptune

This is a good supportive energy. If the rest of the synastry is positive, this is a good bonus one to have. Neptune can be like a muse to Jupiter. Neptune inspires creativity in Jupiter. Jupiter supports and can be a muse for Neptune as well.

However, if the rest of the synastry isn’t looking good this isn’t a saving grace kind of aspect.

Venus Conjunct Asc

If the man is the Venus, the ASC can be their ideal kind of woman. If the woman is the venus, attraction from both is still likely.

However, I had a friend whose Venus conjunct her teammate’s ASC. The crush was unreciprocated. She got turned down when asking him out.

So while there can be attraction from both, it is not always going to be sexual or romantic attraction. Sometimes, it can be better as a friendship or literally a teammate way. Trust is likely easily built between the two. You can admire and respect the way the other leads their life.

Jupiter square Moon

This can lead to the two being very indulgent when together. Enabling bad habits. While this may feel good at the start, it can lead to tension between the two. High possibility both experience more frequent or intense mood swings due to the other. Jupiter person can bring out the extremes in the Moon person’s moods without meaning to.

The way the individual planets express themselves in natal can create tension in the relationship.

For example: I had Jupiter Square Moon in a relationship. My natal Jupiter is in Leo 10th H. When I would post on IG, I would occasionally get comments from male friends. After he noticed this, he always wanted to go through my phone after I posted so he could see if anyone DM’d me. He had a Taurus Moon. Taurus moons can be prone to jealousy. I also found the negative side to taurus moons is they can dislike change so much that they refuse compromise.

BTW I do not believe the planets force people do things. There are so many ways placements can manifest in real life. Not every placement will express itself the same. So this is not hate to any taurus moons because this is still in my top 3 fav moon placements.

Accuracy is influenced by the entire chart. Would love to hear your experience and opinions on these placements and aspects ❣️

ASC CONJUNCT ASC

Initially, this can be a great aspect. Generally, a good understanding of one another. You behave in similar ways at first. Keep in mind other placements such moon, mercury and venus will change the accuracy.

After some time, this aspect’s energy can become stagnant. It’s more of a neutral aspect than an outwardly positive one.

Juno Conjunct Mars

Mars is an active planet. Anything that exactly conjuncts Mars is going to trigger a reaction. When Juno conjuncts Mars, the Mars is likely to be very possessive & protective of Juno. The attraction can be strong. The negative side is Juno may dislike how mars expresses this attraction.

Vesta Conjunct Chiron

The chiron person has the ability to corrupt the vesta person. They can get under the Vesta person’s skin and get them to behave in ways they never thought they would.

The Vesta person can offer selfless devotion to the Chiron person. There can be a chance to heal. Vesta can become a safe person for chiron. However, if the chiron person is unhealed they may reject this and wish to bring the vesta person down with them.

This is most likely happening on a sub conscious level. In some cases, chiron may actually be aware of what they’re doing to the vesta person. It can be a “hurt people hurt people” & “misery lives company” situation.

Jupiter Square Mars

This can be good as this can create an excess of excitement. The two can inspire one another to desire more experience, more adventure, more knowledge.

Jupiter & Mars can have great conversations and ideas together. The downside is one person (likely the Mars) could begin to feel frustrated with Jupiter for not taking action on these ideas. While it is likely the Jupiter person may feel Mars is too quick to act.

Jupiter looks at things from a broader view. Mars may disagree or be unable to see things from Jupiter’s pov.

Mars is more about what’s in front of it right now - focused on personal passion & desires. Jupiter may feel Mars is inconsiderate/selfish.

Accuracy influenced by house and sign.

Jupiter Square Venus

This can be a very fun and loving aspect. The two encourage the other. Both can feel more confident in this relationship. Venus may feel liberated and supported by Jupiter. Jupiter may feel loved and gifted/blessed by Venus.

The downside is this may indicate an enabling partnership. Jupiter’s expansive energy and Venus’s harmonious energy can come together to create bad habits. Ex: exaggerating to the point of almost lying, overspending, overindulging in substances that are bad for you, etc. The couple isn’t likely to challenge each other to become better. Rather they may be prone to lie and/or let things slide to keep the peace.

Jupiter Square Mercury

Harsh mercury aspects are never good. In this situation, Jupiter’s morals/beliefs clash with the Mercury person. Mercury may feel Jupiter is too vague, too focused on the bigger picture and neglecting the details and facts.

Ex: One way for this to manifest is as Jupiter being a religious/spiritual person. Jupiter may share these beliefs but Mercury would be the person to say, well i believe in science. If the two can’t accept that the other has a different view, agreements & frustrations will be at an all time high.

Mercury is more of a logical planet. Mercury takes in info, analyzed and draws conclusions. Jupiter is faith, sometimes faith in something that cannot be seen. For this reason the two are bound to clash.

Accuracy influenced by entire chart.

[bambiilooza]

yapping about how i design the gods <3

i'm really happy with the design principles i've laid out and i wanted to share :3

so, etm has the rule that the more magical a character is in epic, the more glowing elements they have in their design. i took inspiration from that and translated the glowing light strips (that are specific to epic) and have the glowing elements be a tattoo. the tattoo is specific to each god and their eyes will match with it.

dionysus, for example, has green tattoos and his eyes match with that. these tattoos are not always glowing but when magic is happening, they will

another example is persephone with her red-ish eyes and similarly red-ish tattoos.

most of the gods have golden eyes and tattoos cuz it's regal and important looking. the ones i have designed are athena, apollo and hermes. (zeus, ares, hephaestus, artemis and hestia also have shades of gold be their eye/tattoo colour but i haven't gotten good coloured art of them)

but not all have gold. dionysus' green is to link him to grape vines and persephone's red-ish eyes link to pomegranates.

poseidon and aeolus have connections to water and air. so they have blue eyes and tattoos. (of course you have blue eyes and tattoos.)

aeolus' tattoos are going change to clouds btw but this is all i have of them atm)

also, when a god in full power, their pupils are not present.

i also use the statues and classical art of them as a starting point in the design. you can see it in the most is aphrodite. you can see she's based of the venus de milo with her lack of arms and her body type is inspired by older statues of her. she's probably my favourite design i've made so far.

(she has blue eyes and tattoos due to her connections with the sea)

a fun detail i've included is how the tattoos/symbols relating to a god shows up on other characters.

for example, apollo has this sun tattoo on his neck which is also on the neck of orpheus. i don't think all of apollo's kids have this, orpheus was given this marking specially.

(there are similar markings with each god and their demi-god kids)

another idea i have with the tattoos is how when someone in the pantheon (only) takes a lover, they can have a marking in relation to them maybe.

for example, lovers of poseidon have the trident as seen below. (he also follows the tattoo/eye rule but the ones that relate to him are just lil circles. not detailed or specific in the way it is for a major diety.)

and i see aphrodite's lovers having a kiss mark. and apollo's maybe a music note (different to how his look tho)

i love designing the gods a lot! and can't wait to make more. i mostly just made this post to have the rules written down for myself but i hope you like it too :D

[crowlixcx]

Please god please HOW WAS MACBETH

Okay bestie lets get into it!! Obvs it's...literally Macbeth lol so I doubt i'm spoiling the plot for anyone here however if anyone reading this does have tickets and doesn't want to know anything about staging etc i suggest u avert your eyes now

Anon babes it was marvellous. David was so commanding?? he's built like a string bean but when he was up on stage he looked BIG and powerful. The character development was so nuanced, the descent into madness was manic and chaotic but eventually steady and calm - he literally snapped a little boys neck with his bare hands in the battle scene it was gruesome. I've seen one too many productions of Macbeth where its pretty much all pinned on Lady Macbeth being the brains behind the operation but it was very obvious from the start of this production that Macbeth had plenty of malicious thoughts and intentions of his own. He needed a little bit of convincing from LM but obviously your average person cannot be coerced into murder lol this man was out for blood from the START. Cush Jumbo was DIVINE and the perfect enabler, their chemistry was spicy and sensual and I loved it. They changed the script so that LM visits Lady MacDuff before the latter is murdered and its sooo good it makes Lady Macbeth so much more 3 dimensional rather than the usual evil witchy woman, it makes her human and Jumbo portrays her beautifully. It really was exciting for the production to be so intimate. The Donmar is a LOVELY black box theatre not many seats at all so you're very close to the action. This is my 5th time seeing DT on stage (prev. Much Ado About Nothing, Richard II, Don Juan in Soho & Good) and they've all been at big venues so it felt very different. The use of headphones was soooo good and it helped them keep the pace of the show (it was 1hr50 with no interval). Rather than dramatic asides like in the script the actors could whisper and it was RIGHT in your ear which made it feel very personal and dark like you were really in the character's heads. You never saw any of the visions (the dagger, the witches, banquo's ghost) which is how i always prefer it to be portrayed personally because you know... they're not actually there this man is just guilty AF and losing his grasp on reality!! But the sound effects they used in these moments were verrrry good and helped set the scene, lots of spooky music and sounds of screaming and whispering etc. And just generally through out the production you heard every. single. word. because of the headphones which was just delicious.

Final note because when u came into my inbox u were probably just expecting a simple 'yeah i really enjoyed it!!' and instead i've written a mini essay BUT in the battle scene at the end David really did win the award for most agile man in his 50s, he head-butt like 4 people and i was like...damn boy can u come over and fight me some time

[youremyheaven]

Frequently Asked Questions:

I get some version of these pretty much every day so I thought I'd make an FAQ:

What is my dominant planet/How do I find it?

If you knew enough about astrology and your birth chart, you would know which planet influenced you the most. Most people acutely feel a combination of at least 2-3 planetary influences most strongly. In reality, every single planet and nakshatra in our chart influences us but we probably aren't self-aware enough/knowledgeable about astrology enough to see how it impacts us. Each planet correlates to a different area of your life. Since Sun represents the soul/outer self and Moon represents the mind/emotions, its safe to say these 2 placements impact every area of life but when it comes to relationships/creativity/beauty, you channel your Venus whether you're aware of it or not and same goes for all other planets. Whenever you do something of a creative bent, you tap into your Ketu, your education is affected by your Mercury and Jupiter, so on and so forth.

If you're very new to vedic astrology or if you haven't been able to figure out your dominant planets, just let it be!! This is not a puzzle to be solved, there is no way for you or somebody else to mechanically calculate your "dominant" planet. I don't know you, I don't know what you look like, what your personality is like, so there is absolutely no way for me to tell what influence comes through most acutely.

Also, the concept of "dominance" itself is pretty much a made up one (thanks Claire Nakti) so literally, just chill out!!! Read about your placements, and learn more about astrology instead of trying to claim planets. You're influenced by your whole chart, its that simple. That's it.

2. Which website should I use?

You can use astro seek.com or the Cosmic Insights app or the Jagannatha Hora app. On astro seek, you have to adjust to "whole sign" instead of Placidus though. On the others, that's the default setting, I think.

3. Which ayanamsa should I use?

I stick to Lahiri

4. I have xyz nak/planet/house, am I doomed/ugly/forever alone/unlucky?

NO

Astrology helps us understand our strengths and weaknesses, there is no placement that comes as a death sentence of some sort. I feel like most people don't understand that your birth chart is supposed to make you self-aware of your natural inclinations, tendencies, patterns etc so that you can work with them/make necessary changes etc. Your chart is NOT set in stone. Human behaviour is far too complex to be narrowed down to a birth chart. It shows your INCLINATIONS, which means that if you're self aware, you can make necessary adjustments to work on unhealthy habits/tendencies.

Astrology is not "this is who you are, you suck",, it's a tool for self-growth.

If you have difficult placements, you need to pay more attention to them and work on those areas. Why on earth would you just accept that everything is fcked and its game over for you bc of what the stars said??? Sorry to be rude but that's dumb af?? You were not put on this earth to be miserable until the day you die, EVERYBODY has difficult placements, if you remain ignorant of it/avoid it, you will continue to live in ignorance and suffer from the same things you always have and not know why.

Astrology makes it possible for you to understand yourself and evolve.

5. I'm not Hindu, can I still worship Gods/Goddesses/chant mantras?

Every single religion is made up. God never said only brown people from the Indian subcontinent can worship me. But that said, do your research and actually be invested in it. I feel like some people approach this in a Buzzfeed-y "Which Disney Princess Am I?😍" type of way which is 🤦🏻‍♀️but religion isn't something to be sampled, if ykwim?

You don't have to attain Guru levels of religious insight/expertise either. Most practicing Hindus probably know very little about their religion and truth be told, Hinduism is soooo vast, expansive, varied and eclectic that people practice it in thousands of different ways across the country with their own unique rituals/customs, so everybody who practices the religion makes it their own, in some ways?

Build an altar if you can, dedicate a certain time of the day and space of your room/house to just prayer. By making something sacred, we feel its divinity permeate our lives. Rituals are a major part of every religion because acting with intention helps us feel like our lives have meaning.

Always chant after you've showered, sit facing east, look at a picture of your deity or visualise them and chant quietly. Most people use prayer beads but you can also just count them on your fingers. Its often said that when you chant, others should not be able to hear you. If you use prayer beads, keep them covered in a box after use. You've energetically charged them with your chanting and its not good to leave them exposed because they'll pick up on other vibrations from the surroundings. Do not chant after you've just eaten!!

Picking a deity is all about intuition. If you don't feel called to anybody, just chill out and keep studying their mythology. You can always chant 'Om'.

I used to chant Buddhist mantras like 'Om mani padme hum' and 'nam myoho renge kyo' and they're not directed to any deity so if you're worried about that, you can always chant non-deity mantras as well.

The purpose of chanting mantras is to keep your mind calm and still. Even if you repeat a certain affirmation in English several hundred times, it has the same effect.

[temis-de-leon]

Day 20 - Kiss on the hand

Characters: Satan x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: emotional intelligence chases Satan, but he's way too fast. Sudden and kind of inappropriate discussion of marriage, established relationship, Satan implied to be taller

A/N: I think this is ooc, but my brain decided to ✨stop✨, so here it is. I still like it, tho

.

“Is everything okay?”

“Hm?”

MC usually liked when Satan fixed his eyes on them. His stare almost had an academic feeling to it, like he was actually observing and trying to answer questions only he knew, but MC never found themselves being scrutinized. He still looked at them with care and fascination and the glint his eyes wore whenever they shared a moment of comfortable silence reminded them of the human sea and the sunrays bouncing on the water surface.

It was a feeling of being home that only he could bring and MC was far too happy indulging in it.

But this time was different.

He was blushing, distracted by a thought in his mind that, judging by his face, was a rather embarrassing one. He mumbled, shook his head and blushed even more. Was he… arguing with himself?

They had to admit, Satan had been acting strange the whole night. Keeping them close, but not engaging in conversation, holding their chin and staring at their lips, but not kissing them. Showing off their relationship before his peers, flaunting MC’s accomplishments with pride without looking at them.

It wasn’t anger, no, Mc would’ve known had that been the case.

Satan was embarrassed about something. Something involving them.

But what?

“What do you mean?” he asked, interrupting their thoughts.

A horrible liar, he was, cheeks tainted in a deep red and voice strained.

“You haven’t looked at me for hours and now you can’t stop staring”

“Why, can’t I appreciate my partner’s beauty?”

A faint flash of aggravation crossed his features and MC was quick to smile and cup his face.

“Something’s been on your mind” they said gently, enjoying the softness of his skin “What is it?”

The song suddenly changed to an ever slower one and he made sure to discretely move them to the farthest corner of the venue. The bride and the groom, both friends of Satan, walked to the centre of the dancefloor amongst cheers and applauses, the very few lights of the room soon focusing on the newlywed couple and leaving the guests surrounded by darkness. Even though it was a warm summer night, MC hugged Satan’s waist and swayed to the music, smiling when he brought them closer and rested his cheek on their head.

“So?”

MC felt him sigh against their chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I haven’t forgot. It’s just… them”

He slightly turned his face, probably looking at his friends, and MC felt their heart give a violent jump. What was he actually talking about?

“Relax, MC” he said when he senses their tensed body, but that didn’t calm their nerves. Their fingers were tingling, cold sweat running down their back and the uneasiness making them tremble.

Please, please, tell them Satan wasn’t going to propose to them during his friends’ wedding.

“I hope your reaction doesn’t mean you reject the idea of marrying me”

They moved away just enough to be able to look at each other, his breath still reaching them. It had a faint smell of alcohol and MC deeply hoped his words weren’t being fuelled by the influence, though he’d been acting weird since the beginning of the night, before they started drinking.

His apprehensive gaze reminded them he had implied a very important question.

“This is the first time you’ve even mentioned marriage” they said, immediately clarifying themselves to not give the wrong impression “Not that I’m saying no, but this is… this is something!”

Despite talking in whispers, the sincerity and borderline ridiculousness of the conversation brought the attention of a couple of guests. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to catch the wedding party’s eye, but MC still looked at their boyfriend in panic.

“Yes, I agree, this isn’t the best moment, but I couldn’t get it out of my head”

The seriousness in his voice dried MC’s mouth. They wanted to be mad at him for bringing up such a serious topic in the worst possible scenario, but a part of them jumped in joy at the prospect of being with him forever. Of an official paper signed by Lord Diavolo making it clear to the rest of the world.

“Forgive me, MC, I shouldn’t have talked about it here and now”

He sighed once more, lifting their hand to his lips and kissing the back softly. His eyes stopped at their ring finger for a brief moment and MC’s breath hitched once more.

They didn’t talk much more for the rest of the party, too tired from all the dancing and the socializing and the discussing about potentially spending the rest of their lives together.

But they held each other and they kissed each other and, once they finally got home, they sat down on his bed and talked, not stopping until both of their faces hurt from smiling.

.

.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown @mehkers

[gay-wh0re-slut]

When I say angst I mean I’ve read all of your work twice and it’s sooooo good

I need it

OOOHHHHH!!! thank you so so much then! lemme think lemme think!! i hope this one will suit your needs hehe but i’m gonna do just angst w happy ending no smut bc i’m afraid i’m repeating myself so enjoyyy

Just Lovely

rhea x fem!reader

content: just angst, but happy ending! with a kiss probably!

The Feud, everyone called it. You and Rhea had hated each other since the minute you met. Unfortunately, you had some matches against her but the chemistry or lack of made for a good show, so they kept scheduling you to fight. You hated it. You always wanted to stay professional though, so you didn’t want to actually hurt her in the ring, just her ego. You were the complete opposite of her style, girly, flowery, pastels, but you became a heel for her only. Everyone ate it up.

Without requesting, the PA’s would make sure that you were on the completely opposite side of the locker room or in different ones entirely depending on the venue. Neither of you were sure why you hated each other but you didn’t have the will power to figure it out.

One day, the producers told you that you needed to fix the feud for the storyline. You refused of course and you assumed she did too.

“The people want to see the two of you kiss and makeup, essentially,” they said.

“I would rather never see her again, to be honest with you,” you fired back.

“Unfortunately, that can’t happen.”

“Unless she comes to me herself and says that she wants to, which I doubt she will with that big head of hers, I will not ‘kiss and makeup’ for the sake of the story line,” you cross your arms.

The men sighed as they nodded and walked away.

“Do I really have a big head?” the annoying accent said behind you.

You’re kidding, you thought. You turn around with your jaw clenched, rolling your eyes, “you win every match, how can you not?”

“Guess they asked you to play nice, huh?” she walked towards you.

You put your hand up to stop her from coming any closer, “yes.”

She stopped right at your hand, centimeters from her chest. You pull your hand away immediately, what was that about, you thought as your stomach turned.

“And what if I did want to stop ‘the feud’, would that be so bad?” she smiled.

“You’ve hated me the moment I got signed, why would you change now?”

“For the fans…everything I do is for them,” she sounded sincere, but you couldn’t help rolling your eyes.

“Oh shut up, you’re here because you bring in the big bucks, not because of-”

“Don’t start,” she growled.

“Did I pinch a nerve?” you pouted.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them,” she admitted.

You felt a soft spot forming for her but you pushed it down, “I don’t have time for this, I have the first match,” you walk away.

The show came and went, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her. She consumed your thoughts, she made you shake and see red anytime you thought of her. It was exhausting, honestly. Part of you wanted to stop this whole thing so that you could rest but it brought you more fame, and unfortunately you wouldn’t be where you are without The Rhea Ripley.

“Hey…uhm, Rhea wants to see you,” the PA was nervous, “I can tell her no, no problem, though she is pretty scary but I can do it.”

“Did she tell you what she wanted?” you were packing your bag.

“N-no, I didn’t get that far,” they were wringing their hands.

You sigh not wanting to scare them more, “It’s okay,” you reassure, “where is she?”

“In locker room 12.”

“Thank you,” you gave a weak smile and walked out of the locker room. You heard them sigh with relief behind you.

So you started making your way across the arena, it felt like. You racked your brain to figure out what she could possibly want. Does she actually want to go through with this? Does she have an ultimatum? Does she want to beat the shit out of me? All these thoughts ran through your head.

You knocked on the door and let yourself in without a response.

“Glad to see you got the stick out of your ass to come here,” she snickered.

“What do you want, Rhea?” you stood just inside the door with your hands on your hips wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

“To talk,” she gestured to the chair, “Is that okay?”

You squinted at her to try to figure out the game she was playing. You stood for a good minute before you decided to sit. You threw your duffle beside the chair as you sat down. You crossed your legs and your arms as you leaned back.

“Thank you,” she sat across from you leaning herself on her knees.

“Psh,” you rolled your eyes.

“About the storylin-” she started.

“I already said no,” you interrupted.

“And I would much rather not do it either, but I’m trying to be the bigger person here, princess,” she mocked.

Your stomach turned again, “For a heel, you’re too nice sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s a curse…anyway,” she leaned back, “I think we should do it.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ll get more attention. In turn, getting more of the women involved, and you know how we’ve been treated,” she seemed to be quite nice but somehow it made you dislike her more.

“I guess so,” you started to swing your leg, “what’s in it for you? There’s always a catch.”

“When has there ever been a catch with me?”

“Oh c’mon, you can’t be anywhere without your puppy dog Dom following you around on and off screen. He brings you more attention than you could on your own,” your tone was pointed.

“Don’t bring Dom into this, this isn’t about him,” she leaned herself back towards you with a point before leaning back again.

“Whatever,” you turn your head away.

“There is no catch, I’m serious. This would be better for both of us.”

You let that sit in the air for a moment before she spoke again.

“Why do you hate me so much?” her voice was small.

You looked back towards her rubbing your tongue over your teeth before you opened your mouth, “I don’t want to get into this,” you start to stand up.

“Please,” she grabbed your wrist.

You’re shocked at her reaction, your stomach turning again. You ripped your hand away from her grip. You stood for a moment contemplating whether or not you should tell her the truth or make something up. So you decide to ask, “Do you want the TV answer or the truth?”

She shrugged as she gestured towards you, letting you choose. She leaned back once more.

You look at your phone for the time, unfortunately it wasn’t as late as you thought it was so that excuse was out. “Fine,” you didn’t sit back down though. “I hate you because I can’t beat you.”

She chuckled, “You’re serious?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re lying. Now I want the truth, because that was obvio-”

“Please shut up,” you rest your head in your hand. You look back at her as she’s smirking, your heart begins to beat faster, “I- yeah, no I can’t do this right now. We have a plane to catch tomorrow.”

You grab your bag and head for the door. Somehow she beats you to it and closes it, basically pinning you to the door. Your breath hitched and your stomach turned. Only now did you realize that it wasn’t sickness, it was butterflies, dammit.

“I want to know. I want to know what I did wrong so I can fix it. If I hurt you, I’m sorry. I’m tired of fighting off camera, you’re the only person who seems to not like me and I want to know why…please,” she admits.

Your breathing was heavier and you didn’t have much air left. You ducked under her arm and went back to the chair leaning your hands on the back of it. She turns to face you, not getting closer.

“Fuck…Damn it,” you said under your breath, “fine!” you threw your hands up in surrender. You were tired of fighting too, you guessed now would be the time to tell her because obviously you didn’t have to balls to start the conversation. “I’m jealous of you.”

“What?”

“I’m jealous of you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Well…no,” she leaned against the door with her arms crossed.

“Well, I am. You’re so popular, and strong, and your fans absolutely adore you, they’d do anything for you. You get everything you want here and more! It’s ’Monday Night Mami’ for crying out loud,” your face was red and you could feel the tears starting to form but you pushed them back.

She let you continue.

“Even Triple H loves you, the writers love you, everyone loves you. I get jack shit when I walk into the ring. I’ve tried everything to get people to like me, I’m the girly girl who hates you because we’re complete opposites,” a single tear fell down your face, “I’m tired of being compared to the other girls. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m jealous okay, that’s why I… don’t like you.”

She stared at you for a minute before she grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and handed it to you.

“And you’re too nice,” you added.

“Well that I can vouch for but the rest?” she lifted your chin to wipe the tear away, “I worked my ass off to get here, that’s why people love me I like to believe. Nothing was handed to me though it may seem like it. Like I said earlier, everything I do is for my fans, seriously, if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be pushing myself to be better.”

“God this is embarrassing,” you sniff.

“It isn’t, I’m glad you’re telling me,” she rubbed your shoulder.

You gave her a weak smile before brushing off her hand and stepping away from her, “that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to change the storyline.”

“Not even for one match?”

“No,” you crumble up the tissue, “being mean to you on camera is too fun,” you giggled.

“Right,” she sighed dramatically, “it would be a shame if we became best friends and won the tag team titles though.”

“Don’t dangle that in front of me,” you point.

“The writers love a redemption arc,” she kept going.

“Stop it,” you begin to smile.

“Or maybe, we could kiss and makeup on camera for our next match instead of fighting?” she swayed towards you.

“W-we could do that,” the butterflies in your stomach were sprinting. Her eyes were filled with hunger, her stance was powerful.

“Or,” you hoped this was her last suggestion, “we could kiss and makeup right here?” she brushed a strand behind your ear.

You backed away, “What?”

“Oh, c’mon, you don’t think the jealousy was a cover up for the crush you have on me? Even subconsciously?” she smirked.

“I do not have a crush on you,” you lied.

“So if I did this,” she cupped your cheek, “You don’t feel anything?”

Your face got hot and heart beat faster than it ever has before, “Nope,” you lie again.

“Well,” she dropped her hand, “That’s a shame. We could’ve been WWE’s It couple,” she sighed.

“D-Do you have a crush on me?” you asked surprised at your realization.

“No, I just wanted to mess with you,” running her hands through her beautiful jet black hair, you watched as her arms muscles tensed and released with every movement, “yes I have a crush on you, idiot.”

You shook yourself from your gaze, “Are you serious?”

“I don’t care if people hate me,” she scoffed, “but I do care if I hurt somebody, so that part was true. I didn’t want you to hate me because I don’t hate you.”

“I’m so confused right now,” you rub your eyes, “what do you mean you have a crush on me?”

“I. Like. You,” she took a step closer to you with every word. “It’s not hard to understand.”

“But I’ve been so mean to you.”

“I like a mean girl every once in a while,” she smirked. She was now standing in front of you looking down into your eyes. You weren’t much shorter than her but enough to where it made your knees weak.

You couldn’t say anything, you were in shock.

She lifted your chin again to make full eye contact with you, “Now, can I kiss you or no?”

You slowly nodded your head.

“You sure?”

You nodded your head more seriously this time.

She cupped your face with both hands and brought her lips to yours. Fireworks went off in your head, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Your lips danced against hers perfectly as your hands brought her waist into yours. Your heads tilting in sync, from one side to the other, you didn’t want to let go.

Sadly, she let go, “so,” she breathed, “my room or yours?”

[chrissieyt]

Chrissie’s Corner Save File V1.0

Welcome to version 1.0 of my new Sims 4 save file that’s been in the works for 4+ years now where I’m rebuilding/renovating every single lot & world in the game, as well as adding hundreds of new Sims & giving makeovers to all of the EA townies as well!

So why is this Version 1.0?

Basically, this save has been in the works for over 4 years, since before I even had my YouTube channel! Because of that, I’ve decided to split releases up into “versions” because I keep having to go back & update old Sims, homes & lots as we get new packs. I also tend to “hop around” a lot between worlds & as a result of that, there are a couple of lots/households done in each world already - & with each new version, I’ll update it with 1-2 new worlds that are completely done! With Version 1.0 however, I’ve decided to focus on Willow Creek & Oasis Springs!

What does Version 1.0 include exactly?

Other than a bunch of “random” builds/households done in other worlds, Version 1.0 has Willow Creek & Oasis Springs completely done! That means all new community lots, new/renovated houses for EA townies & a bunch of new Sims that I’ve created & built homes for! There are literally hundreds of NEW Sims throughout the whole save file, & you can see a more detailed breakdown of what’s included in Willow Creek & Oasis Springs down below, as well as some more pictures of each world! I’ve also done a OVERVIEW VIDEO you can watch if you’d like!

How to download & install saves:

Once you’ve downloaded the “Corner Save File” from the link below, follow these steps, or check out this great VIDEO (starting at 15:03) that OshinSims made with instructions!

Make a backup of your Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Saves folder

Download the file, unzip, and place files in Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Saves.

I’ve tried to make sure the save file slot name is pretty high, but if it says you already have a file of that name, change the slot number. You should probably choose something higher. Just make sure you don’t have that slot number already. (Example: change Slot_00000055.save to Slot_00000099.save)

Open your game and enter the save. It's named “Corner Save 1.0”. You’ll see it pop up with my SimSelf as the preview family.

Once you’ve got the save opened, make sure you “save as” and create a new file for your own gameplay. This way you can use the save again without having to redownload.

Now you can play with the Sims I’ve created, or add your own & have fun!

Disclaimers + Optional Mods:

I built this save with the intention of integrating all of the different packs we have, & since I own all of the packs, I’ve used them all. So if you don’t own all of them, you might find that you’re missing some things & I don’t know how well it would work in that case.

I’ve also used a couple of mods! Now these aren’t “necessary” but I would highly recommend them to add a bit more customization & useful gameplay. They’re really small mods too!

Mods I’ve used:

More Selectable Icons mod by @zerbu​ (To add the custom icons that I’ve used for the clubs I created as well as a couple of the holidays I added. These icons can also be used for SimTuber Avatars & Lifestyle Brand logos too!

Venue Changes mod by @zerbu​ (This mod unlocks a lot of the “specialty lots” that came with packs - like the Chalet, Myshuno Gardens, etc - but I used it to allow students to have club gatherings on the High School lot! So a couple of the teen clubs have the High School as their club hangout.)

Another mod I’d HIGHLY recommend is MC Command Center by deaderpool & I used it a lot to do the setup for my save - but it’s not necessary to have it if you want to play with the save!

Download HERE! 

SimFileShare download, no adfly!

OR

Alternate DOWNLOAD (Google Drive)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Included in Version 1.0:

Willow Creek - 17 Brand New Lots (residential & commercial) + 4 Renovated Residential Lots

Willow Creek has 5 Community Lots: A park; Lounge; Library & Café; Gym & Spa; Museum/Wedding Venue/Art Center/Café

11 NEW households, as well as a couple of new Sims/pets added to some of the EA households.

Oasis Springs - 14 Brand New Lots (residential & commercial) + 7 Renovated Residential Lots

Oasis Springs has 5 Community Lots: A park; Retail Bakery & Café; Nightclub & Lounge; Gym & Spa; Restaurant

10 NEW households, as well as a couple of new Sims/pets added to some of the EA households.

[shinewerst]

Here I will leave some of my thoughts, guesses and headcanons. Some of them may be stupid and unreasonable, but I will share them with you anyway.

I've noticed that a lot of people headcanon Earth and Moon or Earth and Venus as siblings. And I partially agree with this. But here are my thoughts on this matter: They are celestial bodies and they do not have siblings in the usual sense, but since they live for a very long time, over billions of years of being close to each other, they can develop family feelings for each other. But only if they are always close. Therefore, most often this occurs between a planet and its moons or between several moons of one planet. This is unlikely to happen between planets, since each of them is in its own orbit, perhaps double planets are an exception. Therefore, I headcanon the Moon and Earth as brothers, Phobos and Deimos too, and Mars as their guardian. (Earth and Venus may be somehow connected, but not family) It's more difficult with gas giants. I believe that when their moons are too numerous and constantly increasing in number, they stop keeping track of them and treat them more like decorations. But Idk.

In the Solar System, having life is supposedly cool and the Earth is proud of it, Venus dreams of it, etc. but it seems to me that in other systems the attitude towards this may be different. For example, I have an oc exoplanet and in her home system this was not considered something cool. They literally treated it like lice lol.

Planets/stars/satellites do not speak any of the earth’s languages, but their own. But different systems have something like their own accents and dialects. So my oc speaks a little differently from them.

In different parts of the universe, the appearance of the planets changes and what the planets will look like usually depends on the star (I'm talking specifically about planethumans).

For the planet/star and satellites, love is something deeper than for earthlings. This is very strong, sensual.

I also noticed how in many fanfictions characters call Proto-Earth that way. But it seems to me that the term “Proto-Earth” itself appeared after his death, namely the collision with Theia and the appearance of the “new Earth”. Before that, everyone simply called him Earth.

Each of them has its own axis tilt, right? They don't really follow it, especially in the planethumans format, so I made a headcanon about them sleeping on their slants. So, Venus sleeps upside down, huh?

The Earth speaks all earthly languages and knows the stages of evolution of almost every creature on his surface, although sometimes he himself may be confused about this. His past memories are slowly fading. He does not remember how he and the Moon appeared, he does not remember that there could have been life on Venus before. I imagine him periodically reading a book about dinosaurs because he doesn't want to forget about them.

I like to think that Mars used to be a bad-tempered asshole, but Earth doesn't remember that. Mars himself does not want to remember this at all, since he has already grown out of it.

Probably the Earth became the way we see him because of humans. Perhaps he was different before. I imagine him as a sweet and kind planet who does his best to care for his friends and his little brother. But when he changed, Luna continued to love him like a brother and care for him in return.

Earth usually tells others only the good side of earthlings, but usually he complains to the Moon about how much he is hurt, about how they are starting another war and doing other terrible things. Therefore, the Moon is much more tolerant of the Earth; he must be the only one who knows how hard it is for him.

Venus is jealous of the Earth and everyone has already understood this. I like to think that Venus, after losing life on its surface, feels the need to protect Earth and its inhabitants.

Luna is aroace. Just because for some reason it seems to me that dating someone just doesn’t suit him.

That's all for now. Maybe I'll create a second part cause I might have forgotten something :p

[moonstruckme]

Steve x Wednesday!reader and the gang really didn’t expect Steve to end up w someone so different from all his exs but also low-key think she’s way out of his league??? Found your fics and your writing is sick 😋😋😋😋

Thanks for your request sweetheart! I haven't written wednesday!reader before so idk if this was too much? Or too little? Anyway, I hope you like it, mwah <3

Steve Harrington x Wednesday!reader ♡ 698 words

You hadn't been at all nervous to meet Steve's friends. Really, they probably should have been more nervous about meeting you.

You could be a bit off-putting at first, with your impassive stare and clipped, to-the-point manner of speaking. The few other girlfriends Steve had introduced to his friends had greeted them with smiles and nervous laughter, and Steve had caught Dustin and Mike whispering about just that when you'd gone to the bathroom.

Overall, though, Steve thinks this is going pretty well. Nancy had liked your giant combat boots, Eddie loved that you had the same taste in music, and when the kids found out how much you knew about mages and battle strategy, they'd grilled you for a solid twenty minutes before Steve had called them off, complaining that he was going to dream about their nerd jargon that night if they didn't shut up.

Now, Eddie and the boys are discussing the edition of their nerd game they'll be playing next week (how it even changes from week to week, Steve can never figure out), and you seem to be listening with mild interest when you turn towards him suddenly.

"I have to go home," you say, in your matter-of-fact way. "I left a potion on the stove, and its six hours are almost up."

Steve blinks at you. He should be used to this by now, but sometimes your hobbies still take him by surprise. "Alright," he says after a moment. "What's the potion for?"

Impossibly, your expression darkens. "Something ate my venus fly traps, and I intend to find out what."

Steve declines to ask what you plan to do when you do find them, or how whatever you're brewing will accomplish that. "Okay," he stands, looking for where he left his keys. "I'll drive."

"No, you can stay," you say, as if it makes no difference to you. "I want to cut through the woods to find some belladonna on my way."

He's not going to ask what you want with the poisonous berries, either. "You sure, honey?" You nod, and Steve sits back down. He knows better than to bother arguing with you once you've made up your mind. "Okay, be safe, alright? Text me when you're home."

He tilts his chin up, and you lean down to peck him on the lips, a brief, chaste thing compared to what you prefer behind closed doors.

"Bye, Y/N!" Eddie calls, and a chorus of goodbyes follow you out. As soon as the door closes behind you, every eye in the room turns on Steve.

"Steve, what the hell? She's so cool." Dustin says, sounding almost shocked.

"Yeah," Eddie chimes in. "Where the hell have you been hiding her, Harrington?"

Steve grins proudly. He known they liked you, but it doesn't hurt to hear it out loud. "Yeah?"

"Um, yeah," Max says. "She's hilarious."

Robin nods enthusiastically. "She is! She's so funny, and smart, too. Honestly, Steve, it's a good thing you're nice, because she's, like, way out of your league."

Steve blinks. Okay, ouch. This compliment session seems to be taking an unexpected turn. Up until today, no one was out of Steve Harrington's league. "You really think so?"

"Duh." Robin looks around for support, but only Dustin is nodding, everyone else having fallen unusually silent. "Oh, you guys are cowards. She's gorgeous."

"I know that," Steve says defensively.

"She does have better hair than you," Nancy says, somewhat apologetically, "and that's kind of your thing, so."

Steve blows out an exasperated breath, slouching back in his seat. He thinks you have better hair than him, but he didn't know everyone else would think that. And of course you're far too good for him, but aren't these supposed to be his friends? Any modicum of loyalty they'd had between them seems to have vanished.

"Whatever," Steve says. "You guys are just jealous."

Eddie sighs, his eyes sparkling with exaggerated infatuation. "I know I am. Don't let her get away from you, Harrington, or I might take her for myself."

Steve rolls his eyes. As if he'd be dumb enough to let that happen. He's happy to be your charity case forever.

[netherfeildren]

Forfeiting My Mystique

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Summary: You're a girl made of golden gossamer, a work of art come to life, and Ezra, well he's dedicated his life to collecting beautiful things.

-OR-

An Ezra Art Collector AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: voyeurism; kind of objectifying? (not sure how to tag the strange shit going on here); ezra’s weird; mommy issues; references to past childhood abuse; touch aversion/touch starved (at the same time); sugar daddy vibes; size difference; oral sex (f! receiving); butt stuff lite; dom/sub undertones; power dynamics; self esteem issues x2; panty thieving; masturbation; obsessive behavior; possessive behavior; brief mention of recreational drug use; brief discussion of parent death

A/N: This is extremely self indulgent - basically I wrote it for me, but you guys can read it too. I know I took some liberties with Ezra's characterization but whatever.

Inspo (and some of the dialogue) pulled from Lenny Kravitz’s Paris town house Vogue tour, Jeremy Strong’s favorite things GQ interview, and “Marianne” from Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin.

Title is from the poem by the same name by Kaveh Akbar.

Word Count: 12K

Read on AO3

Ezra has always loved beautiful things. Since he was a child, his mother taught him to instill an appreciation for beauty into all facets of his world. She herself, a gorgeously beautiful creature, was well versed in such a life. But beautiful as she was, she was also cruel, selfish, capricious to her very core, and she’d turned him into a strange amalgamation of a man by proxy. At once also cruel and selfish and capricious, but hurt and soft and gnarled, as well, so that he was also made gentle and aware and hopeful. That above all else, his greatest weakness, always hopeful. Perhaps, to the point of naivety, the point of peril. For he looked for beauty in all things, and to do that, he was forced to bestow his hopeful eye upon even the ugly and harsh things of the world. 

And so he’d dedicated his life to finding those beautiful things. An art collector by virtue, they called him. A vulture, a scavenger, a treasure hunter. A man full of greed and pride, demons and too much money. All he thought of himself as, was hungry. So yes, perhaps a scavenger, a morsel of greed within the marrow of his bones, always looking for the next sublime artifact, painting, statue – person. But he also liked to think of himself as a protector of those beautiful things, of historic things. Things that changed the very face of humanity, shifted the tide of the world. A collector – always in search of the next life changing sight. Always certain the world was filled with endless possibilities for beauty, for loveliness, for sensuality, for something to captivate, to overwhelm him.

-

The first thing he sees are your feet. Standing in the gallery over from the one you’re inhabiting, people he doesnt know or give a fuck about talking at him, schmoozing and preening and prostrating themselves. Probably hoping he’ll cough up a couple million euro for whatever cause they’re pretending to crusade behind at the moment. He can see only the quarter bottom half of the famed performance artist he’d heard so much about. The entire exhibit tonight had been built around you, and it had the whole of Paris raving and ravenous for a piece of the lovely morsel they so claimed you posed as. Shallow and vain creatures that the peers of his echelon were, they were easily amused and easily bored by the smallest passing fads. At once desperate to be the first to see or speak of a thing, and consequently, the first to discard it as dépassé. 

He’d made the trek all the way to the Left Bank from his townhouse in the 16th arrondissement, to see the performance of the woman whom his associate, Oruf, had said would change the way he thought of a living creature forevermore. Big words from a little man, Ezra had no real inclination to believe. 

The angle of the wall blocks most of you from his view – granting him the sight of only your knees down. Your feet are small, he can see the tiny square shape of your nails, the gleam of them under the soft warm overhead light – lying on your side, one slotted above the other. The fine architecture of your ankles – delicate, the blue hued veins crawling like vines up the top of your foot, lost to the pale of your skin. The smooth, glossy slope of your calf, up to the flat round of your patella. It’s all he can admire from where he stands. Pretty legs, but nothing to lose one’s head over so far. 

The person talking at him is interminably long winded. Ezra would like nothing more than to beg them to shut the fuck up and be on his way. He wants another drink. He wants to see you in full. He’d heard so much about the woman sitting for the live art exhibit. You’d been heralded into a creature of myth by the wagging tongues of Paris. He wanted to discern for himself the level of sanctity you deserved. He wanted to see your face. 

Finally, he’s able to demure from the conversation, the promise of ten million euro for the charity of the sycophant’s choice, promised off-handedly – any amount of money would’ve been too little to get the gaping, begging maw to quit it’s yapping. 

He slinks along the shadows of the walls, a vulture in its natural habitat. The lights brought down to a low warm hue, meant to shape itself along the contours of your skin, bring out the soft gleam within you. Surely the oldest trick in the book, that of light and shadows. He moves further into the room slowly, your back to him. The plush round of your bottom comes into view, two little dimples gracing the low of your back, the notches of your spine, up, up, to the heavy mantle of your hair. You’re resting on your hip, your torso twisted so your chest is pressed to the chaise you lounge on, your head laying cradled in the circle of your bent arms. There is a tiny, delicate outline of a sparrow tattooed at your shoulder. He watches the slow rise and fall of your back, the shadow of your ribs – he’d feed you more if you were his. The thought comes unbidden – a little shocking – a lovely bottom, beautiful, long hair, but for a man like Ezra – one who so wholly avoided any sort of ownership by another or over another, the thought of such intimacy, something to cause revulsion, not desire, coming from his own psyche, it’s almost distressing to acknowledge as his own. 

The crown of your head gleams like a halo in the soft overhead gallery light. The room is muted, voices hushed, and the patrons rove around your unmoving body, the rhythm of your breath the only discernible sign of life on your form from back here. Oruf had claimed that you did not move a single millimeter during the entirety of the three hour long performance. He sure as fuck didn’t believe that. He was having a quite, self proclaimed, contrary and bitter season, by his own choosing, and was prone to bouts of obstinance and general disagreement at anything and everything that presented itself to him. He was choosing, as of now, to not believe in your myth.

He moves further around the center where you lay in repose. He needs to see your face. That will give him the answer he’s come here for. 

There’s a large group standing right in front of you – rudely pointing, whispering, and he feels a surge of annoyance at the sight of them. You were here to be observed, appreciated, not fucking ogled like some cheap attraction, and he was here to see you – they needed to get the fuck out of his way. 

Finally, they shuffle off, leaving the space directly in front of you open. He makes the final round above your head, comes to stand before you. Oruf had said the only part of you that moved were your eyes.

They fall on Ezra now. 

It could have been as if, in that moment, you’d gotten up, naked as Venus, to shriek directly in his face. That powerful was the force behind your gaze – a punch to the gut, his mothers handbag swinging unexpectedly, purposefully into his stomach as he scurried meekly behind her as a child. 

He pulls his Jacques Marie Mage frames from his nose. He needs to look away from the searing power of your attention. He needs a moment to collect himself, taking deep breaths as he studies the glasses, runs the tip of his finger over the bridge. He’s held frozen in place by the feel of your gaze still upon him. 

He decides in that very instant he has to have you. 

When he looks back at you, your eyes flit away. He is dismissed – made ravenous. On the verge of tears, perhaps. Look back at me, look back at me, look back at me. What sort of reaction is this to a woman whose name he doesn’t even know? Nonsensical. Perhaps it’s the sleep deprivation – the edibles he’d downed before coming, maybe he’s having a bad reaction. 

But the gift of your slow, lazy gaze roves around the space he inhabits now, everywhere but directly at him, almost like a punishment for having looked away from you first – even for a second. 

He’s never considered the prospect of trying to buy a person. The moral question or dilemma of it. He decides he doesn’t necessarily care. Whatever he has to do to get you to leave this place with him, he’ll do. What he’ll be able to bring himself to let happen after that,  if he’ll even be able to touch you, be brave enough to let you touch him, remains to be seen. Inconsequential too, he finds. 

He circles the gallery for close to an hour before he can no longer help himself, can no longer feign casualness. The rest of the art here is pale and dull in the light of your luminescence. He finally comes to a stop in a corner diagonal from where you face, in the shadow of the sculpture of Paolo e Virginia. At this moment, he feels certain Puttinati prophecised your existence, to so depict the vision of reverence he’s feeling for you in this moment. 

The performance is three hours long. In that time you don’t move your body at all, Oruf was right – lying with the stillness of marble. The only thing that moves are your eyes, and you watch the patrons closely, examine them. Your gaze is part of the art, part of the power of it. 

The visage of you is shocking, not for your nudity, but because in a lifetime filled with unimaginably lovely things, you are, by far, the most magnificently gorgeous creature Ezra has ever laid eyes on. It is like a recurring bullet to the temple over and over again for the visceral shock you pull out of him. 

Finally, finally, your gaze falls on him again. The meeting of your eyes, like the strike of lightning against the earth. He can feel his cock thicken, grow heavy, just at the touch of your gaze. It’s voyeuristic – unexpected – he can’t remember the last time he got hard. He feels almost perverted, sporting an erection at the mere sight of you, surrounded by all these people in this crowded gallery.

He can’t see your breasts entirely, pressed to the chaise as they are, only the full, pale sides. He wonders desperately at the color of your nipples, the shade, the hue. He’d like to imprint it in his mind. Know the taste of them, as well, of all your skin – wonders if the color there matches that of the skin between your legs. The thought causes hunger to climb like fire up his chest into his throat, saliva pooling heavy in his mouth at the mere suggestion of your cunt in his mind.

His eyes leave you for a moment, to cast the wide net of his gaze around the room, at the other men. He wonders if they’re hard too, if only your naked skin, lying still in repose, has the power to make their blood rush, their muscles thicken. He is not pleased by the thought of that. And when he comes back to you, you’re still on him. Gaze roaming down his body, taking in the fine cashmere sweater, his perfectly tailored suit, built to hang in a precisely designed loose cut over his shoulders, down his long legs, the incongruous sneakers, back, back up to his face, the spot of blonde at the front of his hair. A single delicate eyebrow crooks in a minute arch at him. It is all the answer he needs

You are looking back at him. It’s all he needs to know. 

As the three hour mark comes to a head the lights dim even further until only a singular overhead spotlight falls upon your form. Your skin glows, seems to flare brighter for a single moment, and then a golden sheet of gossamer begins to slowly fall from the ceiling, and right before it lands upon your body, you finally move. Your body stretches, toes pointing and curling, long arms stretched in an arc over your head. The fine lines and slopes of your body coming into startling clarity for one moment, and then you turn over, away from him, where he can’t see your face anymore, and curl in on yourself. The golden gusset falls upon your coiled form, as if you’ve finally been put to rest. The lights dim until all that’s visible is the luminous gleam of the shroud over your curled body. 

You are a girl made of golden myth and gossamer, and he must have you. 

-

“Hello, Sparrow.” He steps into the small, warm space of your dressing room.

You turn to face him, you’ve been waiting for him. “Hello,” you say slowly. “You were watching me.”

“Everyone was watching you.”

“Not like you were–”

“No… not like I was.” His accent is some strange sort of concoction of eclectic European – at once French, but also slightly Germanic, with an inflection of deep American South at the end. The vowels and consonants rolling off his tongue, smooth and hypnotizing like the warm pour of honey, and then, suddenly, inflected with a bout of sharpness. Something that snaps you awake, forces you to come to attention, to pay attention to him. That was all it was really, you could tell, a forceful, demanding grab for attention at all times. He called it to himself, seduced the people around him into ardor. Whether they knowingly chose to be entranced or not, was not up to them.

“Ezra,” he gives an imitation of a little flourished bow. You give him your own name in return. “You were watching me back.” 

“I couldn’t help it.” He had demanded it of you, after all, no need to lie now. 

“I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me.” You turn back to continue packing your bag. 

“I’m not very hungry.” You feel him come closer, hear the subtle hint of pleading desperation in his sensual voice that has pleasure coiling deep in your belly. 

“A drink then.”

You’d like to be on clear ground with this man who you can see, even now, is an enigma not to be trifled with unconscionably. “Where? At your house?” you turn to crook a sardonic brow at him.

“Would you like me to take you to my house?”

“Yes. If that’s what you want too.” You’d already decided, didn’t see the point in prolonging the game. 

-

His security takes you out the back of the gallery, dark Maybach rolling smoothly up as soon as you reach the curb, and you feel the searing phantom  heat of his large palm hovering over the small of your back. 

He hasn’t touched you a single time yet, and everything within you is coiled tight, waiting for that first graze. 

He pulls the car door open for you himself, and then his driver is there, smoothly offering you his hand to help you step into the sleek interior. The leather beneath you is buttery chocolate brown and you press your thighs together. His security had taken your bag from you, and you felt bereft and listless without the protective clutch of it within your hands now. 

He follows after you, sliding gracefully onto the seat across. You can see he’s wearing two gold chains around his neck that rest in the dip of his collarbones, and your mouth waters at the sight. The car pulls quietly away from the curb and then you’re merging into the busy city traffic, ensconced in the quiet of this liminal space he’s stolen you into with him. 

He crosses one knee over the other, one thick arm thrown languidly over the back of the seat. You can see a small gold signet ring gracing his pinky – some sort of crest emblazoned on it. 

Fucking family crest kind of rich. God. You don’t know if you’re prepared for this. 

You cock your head to the side, the muscles in your neck are a little stiff and sore from holding your pose for so long, and you let your neck roll back on the head rest. 

He’s quiet, still observing, as if you’re still existing within the walls of the gallery, and not being spirited away to his home so that he might have his way with you. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” Might as well be blunt, you think, now that you’re here. He was so gorgeous in that room, watching you, circling you like a beast hunting in the wild. There was really no other way this night was destined to end, but with you beneath him, taking him into your cunt. 

“Would you like me to fuck you?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t respond, only gives you a melodic little non-committal hum, continues to look at you from the seat across with those deceptively guileless eyes. You want him to snatch you by the chin and spit in your mouth.

-

The drive ends in front of the grand façade of a pristine Parisian townhouse on a secluded street in the 16th arrondissement – flanked by national embassies, no less. 

You are very, very far from home. In a Paris you’ve not ventured into in all your years of living here. 

He helps you from the car, finally, finally, finally, thick palm wrapping entirely around the thin of your wrist. Everything within you coils and pulses, tight and wet. His skin is warm and dry, you can feel the pull of rough calluses on his palm. You’re sure he can feel the hammering staccato of your pulse through the thin membrane as you stare at the way his fingers overlap completely around the circumference of your limb.

He lets you step into the foyer ahead of him as one of his staff sweeps the door open for the two of you, ready and waiting for their master to return with a respectably quiet, monsieur, mademoiselle, in greeting. There’s a huge Basquiat in the entrance hall, across from the sweeping staircase.

“Lots of his art came my way,” he says at your obvious admiration, shock, desire to tuck tail and run back home. “We weren’t friends, but I was roommates with a guy he’d lived with. His last girlfriend was best friends with my girlfriend at the time, so when he died we had one of the first calls.”

“It’s wonderful–” Your voice is full of awe, eyes taking in a type of home you’ve never seen before up close like this. Something out of a picture book that sits on the coffee table of someone wishing for more. 

“How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Well… they get used for different things – so I’m not sure. Let’s call it eight.”

You huff a small laugh, run your finger along the keys of the opulent crystal Steinway. “Let’s call it eight, sure.”

Now that you’re here, that he hasn’t overtly said he’s brought you here for sex, you don’t really know what it is he wants from you. A bad thought, but an honest one. 

“Drink?”

“Yes, please.”

He leads you into an elegantly lush reception room, hovering hand again at the place above the small of your back. There’s a gargantuan crystal chandelier hanging at the center of the room, two enormous elephant tusks flank the elaborate mantelpiece. The room is a mix of eclectic eccentricities, both neutrally elegant and demure in its obvious wealth, but inflected with touches of vibrant color and idiosyncrasies to bring the room together in a way that you think must reflect the house’s owner. 

He moves to the bar, choosing the green bottle of twenty year Laphroaig and pours a knuckle into two crystal tumblers. He’s quiet, subdued, and the lack of small talk to fill the silence has the backs of your knees itching and sweating. 

There’s a glossy red panther sculpture prowling across a gold and ivory lacquered coffee table. He comes to hand your glass to you. “That’s a museum piece. I can’t remember where I got it, but it’s rare.” You can’t tell if he’s trying to boast, to impress you, or merely share his satisfaction at owning a piece of art worthy of a museum's gallery. You’d already discerned that at the Basquiat’s first glance, shit, at the first sight of the house. It was a veritable museum on its own. You were sure the number of museum pieces in every room were too many to count in a single night, nay week. 

You don’t sit as he goes to do, but start to slowly circle the room. An imitation of his slow roving of you earlier at the gallery. The peat whisky is bold and smoky, a surprising hint of something akin to seawater, but also mellowly sweet. You think that this must be what his skin tastes like, his come – an amalgamation of all the different flavors on the wheel. Saliva pools heavy on your tongue and you take a deeper sip, eyes flitting to him. 

“Three hours is a long time to lay so still,” he says. 

“It is. But I’m used to it by now.”

“You must be tired.”

“Not particularly – perhaps a bit stiff.”

“Have you been doing this for a long time?”

“Not so long, but not so short, either.”

“So just the right amount?”

“Yes.” He’s quiet for a moment then, still watching, watching, watching. His gaze upon you feels like the drag of a specter’s fingers along your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. You wonder if this is how he felt while you watched him in the low light of the gallery. Hunted. But no, you imagine there isn’t anything that could make a man such as this feel like prey. 

“Can I draw you a bath?” You pause at this – firmer, more familiar ground, finally. This is what you’ve been waiting for. His request for you to get naked for him, to let him into your body. It’s what you want also. He’s not rushing this, and it’s making you feel unstable, unsure of the ground you’re treading here together. 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

-

He leads you upstairs, to one of the guest bedrooms. The en suite, one of his favorites in the house – dark marble tub in the center of the room under a low hanging crystal chandelier. The French windows let in the soft glow of the moon outside, and he draws the bath for you as you peer through the glass. The reflection of your face in the windows, eternally distracting. 

When the water is warm and ready, a splash of Neroli Portofino Body Oil poured under the stream, he turns to you. He’s hesitant – both of himself and you, equally. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a body not his own, and he feels the slight anxious tremor of his hands. Although he can’t be sure if that’s strictly attributed to nerves, or all the blood in his body pooling in his cock at the moment. 

“Can I take your clothes off?” said as gently as possible, so as not to spook you.

Your gaze is as direct as it was while you lay watching him, surrounded by half of Paris. “Yes.”

He starts at the tiny bow holding the front of your soft silk blouse together – the weave so fine, it’s almost translucent, and he can see the outline of your evasive nipples he’s been so desperate to see. He pulls on the string letting the neck of the blouse fall open, then down to the tiny pearl buttons holding the rest of it together. All without touching your skin. 

You’re panting, face already flushed, eyes bright, almost fevered. His balls are tight and heavy, ready to come, just with this. Just at the mere fucking vision of you ready and panting for him. His belly clenches and then he pushes the silk off the fine bones of your shoulders. The wings of your collarbones, the shadow of the dip in them the most tempting image he’s ever beheld in his entire life. He wants to dip his tongue into the tiny pool, fill them with ambrosia and drink directly from your skin. 

He feels his cock begin to leak. 

The zipper at the side of your skirt is next. He watches the rise and fall of your ribs, the tremble of your throat as he pulls it down slowly, revealing the rest of your skin to him. There’s a tiny lace thong around your hips, robin's egg blue. Oh, he will be stealing that for himself. 

He finally lets himself touch your skin as he pushes the scrap of lace down your legs, crouching smoothly to his knees to help you step out of it. He takes in the sight of your small feet up close now. The fine tendons of your musculature entirely too fucking beguiling. He ghosts the tip of a single finger over the top of your foot and you moan for him. So goddamn sweet and wanton. 

He unfolds to his full height and pockets your panties. To be inspected at a later time, pressed to his nose and mouth so that he might drink the scent of you down into himself. He tips his chin at the tub now, holding your wild gaze, breaths coming in short little gasps. Your cheeks are flushed the color of your nipples. The tiny wisps of hair at your neck and temples beginning to curl deliciously in the humidity of the bathroom. He could spill his seed just at the look in your eyes, he’s sure of it. 

“In,” he orders, crowds you towards the edge of the tub and grips the bend of your elbow between his thumb and index finger – as little contact as possible – to help you into the water. “Sit.”

You immediately obey, and that fills him with more pleasure than the sight of your naked skin. The control you’re granting him right now, allowing him the privilege of ordering you for the sake of his own comfort – he’s going to reward you very well for being so good for him.

He bends over the edge of the tub, hovering over your beseeching upturned face. He brushes his thumb softly over your full bottom lip. “Good girl.” Your eyes flutter shut, you look down into the water, a lovely pink blush blossoming over your cheeks. “Relax. Soak for a while.”

He can tell you want him. Badly. The flush of your cheeks down to your breasts, rosy little nipples peaked, your quick breath. That want, compounded doubly by his refusal so far to really touch you — his inability. The more he stays his hand, the more you want him, and the more you want him the harder his cock grows, the more frightened he becomes. He thinks it’s very true, that old adage, the harder you try to push a woman away from a man, the closer she will go to him by virtue of rebellion.

You sit in the warm bath for close to an hour, and he watches rapturously, hypnotized by the slick wet of the water rolling over your skin, from his seat on an ottoman at the center of the room. The weight of his gaze on your skin, almost violent in its intense desire. He wants to lick every single droplet from your body and then bite into the heavy lush weight of your tits until his teeth are imprinted in the soft flesh, bruises sucked into the pale globes. He hopes you’ll let him. He hopes he’ll let himself. 

Your returning look is equally wanton. He watches your gaze trained and hungry on the heft of his cock hiding beneath his trousers. You spread your legs for him beneath the water as you wash yourself, putting on another show, private, just for him. An unjustly jealous wrath stirs within him, coiled and hissing, at the thought of any other human on earth ever getting to see you the way he is now. Largely a passive man, the violence that surges within him has him surprised and not, in equal measures. For he thinks that no being ever having beheld you, could ever possibly be driven to feel any other way than obsessively possessive over such a creature as yourself. You’re like a siren in this moment, languishing in the warm water of his bath, in his house, where you agreed to come with him tonight. A nymph willingly slinking into the depth of Tartarus, knowing she’s in peril of being wholly devoured by the beasts that lay at its depths, and still going anyways. 

He helps you out after a while, tiny little fingers and toes soaked to wrinkles, elbow once again caught between his two fingers, and the heat rolling off your skin sears him. Has a violent tremble running jaggedly down his vertebrae. 

He wraps you in a plush white towel, pulled from the warming rack, helps you dry your long hair. Then goes to his room for one of his shirts to put you in. He pulls one he’d worn a few days ago off the pile from the chair in the corner. He wants to know you’re sleeping in something that’s already been on his skin, that smells like him, that you’re soaking now in his own scent. 

As he pulls the towel from around your body to once again reveal your bare form to him he presses a soft kiss to your naked waist – can’t help himself, the soft slope entirely too beguiling. Overtaking any apprehensions he may have, and his gut clenches with fear and desire. He can feel the weeping of his cock dribble down his thigh as he presses his lips to the warm, fragrant skin. 

You’re quiet, watching him, letting him do with you as he wants. His own little sentient doll, created for his pleasure only. “I have a farm in Brazil,” he says. He rounds your form, starts to braid the long strands of your hair into a single plait. You put up no protest – it feels like water, slipping through his hands.  “We grow organic fruit and vegetables and there’s cows, lots of cows. We never kill them, they just live there, graze.” One of his favorite places in the entire world, but perhaps, second to the place he resides now, staring at you, dressing you, touching your hair. “I love it there, I’ll take you.”

“Okay,” you say easily. “I’d like that,” the gift of the gentle curve of your smile. He wants to lick into your mouth, fuck you with his tongue, slap your pussy and watch the blood rush to the surface, feel the tight clench of your asshole as he fills you with his come. 

“Will you let me watch you play with your cunt?” he asks gently.

“Won’t you do it?”

“I’m scared to touch you yet – to find out if you’re actually real.” He feels an uncharacteristically self conscious blush mar his cheeks. “I–I’m not ready. I want to watch first.” He comes to kneel between your parted thighs that dangle off the high bed. “Pet your cunt for me – show me how you like it, sweet girl. Please.” He is not above begging. Not for this. Not for you – for the sight of you playing with your wet, pink pussy. 

You spread your legs wider, give him the tantalizing peak of your bare sex, your glistening folds. You’re already fucking wet for him. He feels an unrestrained growl claw up his throat like fire. His mouth goes dry, parched. The only way to sate himself, to drink straight from the source of your glossy slick. 

You press your fingers to the pearl of your clit, swollen and needy already, he can see. You start to swirl little circles over your slippery flesh, your wet mouth falling open in a gasp. “That’s it, yeah–” he whispers, bringing his face in closer to the apex of your thighs so he can smell you directly from the source. His eyes flutter as he breathes in the scent of you, the deep amber and citrus from the bath oil, but beneath that, entwined in the rich notes, the musky scent of you. Fucking mouthwatering. He hears himself moan, the sound pulled almost unconsciously from his body. 

“Inside– put your fingers inside. Let me see you fuck yourself.” You press a single finger in, all the way to the last knuckle, and start to rock your hips. He can feel your gaze on his face, the weight of it heavy and pleading.

“Ezra– p–please, please, you do it,” you beg, let your head roll back as you press another finger in and start to rock your clit against the mound of your palm in earnest.

“But you’re doing so well, sweet girl. About to make that little cunt come for me. Look–” He gives you the weight of a single palm on the bend of your knee and you moan deep and ragged at just that compact touch. He can’t help himself – he pulls the edge of the t-shirt up to bare your tits to him and holds it up against the base of your throat where he cradles the delicate column in his hand – the entire large span of him completely engulfing your smallness. “Your thighs are trembling, treasure. You’re going to do it just for me, aren’t you?.”

“Y–Yes, yes–” 

He pushes your knee in his grasp wider, opening you more for the fileting of gaze. “Make yourself come – I want to see it. Fucking come,” it’s a demand you answer, just the sound of it causing the heat of your skin to seemingly ricochet even higher. You start to come – he watches the clenching of the muscles in your stomach as you grind your fingers deep. He can hear how wet you are, the sopping wet squelch of your pulsing cunt, and he worries for one second that he’s about to come in his pants. 

You let out a reed high mewl, like you’re singing just for him. “What a good, good girl you are,” he praises, and your eyes flutter shut, pulling your fingers away so that he’s left to admire the clenching of your stretched hole. He can see the glossy shine of your slick sliding down the crevice of your ass, and he wants to lick through your sticky arousal so fucking badly he bites down on his cheek until he tastes blood. He bends his head to press his brow to the edge of the bed between your spread thighs, tightening his grip around your knee until you whimper in pain. He loosens his hold immediately, thumb brushing soothingly over the bend before he stands, lets out a long breath. He stares down at your panting, flushed form. Wet and sated after your orgasm. Fuck all the art in the world. He’d set fire to every single masterpiece he owns in this very moment if he was granted the gift of getting to watch you come even one single time more. 

He passes his palm over his mouth, feeling the soft bristles of his scruff. He’d like to see the smooth insides of your thighs rubbed raw with it, he’d like to see the stretch of your cunt as he stuffs you full of himself, the milky white of his spend leaking from all your holes. 

“It’s time to put you to bed,” he says instead. 

Your brow creases in the sweetest little frown, red mouth puckering, still panting. “You’re not staying?” 

“No, sweet girl. I think it’s best if you sleep here tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“But–”

“It’s alright. There’s no rush.” He leans over you to press a lingering kiss to your brow, pulls his shirt down to cover your breasts. You give him a little whimper, and he allows your hand to come up to clutch the thick swell of his bicep, the heavy muscle there bunching at the feel of your grip. He moves to help you settle beneath the silk duvet, pleased beyond belief at the sight of you tucked into a bed in his home, wearing his clothes, flushed and wearing the sated look of a recent orgasm. 

“Goodnight, treasure.”

“Goodnight, Ezra.”

-

You find his room later. You can’t help yourself, following the glow of the soft light spilling between the crack of his slightly open door, like he’d left you a bread crumb trail to follow, like he knew you’d come searching. You can’t sleep knowing he’s so close, this dazzling creature come straight from a dream. Twisting and turning in the plush monstrosity of a bed he’d left you in. His shirt, butter soft, the dark, gray blue swimming around your much smaller frame. It smells like him, his cologne – you recognize the scent of Le Labo Another 13. Musky with the softest most subtle hint of jasmine, paired with something earthier – greener, and folded between all that: the soft saltiness of his sweat.  Why would you sleep when a figure from your very fantasies was right here in the flesh. Your cunt clenches, wet and aching, even after he’d watched you make yourself come. You need more, want to feel the press of his cock inside of you, the heavy weight of it. 

He’s sitting up in bed, reading something on an iPad, glasses propped low on his nose. He looks up at your small knock, not waiting for his permission to slip inside. 

“I promise, I’ll be good.” You hold your hands up in surrender. “I won’t touch you. We can put a pillow between us if you like.” You move towards the bed.

There’s a large stack of books sitting on his bedside table, flooded by the warm moss stained light of the antique Tiffany lamp. A single idiosyncrasy of old world charm in a room made stark by its bright modernity. The pile is made up of a book of paintings by Howard Hodgkin, the diaries of Alma Mahler, The Spectator Bird by Wallace Stegner, the fourth volume of In Search of Lost Time – you appreciate his excellent taste – and at the very top, laying open, facedown, as if he’d just put it down a moment ago, My Struggle by Karl Ove Knausgaard. You find it fascinating to see a book that spoke of life in such a granular way — realistic, simple, a normal man in a normal world, speaking in such extensive, caring detail on the small things in his life — on the bedside table of this enigma, this person who seemed to be, by far and large, a different species to all other men you’d ever met before. To see the spine so cracked and worn — as if he’d read it over and over again, in search of the equation for that simplicity, to thus inject into his own existence – a way to embalm his own world in such appreciation for the small but infinitely significant moments. You wonder if it’s taught him much— if he’s been able to find and implement whatever it was he’d searched for through so many reads. 

“Alright,” he says easily, but the look in his eyes is slightly wary. You recognize Glenn Gould’s rendition of the Goldberg Variations playing softly on the surround sound as you crawl into his bed – under the silk smooth sheets, bringing a pillow to blockade you from him, protect him. You don’t want him to be uncomfortable, but you desperately want to be close to him also. The two of you have barely talked tonight – too caught up in the observation of one another, like two animals circling in the wild. You want to talk to him. Want to hear the sound of his deep voice vibrate through your nerve endings. 

“Intimacy is… difficult for me,” he says slowly, swallowing. “It’s hard for me to get close to people… emotionally, physically. I need time to — I suppose, to warm up to them.”

“That’s — that’s okay. I understand,” you say, because you do, because you’re the same in many ways. 

“It’s why I love art,” he continues. “You can be close to something, feel its warmth, beauty – whatever feeling it is the artist intended to pull out of you, from a distance. Untouched – it’s untouchable. That comforts me for some reason.”

“I think – I think I understand that as well. Something, perhaps, about the idea of a thing remaining as it was initially conceived as, for all time, undisturbed by outside influences.”

“Yes – yes, exactly.” His eyes are alive with the fire of being understood.

You look down at his straining erection. You can’t help it. “You’re hard,” you say. You want to touch him so badly it’s a physical ache inside of you. 

“I’ve been hard since I first saw you.”

“Let me help.”

He shakes his head, “Not yet.”

“I was embarrassed that the other patrons would be able to tell how wet my pussy was lying there staring at you.” Shocking words. His eyes flutter shut, fuck, he murmurs under his breath, brings his hand up to rub at his jaw. You’ve noticed he does that a lot – a tell of sorts. He takes several deep breaths, the tension seeming to seep out of his body by sheer force of will. 

You take him in as he settles back into the pillows, relaxing, or at least pretending to. His face, smooth and serene, laying there watching you, despite his heavy erection, but the look in his eyes – it’s also slightly provoking. As if he wants you to challenge him, question him, but also afraid, perhaps, that you’ll force his hand, that he’ll be forced to give in to what you both want before he’s ready. You decide to choose mercy – change the subject. More curious to see how he chooses to play this out.

“Let’s play the question game.”

“The question game?”

“Yes.”

“Very well,” he turns to lay on his side, facing you. Both of your hands are tucked beneath your cheeks. He’s wearing a soft, worn sweater, a tiny hole at the collar, the sleeves stretched and overly long. Oh, this may just be too much for you to handle. 

“We’ll start with something easy – what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s easy?”

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing.

“Depends on the day,” he says very seriously. His blinks are slow, his pupils huge and dilated in the warm light of the lamp. You wonder if he’s taken something. Every time he blinks the thick fringe of his lashes fans over his cheeks, the pause of his languor allows you a moment to appreciate them.

“That’s not an answer – you have to give a real answer.” You want to reach your finger out and brush along that thick fringe, through the patchy hair on his face, threaded through with the smallest hint of silver, stick your nose in his hair and smell him right at the source. 

“It’s the only real answer there is – no one’s favorite color stays their favorite color forever.”

“Do you do this a lot?”

“What’s that?”

“Make things purposely difficult.”

A flash of his brilliant white teeth, “Oh, always.” You want very badly for him to bite into your flesh. 

“Okay, fine. What’s your favorite color right now?”

Without hesitation: “The color of your eyes – they’re very strange,” you can tell it’s a compliment, and he finally touches you again. A single finger, just the tip, to the point of your chin, tilting your head back slightly for his inspection, as if you were one of the pieces in his collection. You think you may become one by the end of this. You think you’d like that very much. You can feel the slight edge of his fingernail dig into your soft skin. 

“I already agreed to fuck you. You don’t have to woo me,” you breathe. You realize that, as of yet, he’s not overtly asked you to have sex with him – you throw the words out anyways, hoping to provoke him. This is too much. This man is too much. You don’t know what it is about him, but you want him desperately, like no one you’ve ever wanted before. You want him to overwhelm you – to take you by force. To take all choice and will and autonomy from your hands. You don’t care what will come of this, what will become of you after he’s done with you, if he discards you, forgets you –  none of that matters. All you care about, in this moment, is that he finally decides to take you, that he gives you the opportunity to let go, to relinquish control. To unfold from the pose for just a moment. A slightly deranged spark fizzes in your belly. Your heart pinches a burning little pain at the thought that he hasn’t kissed you yet, that you still don’t know the taste of his mouth. 

“None of my answers satisfy you. And yes, I do need to woo you. I find it very necessary.”

You try and emulate an unaffected scoff, his finger is still on your chin, but you feel your brow unwittingly fold into a confused frown. There is a tight knot of want coiled at the very center of you, burning hot and smoldering, and you need him to pick it apart with these strong fingers. He takes his hand away. The look on his face is very telling. He can read everything going on in your mind, you can tell. He looks like the cat that ate the goddamn canary. You try and take a deep, calming breath. “Alright, now you have to ask me one?” you divert. 

“Me?”

“Yes, you – that’s how the game works. I do one, you do one.”

“Alright,” he’s quiet for a second, contemplating, “Do you have siblings?”

“No, I’m an only child. Do you?”

“I had a brother, Damon. He died when we were younger.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, well– it was a very long time ago. But thank you. His daughter, Cee, is my ward now. ” Not his niece, not someone mentioned in any capacity as his family. The connection, maintained as if at a distance — his ward — cold. But he gives himself away, his tender vulnerability made transparent, with the sudden flash of bright fondness in his eyes at her name, despite his trying to remain aloof. You are not so easily fooled. You see him despite his attempts to deflect from the true core of himself. 

His gaze is so mercurial – at once relaxed, uncaring, and then flaring into something bright hot like a flash fire. But remote, remote always. Like the very center of him, his true gaze is very far away, very deep within him, and this gaze, the one he presents to the world, is merely a farce, a mask. A shroud he pulls over himself to keep others out. His own golden gossamer. You’re shocked that he’s shared this with you. 

“My parents died when I was very young,” you offer, your own morsel of ragged soul in the face of his sudden vulnerability. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, as well.”

“It wasn’t so bad, after the fact. I went to live with my aunt – my mother’s sister. She was a dancer. My childhood was… unconventional, but wonderful.”

“What about it was unconventional?”

You laugh a little, looking up at the coffered ceiling above you, the thick beams a rich, glossy mahogany. You feel his gaze on your face like a brand. He has not stopped looking at you since he first started. In a sea of years being observed, his gaze is singular in the pleasure it brings you.

“She was a dancer. I mean—” you hum, “What wasn’t unconventional about it? We lived in New York for several years, then Budapest for a time, and then she brought us here, to Paris, where we stayed until her death – where I’ve stayed since. Her girlfriends were always around – fellow dancers, costumes and makeup, drinking and men. They taught me how to smoke when I was eight — Gauloises like a fucking chimney, at all hours of the day, after that — I forced myself to stop a few years ago. Now I only have one on special occasions, sometimes.” He looks at you like he knows you’re the sort to make a special occasion out of a trip to the market. “She had many lovers. Parties… disaster everywhere, but the riotous, happy sort – not the tragic kind.”

“No?”

“No. Perhaps, to the outside eye it may have appeared different… I don’t know. No life for a child, I think. But it was wonderful. She always protected me. But– but never like a mother. She was never like a mother – more like – a friend, or an older sister.” You laugh fondly at the memories, but also a little sadly. In the eyes of an adult now, you’d never want such a life for a child of your own, as exciting as it was at the time.

“One time someone told me I ended up as I did, naked for the world to ogle at, as a means to earn money, because of her. Because of how she was. And perhaps they were right, but… but not in the way they meant —  to insult me. She taught me what art was, gave me the means to turn myself into it.” 

“Who the fuck said that to you?” His tone makes you look back at him now. All the mystery in his gaze is gone, only fury burns now – very clearly. If he’d let you, you’d cup his cheek, soothe him. 

You can see he isn’t ready yet, though. So all you say is: no one that really mattered – the truth, but you can see that it does not soothe him. 

 “What about you? What was your mother like?” You can appreciate how easily distracted he pretends to be, the deception of it, merely another shroud. 

Another one of his long pauses, filled with his eyes on you. He gives you the gift of his touch again. Thick fingers picking up a strand of your hair, running it between his grasp. You feel the slight ghost-like tingle of the tug along your scalp, there but also not, and a jerking shiver moves through you. All the hair on your body standing on end. Fuck, this man. 

“She was very beautiful – very cruel,” he says slowly, mesmerized by your hair sliding through his fingers. 

“Cruel to you?”

“To the world.”

“Why?”

“But also me.” Succinct in its truth. The thought is a terrible one – for anyone to have been cruel to this magnificent dream of a man. The backs of your eyes pinch. Another long pause. “Hmm,” he tilts his head side to side, still sliding your hair through his fingers, twisting it gently around his hair. He gives it a tiny tug, and you want to scoot forward, even just the smallest bit, just to be a little closer to him, to feel the brush of his belly against yours with the movement of his breathing. “It’s difficult to say – unhappiness, bitterness, boredom. A great and complicated concoction of things that made her into the eternally complex creature she was.”

“She died?”

“Yes. She killed herself.”

“Ezra– I’m so sorry,” the words leave you choked and breathless. 

He says it so plainly, starkly, like a slap to the face, one not meant to cause pain or harm, but shock. One meant to cause fear, something to say, look at how fucked up I am, stay away or I’ll infect you with it too. You scoot closer now, you can’t help it, and he goes immediately still, frozen – eyes wide, hesitant, but you don’t touch him. Your hair is still clutched in his hand, and his eyes move back and forth between your own and his hold on you. You’re close enough now, though, that you can feel the heat rolling off his body. Your eyes flutter shut, you say again: “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“She was too vain to grow to old age.” You feel him relax, comforted by the indication that you’re not going to touch him just yet. “I think she felt it was the only recourse for her.”

You open your eyes again, and he’s still staring at you. You so badly want to know what he’s thinking, to feel the press of his mouth against yours, to know the taste of his tongue, the feel of his incisors pressing into your skin. 

You pivot three-sixty again: “Do you want kids?” He lets out a loud barking laugh at that, head thrown back so the tendons in his neck jump out starkly. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Wet and jealous. 

“This is a very difficult game,” he says, giving you a sly look. 

“We don’t have to play anymore, if you don’t want to.” A great lie – you never want to stop playing with him. 

“No, I want to keep going.” He slides his whole hand into your hair now, palm cupping the entire side of your head in its broad expanse, and you can’t help the desperate moan that claws out of your throat. His responding hum is all-knowing.  “I don’t know. But I love being… I like being able to imagine it.”

Your mind has been lost to a daze induced by the heat of his palm. “Children?” you murmur.

“Yes.”

Your fingers are twisted into the front of your shirt, clawing at yourself to maintain respect for his boundaries. “I want them. Lots of them. I hated being an only child. I always felt alone. I want to have lots of babies.” And his eyes flare with heat at that. The first blazing sign of lust in them tonight. Everything else before this, you realize, was merely a low simmering boil. The fist in your hair tightens so that your head tilts back slightly, the line of your throat exposed for his eyes to follow. 

“Lots of them?” You nod your head minutely, wide eyed, equally ensnared by that look in his gaze as you are by his hand. 

“Then you shall have them, Sparrow.” You let out a shuddering breath, turn your face into the pillow, enjoying the slight pull to your sensitive scalp as his hand follows, try to breathe deep, temper your racing heart. You’re so wet, you can feel it seeping out of you in a constant throbbing stream. The conversation serving as a more intense form of foreplay than anything else you’ve ever done with a man. 

“It’s my turn again. When was the last time you fucked someone?” Blunt – thrown at your face to throw you off kilter. Oh, he fucking loves this. A broken little whimper claws out of your throat at that. Your cheeks are flushed, you can feel them burning, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. The smug look in his eyes taunts you, tells you he knows just how soaked you are. But it is also wild, as wanting as you are. 

“Hmm?” he presses.

“Three years ago.” It’s his turn to be shocked now. You see the pause of surprise in that bright light within his gaze. 

“Three years? Why?”

“You’re not the only one who finds it difficult to be close to people.”

“And yet you agreed to come here with me?”

“And yet I agreed to come here with you.” You don’t return the question. You wouldn’t like to know, you don’t think. And you can tell he sees that in your gaze, for he doesn’t offer up the information either. You like the mystique of him. Like some eldritch beast, a deity of old, something amorphous, not to be contained or understood. The unknowable aspect of him is appealing to you for reasons you haven't quite figured out yet, despite this game of questions you’re flirting with. 

You go next: “Are you lonely?”

“Yes, very.” A pause, and then: “You are too.” This is no question. He can see it, recognizes the same scent of it that permeates the air around him, following you. “You seemed it, laying in the center of that crowded room, naked – bared for everyone to see.” It is not said cruelly. He is only telling you that which you already know about yourself, that which is plain for the whole world to see. “And then shrouded in gold, as if you wanted to hide that vein of aloneness that flows through you – it didn’t work very well.”

“Do you think everyone could see it?”

“No.” Good. You only wanted him. 

You take another turn, you can’t help but break the rules with him. “Have you ever been with someone who– who you didn’t really want to be with, but you were– you were so lonely and needed… something… or someone?” All the surety you’d posed your previous questions with is gone now. He’s already discerned so much of you, what’s a little more bared skin? “So you just– you just settled for being with that person even though you knew it was wrong, and the only thing on your mind was the other person you really wanted to be with?”

Without hesitation: “Yes.”

“I think that’s the only type of relationship I’ve ever had. Although, the other person hasn’t really existed – just – just something I’ve thought up in my own head.”

“I accidentally called her by the other person’s name. She never spoke to me again. It was terrible– terrible of me.”

“I want to touch you so badly,” you plead suddenly. Unable to hold it in anymore in the light of all he’s shared with you. Your voice cracking and begging. “I want you to touch me, so badly.”

“I know.” Yes, he does. “You want me to fuck you.” All you can do is let your eyes flutter shut, try to continue to breathe, nod your head. 

“Why was your mother cruel to you? What did she do?” You feel like crying now. 

“Many things… I had terrible night terrors as a child. Scared her half to death. I’d scream and cry and sleep walk. For years. She didn’t know what to make of me. Some sort of demon come from her very womb to possess and haunt her house. She hated me – would lock me in a closet furthest from her bedroom to keep my howling away from her.” 

The blazing heat of anger floods your cheeks, your eyes filled with tears, and he clicks his tongue, smoothes his thumb over the slope of your cheek. “None of that, sweet girl.”

“You were just a little boy – she should have– she should have comforted you. Helped you.”

“It wasn’t in her nature. You cannot fault a thing for not being what it was never made to be. She was a killer of soft things – within herself, within me too, I think. Or she tried, at least. She tried to kill everything soft she came into contact with. But she did love me. In her own way – a wrong way, but she did. That comforts me immensely.”

“That she loved you even if it was the wrong way?”

He nods, “And that I loved her – despite all her flaws.”

“Why?”

“I… I appreciate the idea of being a bad person, and still being able to find someone to love you.”

“You’re a killer.” It is not a question for you already know the answer – you can see it in his eyes, it is his inheritance. You know that either way, it won’t make a difference to you. 

“I am, indeed. But, are you?.” The soft curve of his cunning smile is so incredibly beguiling. The most tempting thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You shake your head, you’re not, you never have been. You think it must be very obvious at first glance, for the patronizing look he gives you as he asks anyways. 

“Sometimes I can be very bad,” he whispers slowly, drags the tip of his finger over your shoulder, down the swell of your breast, stopping just shy of your peaked nipple, circling the point. 

“What do you do?” your voice is breathless, beseeching. 

He smooths his thumb over your bottom lip, pushes between to get inside, presses down on the hard edge of your bottom teeth to inspect the wet gleam of your tongue. “I steal beautiful things for myself–” His voice is like smoke – his confession fortuitous, on the verge of disappearing. His mystique enshrouds the both of you. You hope you disappear alongside him. 

“Is that what you’re doing now? Stealing me?”

“Yes.”

“I think I like being stolen.”

-

He wakes, very late into the night, or very early in the morning, the confounding blue hue of the outside world seeping in through the heavy drapes over the tall windows. Shielding the two of you from the real world.

Your body is entirely draped over his own. You’ve invaded him in your sleep, taken over all the space and air and thought he’s ever possessed. The soft weight of your breasts presses into his chest, your head tucked in the hollow of his clavicle so that he can feel each pass of your damp breath wash over his throat and chin. He expects to feel overwhelmed, uncomfortable, perhaps even disgusted, so much skin, so much heat, your legs intertwined with his – but all he can focus on is the fullness of your tits pressed up against him, the hot wet apex of your cunt against his thigh. You’re wet in your sleep for him – he can feel your dampness seeping through the silk of your extra panties. 

One of your hands is curled over his shoulder and he brings it to his mouth, presses a kiss to the soft, small palm. His hand dwarfs yours, swallows it whole. He sucks each one of the tips of your fingers into his mouth, bites down as gently as he can. Your hips start to shift over him, needy cunt trying to unconsciously rub up against his thigh. 

He’s going to fuck you now. His cock is hard, aching, leaking, balls heavy – has been for ages, but finally, finally his mind has caught up. Thank fuck. 

He passes his palm down the smooth line of your back, pushes his t-shirt you’re wearing up your back to get to your skin. This lovely smooth back he’d spent almost an hour staring at in that gallery. He feels a terrible, unfounded curl of jealousy, once again, that anyone else in the world has ever gazed upon the magnificence that is your skin. He wants it to be only for him, he wants you to be only for him – to own you.

His hand moves down to clutch the full swell of your bottom, pushes under your panties to take a handful of your bare flesh. He bends his knee slightly to put more pressure on your core and starts to roll your hips over him. You let out a soft little moan, sleepy, so sweet. 

“It’s time to wake up, Sparrow. I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Ezra–” you murmur, coming to. Your body seems to take stock of the situation before your mind does, little cunt suddenly grinding down more firmly onto his thigh. You let out a moan that goes straight to his cock. He grips your hips and flips you over, settling between the spread of your thighs, slotting his length into your wet cleft, he starts a slow rock that has his head pressing up and into your clit. 

“Tell me how you want to be fucked.”

Your eyes are glassy, dazed and confused. He says again, “Tell me how you want to be fucked, or I will decide for you.”

And then your soft little voice, grabbing him by the balls and showing him that as sleepy or drowsy or small as you may appear, you’re still aware of the power you hold over him: “I think I’d like you to decide for me, please.”

Fuck– he deepens the pressure of his thrusts so that his tip presses into your opening over your panties. Your jaw is hinged open, panting wet breaths as you moan for him. 

He sits back on his heels then, pulls his t-shirt up over your head and then slides your panties over your hips and down your legs, grips your knees to spread your legs wide for him. 

He was right, your cunt is the same color as your nipples. Beautiful. 

It’s drooling, begging for him, and oh, how that fills him with pleasure – for such a beautiful thing to desire him, as much as he desires it. He ghosts the back of his knuckles over your slit, using his thumbs to spread your lips wide – he bends for a taste, moans deep and long from his chest. 

“Fuck, you’re so sweet. Do you want me to feed your cunt, baby?”

“Ezra, please – yes – I want it so bad.”

“I know, I could see – all night, I could see how hungry you were. I’m going to eat you now.”

Please, please. 

He settles between your thighs. Soft little licks to your swollen clit, then down to thrust his tongue into your hole. He grips the back of one thigh to press it up and back into your chest, uses his other hand to press down low on your pelvis, gives you more pressure as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. He can feel the clench of your pussy around his tongue, the shake in your thighs. Your keening moans move through him, have him grinding his aching cock into the mattress. You’re going to come in his mouth, he can feel it, taste it, your slick running from you, sweet and musky, all for him. 

Your hands clutch at his curls, pulling and tugging hard as you arch your back and start to orgasm. Ezra, Ezra, Ezra. It’s a litany, a benediction. You are a work of art come to life to sing into his ear. 

He gentles his mouth over your quivering sex, laps slowly at your pulsing entrance. He wipes his mouth over the tender slope of your inner thigh and goes back to his knees, licks his palm of your wet as he watches your gaze on him. 

He cradles your small foot in his hold. He likes the thought that he can grasp that which has carried you through your life, in his hand. For some reason, it fills him with immense pleasure, the feel of your soft foot, the thought of you walking through life, walking through the world, towards him, to find him. Always him, only him. 

There is a wound in him, dark, and putrid, overwhelming his existence always. It was only through the cathartic fulfillment of holding a beautiful thing in his hands that he felt reprieved of the terrible thing. He feels that reprieve in this moment, with the delicate weight of your small foot cradled within his palm. 

He brings it to his mouth and digs his thumb harshly into the elegant arch, forcing a moan out of you, deepening the curve of your spine, then drags his teeth along the instep, presses a soft kiss to your first toe. He can see the clench of your little hole at his ministrations, the flush of your skin from the peaks of your breasts to your cheeks. 

Your breath is hitching, breasts quivering with your gasps. He bends to lick into your mouth, thin ankle still held in his grasp, finally, finally taking the taste of your tongue onto his own and you moan, wanton and desperate, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer. 

“I’m going to give you my cock now,” he presses into your skin, open mouthed kisses to your throat, your neck, your breasts. He nips a gentle bite to one swollen little nipple. 

He grasps the base of his cock, passes his hand slowly from root to tip once, twice, and then presses the flushed head to your clit, grinds there for a moment, you jerk, then moves down to your hole, feeds you just the tip. You cant your hips, try and take him deeper, but he holds back, pulls out and moves back up to circle your clit again, and then back down again to press inside. “No, no, no, Ezra, please – I need it so badly – so badly.” He watches a tiny tear, track down your temple and back into your hair, and he gives you the entire thick length of him at that, fucks inside, all the way to the end of you. 

“There? How’s that?” He presses a kiss to your breast, sucks it into his mouth. The taste of you is godly. “Is that better, needy thing?”

“So good – so good,” you sigh. Stretching your arms high above your head, arching your back to let him in deeper. 

“Fuck, yes–” he groans. He sits back on his heels, grips your hips and starts to give it to you hard. The strong swing of his hips causing the soft jiggle of your tits with every thrust. Your eyes are closed, lashes fluttering, soft mouth open and wet. So fucking beautiful. 

“Will you let me fuck your ass too?” Your head is already nodding, all rational thought currently being fucked out of you. “You will, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes – anything you want.”

“Good girl.”

He changes the angle, fucks up into that spongy devastating part of you he plans to own after this is done, and he starts to feel the tight pull of your inner muscles working to suck him deeper. “That’s it, beautiful, just like that. Taking me so wonderfully.” 

“God– I– I’m–” you press your palms to his belly and he brings one of your ankles up to his shoulder, presses a kiss to the bone. 

“God isn’t here right now – just me–” He grits his teeth, gives it to you harder. He can feel his orgasm start to pool, hot and liquid, at the base of his spine, balls drawing up tight. 

“Give me another, Sparrow, one more. Need to feel it around my cock,” spit through clenched teeth. 

“Oh, fuck – that’s so good,” you moan, and then you’re milking him, pulling his come out of him with the tight wet clutch of your muscles. 

“Fucking perfect, yes – just like that.” He lets his head roll back on his neck, hand grasping your ankle as he fills you. 

-

He watches you eat your pain au chocolat. Sitting in the warm morning sun of the observatory. Tiny bites of the flaky sweet bread, dollop of chocolate sitting at the corner of your mouth that he plans to lick off in a second. He is mesmerized. He knows, empirically, he probably looks like a fucking creep, staring you down as he is, but he can also see the subtle preen in your gaze when you glance up at him every so often. You enjoy this part of your play as much as he does, so it seems. The watching. 

“Will you let me take you somewhere today?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Brazil? I’d show you the farm.”

You swallow, the most guileless eyes he’s ever beheld, shining in the light. “Brazil? Really?”

“Of course, treasure. Or anywhere you want. Your happiness is mine to watch over now. I would do anything for you.” As he says it, he can tell, you did not lie when you said you’d like to be stolen. 

[snackugaki]

... my ass actually got like 6+ images deep before realizing i hadn't posted shit-- oops

my tmnt  iteration (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt  iteration part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

tmnt  iteration omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

lny visit 1 | 2

IDW spoilers below, teeechnically Mirage & Next Mutation spoilers too ig?

blah blah blabbering because that's one of the many things you can do on tumblr.com

bloopity bloopin, turtles all being traded on the black market as pets, medicine, or decor to be... "prepared". 'cept Jennika, keeping her IDW origin because it's badass and I like it. eco vigilantes freed them one fateful night, same night someone(s) stole some mutagen for a rival company to TGRI, boom collided in their getaway routes, away floated Venus just like in NM and some others who lalala may or may not be some mutanimals

playing mostly with coloring, Rise introducing markings is such a nice and refreshing change from the all sam green turtle, different bandana color turtles I grew up with. fanon taking that concept and applying it in conjunction with actual turtle colorings also scratches my visdev brain node just so

hm... still fiddling with their plastrons... Venus' and Jennika's are fine though

Leo

funky li'l ringed map turtle

can't see it but, he got them little ridgey-spikies on his shell

christ, I'm finding a way to attach Iris symbolism to him, either through markings or something else

Iris in hanakotoba is... basically all Leo; nobility, bravery, honor, courage, heavy samurai association

5'2"

Raph

McCord's or Amboina box turtle idk idk idk can't choose

stuck on coloring him with a scale mail feeling to match the box turtle photos I found

....I needa draw him beefier, he can stand to be beefier

5'6"

Donnie

literally just googled which turtles exhibit the highest INT, wood turle consistently listed plus some have funky geometrically patterned/shaped shells

tossing on how do the plastron coloring, really liking the dark spots on it

probably keep the lightened belly/inner limb coloring

...probably... lol idk

5'8"

Mikey

my perfect chonky boy, no notes except he (and his brothers) need plastron do-overs

and now i am stuck with the heart-on-his-sleeve marking

canon 2 my iteration it is done

he gets to be the slider this go round, if just 'cuz he's technically the first born (in terms of creating TMNT and its story and world)

let him have the fluttering, finger drumming on everything and everyone because he's bursting with "i love you" energy anyway

5'4"

Venus

"my pretty daughter" iykyk

sea turtle as per last couple iteration posts

cultivator instead of "shinobi"

"i aM ShiNObi"... guh, just, I dunno, the term "cultivator" wasn't really known back in '98 like that, but she had the medicine box, she worked to learn how to throw a fireball at Vam Mi, she was pleased at her progression when she defeated the counterspell from the staff of Bu Ki. that's cultivator shit right there.

she's still a pugilist more than a iron fan user

looks up to April like a big sister, speaks canto and hakka with her

cuz she's still a linguist scholar like in Next Mutation so duh she speak all the languages (to an extant, she has a lot of studying left to go after all)

the greenified hawksbill coloring is growing on me...

still needa futz more with the plum flower motif on her

also figure out her huadian situation or just scrap it idkidkidk

her bandana + 50% green coloring is also growing on me....

5'10"

Jennika

technically also ringed map turtle since it was Leo who gave her the blood transfusion

I like the idea of bringing her Blaschko's lines to the forefront post-mutation but just... it's a lot of stripes. and goddamnit I ain't even gonna go deep into much of anything with the comics I just... can't not world build rip me

6'0"

April

still so tickled at April being closer to the turtles' ages in these new reboots and fascinated how it's played out

...but mine is a clean 44 yo, so. (turtles in late 30s)

Laird originally conceived April as an asian woman in his notes, Eastman drew her as a biracial woman he was dating at the time (April Fisher) and... idk what to tell y'all, people are running around being mixed in this world all the time, Brooklyn got hella Jamaican/Chinese so there you go

can speak canto and hakka

April being a "weirdo" as I've seen mentioned in Rise can stay, I'm picking that, that's a great trait to her character, big fan of Poly Styrene, loved Rachel True in The Craft

where "weirdo" is just she's into alt subculture and being in New York... she got her hands everywhere in those scenes

She and Chu Hsi get to have the most shoujo fuckin' romance because it's cute

and she's still a living drawing which I'm changing around a bit being why she felt like a "weirdo" and leaned towards subcultures and the turtles, she did eventually begin to destabilize but Venus stabilized her by trapping her in a scroll so she could work on a solution. ...where she has a long, happy relationship with Chu Hsi in the painted world scroll because lol time dilation

saw somewhere on the hellsite that the tooth gap is passed around every iteration... so April gets to have it

5'7"

Irma

i'm not ashamed to say I just reupholstered Nadia from Russian Doll

87 Irma went through a lot so she can have some dry wit and humor and be fly as fuck, big hair, big glasses, and a big attitude

still besties with April

likes moths, they're just neat little guys with rabbit ears iykyk

there is a very specifc size of her hair I am battling to keep consistent the problem it never feels big enough

says "fuhgeddaboutit" and has yelled that she is, in fact, "walkin' here,"

... she might also have a little bit of Myrtle from AHS: Coven sprinkled in now that I'm thinking about it to sum her up

she knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody for any random thing you could want to try to find

all the delis and bodegas know her

discusses plot lines from soap operas with Splinter on weekends, they get heated

5'5"

... god all this and I was just gonna have them play spades and play a round of pickup street ball in silly little comics

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 15

In the following weeks, you saw Marshall often. You made a point not to avoid him, even though you were still a bit heartbroken over the fact that he was dating someone else. However, you tried not to let it show, and he probably didn’t notice anyway. You didn’t have too much information on Nicole or that date. To be honest, he didn’t seem too keen on sharing those details, and you weren’t really in the mood to ask either. Of course, if he decided to share, you’d be a good friend, but you didn’t really see the point in putting yourself in a position of being sad. You were only thankful that you hadn’t confessed your feelings to him. That would have been awkward to say the least. You got to spend time with him whenever you hung out at the studio (which was rather frequent) , when he visited Jamal and Talia or when you were invited to anything anyone from the group organized. The only thing that had really changed was that you were never alone and that you made a point of not being too close to him physically, but he didn’t seem to mind. You weren’t even sure he noticed any difference anyway… You thought it would be best not to be all over each other all the time. Once again, there was no point in setting yourself up for heartbreak. If he had asked that woman on a date, it clearly meant he didn’t like you as much as you thought he did, or as you hoped he would. On a Sunday afternoon, you joined everyone at Marshall’s to watch the latest Lions’ game on TV. Initially, you weren’t too keen on going, but Marshall had convinced you to come. For some reason, he was really intent on turning you into a football fan. You weren’t the sporty type and couldn’t really care less, but everyone would be there, so you figured that even though you may not really enjoy the game, you would enjoy the company. 

When you arrived at his place with Talia and Jamal, you were greeted by Hailie, who you recognized from pictures Marshall had shown you. 

Hi Hailie ! Talia said before giving her a quick hug. 

Hey guys come in ! The game is about to start, she said. 

She looked really good and, as you quickly looked at her, you could see she had inherited some of Marshall’s features. They looked a lot alike. 

Hi, I’m Hailie, she introduced herself. I’m the daughter. 

I’m Y/N, you replied politely. I’m Talia and Jamal’s roommate, you explained.  

You entered the house and greeted everyone. Marshall was dressed casually, with black sweatpants and a Lions hoodie that brought out the blue in his eyes. He was painfully attractive and you tried not to stare too much. Everyone was sort of matching his outfit, as they were all wearing some Detroit Lions merch. You were the only one who didn’t. You were actually dressed in leggings, UGG boots and your hoodie from University. 

You went to uni here ? Hailie asked as she saw the logo. I actually have the same hoodie !

Yeah. I’m a PhD student here, actually, you explained. 

What are you studying ? 

Communications. It’s my last year ! 

Are you kidding me ? She asked. One of my best friends is a PhD student in communications too ! His name is Josh. Do you know him ? 

I do ! You said with a smile. We worked together on a paper last year. He is amazing ! 

The guy she talked about was very nice. He started his PhD work in the same year as you did and you had a blast working with him. He was by far one of the smartest persons you had ever met. And it didn’t hurt that he was really attractive as well. You and Hailie spent some time talking in the kitchen. As it turned out, you were the same age, born six months apart and had graduated the same year. You actually knew some of her friends and had attended a few of the same events and venues on campus, though you had never talked or noticed each other. 

I can’t believe we never actually met before today, she said. We have probably crossed paths hundreds of times without knowing. 

I know right ? That is so weird. 

So, how come I have never seen you around here if you hang out with Dad and the whole team ? She asked with curiosity. 

Well, I only started hanging out with Marshall and the studio crew recently, you explained. I moved in with Talia and Jamal a few months ago, after I broke up with my boyfriend. 

It’s crazy, everyone seems to be breaking up, these days, she said. Josh broke up with his girlfriend of six months a couple weeks ago. 

Oh ? I hope he’s ok, you said with a smile. Although I wouldn’t be too worried for him. He probably won’t be single for too long… 

I know, right ? Do you guys get along ? She asked. 

Yes, you said. I mean, we don’t really hang out too often, but we’ve worked together in the past and it was great. He is really nice too. I really like him. I think he might actually be the person I talk to the most, on campus. 

We’re going for drinks to cheer him up tonight. You should come ! She offered. 

Oh, I don’t want to intrude, you said with a giggle. 

You won’t ! You guys know each other and… I’m not going to lie, you are totally his type, she added. 

Good to know, you said as you blushed a bit. 

I could gladly set you guys up on a date, she offered. If you’re single, that is. 

Uh… sure, I guess that could be fun, you said. I think drinks tonight might be a good start. 

The two of you kept on chatting for a while, and you couldn’t help but think that, if you had met earlier, you would have been the best of friends. After all, it wasn’t too surprising. She was a lot like her dad, only more cheerful. He entered the kitchen and smiled at you. 

Glad to see the two of you are getting along, Marshall said with a smile as he grabbed a couple of drinks in the fridge. 

We’re actually going for drinks tonight, Hailie said. 

So now you’re stealing my friends, uh ?  He asked his daughter. 

Well Y/N and I do have friends in common, Dad. And I’m sure she’d rather hang out with people our age instead of old crones like you, she joked. 

You have no idea, you said jokingly.

Very funny, Y/N, he said as he rolled his eyes. You girls better get to the living room, the game is about to start. 

You sat down next to him as you watched the game. He tried to explain the rules of football to you and you tried your best to understand, but it was all a bit blurry to you. You understood what a touchdown was, but there was something about the yards that didn’t make sense to you. You silently cursed the Americans for their misunderstanding of the metric system. Still, you had to admit that the game was entertaining, as well as everyone’s passion for it. They seemed excited about every move the players made, and they were so involved you could have sworn they were part of the team, especially Marshall. He promised to take you to see an actual game, in person, so that you would finally get the hype. You agreed but didn’t really count on it. In a matter of weeks, he probably would take Nicole instead… 

After the game, everyone hung out for a while. You were talking to Talia when he came to get you. You went for a walk in the garden. 

So, you finally met Hailie, he said with a smile. 

Yes, you said happily. Your daughter is really cool. 

I knew you’d get along, he chuckled. Are you sure about going for drinks with her, though? 

Do you have a problem with me hanging out with her ? You asked. 

No, not at all, he said. It’s great you’re getting along. But, you know, you’re sober and she and her friends… they’re not. They’re responsible but still, I want to make sure you’ll be ok. 

Worried much ? You said jokingly. 

Well, yeah, he admitted. I know this shit can be hard. Plus, you know… I’ve been worried about your sobriety when we weren’t talking. 

Really ? You asked surprised. 

Of course. I mean, me talking about you overdosing… that was a shitty move, he said sheepishly. Especially a week after a relapse. 

Well I think I did pretty well, you said with a smile. I don’t want you to worry. I think I’ll be ok. Plus, I’m often around alcohol, you know ? When there are events at university, stuff like that. So, really, I’m good. 

Good then, he said before kissing your cheek. I’m proud of you, Y/N. 

That evening, you joined Hailie and her friends for drinks. Josh was happy to see you and reconnect. The two of you talked a lot about your respective research and the struggles of being PhD students. The conversation was easy going and you really enjoyed the moment. Hailie and her friends were so nice too. For the first time in weeks, you found yourself forgetting about Marshall, even though it was ironic since you were hanging out with his daughter. 

The night came to an end and you said goodbye to everybody, especially thanking Hailie for the invite. Josh walked you out of the restaurant to get a cab. 

We should hang out more. I had a great night. Can I see you again ? He asked. 

Sure. Feel free to come by my office on campus, you said with a smile. 

I meant, like, on a date, he added. 

We can grab coffee on Thursday if you want, you said before kissing him on the cheek and getting in the cab. 

It’s a date, then.

He closed the door for you with a charming smile and you stared at him as the car started. You couldn’t contain your smile, on the way home. 

From M :  Having fun tonight ? 

Reply to M : Yes. Made new friends and drank mocktails :) you ? 

From M : Good. Hanging out in the studio with Dre. Working on a couple of songs. He flew in tonight, he’s going back to LA on wednesday. 

You smiled as you read Marshall’s texts. Even on a weekend night, he was working. You couldn’t help but admire his work ethic and dedication. 

Reply to M : Can’t wait to hear them. 

From M : You can come to the studio on Thursday if you want. I’ll play them for you. 

Reply to M : Can’t. I have a date :) Friday ? 

Josh took you out for coffee and a walk for your first date and it was as if you were in a movie. The conversation, the hand-holding, the flirting and the kissing… it was perfect. You were giddy as you got home and told your friends everything. Talia was nothing but supportive. If anything, she was just as giddy as you. Jamal, on the other hand… he seemed unimpressed. 

What about Marshall ? He asked. 

What about him ? You and Talia asked at the same time. 

You know damn well what I mean, Y/N, he said. There’s something between the two of you. You like him.

Yeah, I do, you said. I mean, he is amazing. But we’re good friends. That’s it.

Bullshit, Jamal said as he rolled his eyes. You aren’t fooling anyone.

I don’t know, Babe, Talia said. I mean, I thought there was something there too but don’t you think Em would have made a move by now ? 

Right, you said. 

Obviously, you hadn’t said anything about what happened between Marshall and yourself. Talia only knew what had happened during the first movie night, but that was it. The only things your friends knew, they got from watching your interactions. 

I’ve known him for a while and he’s never cared for anyone like that, Jamal said as he shrugged. And you, Y/N… I’ve seen you around him. All… cuddly, and flirty and shit. Everybody can see it. 

I think we’re missing the important question here : what do you want, Y/N ? Talia asked. 

Look… maybe I was a little flirty, you admitted. But there’s NOTHING between Marshall and I. He doesn’t like me like that and that’s fine by me. On the other hand, Josh IS interested in me and is taking me on a dinner date on Saturday night. 

It was true. As soon as your first date had ended, Josh had booked the next one. He seemed interested in you and not afraid to show it. It was something you liked, as it left no ambiguity as to whether or not he liked you. And you could definitely use some of that, instead of dwelling on Marshall...

On the next day, you visited Marshall at the studio after you were done with uni work, as planned. He was alone in the room when you arrived. Everyone else had already gone home. 

Am I too late ? You asked after you greeted him. 

It was unusual for you to see him alone in the studio. 

All good. I wanted to stay a bit longer to listen to all of the tracks anyways, Marshall said. We have produced about thirty so far and I’m not sure about some of them. 

You sat on the huge leather couch and listened as he played some of the tracks for you. You closed your eyes as you tried to focus. 

Thoughts ? He asked after he had played about ten tracks. 

I don’t have any, you said. 

Well that’s not good, he mumbled. 

He rolled his eyes and put his head back as he sighed. 

What do you mean ? You asked. 

I mean I played you about a third of what I have and it doesn’t even make you think of… anything ? Like, are they that bad ? 

No, you said with a laugh. What I meant to say is that I know nothing about music. I wouldn’t know how to differentiate a good song from a bad one. That’s kind of your job, you know ? 

Mmmh, he sighed, still not satisfied with the answer. 

There are some tracks I like more than others, you said. But that doesn’t mean anything. What matters is your own opinion. 

Which ones do you like ? He asked. 

Do you really want my input ? You asked in disbelief. 

It can’t hurt, he shrugged. 

You went over the songs together, as you gave him your opinion on the beats or the lyrics. It was kind of haphazard, as you didn’t know the right words to use. He sometimes proceeded to correct you with a chuckle. 

No, that’s not what « reverb » is. 

No ? You asked in disbelief. You know… that kind of … sound and the way it goes ? 

Yeah, no, I see, he said as he laughed lightly. 

It’s crazy. It seems so easy for you, you said. 

As you said… it’s my job, he replied with a smile. Like I probably wouldn’t know shit about your work. 

Maybe, you said with a chuckle. I think you’d find it a bit boring. 

Probably a bit, he admitted. But I know you’re crazy smart. 

Believe me, as I’m writing, it feels like I’m unable to string two sentences together, you replied. 

Maybe Jack could help you with that. 

Who ? 

You know… your date, Marshall said. You guys do the same thing, right ? 

Ah. Josh, you corrected. I take it that you talked to Hailie ? 

Josh, he repeated. Right. Yeah, Hailie might have told me a few things. You guys work in the same field, so maybe he would be able to help you ? 

I don’t know about that. I have worked on a paper with him before but showing him my own work and for him to critique ? It’s kind of… 

Intimate ? 

Yeah. 

He smiled in agreement. 

So. Are you going to tell me how it went ? He finally asked.

I didn’t realize you were interested in my date, you replied with a smile. 

I care about you, Y/N. You know that, Marshall said with a serious voice. 

Well it went great. We went for coffee and a walk. We had a great talk. He held my hand. And he kissed me, once. 

Once ? He asked in surprise. Just once ? 

Yeah. It was a goodbye kiss. 

He nodded in understanding. It was a bit weird for you to talk to him about your date. He looked in your eyes as he waited for you to say more. 

What ? You asked with an awkward laugh. Want me to describe the kissing for you ? 

I’m good, thanks, he said with a grin. 

He’s taking me out tomorrow. 

So soon ? Damn, he must really like you, Marshall commented with a chuckle. 

Well, I am kind of a catch, you said jokingly. 

Of course you are, he said with a smile. 

He looked in your eyes and he got closer to you. It seemed as if he was about to add something when his phone rang. He looked away as he answered it. 

Hey… thanks for calling. yeah, tomorrow is great for me… 7:00 ? … good. Me too. Bye. 

He looked back at you. 

Sorry, he said. 

All good ? You asked. 

Yeah. It was Nicole, he simply said, with a casual tone. 

You stared at him and tried to prevent your emotions from showing. 

I told you about my date. Do you want to tell me about yours ? You asked carefully. 

I’m not sure there’s too much to say, he explained. Hailie set it up. 

You let out an involuntary laugh. 

Your daughter should really start matchmaking business. 

You have no idea, he replied as he rolled his eyes. Ever since her mother and I got divorced for the second time, she has been meddling. I can’t count the number of times she tried to set me up with her friends’ single moms. I usually don’t let her but well… who knows ? 

He laughed at the memory. 

So… want to tell me more Nicole ? You asked. 

Actually, I know her from… way back. Her daughters used to go to the same primary school as mine. I hadn’t seen her in years when we ran into her at the hospital. We ran into each other again a few days later when I was out with the girls and somehow Hailie got her to call me. She’s nice. 

She’s really hot, you said. 

I’m not commenting on that, he said as he rolled his eyes. Is Jack hot ? 

Josh, you corrected. 

Right. Is he ? 

I’m not answering that, you replied with a grin. 

You stared at each other and burst out in laughter. Somehow, it felt good to be able to talk to him about it. 

So… you like this Nicole ? 

She’s nice, he said. 

I mean… she must be kind of cool if your own daughter thinks she’s good enough for you right ? You asked. 

I guess. We’ll see how it goes. How about Ja- Josh, sorry. You like him ? 

I do, you nodded. He is really smart. Kind, too. And… he is really hot, you added with a wink. 

Oh yeah ? 

Yup. 

That’s cool, he said with a smile. 

The both of you chuckled. 

For real though, how do you feel about dating ? He asked. 

What do you mean ? You asked back, puzzled. 

Recovery isn’t an easy time. Are you sure you should be dating ? I mean, I don’t mean to be an ass, or tell you what not to do, he said. But maybe you should focus on yourself a bit ? 

You stared at him and said nothing for a second. It seemed pretty ironic for him to say that when he had asked you out a while ago, shortly after your relapse, no less. 

I like him, you know ? He’s really nice, and, at least, it keeps my mind busy, you said. I think I’m ready to date. 

He nodded and smiled softly. 

You know… this son of a bitch better be nice to you, Marshall said.

And what if he isn’t ? You wondered. 

I’ll make sure he regrets being born, if he ever hurts you. 

He’s a gentleman, you reassured him. And Hailie likes him. 

Right. Must be a nice dude, then. 

You looked at each other, smiling. 

You know, if Nicole ever breaks your heart, I can make sure some hair removal cream ends up in her shampoo, you said with a smirk. 

What if I’m the one who fucks it up ? He wondered. 

I’m sure you won’t, you said. Though if you do end up being an ass… I’ll probably have to dye your beard green in your sleep. Or shave it. 

I’ll remember the warning, he said with a chuckle. And I hope it doesn’t happen… It took forever to grow this thing. 

You laughed as you gently scratched his beard. He pulled you in for a long hug. 

It’s good, he said under his breath. 

Yeah. It really is, you confirmed.

[roguehongsami]

Velvet Crowbar | Pt. 2

—★ pairing/s: guitarist!wooyoung x fem!metalhead

—★ genre/s: smut, au

—★ synopsis: 1983. wooyoung is making your breakup a hellscape. but him getting kicked out of velvet crowbar was the escape you needed all along, as it pushed him to his breaking point.

—★ content: age gap (18!reader x 23!wooyoung, consensual), unprotected sex (condomize), breakup? sex, dacryphilia, creampie, possessive ex, talk of ownership, animal abuse (don't), alcohol consumption (don't), drug overdose (don't).

—★ word count: 4.5k

—★ navigation: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

—★ masterlist here

A month went by since Y/N had last seen Wooyoung. He stopped picking her up from school, never even attempted to check on her. Their relationship slowly sizzled out in the past weeks. Aside from school, nobody had seen Y/N. Not at the junkyard where the local metalheads would go to vandalise abandoned property, not at shows, not even at house parties. Y/N took up space everywhere she went and her absence was felt.

Conversely, Wooyoung had put himself back out there again. He was at every party, every show. Playing at small venues with Velvet Crowbar. He was with a different girl every week. It wasn't all sunshine. He could not bring himself to admit that the separation had taken a toll on his guitar playing and songwriting. It was fairly noticeable. Everyone could see it. Wooyoung drank minimally and dabbled a bit in recreational drugs. Y/N knew but it never bothered her because he had a handle on it. Now he was pitching up to rehearsals either drunk or doped up, screwing up a solo or two.

People were talking.

Mrs. Scott was gentle not to set her off. She was a lot more careful with her words, always made sure to give her a hug when she could. One of her friends informed her of Y/N's hospital visit with Wooyoung in the prenatal wing. Put two and two together, she had her answer. As furious as she was, she could never vocalise it as it would undo all progress made to ameliorate their bond.

"Mrs. Wentworth told me you were at the prenatal ward a month ago."

Silence met her on her side of the door.

"I'm not angry, Y/N. You ever need to talk about it, I'm here." she sighed. "I know what it's like..."

Y/N unlocked the door for her mother and laid back down on the bed. Mrs. Scott spooned her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Before you, I fell pregnant quite young. Your age, actually, and your father was about Wooyoung's age." Mrs. Scott exhaled. "Your father wasn't ready, nor was I. The reason I was against you dating Wooyoung was because, it felt as if I were watching you act out my past."

"The difference between dad and Woo is that my being here proves that dad knew he wanted a future with you." she whispered, almost impossible to hear. "Woo talked a big game but when things got a bit too real, he showed me how undependable he was."

Mrs. Scott squeezed Y/N's arm reassuringly. "I'm sure that's not true, sweetie. He was probably as scared as you were."

"You know, I cried after that. I was hurt. I laid there in bed, he didn't even hold me." she broke into a sob. "He was dead asleep. That pregnancy changed everything."

She turned around and buried her face in her mother’s chest. "Woo felt like forever to me." a disheartening wail filled the room. "Jesus, I hate him so much!"

"No you don't, sweetie." she cooed in her daughter's ear. "I could see it but didn't want to admit. That boy loves you as much as you do him. Give yourself time to work through the pain first. You'll both eventually find your way back to each other."

A few moments passed, faint sobs occupied the atmosphere. As much as Y/N wanted to believe her mother’s words, she couldn't. Her deep-seated abandonment issues were eating away at her core. She blamed herself more than anything. Red flags as bright as day, she chose to not heed the warnings.

This was one thorny bed she laid in.

She hustled out of bed and sat in the alcove by the window, contemplating where she had went wrong. Her eyes followed as the neighbourhood children played in the cul-de-sac. Little giggles making their way into her room. Unaware of a few tears running free on her cheeks.

"He stopped picking me up from school, always coming home late." she scoffed. "Said rehearsals with the band were taking longer than usual, I knew he was lying. He found any and every excuse to not be around me."

Her body turned to face her mother. "You know he blamed me for getting pregnant? He showed me how despicable he can get, but I shouldn't have expected so much from an alcoholic junkie. That's my fault."

The room fell silent. Mrs. Scott taken aback from the change in Y/N's emotions. She felt partially responsible for how everything had unravelled. Too much was going on all at once and she felt as if she was losing a grip on her daughter. Relieved that she was starting to see the light, ultimately the price was not worth it.

Y/N started getting dressed, putting on a much more comfortable look.

"Where are you going?" Mrs. Scott asked.

"The haberdashery downtown. I'm gonna get some material." she said, nonchalant.

Mrs. Scott stood up from the bed, excitement painting across her face. Clapping her hands endlessly, her glee almost contagious to anyone within her vicinity. She threw her hands around Y/N shoulders, pecking her forehead. Y/N's brain quickly registered the situation, and just allowed herself to be cocooned.

"Are you sewing again?" Mrs. Scott queried, jumping up and down in her spot with Y/N enveloped in her arms.

"Please unhand me." Mrs. Scott stood inches away with a gleaming smile on her face when her daughter spoke. "I came up with some designs after Wooyoung signed me up for art classes. I also applied to a bunch of schools, so I need to have some pieces to present when they call me for interviews." she shrugged. "And I need the distraction."

Everything felt like it was falling back in place. A turbulent annum marked by loss, arguments and broken trust. Things were looking up in the Scott household and Mrs. Scott couldn't hide how grateful she was. Y/N felt a sense of relief wash over her. Her mother pulled her by her hand, leading her out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

"Come on, we're getting you a new sewing machine. Top of the line!" Mrs. Scott shouted. "I'll get somebody to clean the atelier so you can have your workspace back."

"Mom, I don't need a new machine and I can work from my roo-"

"You need a stimulating environment to make clothes and your room just won't do." Mrs. Scott waved her hand dismissively.

Her mother swiped her car keys off the kitchen counter and marched to the door, Y/N trailing behind her like a lost child.

Day by day, Y/N was slowly getting back to her old self. She could feel the Wooyoung-sized hole stitching itself back up. Picking up the pieces and putting herself back together, it was going to be a long road. Acquiescing herself with things she used to love doing was the first step. Most after school activities were fairly routine; an hour of art class, three hours at the atelier and the remaining hours spent studying for exams.

To unwind before the final paper, Brady Halliwell hosted a house party for the matrics. Y/N was ready to make her social return.

Unlike every other outfit, this time she kept her look simple. She was without the usual heavy, dark makeup. She sported a white woolen sweater, a black seamless long sleeve top, with black bell-bottoms and checkered Vans slip-ons. She made her way downstairs and as she was about to slip out, Mrs. Scott stopped her.

"You're writing Maths on Monday, where are you headed?" Mrs. Scott asked.

"Brady's party."

Mrs. Scott stared at her worriedly.

"Not the kind of party Wooyoung would go to, mom. Different crowd."

She nodded. "Oh, okay." she stood up from the couch. "I'll drive you."

After a silent ten-minute drive, they arrived at Brady Halliwell's house. You could hear the music from outside. Some people were sitting outside on the porch. Two guys, presumably drunk, were chasing each other with hosepipes on the front lawn. She made her way past the crowd, eyes landing on her. Hushed whispers and murmurs, here and there. Her friends were in the living room, standing in a circle, chatting up.

One of her friends, Murphy, saw her approach. She threw her hands in the air and screamed, "She's back!"

The lot turned around, shock painted across their faces. They pulled her into an embrace and made space for her in the circle.

"I thought this wasn't your scene anymore." Rosanne spoke loudly over the music.

"Yeah, what brought you here?" Caroline asked.

Y/N struggled to find her words and she shamefully looked down at her shoes. Her friends immediately caught on.

"Don't worry, we get it." Murphy pulled Y/N's wrist and put her arm over her shoulders. "I know we don't do it like your rocker friends, but tonight, my sole mission is to get you so shit-faced that you won't even remember that good-for-nothing's name." she smiled ear-to-ear.

[ . . . ]

As Y/N stood there with a solo cup half-full with beer, listening to Brady Halliwell talk about the golden age of film, she was feeling regretful. She felt so out of place; the music wasn't what she was used to, the setting was too "put together" for her liking. As hard as she tried to be invested in the conversation, it just wasn't interesting. Visual media was never Y/N's forte.

Brady stood at about 5'6 with a medium build. Brown hair, brown eyes and olive skin. Nothing but a sweet guy with a big heart. He was the scrum-half of the school’s rugby team, always raking in distinctions on his report, with an interest for old hollywood films.

"Casablanca is a good watch, especially when-"

Brady was cut off when two men appeared from behind Y/N and stood at either side, putting their arms over his shoulders.

San and Seonghwa were the other members of Velvet Crowbar, who've all known each other since their high school days. That's when they had formed the band, along with Hongjoong who played rhythm guitar and was lead singer. San was their bassist and Seonghwa was their drummer.

"How's it going Bradford?" San grinned as he looked down at Brady, chewing his gum.

Seonghwa playfully punched Brady in the stomach and grinned. "Long time no see, buddy." he faced Y/N. "It's been a while, Y/N."

"What are you guys doing here?" Y/N's face wore a bored look as she rolled her eyes.

"Just here to see Bradford." San deigned. "He promised to show us his rugby trophies."

Seonghwa lightly chuckled as his smile materialised. "Yeah. Actually, let's go see them right now."

San and Seonghwa walked away with Brady, with very little protest on his end. Y/N stood in her spot dumbfounded as she watched their backs disappear into the scene. She put the solo cup down on the counter. As she turned around to go find her friends, she bumped into a sturdy figure. Her balance disturbed, she lost her footing and stumbled back. When she looked up, she was met with a cold expressionless face.

Wooyoung grabbed her wrist and led her through the crowd into an empty bedroom. A few eyes followed them. Y/N was in too much shock to speak. She was confused and trying to process everything that was happening. He locked the door and released her from his hold. His eyes were droopy and the stench of alcohol was coming off thick.

"What are you doing here? With San and Hwa no less." she exasperated, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I just needed them to distract Bradford so I could get you alone." he spoke calmly. He pulled out a blunt from the inside of his leather jacket. "Want?"

She smacked the blunt out of his hand. "No, Woo. Who told you I was here?"

"Somebody at our show told me you were here. And by the looks of it, I was right." he towered over her. "You're not having a good time. But what do mall-maggots know about fun? They're all gonna grow up to be a bunch of yuppies with a penthouse and some kids in a few." he cupped her face as his words slurred and leaned in close enough for their lips to graze. "But you don't want that, do you?"

She remained silent, her chest heaving up and down. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. Too frozen to react.

"You wanna have fun first. Make a mess, yeah?" he kissed the corner of her lips. "With a guy like Halliwell? You'd be stuck in Kialecombe forever."

He was right.

The smell of alcohol from his breath invaded her nostrils, driving her into a dizzy spell. His voice carried so much weight. A weakness of hers. He knew how to get into her head. What to say and how to say it. Getting her back would surely straighten him out. His head was telling him he would never find love like he did in Y/N. Flaws and all, she loved him all the same. They wormed their way into each other's hearts. No, it was more than that.

It was a psychic imprint.

"You abandoned me." she whispered as she averted her gaze.

"You needed space." he whispered. "So did I."

Her eyes began welling. "You avoided me and blamed me. The abortion was just a wake-up call. I don't think we were ever gonna work."

Wooyoung would not give in. He felt himself coming undone the longer they were separated. Willing to try anything but admit his mistakes, he was determined to get her back. And he knew exactly what to say to reel her back in.

"Tell me you don't still love me. I'll leave and never come back." he held her gaze with the most serious look in his eyes.

"I... I..." she shamefully hung her head.

You were never a good liar, Y/N.

He planted his lips on hers. She tried to fight against it but gave in. He grabbed the back of her thighs and hoisted her off the floor. Her hands started undressing him, stripping him of his jacket and shirt. He sat on the bed and undressed her top half until her chest was revealed. His lips found her nipples to toy with. After a few minutes, he laid her down.

She stood up and took off her lower garments. As he was undoing his zip, she threw her arms over his shoulders and kissed him feverishly. Once he was completely stripped down, he straddled her and laid back down. He peppered kisses all over her neck and jawline, nipping the skin.

He lined himself up against her entrance. As he slowly pushed himself in, he kissed her to muffle her moaning. His thrusts started picking up speed and impact. She could feel him dancing right by her cervix. He changed angles until he could find her spot. When tears started falling down her temples, he knew he had found it. She dug her nails into his back.

"Can't you see we were made for each other?" he pounded violently in her walls. The squelching of her cunt filled the half-silence in the room, making her body shudder. Her back was arching. He nipped her nipple then smacked her thigh.

Hearing him grunt in her ear was making her release near. Her walls clenched around him and she locked her legs. She nipped at his neck, her hands getting tangled in his locks. Here and there, her moans escaped, but were not loud enough to get the attention of party-goers on the other side of the door.

He slowed down a bit until he completely stopped. He was panting, sweat beads gliding down his forehead with his hair sticking. His fingers raked through his hair, slicking it back. He held her face, squeezing her cheeks with his fingers. "Open up." She obliged, he dropped saliva into her mouth. Like clockwork, she reached for it with her tongue.

"Good girl." he smirked.

He unlocked her legs and put them over his shoulders, the back of her thighs pressed against his chest. He started thrusting again and she couldn't handle it. She was crying from all the pleasure. His lips crashed into hers and explored her mouth. Everything was all so overwhelming for her. That clamping motion was back yet again and he felt it.

"You cry so pretty. Really missed seeing that." he thrusted into her slow and hard. They locked lips momentarily. "You're my girl, nobody else can have you." she moaned in response. He thrusted even harder and looked her in the eyes. "Promise me you won't ever leave me?"

She moaned breathlessly in response.

The knot in her stomach snapped. Her walls clenched more. She bit down on her finger as she came around his cock. Her legs were shaking over his shoulders. As he slowed down, giving her slow deep thrusts, a white ring formed around his cock. His own high followed soon after, painting his seed inside her. You'd think he learned his lesson, guess not. He pulled out of her. A thick white stream was leaking out of her.

They laid in bed for about 30 minutes, his arm slinked over her waist and his face buried in her hair. He was napping. She stood up from the bed, shoving his arm off her waist. He woke up and saw her sitting up. He ran his fingers over her bare back, she jolted. As they both stood up, getting dressed, Wooyoung spoke.

"Y/N?"

Silence.

"Y/N?"

Silence.

"Will you please just talk to-"

"You keep roping me into your nonsense and I keep letting it happen. Murphy was right about you." she deadpanned.

"Murphy hates Seonghwa for cheating on her, so she hates me by association." he sneered. "Can you really trust that her opinion isn't biased?"

She threw on her sweater. He walked over to her side of the room. Her hand landed on the doorknob. He put his whole weight behind his hand, keeping the door closed. She turned to meet his gaze with a deadly glare.

"Make no mistake Y/N, I have friends all over town. Any time you think you've got something good with another guy, I'll be there to ruin it." he spoke, monotonous. "You're my girl."

"You're the easiest piece of meat in Kialecombe, it's actually embarrassing." she shoved him away from the door. "Don't think I don't know about the girls you've been bedding these past few weeks."

He pocketed his hands in his jacket. "Collateral damage." he shrugged nonchalantly. "We were made for each other, and deep down, you know it. Everybody does. Nobody has what we have."

"Had." she snickered as she pulled the door ajar. "And you... I love you, Woo, but I'm smart enough to know you're gonna hold me back."

She walked out of the bedroom, Wooyoung trailing right behind her. A few eyes landed on them. Whispers here and there. She hitched a ride with one of the guys from school. He was kind enough to take her home, dropping her off at her doorstep. As she walked in, the TV was still on. Mrs. Scott was awake. Her eyes were glued to the screen, downing palms of popcorn, watching Grease. When the door closed, her attention was brought to Y/N.

"You're back! How was it?" Mrs. Scott spoke with her head peeking over the couch.

"Pretty great."

It was the last day of Exam Season. Anxiety was thick in the air as students were flipping pages through their notes and textbooks. Others reciting their material out loud. Some scrambling to get an extra pen or pencil. The teachers came out of the assembly hall and ordered them to pack away anything that wasn't stationery. The students stood in two files, girls and boys.

Y/N pat down her skirt, repositioning her floppy bow and blazer. When she turned to her left, there stood Brady in his blazer, decorated with his rugby and academic badges. As he turned to face her, offering a small wave, there was discolouration around his eye. Not much of swelling, just tint. The bruise was fairly noticeable.

"Brady, what happened?" she whispered, eyes wide.

He gave her a kind smile. "Nothing serious. Got headbutted at the jol, that's all."

She rubbed his arm and gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Once they were all seated in the the assembly hall, the teachers walked around handing out the exam question papers and answer sheets. The students talked amongst themselves while they waited for the teachers to finish handing out papers, and read the examination rules.

Y/N leaned over to her right. Murphy and Rosanne inched closer and Caroline, who was seated behind her, leaned in as well.

"What happened to Brady?" Y/N whispered.

"Got roughhoused by San and Seonghwa." Murphy responded.

[ . . . ]

Hongjoong stood in the corner practicing his riffs. San and Seonghwa sat on the couch making jokes, cackling endlessly. The producer, Matt, sat in front of the soundboard, preparing for their recording session. They had been in the studio for about an hour and a half. Behind on their session, a paid one at that, everyone was growing impatient. An opportunity they had been awaiting and it was slipping away.

A ruckus from outside jolted everyone out of their train of thought. They all exchanged confused glances before what sounded like metal dustbins, clashed. Everyone moved from their positions and rushed outside. As Hongjoong pushed the metal door open, he was met with a sight of Wooyoung laying in a pile of rubbish, dustbins spilled over and another one crushed under his weight. In front of him stood Gareth, a session guitarist hired by Matt.

Seonghwa ran to Wooyoung's side, San pushing Gareth back to make distance. Wooyoung could barely hold himself up without losing balance, a bottle of Jack wrapped in a brown bag in his hand. A nasty bruise decorated his jawline.

"What is this? What the fuck is going on?" Hongjoong spoke.

"Get off of me!" Gareth growled as he shoved San. "Ask your friend." he pointed at Wooyoung. "Found him at the bar two blocks down. I was trying to get him here for recording."

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Wooyoung pushed Seonghwa, who was holding him up to stand.

"Dude you were supposed to be here like an hour ago." Matt spoke.

Hongjoong walked over to Wooyoung and grabbed him by his jacket. He shook him violently. "You said you'd be better if we got you alone with Y/N." he grit through his teeth. "San and Hwa even dealt with Brady. What's your problem?"

"You should learn to chill, Hong. Cranked so damn tight all the time." Wooyoung professed, his speech slurred.

"We looked the other way when you started doing coke 'cause your playing was still good." Hongjoong hissed, eyes laser-focused on Wooyoung. "But you've been a violent and miserable mess since Y/N left your sorry ass. Your playing is sloppy and you're holding us back." he pushed him up against the wall behind him, surprising Wooyoung and dropping his Jack Daniels on the concrete path. "You're out."

Hongjoong backed away from Wooyoung, turning his back to him and walking to the studio door. His eyes were wild as he could not believe what he had just heard, his words immediately sobering him up. He straightened himself up and slicked his hair back.

"The fuck do you mean I'm out?" Wooyoung croaked out.

"Pack your shit and go! You're out of the band." Hongjoong snapped. He disappeared into the building.

Wooyoung walked toward the door but San and Seonghwa blocked his path. He fought them relentlessly. "Move out of my way!" he screamed. "This band is nothing without me! You need me! I made you! VC was my idea!"

As Hongjoong returned from inside, he had Wooyoung dufflebag and guitar case in his hands. He threw his belongings on the ground. He stuck his hand in his back pocket and threw a small roll of bills on the dufflebag.

He pointed a finger at Wooyoung and said to San and Seonghwa. "Get him on the next bus back to Kialecombe. I don't wanna see his face ever again."

Hongjoong went back into the studio, Matt and Gareth following him. The door closed with a clank from the inside. San and Seonghwa let go of Wooyoung. He stood there, ears red and chest heaving. His anger raw and unmasked. San picked up Wooyoung's belongings and the put the money in his pocket.

"Sorry, dude." Seonghwa whispered. "We tried to talk him out of it."

"Yeah. You know how Hong gets when he sets his mind to something." San added.

Wooyoung screamed from the top of his lungs, frustration culminating to the point of nearly usurping his conscious mind for control over his body. The alcohol had evaporated out of his system in that second. He trudged down the alleyway, cursing under his breath. Not a single coherent thought in his head. All he could think of was ways to get back at Hongjoong. A stray dog strolled past him. He swung his foot back and railed it into the innocent, unsuspecting animal. A pained whimper filled the atmosphere.

San pushed Wooyoung in the back, causing him to stumble forward. "What the hell is the matter with you?" San yelled at him.

"Fuck off, San!" Wooyoung bit back. "He thinks he's hot shit. I'm gonna make him regret meeting me."

San and Seonghwa exchanged worried glances, Seonghwa shrugging his shoulders. They walked behind him as they accompanied him to the bus station. It wasn't long until he was on a bus back to Kialecombe, jotting down ideas on a piece of paper. He only had one goal mind and he was going to see to its fruition.

"My family's going to the Blue Coast for the December holidays. Ah!" Caroline shrieked. "I'm gonna get tanned and watch the dolphins. Argh, I can't wait!" she shook Rosanne as she spoke.

"I can't either, if it means you don't get to shake me for a month." Rosanne grumbled.

Caroline looked at Rosanne with a blank expression then unhanded her. She took a sip of her milkshake as she rolled her eyes. Y/N chuckled, popping another fry into her mouth. Rosanne smirked to herself, a small giggle escaping her mouth.

"Where are you going for the holidays?" Rosanne put forward to Y/N. "I'm going to Ivory Canyon with Murphy."

Y/N sipped her milkshake and cocked her head up. "Mom and I are flying to Old Western to look at flats for when I go to university next year." she stretched her arms out as a gesture of relaxation. "Then we're going to Torino Cape."

Caroline leaned over the table and put her hands under her head. "Oh my god and Torino is so fabulous this time of the year. There's always animals roaming the streets, it's wonderful."

As Y/N was about speak up, Murphy came running into the diner, the doorbell ringing. Everyone turned to watch Murphy as she ran toward their booth. She slid between the table and seater and planted herself beside Y/N, accidentally crushing her into the wall.

"Wooyoung got kicked out of Velvet Crowbar." Murphy announced with a smile plastered on her face.

Y/N's heart sank at the statement. Everyone's eyes grew wide, their gazes landing on Y/N who was visibly distraught. Caroline smacked Murphy's arm and shot her daggers.

"Tact, Murphy!" Caroline hissed.

"He had it coming after he abandoned Y/N when she... you know..." Murphy's voice trailed off, hinting at the abortion.

"It's okay, Care. Stuff happens." Y/N spoke through a halfhearted, uneasy smile.

It was not okay. As much as she wanted to move on from Wooyoung, a part of her was concerned for his well-being. Especially seeing how bent out of shape he was at Brady's party. Velvet Crowbar meant the world to him and he had his entire future riding on their success. Without them, where did he stand? Y/N could not allow herself to get sucked into Wooyoung's world again.

[ . . . ]

Curse her bleeding heart.

She opened the door after found herself knocking for the fifth time to no avail. It was unlocked. She peeked in, eyes scanning the living room. As her eyes wandered, studying Wooyoung's apartment. It had been months since she last came over. The sink was piled with unwashed dishes. Counter carrying empty pizza boxes.

It was far worse than she had imagined.

Her feet were leading her to the bedroom. Slowly pushing the door open, she was scared of what she might see. Her heart was thumping at an uncomfortable pace. Slow steady breaths. She dropped her backpack and rushed to the bed. Wooyoung was unconscious, body sprawled out. He only wore jeans. A string of blood stretched from his nostril to his upper lip. On the bedside stand was a silver tray covered with a white powder substance, and an empty bottle of Jack.

"Woo?" she shook him lightly.

No response.

"Woo? Woo, wake up!" she gripped his shoulders and shook him even more violently.

He was unresponsive.

She picked up the phone on the bedside stand and spin-dialed an emergency number. It rung for a few seconds, but those seconds felt like forever and a day to her. Finally, a woman's voice answered on the other end.

"Kialecombe General Hospital. How can-"

"I need an ambulance at five-five-three Concord Street, The Sands, floor two, unit ten." Y/N cried, trying her best to remain coherent for the operator.

"Okay, tell me what happened?"

"I- I got here and he was unconscious..." she cried more. "He's not waking up. There's empty bottles of alcohol, and drugs everywhere. Hi-his nose is bleeding. I think he overdosed."

"Do you feel a pulse? Is he breathing?"

She put her ear to his nose. No warm air brushing against her skin. Nothing.

"There's nothing!"

"An ambulance will be there in two minutes, hang tight."

Y/N hung up the phone and kept trying to wake Wooyoung up. He was in too deep and she was losing hope. She hit him in the chest repeatedly, crying and begging for him to wake up. Moving on was the last thing on her mind, she just wanted him to wake up.

"Woo, wake up! Wake up!" she pounded on his chest.

The living room door flew open as two paramedics rushed in. The stretcher was outside. They came in the bedroom. One of them pulled Y/N off Wooyoung, asking her stay aside. They carried him out and laid him on the stretcher and rushed out of the apartment complex. Wooyoung was loaded into the ambulance, the paramedics told her to get in the ambulance.

Once they arrived at the hospital, she was asked to stay in the waiting room. She paced up and down the space, fisting handfuls of her hair, cursing herself. She felt partially responsible because his spiral only occurred after their separation. Tears endlessly running down her face. Teeth biting the inside of her cheek. The other visitors in the waiting room were watching her. It felt as if she was coming undone at the seams of her being.

"Y/N, what happened? Mrs. Wentworth called and said you were here." Mrs. Scott took off her sunglasses, bringing Y/N out of her reverie.

She turned around and fell apart in her arms. She could not string together a sensical sentence. Everytime she opened her mouth, a sob would unleash. Mrs. Scott pressed her head against her chest, rubbing her back to calm her down.

"I went to g-go see W-Woo..." she lifted her head off her chest. "I was going to check on him b-because he got kicked out of the band. And then I found him in his b-bed..." she broke down again. "Mom, he wouldn't wake up." she stood a few inches away from her mom, watching her with glistening eyes. "He got worse after we broke up."

"No, no. This isn't your fault." Mrs. Scott held her shoulders and held her gaze. "He made his choice and you tried your best."

"Mom, you don't understand." she sniffled and wiped her tears away with her shirt's sleeve. "This would've never happened if we never broke up."

"You don't know that." she brought her daughter into a tight hug. "Listen, we need to leave, otherwise we'll miss our flight. Mrs. Wentworth will update us on his condition but Y/N, you can't be here. You've come so far, don't let this drag you back into the dark."

Y/N obliged as she nodded her head. They left the hospital and headed back home. She sat in the car with Mrs. Scott, sobbing into her chest, while the chauffeur loaded their luggage into the car. Soon enough, they were sitting in a plane to Old Western. The last image she saw in her head was of Wooyoung's unconscious body, before drifting off into slumber.

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PART 3, READ HERE.