#fawnworked

[petitsdieu]

cont. 𝒇𝒕. @fawnworked

He doesn't miss a beat. "'Course you can." He may as well let the situation take charge of itself– or let Hara take charge of it, as it increasingly seems she's keen on doing. It's no matter; Oliver is more than amenable to letting her steer the ship, curious as to where it may go. He leans over the edge of the bathtub, resting his head on his crossed arms and looking up at her. "Come warm up."

Her thumb edges the door frame where she's kept her gaze. But when he gives her the greenlight, she does not hesitate to move.

Her slip of a dress stays on when she steps into the bath with him. She slinks into the opposite curve. Legs folded to her chest as she fills the empty space. But although there's room to breath, it does not bother her when limbs touch. The warmth of the water and his company does her well.

She closes her eyes for a spell. A soft, balmy smile on her lips. The thing is, she knew he would say yes but that didn't make it any less sweeter when she was proven right.

[dumbthink]

@fawnworked ... liked.

"sometimes, i don't belong anywhere."

[angelparadox]

@fawnworked cont from x

the belief that his question was innocent was true. Kaz had no way of knowing what Oliver was going through, not unless he asked or had some sort of superpower that granted that sort of ability. that being said, Kaz was just curious. as of recently, they could recall having the same dream every single night. it was bothersome, to say the least. it brought back a lot of memories that Kaz had wished to forget. they hum as Oliver explains being shipwrecked, bemused by the answer, as if not quite believing what he was being told. still, he doesn't probe. instead, they nod his head in understanding. "i heard that dreaming of being on a ship that crashes means you are having trouble with your inner self. i'm sure a child wouldn't know anythin' about that but i'm sure ya can relate now, yeah?" it's mostly a tease, though Kaz isn't wrong. he's studied dreams a little. he's curious about them. looking off to the side, Kaz replies in a soft, voice, "i dream about my ex dying. it happens every once in a while---i go a week or two dreaming about it and then suddenly it just stops and my sleep is undisturbed of nightmares once again. it is not a good recurring dream."

[autofloricide]

Venetia remembers to lock the door next time she bathes. All the doors. She has Felix's estate keys—a brass ring filled with slender brass keys, each worn smooth and golden from a lifetime of his touch—and starts from Oliver's room, down through the dressing room corridor, the bathroom, and finally Felix's bedroom. Her heart drops a little lower into her stomach each time the lock turns; there's almost a finality about it, like sealing a great and ancient tomb. Only then does she climb inside Felix's giant bathtub, her wrist though the keyring like a curious bracelet, and sip from a bottle of Dad's favourite gin until she can't keep her eyes open anymore. It's a little disappointing when she wakes up in the morning, finding a worried maid and a stoic-as-ever Duncan standing over the edge of the tub. He reaches into the water, all the way down to his elbow, soaking his uniform through, and smoothly yanks out the plug. "I was just tired, Dunc," says Venetia quietly, her voice ragged from poor sleep and overindulgence. She manages a tiny, watery smile. "Couldn't fall asleep in my own bed." Duncan silently takes a towel from the maid and dismisses her. "I can bring you to your quarters." He doesn't wait for her reply, simply pulling her out of the tub like a newborn calf and covering her up. It's not embarrassing in the slightest, to be honest; Duncan is practically a father to her. She waves him off as soon as she gets her bearings. "I've still got two legs; I'll manage fine. Thank you very much, Duncan." He stares at her for a long moment, long enough that she can read between the lines in his face and know he is deeply concerned. "Will you be taking breakfast?" "Just tea to start." Which he already knows means and nothing else. With a nod, he disappears. Leaving Venetia alone again, nursing the world's ugliest hangover, heart heavy in her chest. She shuffles down the hall, hair and skin still sopping wet, far too wet for the towel drawn up under her arms to really be of any use anymore. Behind her is a long wet trail on the floorboards that looks like blood under the dim lights. She almost doesn't notice the movement up ahead. And then she wishes she didn't when she takes a second look down the hall and realises it's Oliver fucking Quick, doing God knows what in their bloody house. "Something… is deeply wrong with you," she spits, laughing in disbelief. "You know that, right? They need to fucking put you in a lab and cut your brain open."

[felixferitas]

cont. from here with @fawnworked.

sometimes, felix feels like nobody ever truly sees him. it is a hilarious, ridiculous thought that most would scoff and turn their noses up at if he ever said it aloud. especially coming from a man from his social standing, with his privilege. he doesn't mean to draw more ire than he does already, so this is something that felix mostly keeps to himself, one of the many things that go unsaid between oliver and himself. it's why oliver had felix on the hook of his fishing line so easily, with his brave vulnerable honesty about his upbringing, despite knowing how alienating or uncomfortable it is to talk about such things. it's not the style of the catton's, that's for sure. anything uncomfortable or hard to talk about that affects them directly just isn't dealt with or acknowledged. what do they teach these boarding school psychos? latin, water polo, child abuse, felix'd said, and then put his hand on oliver's knee. it was just light-hearted enough for the truth of the joke to slip by unnoticed. "you think?" he hums, biting the flesh of the inside of his cheek in thought as his gaze flickers, taking note of how vulnerable and small oliver looks. "and then, i suppose, there are things you find out about yourself at the least opportune moment. things you hide away or can't confront in the light of day." felix lets the words hang in the air and doesn't elaborate on what he means, letting them drift away like smoke as he takes another drag of his cigarette. this too, will be swept under the rug neatly.

[fatesdeath]

@fawnworked liked for a starter & gets Adrian !

"you know, you shouldn't do that," he says, approaching Oliver with his arms across his chest. "it's bad juju, if you believe in that sort of thing." Adrian does---he sort of has to all things considered. the dead do speak to him on a regular basis, he has an understanding of these things. he's hoping Ollie will listen to him and stop, though. he doesn't want him to be cursed---it certainly isn't appealing for both of them, especially because he knows Ollie will just have to come back to Adrian and get it fixed. that doesn't sound like a good time to him.

[gcldensnflwr]

"...No."

He takes a moment too long to answer the question. If that fact by itself didn't give away his lie, the unaffected look he puts on surely would; as much as he fancies himself an enigma, anyone who has seen him stumble once will likely recognize that intentionally vacant expression if it happens again in their company. Oliver's not much good at faking emotion, despite his best attempts; he's only really practiced at burying real ones, and even then he has a breaking point. Eventually, he's shockingly easy to read. He figures a boy such as Luca probably has him properly figured out already. In an attempt to recover from what he perceives as a minor embarrassment—never one to leave himself looking the fool, if he can help it—he turns it around on Luca. "Why? Should I have?" He tries to spin it as surprise, like the thought never even crossed his mind. Far too familiar with the feeling of rejection, and desperate to avoid it. // @fawnworked

luca could deny it all he liked, proclaiming innocence or naivety, yet that couldn't erase the undeniable impact he had on people. he appeared to relish it, as if it were an innate facet of his identity effortlessly woven into the fabric of his being. it wasn't a result of constant effort or striving to craft one's persona; instead, it was a natural aura seamlessly intertwined with a warm smile and a handsome visage. he reveled in the art of making people feel something, bringing the wonders of the universe to their feet.

"you should. do you think i invite just anybody here?" with the bottle of champagne gripped by its neck, the confident man poured more of the effervescent liquid into the flute olivier cradled. "oh, oliver, i worry about the impression you might have of me," his voice as smooth as the finest silk, offering a comfort that seemed to carry the weight of fascination, enough to make one desire its embrace.

[fawnworked]

FAWNWORKED : OLIVER QUICK from the feature film SALTBURN, as loved by rudy (22, cst, they). indie & selective. relaxed activity. est dec 2023. minors & personals DNI.

carrd. prompts. wanted plots. hcs. insp. tunes. mumu.

a study in : half-truths, the perpetual outsider, high prey drives, batting your eyelashes, conflating love with hunger, dog motifs, narrative hauntings, surviving yourself, & walking towards the end of the world.

[petitsdieu]

@fawnworked

brenton thwaites and alycia debnam-carey in a violent separation (2019)

[petitsdieu]

𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑨 📸 𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑬𝑬 3-5 𝑷𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑴𝒀 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑺/𝑯𝑨𝑺 𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑶𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬(𝑺) / 𝒇𝒕. @fawnworked

[dumbthink]

@fawnworked

“oh, i didn’t tell you about my artist phase?” they will steal his notebook and begin to doodle something. even if it is just a small drawing, their eyebrows are furrowed, obviously putting a lot of thought into this. when they’re finished, they pass it back. it is an absolutely terrible, middle schooler anime style drawing of him. beautiful.

[angelparadox]

@fawnworked liked for a valentines starter

"hey," he said as he approaches Oliver with a box of chocolates. "i got these for you. i thought you might, i'dunno... like them or something." they're clearly embarrassed as he's holding the box out, cheeks a nice rosy color. he's never done anything like this before, doesn't know what came over them, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. they hope it's not too forward.

[petitsdieu]

@fawnworked

when I think of her now, I think of that time when a  d r e a m  came true.               and my only talent was not to close my  e y e s .

[deceivesthem]

❛ Death isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of a chain reaction that will catch you if you’re not careful. ❜

"if death wasn't the end for some people, we'd have a bigger problems on our hands." and no, he's not talking about zombies. although, he supposes he can sort of see what he's talking about---for example, Oliver killed his stepfather and such, that was the beginning of a new life for him, a life that was meant for peace, but still remains haunted. it was an immediate reaction, too. the moment Jeffrey was dead, Oliver had backed himself up into a corner and sobbed in fear, as if the man himself would rise from the dead and torment him once again. it never happened, but the fear remained in tact. he shakes his head and exhales. "i think the dead should just stay dead. don't let it be the beginning of anything; the dead are just that... dead."

[ @fawnworked ]

[felixferitas]

@fawnworked: ❛ You should know this isn’t easy for me. ❜

felix can't help but throw his head back and scoff, a disbelieving smile on his face. that's to put it mildly. but he's still not sure what oliver is saying, he always takes a generous amount of coaxing. "what, talking about yourself? i might have picked up on that, yeah. it's like pulling teeth for you, isn't it?" gods, he'd picked up on that the very first night they went to the pub. felix can sympathize -- almost. except, felix never really talked about himself. others did that for him, and they loved to have a chin wag about it, whether the topic be about his family, his title, saltburn, or the girl he'd fucked a fortnight ago. oxford was the only place he felt he was really allowed to be himself, although there was always someone keeping an eye on him and relaying details of his impropriety back to his parents. he tried to live like a normal college student whilst at oxford and took the licking whenever he went home. "be honest, ollie. how many times a day are you having an existential crisis? you're quite harsh on yourself," he observes, a small frown on his lips.

[petitsdieu]

"In a good way, yeah. I can't imagine meeting someone, feeling like we've met before, in a bad way... though I guess, I can now." Although she could anticipate him accepting more than rejecting, she was pleasantly surprised that there seemed to be no hesitation. He just goes along with lying on the ground with her.

"Okay, this is going to sound absolutely filthy. And don't get me wrong, I love being on my back for that reason, too. But this is my favorite position. Just to... like, be? Do you know what I mean?"

She remembers being a kid, running away to the beach in the middle of the night to escape the monsters and horrors of her life. Replace the scary footsteps of adults for the soothing calls of the ocean. And she'd lay on her back and feel like she was in a snow globe. And there was something about it that made her feel small but not in the same way the people in her life had. In a calm, solace kind of way. Like she could disappear, float up the stars, and be a celestial, glimmering light.

"I like the way the world looks from down here. Visual perspective and all. It's just different. And god, it feels really good. Not to feel gravity, as much."

"Naturally... However many tens of thousands of species of plants there are, there's bound to be some you haven't run across unless you're mother nature herself." She's selling herself short, to his thinking. He wouldn't know what to do with any sort of plant... except for orchids now, thanks to Hara.

He really doesn't get that often—not once, as far as he can recall—and he absolutely loves that she assumes he must. As if the ease of their evening together so far is the rule and not the miraculous exception. As if he wasn't hiding from a confrontation, dejected and stewing, when he'd spotted her across the lawn.

He banishes the thought from his mind before it can take root, determined not to let anything spoil their good time. He deserves a pleasant party, and Hara deserves him at his best.

"I feel the same way, honestly. It's strange– in a good way." When she invites him to lay in the grass he obliges, sighing softly as he looks up at the moon and stars. He's not sure when the last time was that he stopped to just take them in. Surely he must be glowing, filled to the brim with simple joy like this.