#forbidden sex

[caesars66]

Julie ok'd her brother sharing proof of their nasty morning fun ..

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

thinking about Lucanis again (always). and how so much of his narrative boils down to the theme of "control". and of course also about how this applies to the Rook x Lucanis relationship.

like the first scenes with him in the game are, in theory, about freeing him from the Ossuary (although he seems to have an escape attempt already in progress at the time, they certainly weren't just letting him keep those knives on him for enrichment purposes, Rook just provided an opening/distraction he could take advantage of and crucially Rook has A Way Out of the whole place not just a cell). but ACTUALLY the purpose it to put him right into a new contract for Us, one set up by his own grandmother and first talon no less, and the person he has the MOST trouble saying no to. He's escaped torture and the Venatori for sure but he still isn't free, which I think is part of what leads to Spite's confusion/the Inner Demons plotline. He agrees to the contract but you can tell it's in many parts out of a sense of duty/mourning vs something he actively wants to do for himself. And then the FIRST real heartfelt conversation you have with him, where he tells you "even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me." But he's chaffaing at that! He thinks "to live truly is to live fully" and so directly tells you he doesn't think he's lived a life true to himself. He's been constantly smothered by the weight of expectations around him, even though he longs for more.

And then once you get him to the Lighthouse you see how this Big lack of control in his life comes out as all these smaller frustrations. He's terrified of sleeping and downing 11 cups of coffee per hour because sleeping means he will lose control to Spite, even though Spite is shown to flee rather than fight when he feels threatened, and once calmed down, is more drawn to just benign curiosity/mischief than anything actively malicious. Like if Lucanis loses control and sleeps for a few hours he is not going to wake up surrounded by bloodshed, he's going to wake up to a belly full of candle wax because he wouldn't like Spite taste one while they were awake. Which is the other half of this--he constantly denying Spite's impulses for reasons that in some ways make sense (HE doesn't want to eat candles), but not in a way that's actually satisfying to either of them (why not just take a bite, chew for a bit, and spit it out so Spite knows they kind of suck actually?). But he CAN say no to Spite and so he does. Over and over. Spite's one of the few people he can deny things without feeling bad about it, because it's HIS body he doesn't like that has to share now (<- this is what he thinks about it at first anyway, but he's wrong, it's both of theirs and it's useless to try to hold those kind of boundaries forever. but the "no its mine" spiteful instinct is very beautifully ironic and reflective of them both and their early relationship).

And personally I think this is where his fear of his own desires and intimacy is coming from, at the root. I don't think he's afraid of the concept of being in a romance or having feelings (even if they're unusual and rare for him, this is by no means incompatible with him being demi) but I DO think he is afraid of the kind of power it gives people over you. Getting something you want means there's something else that can be taken away. Admitting your desire means the other person has the opportunity to deny that. The more you have, the more you have to lose, and he has lost again and again and again in his life--his parents, his childhood to the crows, his independence, even his future--he doesn't aspire to be first Talon but he knows the rumors. He knows his grandmother wanted it for him, not Illario. His life path has been laid out for him by others and up to this point he has simply been going along with it anyway, even though it bothers him. He COULD argue and fight Caterina and push for Illario who actually wants the job to be First Talon instead, but from The Wigmaker Job we know he doesn't. He just ignores it and pretends maybe it won't happen, without him having to do any of the work. Which is why in the end Illario is the one who has to make a move about it (and even warns Lucanis of this!!!!). Lucanis KNOWS all this makes him a target but is neither taking charge or getting off of the train tracks, just closes his eyes.

And I think THIS context is what makes the almost kiss scene in the pantry make more sense to me. Rather than being afraid of having feelings (and then NEVER addressing this in game with a Rook who pursues him anyway) or not knowing how to finish what he's started via crow seduction training, it's more like this is a pivotal moment where he can actively choose to step off the planned path of be given a job -> kill the gods -> enact revenge -> go home. even if he doesn't at that point realize that a relationship with Rook could be something that lasts long-term, the very act of doing something just for himself is what's foreign and scary and hard. It's that first step off the tracks, and even if he were to keep walking in the same direction, it means he's making a choice about it. he's accepting that one way or another it IS in his power to go along with everyone else's plans or not. Hence the hesitation, and drawing back, and needing to clear his head.

And then the rest of Rook's role in his narrative IS about giving him more and more control for himself. Inner Demons, dealing with Illario, his questlines move less towards revenge and more towards just... not being locked into one fate. Which of course Caterina comes back and immediately tries to overturn by declaring him First Talon after all, even though she and him and everyone else knows she's not ACTUALLY ready to give up her rule/decision making power yet. Which in a way is maddening because cmon I did all this work here so this sad man could have some agency in his own life just to watch him get sucked right back in (which, at least we get many directions to headcanon from here), but there's no denying that THIS version of Lucanis at least is actually going in with his eyes open now. THIS Lucanis has had a taste of life outside the Crows, and seen the politics and power dynamics in other places/organizations, and finally has emotional ties to the big picture state of the world now, both in relationship and friendship paths with Rook. He's not just hyper focused on each contract as it's given to him now, he's looking at the whole thing.

Anyway of course the beautiful culmination of all this within the romance is the lighthouse scene with Rook, where he finally is willing to let himself be vulnerable (emotionally and physically), and fall asleep without fear of what Spite's going to do in the meanwhile. He also (depending on dialogue choice) finally talks about his feelings directly with you for the first time instead of in roundabout ways (the dessert being "not enough" is it really the dessert you mean, Lucanis. is it.). Even though he is STILL reluctant to verbally admit his feelings or let Rook share their own at this point, I think that's more a narrative choice about saving those last emotional dialogue options for the big final battle. but it is another point where he does have to stop just following along and ACTIVELY choose that yes, yes sometimes loving is worth the risk of losing it. Even if someone takes it away from you later, even if you don't survive it, sometimes the love alone makes it worth it.

I have like another 5000 words I could add into about how Spite ties into all this, about how having the demon in him is something he both fears AND how it forces him to acknowledge that actually yes he DOES share the same base feelings/instincts Spite does in terms of not wanting to be told what to do. And how this in a way is part of what gives him permission to act on it since he can no longer just shove it down out of sight. but this post is long enough already so i'm just going to take the rest of this and gnaw on it all day like a chew toy I guess.

anyway. AHG. it is kind of frustrating that the culmination of his arc seems to be "and then he got the job he never wanted anyway" but I do think at least all this prepares him for it in a way Caterina actively failed to actually do on her own. He NEEDED that step away from his straightforward path. Whether he stays first talon or not, and with or without rook as a romantic partner, he's finally been able to explore ideas outside the expectations of others.

[tomssexdoll]

Dangerous love

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and y/ns gangs are fighting, he shoots at her, aiming for it to go past her, scaring her but his aim is off, instead shooting her in the stomach..

A/N: ily all

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), breast and nipple play, eating out, mentions of guns, blood, being shot, violence

Tom and I were apart of seperate gangs, ones that happened to be enemies. We had this feud for years, after one their men betrayed our old gang leader, stealing our money and guns.

From then on it has been non stop fighting, shooting at each other's homes, stealing each other's cars, you name it. When people hosted get togethers their gang was always blacklisted if we were to attend, fearing the worst would happen.

There was no one I hated more than Tom Kaulitz, one of the men in that gang. We had been enemies for years, despite what happened between our gangs it was just because we had this deep hatred for one another.

Anytime I saw him I resisted the urge to just bash his head into a brick wall. He always got on my nerves, giving me dirty looks or yelling out insulting things with his buddies. One day, we were scheduled for a fight. I knew we were going to win, we always did. I just put some jeans and a tight top on, finishing it off with a black leather jacket my father gifted me.

As we arrived I scanned the area, we decided to meet at an abandoned warehouse, a suitable place for a fight, if anyone got killed they would easily be left there to rot. We parked our cars, getting all our guns and knives out, we always arrived early to a fight, wanting to get the advantage, something they never did. I decided on a handgun, something small and easy for me to carry.

As he entered the abandoned warehouse, Tom stood tall, his cold eyes locking onto mine. The tension between you two was palpable, the air thick with unspoken animosity. He was flanked by his gang members, all of them armed and ready for a brutal confrontation.

I smirked and turned to my gang members, nodding, signalling for them to start. As soon as they got my confirmation they started to shoot, bullets errupting around the warehouse.

Tom was quick to react, pulling out his own weapon and returning fire. Despite the chaos surrounding him, his cold gaze remained locked onto me. He was taking this personally, wanting nothing more than to put a bullet between my eyes.

As everyone else shot at each other, it seemed we were only focusing on each other, trying to get the first shot.

Tom smirked, taking cover as he reloaded his weapon. I could see the determination in his eyes, locked onto me as if I was the only one worth fighting. He moved quickly and suddenly, firing off a series of shots directly at me, only aiming to scare me, not hurt me.

As I stood up to shoot at him, one of the bullets hit me, the adrenaline filled chaos had made his aim off, piercing me in my stomach, making me wince and fall down to the floor.

Horror filled his face as he realised what he'd done. He rushed to my side, kneeling beside me as the chaos of the battle rages on around us. His hand, still gripping the gun, trembling slightly as he takes in the crimson stain spreading across my shirt. "Fuck," he muttered, his usually icy demeanor cracking for a moment.

"STOP THE FIGHT!" he screamed, panic in his voice as everyone turned to us, seeing me on the ground, wounded. "What the fuck?" "What is he doing?" some people murmured amongst themselves.

Ignoring the stares and whispers, he carefully lifted me up, cradling me in his arms as if I was the most precious thing in the world. He shouted orders to his men, snapping out of his momentary lapse as he switched into boss mode.

Everyone was surprised, seeing him so worried about me, despite us being enemies for years. As Tom ran to his car, he placed me down on the passenger seat, quickly removing his belt, fashioning it as a makeshift tourniquet above the wound to slow the bleeding, his muscles rippling with the effort.

"What the fuck are you all doing standing there? HELP ME!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the building. His men springing into action, running to my side and grabbing some aid tools they had packed incase they'd gotten hit.

They grabbed some gauze, wrapping it around my stomach urgently, some even taking their shirts off and wrapping it around my stomach too, trying to stop the bleeding as Tom stood there, tears in his eyes, watching the life slowly slip away in my face.

Tom took my hand in his, squeezing and reassuring, his grip never faltered as he climbed into the back seat beside me and gave his men the signal to drive. The car sped off into the night, leaving chaos in its wake. "Hold on, just stay with me," he choked out a sob, running his fingers through my hair.

As we arrived to their gangs "medical centre", Tom carried me out, rushing inside and panicking, asking the doctor to help me.

The doctor's calm, professional demeanor was a stark contrast to Tom's frantic energy as he laid me down on the operating table. Tom's hands shook as he held mine, his knuckles white with tension. "Do whatever it takes to save her, damn it!"

"Just calm down Tom, panicking won't save her," the doctor sighed, taking all the material off my stomach and sliding my shirt up, inspecting the wound.

"Since you've jam-packed her wound and stopped the bleeding she'll be fine, let's just get this bullet out and conceal the wound," the doctor grumbled, grabbing some tools and slowly picking out the bullet.

Tom's gaze never left my face, his expression filled with relief as he saw the doctor successfully removed the bullet. "Thank you," he said, gratitude etched in every line of his face. He leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss to my forehead, "you're going to be okay."

The doctor quickly stitched the wound, making sure it wouldn't reopen, applying a thick bandage, ensuring my safety. I was still weak and pale, the doctor kneeled down "what's your blood type sweetheart?" he gently asked, "O positive" I mumbled, my eyes flickering to his.

He nodded, fetching a pack of blood, attaching me to the IV. As the blood began to reinvigorate me, Tom's tensed muscles relaxed fractionally. He watched the color return to my cheeks, my breathing evening out, and a glimmer of hope sparked in his eyes.

The gang members who came with us snickered to themselves, laughing and mumbling about us. "What's so fucking funny, hm?" Tom turned to them, his gaze piercing.

His jaw clenched at their mocking words, his fingers digging into my hand hard enough to bruise. He rose to his feet, towering over the snickering bastards in front of him, his gaze boring into them with an unsettling intensity, "you don't know what you're talking about."

They smirked "it's weird how you "hated" her, yet you're here saving her? I thought you were supposed to be enemies" they laughed obnoxiously, even the doctor started to get annoyed.

"Oh we don't?" they said, "since when did enemies save each other, cry over each other and demanded a gang fight to stop, how stupid are you Tom?" they gritted their teeth, their words harsh and cold.

Tom's eyes flashed with fury, his nostrils flaring as he took a menacing step forward. The air seemed to crackle with tension as he glared at them, his voice a deadly whisper, "you talk about her like that again, i'll break your fucking neck, you don't know who you're messing with." (ok alpha tom)

They held their hands up in surrender, rolling their eyes and scoffing, walking back to the car. I slowly sat up, my head spinning slightly, "easy there, don't hurt yourself more than you already are.." he rushed to my side, holding my hand again.

"Why did you even save me Tom? It doesn't make any sense, we've been enemies for years," I turned to look at him, my droopy eyes meeting his. He gave a small shrug, averting his gaze for a moment before looking back at me, "I don't know. Maybe it's because deep down, I never really wanted you as an enemy. But I hate seeing you hurt, even more when it's by my own hands.." he sighed, "I guess we kind of had to be enemies, considering our situation" I gently rubbed my thumb over his hand.

His expression softened, chuckling softly, "maybe you're right, but things don't have to stay that way," he turned over my hand, pressing a gentle kiss against the back of it.

"What are you implying Tom?" I raised an eyebrow, a smirk played at the corners of his lips, "i'm impying that perhaps we could be....friends? Or more than that, if you're willing," he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck.

"That's impossible, how are we even going to convince our gangs? You're thinking too fast Tom!" I sighed heavily, the idea comforting but reality quickly setting in. He lifted his hand to my cheek, gently caressing it, his eyes longing into me, "I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes, I'm tired of pretending I don't want you" he said, "and if we can come to an agreement, our gangs will follow."

"But, how will my father even agree? He despises you Tom, and your father too..." I groaned, resting my face into the crook of his neck. His jaw clenched at the thought of my father, the endless battles he had with him, a flicker of anger crossing his features before it was replaced with determination.

"I'll deal with my father, and yours. We'll find a way to make it work, we have to," he squeezed my hand reassuringly. I nodded and lifted my head to look at him, gently placing a soft kiss to his lips, "you don't know how long I've wanted you too.." I whispered against his lips, looking up at him.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise at the sudden kiss before a smirk tugged at his lips, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss. His tongue explored my mouth, marking me as his.

I smirked, swiftly pulling away, "we need to stop before they see," I motioned to the gang memebers in the car, "they're not parked far away y'know, we'll get killed for even trying something like this," I giggled. His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and irritation at the reminder, his hands flying to my waist and pulling me onto his lap.

"I don't give a fuck what they see," he growled, his voice low and husky. "Watch the IV!" I bursted out laughing, rolling it around to where I was.

He chuckled, his strong arms encircled around my waist, pulling me flush against him as he maneuvered the IV stand into a more safe place, "you're a menace, you know that?"

I giggled, "a menace? That's new, where's the more harsher words like bitch, slut, or even whore, hm?" I tilted his chin to look up at me. "Oh, you want me to call you those words huh?" he grinned, I leaned in, whispering in his ear, "maybe in bed..."

His grip on me tightened, his expression darkening, "don't push your luck, angel. I might just decide to show you what those words really mean.." he grunted, pulling me into yet another rough kiss, his lips moving passionately against mine.

His kiss was rough and demanding, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as he explore every inch of it. His hands moved up to tangle in my hair, holding me in place as he deepened the kiss.

As things were getting heated, the gang memebers who were parked outside started to beep frantically, I jumped slightly and grunted, annoyed at them cockblocking us. Tom broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine as he exhaled deeply, visibly annoyed.

He shot a quick glare towards the car, removing his hand from my hair and picking me up, placing me down on the door. "Fuck sakes.." he muttered under his breath, before turning his attention back to me, "we'll continue this later princess," he took my hand, leading me back to the car.

As we got into the backseat of the car, the gang memebers snickered and threw lewd comments about me and Tom's earlier display of affection, "keep your fucking mouths shut, both of you" he growled, his jaw clenching at each word they spat out of their bitter mouths.

As we were approaching my house, I looked out of the windows and noticed the sky had turned shades of pink and red, signalling the sun setting, I was surprised I was out for so long, me and Tom's special moment in the medical centre only feeling like a few minutes.

I smiled, gently cupping Tom's cheek and placing a soft kiss to his lips, "call me, ok?" I grabbed his phone from his pocket, typing in my number and saving it as a contact before waving and getting out, walking towards my house.

As soon as I opened the door I was met with 12 raging gang memebers and my enraged dad, all worried about my whereabouts. "Who the fuck was that dropping you off?" one said, "why were you in a car with a random guy? Don't you know how dangerous that is! What have we taught you over and over again!" another yelled.

All of their yelling and arguing fell silent with my fathers shake of a head. "Why were you with Tom Kaulitz, I thought he would've just dropped you off and left you for fuck sakes," he grumbled.

"Well, he stayed the whole time and held my hand, where were you guys? Hm?" I snapped, angry at all their rejections of Tom, only if they could see the real him.

"Well, you know that if we stepped foot in there we'd probably get swarmed and killed, it is their base afterall.." my father scratched the back of his neck, finding excuses for his absence. "Oh really? Bullshit.." I rolled my eyes, storming into my room and slamming the door shut, locking it behind me.

I just blocked out their yelling and sat on my bed, sighing. As soon as I started to think about Tom, I heard some tapping at my window, like something was hitting it.

I curiously strutted over to the window, my eyes widening as I saw Tom there, standing and waving, signalling that he was going to sneak in. He climbed up the pipes with ease, I slowly lifted the window and let him climb in, his gaze softened as he saw me, walking towards me slowly and engulfing me in a soft hug, resting his head on the top of my chin.

"I couldn't wait to see you, I needed to be by your side again," he mumbled in my hair, "oh wow, you can't last even 5 minutes without me? I'm flattered," I giggled, looking up and him and leaning in, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"We have to be quiet, if my dad finds out he'll kill you and me," I moved my hands off his torso, interlocking my fingers with his and walking towards my bed. I sat him down and climbed on his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist and smashing my lips into his again.

His hands gripped my hips tightly as he kissed me back fiercly, his tongue plunging into my mouth with a possessive hunger. We had been starved from each other for so long that we couldn't help ourselves, touching each others bodies, feeling each others bumps and curves.

"God, I need you so fucking bad..." he groaned, gently laying me down on the bed, trailing kisses from my face, to my neck, to my chest, down my stomach and even further, his hand roaming over my curves as he worshipped every inch of me. He paused at the waistband of my jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them off.

He smirked at my lacey thong, his fingers teasingly tracing the delicate fabric before hooking them with deliberate slowness and pulling them down my legs.

Toms eyes flicked upward to meet mine, the gaze between us both heavy with desire. He lowered his head pressing a tender kiss to my inner thigh, slowly going up to my folds.

He stuck his tongue out, gently parting them and tasting me for the first time. "You taste amazing.." he groaned, wrapping his arms around my legs and pulling me closer, slowly and sensually dipping his tongue into my wetness, then going up and softly sucking my pulsating clit.

"Mmmh..." I moaned softly, moving my hands down and tugging at his braids. He smirked against my pussy, loving the ffect he was having on me. His tongue flicked and circled, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.

He teased and sucked on my clit, almost torturously slow before plunging his tongue deep inside of me, again and again. "Oh!" I gasped, the sound a little too loud, putting us at risk.

"Shhh baby...be quiet for me, you don't want to make your dad suspicious.." he chuckled softly, pulling away for a second, grabbing my remote to my tv and turning it on, putting it on a random channel and turning the volume up.

"There, now we can be a bit louder.." he murmered, diving his head back in between my thighs, his fingers gripping tighter on my thighs. As much as he loved hearing me moan he really didn't want to be killed by the hands of my father.

His tongue moved more quickly, in and out of my wetness as he expertly brought me closer to my peak. I whined softly, bucking my hips into him, throwing my head into the pillows, the pleasure getting almost too much for me to handle.

He growled lowly, enjoying the sight of me trying to maintain control. He sucked harder on my clit, reaching up and slowly sliding 2 fingers inside of me, his fingers curling at my g spot making my eyes roll back and grip the sheets tightly.

The sounds of the voices on the TV blurred out, my only sole focus being Toms low grunts and moans as he devoured my pussy. His eyes darkened with lust as he felt my climax approach, my pussy wrapping around his fingers, instantly redoubling his efforts, sucking harder on my clit while pumping his fingers faster inside me, coaxing for me to let go.

"That's it princess..let go.." he egged on, his voice gentle and comforting, nothing like how he usually was. His usual demeanour tough and intimidating.

With one last flick of my aching clit my orgasm crashed down, my cum spilling on his wet tongue, he smirked and lapped his tongue at my hole, collecting every bit of juice he could.

"Fuckkk.." he chuckled, slowly crawling up, his large frame hovering over me. His hands landed on my shirt, slowly dragging it up and throwing it somewhere across my room. His hands wrapped around my back, unclipping my bra and letting it fall off, revealing my perky tits, my nipples hardened.

He gasped, lowering his head, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking gently before giving it a little bite, "ah!" I yelped, "tom!" I giggled, smacking his arm playfully.

"Whattt..I had to.." he smirked, latching onto my nipple again, his hand coming up to my other breast and kneading it possessively, as if he was trying to claim my tits as his.

I grew impatient, whining loudly, "I need you..now.." he chuckled against my breast, slowly removing his mouth from my nipple and growling softly, "you want me inside you, hmm?" I nodded eagerly, desperate for him.

He nodded, his eyes flashing with hunger as he looked down at me, his erection straining against his pants. He quickly removed his clothes, revealing his muscular body. Tom settled between my thighs, rubbing the head of his cock at my entrance, teasing me, "mmh..put it in.." I whimpered, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Tom finally pushed inside of me, burying himself to the hilt, his hands gripping my hips as he held himself still. He looked down at me, his gaze burning into mine, "I hope you're ready for me.." he grunted, beginning to slowly move.

He started to thrust in a slow and steady rhythm, the sensation making both of us moan in pleasure, he leaned down, capturing my lips in a soft, passionate kiss. We moaned against each others lips, his cock hitting a spot inside of me that made my legs tremble.

As he started to pick up his speed, he grabbed my legs, throwing them over his shoulder and reeling himself even deeper into my cunt. With my legs draped over his shoulder, he started to piston into me with renewed vigor, each thrust driving him deeper.

He tried so hard to not let the headboard hit the wall, his abs flexing and contracting as he powered through, his eyes locked onto mine, drinking in every moan, every twitch of pleasure on my face.

As my moans got louder Tom placed a hand over my mouth, muffling my moans as he continued to roughly thrust into me, his hips rolling and smacking against mine. His other hand reached down to play with my clit, adding an extra layer of pleasure to his rough fucking.

I whined into his hand, his tip annihilating that gummy spot in me, making my face contort in pleasure, his grin widened as he felt my pussy tighten around him at the sensation.

His thrusting became faster and harder, his hips snapping sharply with each movement, he wanted to fuck me so well that I wouldn't be able to walk straight for days.

"You like that, hm?" he taunted, his breath hot and heavy against my neck as he fucked me with unrelenting hunger. He reveled in the way I squirmed under his commanding touch.

I nodded, breathing out a soft 'yes', the noise vibrating against his hand. His pace increased, his cock plunging deeper and faster, the sound of skin slapping softly echoing in the room, muffled by the sounds of the TV.

He could feek his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he chased his climax, "i'm close baby..cum with me," he whispered, removing his hand from my mouth and replacing it with his lips, my moans escaping into his mouth as he kissed me passionately.

I could feel tension grow in my stomach, my orgasm dangerously close, his shaft slamming into my sopping hole over and over again, wet noises filling our ears as he reached closer to his climax.

"Cmon you little slut, cum on this cock" he growled, his voice hoarse with lust. I rolled my eyes back, my pussy clamping down onto his throbbing cock, I let out a loud moan into his mouth, muffling it with the kiss.

He gasped, quickly pulling out and shooting his thick cum all over my stomach. He pumped his cock several more times, coating my stomach completely in his sticky seed. Breathing heavily, he leaned over me, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he looked down at his cum marking my skin.

"Look at that, you're a real mess now, aren't you?" he chuckled, I rolled my eyes playfully, "yeah, no thanks to you," he grabbed a tissue from my nightstand, cleaning up the evidence of our love making.

He layed back with me, pulling me swiftly onto his chest, running a hand through my disheveled hair, "how did I get so lucky..I never knew you'd share the same feelings I have for you, I thought it would be fucking impossible," he whispered, looking into my eyes lovingly.

"That's exactly what I thought," I giggled, placing a gentle, yet passionate kiss on his lips, Tom draped the blankets over us, covering our sweaty, naked bodies. I felt safe, secure in his arms, this is where I wanted to be, I just wanted to be like this all day, all night, everyday for the rest of my life.

I knew it would be hard, convincing my father to accept Tom and make ammends with his gang, considering the betrayal that occured, hurting his father who was the last leader of the gang.

"I really hope your dad accepts me, I mean, I'd do anything for you, I need you so bad it's crazy, you occupy my every thought, there's not a day where I'm not thinking about you.." he said gently, I looked in his eyes, searching for any sign of deception but the only things that I could find was sincerity.

"Tom..." I muttered softly, "I mean it, I want to spend every waking moment with you, I want you by my side everywhere I go," he caressed my cheek gently.

"I really want that too..I'm sure we'll find a way to convince him, afterall he is my father and always wants the best for me, he always has," I smiled, giving him the reassurance he needed.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @ballhair

tags: @kaulitzsbabyy @kaulitzswhxre @tomsonlyslut

tags: @bkaulitzlover @bills-wife-1 @20doozers

tags: @miyukafujii @ella1289

[ippokampos]

perks of working at a vintage store (pt 2):

[houseofaegon]

WICKED GAME ✩ Sebastian Stan

STATUS: Work In Progress.

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Fem!OC.

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. angst, very slow burn, cheating, arranged marriage, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. all warnings will be updated on each chapter.

masterlist. chapter 1. chapter 2. chapter 3.

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Genevieve Amelia Rothschild is a problem.

Born into old money and scandals, raised in million-dollar penthouses and pressed into silk dresses, forced into etiquette and expectations. But beneath the polished surface, she's always been something else entirely—a wildfire wrapped in couture and gold, a scandal waiting to happen.

She's spent her years living fast, breaking rules, and racking up headlines. Party girl. Wild child. Black sheep. Always too much—and always exactly what the press loves to hate.

Now she's twenty-five and engaged to a man she doesn't love. The wedding is a carefully arranged spectacle—beautiful, calculated, entirely hollow, and nothing but a fucking lie. The guest list read like a who's who of high society, of the elites. The dress? Dior. The venue? A billion-dollar mansion in Los Angeles. The whole world watching. All Ginny has to do is smile and behave. 

But behaving has never been her specialty.

After one too many public disasters, her mother sends her away to Sicily. Alone. "To rest," she says. "To stay out of trouble."

Ginny is exiled to Sicily, to the White Lotus—a luxury resort carved into the cliffs above the sea, where everything smells like citrus, stillness, Aperol Spritz, and the staff are trained to forget your name. It's beautiful, remote, elite, and fucking suffocating. 

She drinks too much, sunbathes too long, and drapes herself in expensive silk and bathing suits. She's bored. Restless. One sharp breath away from doing something reckless.

Then she sees him.

Sebastian fucking Stan. 

He's older than she remembers. Quieter. Distant in a way that makes it impossible to stop looking. He came to the White Lotus to disappear.  He's here under a fake name, hiding after a very public divorce and a slow-motion fall from grace. He came to disappear. To be left alone. And Ginny? She's the last kind of person he should want.

Too loud. Too rich. Too well-known.

But she looks at him like she already knows all his secrets.

And he watches her like she's the first real thing he's seen in months.

She's spoken for.

He's sworn off.

But something about the Sicilian heat makes you forget the rules.

[canisalbus]

Is that canon!?! Was Machete just really naive/didn't really understand the implications of his relationship to Vasco? Did his mentor ever find out about them or discuss such things with him? I assume bc he didn't have parents, he kinda didn't get educated on sex or anything. Was it a big shock to realize he was "sinning"?

.

[hot-astrology]

"Kama" & Your Sex Style

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 "𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬", 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 & 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

(Kama: 1387)

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 "𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚" 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 "𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬" 𝐚𝐧𝐝 "𝐬𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚," 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫." 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝟑'𝐬 , 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐚, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭��𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩��𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 "𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚" 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐩, 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐩, 𝐩𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥, & 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐜... 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐛𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 "𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚" 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚, 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐱 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐲 & 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 & 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 & 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥. 𝐔𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 & 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨. 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 & 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥���, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 & 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 & 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 & 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞. 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 & 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 & 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 & 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭/ 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 & 𝐝𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✋🏽 𝐣𝐨𝐛𝐬.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫: 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 & 𝐧𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐬. 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 & 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬. 😉

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 & 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬. 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐋𝐞𝐨'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 & 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨: 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 & 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 & 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥-𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 & 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 & 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 & 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 ; 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 & 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 & 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞.

𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞- 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲. 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫.

𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 & 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐲 & 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰. 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐱. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 & 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 & 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 🤭 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫��𝐧𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 & 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐟𝐮𝐥/ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧 ��𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 & 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. 𝐒𝐞𝐱 & 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞,𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲, 𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲/𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚, 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐜 & 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲. 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞.

KAMA - PLANETS

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚- 𝐒𝐮𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥. 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐞��𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚-𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧. 𝐀 𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 & 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐄𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚-𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 & 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 & 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚-𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 & 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐬 & 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚- 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 & 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐠-𝐡𝐨. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 & 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐨. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 & 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 & 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬-𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚- 𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 & 𝐩��𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭 & 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐥. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚-𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 & 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩, 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 & 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚-𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 & 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 & 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚-𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐒𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚. 𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦. 𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 & 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭/𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐮��𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚-𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡/𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 & 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 & 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞 & 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐦.. 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐭𝐡/𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 & 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐮𝐫 "𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐱" 𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐞. 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲. 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫. "𝐀𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞."

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔: 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐳 || 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢

[houseofaegon]

WICKED GAME ch. 1 ✩ Sebastian Stan

STATUS: Work In Progress.

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Fem!OC.

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. angst, very slow burn, cheating, arranged marriage, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. all warnings will be updated on each chapter.

Summary: Genevive Amelia Rothschild, a heiress with a diamond ring she doesn't want. Sebastian Stan, a Hollywood heartthrob hiding from the world. One summer at the White Lotus, and everything begins to unravel. Marriage. Money. Secrets. And one man she was never supposed to touch.

Word count: 1910

masterlist. wicked game. chapter 1. chapter 2. chapter 3.

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𓇢𓆸 Genevieve Rothschild.

Marriage.

What a strange word.

To some, it's the promise of forever. A vow made in whispers and sealed with touch—a union of hearts that long, souls that ache with passion, and shared futures. Laughter in quiet kitchens, soft footsteps down familiar hallways, soft pants, and whispers at midnight.

But for her, marriage had never been about love. Not really. Not in the world she was raised in. It was nothing but a contract, a performance, a careful and crafted negotiation between families with last names that made headlines and had the power to either bankroll political campaigns or destroy the life of a mere mortal. She had known this since she was a girl—watched it happen firsthand over oysters and Bordeaux, witnessed the subtle currency of eye contact at charity galas, the gossiping of mothers to charming suitors speaking about their daughters as objects at an auction.

Love? No. That didn't exist. Strategical partnership? That's more like it.

Genevieve Amelie Rothschild. Ginny, if she liked you. If you could keep up. Heiress to the entire Rothschild fortune. Any man would be a fool if he didn't tried to make a woman like Genevieve fall in love. Not because of her insatiable beauty, but because of who she is. Who her family is.

She was set to inherit the throne if she married a man of wealth. Her father's entire company, every vacation home at the Hamptons, every million dollar car, every single penny. All for her. The only child. The firstborn child.

She had to marry by force, a man whom will only bring more power and wealth to the Rothschild name. A man with a last name just as powerful as hers, but not enough to overshadow. A mere strategically crafted love story.

But, of course, that was not was Ginny wanted. Fuck no. Absolutely not. Never in a million years

She had always been a problem—wrapped in silk, high couture, and gold. A hurricane in high heels. The press called her wild. Her mother called her exhausting. Ginny called herself honest. Always too loud, always too reckless, always too much. And never sorry.

They never knew what to do with a girl like her. A girl who had everything but craved more. Something real. Something that couldn't be bought or arranged, or promised with a million-dollar diamond ring. She didn't want the title, the legacy, the entire empire.

She wanted to feel something. Anything.

By twenty-five, Ginny had been expelled from three boarding schools, photographed with too many men, featured in the headlines far too many times, and engaged to exactly the one her parents had picked. Harrison Aldrige III—handsome, rich, and so perfectly fucking boring. The kind of man whose cufflinks cost more than a car and who smiled like he'd never once been told no.

He kissed her like he was checking a box. Touched her like she was porcelain—expensive, delicate, cold.

He wanted her. Of course he did. Only a fool wouldn't desire a woman so beautiful and so powerful like Genevieve. But she despised him, despised how poised he was, how quiet, how beautifully spoken he was, how educated, how eloquent.

How fucking boring.

Their entire wedding was already a circus. Dior gown. Billion-dollar venue. A guest list so elite it read like a Fortune 500 wet dream. Harrison said he was going to make her the happiest wife—trophy wife to be precise. Her mother said it would be the wedding of the season. Her father called it "an alignment of futures and legacies."

Ginny called it fucking bullshit.

After one particularly unfortunate run-in with paparazzi, with only 1 month until the wedding, her mother intervened. The kind of intervention that came with couture luggage, a private jet, and a one-way ticket to nowhere.

"You're going," Vivienne had said. Her mother always so poise and refined. "Take the time to rest. Stay out of the news. No cameras. No trouble. Just you and the beautiful Sicilian ocean."

So she did.

She disappeared.

The White Lotus in Sicily was hidden in the cliffs above Taormina, built into the bones of old stone and kissed by sea salt and sun. The kind of place where time seemed to slow down. Where the staff wore soft shoes and spoke in lower tones. Where the guests came not to be seen, but to forget that anyone might be looking.

Ginny hated how beautiful it was. How untouched. How classy. How calm. How easy it would be to play along—to pretend she belonged here like everyone else like she wasn't crawling out of her skin.

Her suite was carved into the hillside, pale and open, with gauzy curtains and a plunge pool that overlooked the beautiful sea. There were lemons on the trees and expensive champagne in the fridge. She didn't unpack at first. She just let her clothes live inside of Louis Vuitton bags and laziness.

For three days, she drifted.

Poolside afternoons, designer sunglasses, extremely overpriced cocktails she finished so quickly. She wore white silk and designer swimsuits like a second skin and gold jewelry that glinted in the sun. She ignored her mother's messages. She wanted to throw her phone into the clear ocean every single time Harrison's name lit up the screen. Smoked long, thin cigarettes on the balcony while sipping blood-red wine. Watching the sky change colors and wondering if she could change with it.

She tried to be still. Tried to be silent. She tried so fucking hard to want the life everyone else wanted for her. To want the ring. To want the man. The photo ops. The charity galas. The meticulously planned Instagram captions. The fucking act. The marriage and the wedding.

But she couldn't do it.

But still, the ache remained. Low, constant, suffocating. That edge of her that couldn't be smoother down.

She wasn't relaxed. She felt restrained. Like a wire pulled tight and waiting to snap.

She needed to feel. To live. To be herself, let loose, go out, have fun, have sex and wake up in a stranger's hotel room.

She wanted to love.

But, of course, that would never happen. No man even tried to flirt back, no man could. At the end of the day, Genevieve Rothschild was nothing more than an engaged woman. And everyone knew it.

Fucking boring.

Until breakfast on the fourth morning.

Ginny sat at her usual table, under the shade of an ancient olive tree, the linen of her black dress soft and cool against her already sun-warmed skin. Her cappuccino had gone cold, and she wasn't at all interested in reviving it. Instead, she sipped her third Aperol Spritz with the kind of casual defiance that came naturally to her.

Families around her seemed happy. Real. She couldn't tell if that made her jealous or just fucking sick.

The Di Grassos, whom she had barely spoken to, sat a few tables ahead. The youngest of them, Albie, kept glancing back at her—nervous, pink-cheeked, practically radiating good intentions.

Adorable.

She gave him a slow smile and a lazy wave of her fingers.

Sweet. Too sweet. He would break far too easily.

Then, she noticed it.

The staff, subtle but unmistakable—shoulders straighter, steps lighter. A hush passed like a ripple across the patio. Valentina, the hotel manager, suddenly flitting from server to server, sharp-eyed and trying too hard not to seem obvious.

Ginny noticed. She knew. Of course she knew.

Someone had arrived. Someone important.

She'd been used to things like this her entire life.

A man in dark sunglasses and a black baseball cap walked through the lobby, trailing expensive luggage and the kind of energy you couldn't buy. It rolled off him like heat. Dominant, controlled, deliberate.

Familiar. So familiar.

He followed Valentina with the air of someone used to being followed, but no longer interested in it. Ginny couldn't see his face. Not yet. But she felt him.

Felt the shift.

There was static in the air, and the weight of someone trying so hard not to be seen made everyone look harder.

Her gaze followed him as he walked. Her heart did something strange. Her stomach was tighter. A tension she hadn't felt in weeks. Months. Maybe years.

She sat up straighter.

Something about him pulled at her. Unnamed. Untouched. Unknown

But not for long.

And just like that, she wasn't bored anymore.

Not bored. Not restless.

Interested.

And something dangerously close to thrilled.

She stood up, slowly. Her heels made a clinking sound against the stone patio as she made her way to the breakfast buffet. The spread was mouthwatering—sliced figs, honeycomb, freshly baked pastries still steaming in their baskets, wedges of Parmigiano, blood oranges, you name it. She wasn't really hungry, but she wanted something to do with her hands. Something to distract her, keep her mind occupied, something other than alcohol and cocktails.

She reached for a cluster of grapes, slowly pulling them from the vine and dropping them into her ceramic plate. Her other hand hovered over a wedge of melon. Her eyes were focused on the pink flesh, but her mind was still thinking of him.

Who was he?

A voice beside her made her pause. "They're saying he's a well-known celebrity."

Ginny blinked. She turned her head slowly, catching Albie Di Grasso in her peripheral vision. He stood beside her, slightly hunched, a nervous smile on his lips like he wasn't sure if he was even allowed to talk to her. His cheeks were slightly pink, his dimple making an appearance. So sweet. So naive. Practically shaking in his own swim trunks.

Ginny raised a brow, slicing a piece of prosciutto and placing it delicately beside her fruit. "Oh yeah?" she asked, her voice slow. "And what kind of celebrity are they saying he is?"

Albie cleared his throat, adjusting his stance as if trying to seem taller, more composed. “I—I don’t know exactly. Just… that he’s famous. One of the staff said they recognized him but wouldn’t say who. He checked in under a fake name.”

A fake name, huh?

Ginny turned to him fully now, tilting her head slightly as she leaned in—not too close, just enough to make him hold his breath. Albie blushed. Visibly. She grinned and reached out, lightly patting him on the chest with the back of her hand—just enough to make him freeze in place. He was warm beneath the linen of his shirt, his heart practically pounding against her fingers. Adorable.

“If you hear anything more,” she said, voice dropping slightly, velvet smooth, “come find me.”

“O—okay,” he stammered, blinking far too fast.

She winked and turned, the skirt of her dress catching the air as she walked away.

She could still feel him watching her.

Back at her table, she sat slowly, elegantly, setting her plate down with a delicate clink of ceramic. But her appetite had vanished. Her fingers toyed with a grape, spinning it in place.

The presence lingered, but the mystery man never returned. He was probably hiding inside his suite. 

Her sunglasses were still on, but her eyes were everywhere—sweeping, searching, tracking every glance from the staff. Every whisper. Every hush that fell too suddenly, every curious flick of a head toward the entrance.

He was famous. Someone important. Someone who didn’t want to be found.

She took another sip of her drink, lips parting as the bubbles tickled her tongue—a small smirk forming on her lips. 

Oh, yes.

This trip just got so much better.

[nectar-cellar]

[threads-strings]

I know I called it a Oneshot but what if. What if continue the Brothel thing. What if Bailey regularly overpowering PC when they pay him, so often they expect it. Lie in their bed at night, wait for the sound of the door to slowly open, feel his hand on their mouth. Wait to get shushed into the pillow as they pretend they don’t enjoy what he’s doing when his hands bracket their waist to hold them in place.

Something that happens almost every sunday night by then after Bailey took their virginity, but nothing either of them ever speak of or address, not how PC doesn’t stay sunday nights over in Robin’s bed nor how Bailey postpones payments for a day when they don’t have it ready yet, an unspoken silent agreement they share.

Idk anyone seeing my vision on this with Bailey secretly fucking one of his wards even if he doesn’t have to be afraid of being caught (by who anyways lmao) but having other people know is like admitting to the fact he lost control and broke his own rule, which he’d never do lmao

[i-lovee-youu-too]

Anything to numb the pain right?

[houseofaegon]

WICKED GAME ch. 2 ✩ Sebastian Stan

STATUS: Work In Progress.

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Fem!OC.

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. mentions of cheating, alcohol use, and profane language.

Summary: Genevive Amelia Rothschild, a heiress with a diamond ring she doesn't want. Sebastian Stan, a Hollywood heartthrob hiding from the world. One summer at the White Lotus, and everything begins to unravel. Marriage. Money. Secrets. And one man she was never supposed to touch.

Word count: 3394

masterlist. wicked game. chapter 1. chapter 2. chapter 3.

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𓇢𓆸 Genevieve Rothschild.

Ginny's phone rang just as she'd begun to drift into something that almost resembled calm.

It had been two days. Two whole days since the whispers had started. Since the lobby staff had stiffened their spines and begun speaking in code. Since that man had walked through the lobby in all black, trailing expensive luggage and eyes that refused to meet anyone else's.

Ginny had only caught a glimpse, a silhouette. 

Then nothing. 

It was like he had disappeared into the walls of the resort. Like the earth swallowed him whole. Not a single sighting, not a single whisper of his name. The staff were excellent at discretion, and whoever he was, he clearly wanted to vanish. And he was doing a fucking great job of it.

It had irritated her more than she cared to admit. Not just because she hated being kept from secrets, but because for the first time in weeks—maybe months—her curiosity had sparked.

Now,  sprawled on a cushioned sunbed by the pool, Ginny had her head rested against a soft pillow, a soft exhale escaping through her parted lips. Her long legs stretched out in front of her, bare and golden under the sun, the hem of her white silk robe drifting lazily in the Sicilian breeze. The robe was barely tied, slipping down one shoulder on purpose. Beneath it, her black Versace swimsuit shimmered in the sunlight, gold brooches catching the light with every subtle shift of her hips. Her hair was loose, heavy, dark and wild, fanned out over the cushion. Her skin smelled like jasmine, sunscreen and expensive perfumes. 

She could almost pretend to be relaxed. Almost let herself fall into a peaceful sleep.

Then the phone rang. 

A nearly empty glass of Moscato clinked faintly on the table beside her as she reached for her phone without looking. She didn't need to. She already knew. 

Vivienne Rothschild. 

Of course. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she muttered to herself, already exhausted.

She didn't want to deal with this today. Or ever. 

The sky was so pretty—a clear, perfect blue with not a cloud in sight—and the Mediterranean sparkled just beyond the pool like it was flirting with her. Calm perfection. She was seconds from serenity, and now she was about to be verbally assaulted by none other than her mother. 

Of course the woman had a sixth sense for ruining things. 

She took a final long sip from her Moscato. With a sigh, she swiped to answer and pressed the phone to her ear. "Mother," she said flatly like it tasted bad on her tongue. And it did.

"Genevieve," came Vivienne's voice, crisp and cool like a freshly poured gin martini. "I truly hope you're rested, darling."

Ginny didn't answer. Instead, she reached for the bottle, poured herself another glass, and took a long, deliberate sip.

"There are new photos from the hotel," her mother continued, each word disapproving. "You're in them. Alone. Holding a cocktail at nine in the morning. Are you trying to make a statement, or just proving your critics right?"

Ginny tilted her head back and stared up at the sky. God, it was beautiful. She wondered how many ways she could say fuck off without actually saying it. She could think of at least five better uses of her time than this conversation. Swallowing fire was one of them.

Please, God. If you're out there I think it's her time to go. It's time for you to take her. Do something. 

"I'm on vacation," she said sharply. "Alone, as instructed by none other than you. Would you also like me to wear a chastity belt while I sunbathe, mother?"

"Don't be vulgar," Vivienne choked. She never liked when Ginny raised her tone. And she despised Ginny's sarcastic remarks. "There are standards to be followed, especially by you Genevieve."

"I clearly lowered them when I agreed to marry Harrison," Ginny muttered under her breath.

Her mother pretended not to hear her. Classic.

"Harrison called," Vivienne said.

And there it was. The name she'd been dodging like a fucking bullet. Like it was cursed. 

Ginny rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. "Of course he did."

"He's concerned," her mother continued, slow and condescending. "He said you haven't responded to any of his messages since you arrived in Sicily."

Ginny inhaled slowly, her chest tight, head tilting toward the sea. She imagined throwing her phone into it, watching it sink. Maybe swimming after it just for the drama.

"Maybe I've run off with a Sicilian prince," she said. "Or maybe I'm too busy participating in an orgy with hot Italian men to answer to my dear fiancé. Wouldn't that be a scandal?"

"Genevieve."

"I'm just saying, Mother. That would make the papers, wouldn't it? Finally a story with a little excitement."

"You will behave," Vivienne snapped, her patience finally fraying at the edges. "You will not embarrass this family—"

"Too late," Ginny cut in. "Already did that at birth, didn't I? You told me that yourself."

Silence. 

"You have one month, Genevieve. That's thirty days to become the woman we need you to be. Keep your name out of the headlines, your legs closed, and your mouth smiling."

Ginny ended the call. Didn't say goodbye. Didn't give her the satisfaction. 

She dropped the phone onto the cushion beside her and stared at the sea, the rage in her chest burning hotter than the sun on her skin.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Mostly, she wanted to punch something, or someone. Maybe all three at once.

Instead, she just slid her sunglasses and stood up.Something bitter, something strong. Something to remind her she was still in control of at least one thing. 

She needed a fucking drink. 

𝜗𝜚

The Negroni hit like a charm—cool, sharp, sensual. It kissed her mouth and burned her throat, the pain made her smile into the glass like it was the first thing to get her in so long. Ginny licked her lips, savoring the taste as she made her way back to the pool.

She sat in a different lounge chair, one that caught the sunlight just right, close enough to the edge of the pool. She dropped her robe onto the cushion behind her with slow deliberate motion. Beneath it, her swimsuit clung to her like it had been painted on. Practically indecent. Black, high-cut, custom Versace, too tiny, cinched at the waist with gold brooches that shimmered under the sun with every movement. Sultry. Provocative. Thrilling.

She sat, sipped her Negroni and tried to drift herself to sleep. 

And then—

She saw him.

Black linen shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chiseled sun-kissed chest. Black swim shorts that hugged his thighs just right. Cigarette held between two fingers, slow and casual, like he had all the time in the world. A watch gleamed at his wrist—sleek, expensive, the kind worn by someone who didn’t need to know the time but liked being reminded he owned it. His sunglasses, tilted just slightly down the bridge of his nose, framed a face she would’ve recognized in any crowd, in any country, in any lifetime.

Sunglasses.

Her breath caught. 

The same sunglasses from two mornings ago. 

The ones from the lobby. From the whispers. From the buzz in the air. 

Her heart stopped. Or maybe it stuttered. She wasn't sure.

He was sitting just a few chairs down. Reclined, sprawled out like sin itself, spread out like he owned the place, all tanned and gorgeous and brooding. A negroni sat untouched beside him. His sunglasses lay low on the bridge of his nose, and she could just make out the faint lines beneath his blue eyes.

Sebastian fucking Stan.

It hit her like an ice bath and a wildfire at the same time. Her pulse kicked in her neck. Her stomach did that stupid, traitorous flip. Her thighs pressed tighter without her permission.

He looked older than the last time she'd seen him on a red carpet but in a good way. His hair was shorter, messier. Slightly pushed back from his forehead in that accidental way that looked effortless—like he'd dragged a hand through it mid-sigh and just left it there. Sun on his skin. Stubble along his jaw.

Rough. Real. Fuckable.

Not the smiling man in press junkets. Not the red carpet charmer or magazine cover prince. This man looked like he'd stopped caring a long time ago. Like he'd bled and burned and came here to bury the ashes.

And somehow, he was more magnetic than he’d ever been.

She couldn’t stop staring.

Her pulse skipped. Holy shit, it was him.

He looked good. Too good.

Those beautiful eyes that wanted to be looked at, that mouth that screamed to be kissed, those arms that craved to be touched.

Her eyes dragged down the length of him, lingering for a moment too long on his chest, the lines of muscles visible where his shirt was open. He was tanned, but not too much. Slightly kissed by the Sicilian sun. Arms flexed slightly as he brought the cigarette to his lips, and Ginny had the sudden, almost feral thought that she wanted to taste the smoke coming out of his lips.

She tilted her head, curious. He hadn't looked at her yet. 

She knew that kind of stillness. The posture. The way someone pretends not to notice because noticing would make it real. That look on his face. That aura he portrayed. She had perfected it herself. The kind that meant I know I'm being watched, and I'm trying not to care.

She could tell, even from a distance—he didn't want to be recognized. He didn't want to be known.

Which made her want to know him more.

What are you doing here, Sebastian Stan?

What was a man like him doing hiding out in a place like this? Running from what? From who?

She shifted slightly on her chair, the leather squeaking beneath her. She sipped her drink again, slower this time. Sliding down her sunglasses with her empty hand, halfway down her nose as she looked his way again, bold and unbothered.

He looked back.

It was subtle, a flick of the eyes. 

But when their gazes locked, something in the air shifter. It thickened. Like heat rising off the stone below them. Like Mount Etna had erupted right then and there.

His jaw tightened. His chest rose and fell with a sharper breath. There was the faintest movement in his throat as he swallowed. Even with the glasses on, she could feel him seeing her. Taking her in.

Her skin lit up from the inside out.

She held the look. Didn’t smile at first. Just stared, let him drown in it.

Then—like a dare—her eyes dropped. Traced the long line of his throat. Drifted down his chest. Lazily, like she was checking him out for sport, like she hadn't spent the last minutes with her gaze traveling down his body. Then she slowly slid her eyes back up to meet his gaze again.

And she smiled.

Slow. Wicked. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

He stood up fast. No warning. No flinch. Just moved. Stubbed out the cigarette in a small ceramic ashtray. Tossed back his drink like it was water. The glass made a dull clink as he set it down. Then he turned.

And walked away.

Back straight. Shoulders squared. Jaw locked.

But Ginny saw it. She saw the way his fists curled. She saw the tightness in his spine. She saw the tension in his throat.

He was rattled.

He’d been affected.

Affected by her. 

Got you, she thought. A thrill slid down her spine. God bless the White Lotus. 

Her mother had been right. She did need a vacation, some time away from home, from Harrison. 

But maybe not for the reasons anyone expected.

𓇢𓆸 Sebastian Stan.

He’d made it two whole days without a single soul recognizing him. That had to be some kind of record.

That’s what he’d come here for. Not for the sun, or the negronis, or the linen shirts he barely remembered packing. He’d come to disappear. To vanish. To fall off the face of the fucking earth and melt into the heat of the Sicilian coast until the buzzing in his brain finally quieted.

But there was no escaping the weight in his chest. Not really. It didn't lift with the sea breeze, didn't easy beneath the heat of the sun, didn't disappear with the taste of cold and bitter Negronis on his tongue. It was rooted there—deep, unmovable. It curled up under his ribs like rot and made itself a home, heavy, constant, painful. A dull, persistent ache that wrapped around his lungs and settled in his bones. It never stopped whispering. Reminding. Mocking.

He was tired. 

Tired of being looked at. Tired of being wanted for things that didn't matter. Tired of the headlines and the carefully curated lies. Tired of whispers. Tired of every press junket, every staged photo, every time someone called him "brave" for surviving a headline they helped create. Tired of the fucking whispers.

And most of all—he was tired of hearing her name.

Anabelle.

His wife. His ex-wife.

She had ruined everything. Slowly, at first, almost unnoticeable. So slow, so carefully concealed, he didn’t even realize how much he was bleeding until he was already drowning in it. Oh but he noticed. Of course he did. The distance. The unanswered texts. The way she'd start sleeping with her phone on Do Not Disturb. The way she smiled less when he was around, but smiled at her phone like a teenager in love. Touched him less. Started treating him like he was a script to be memorized, not a man to be loved. 

And especially not a husband. 

He wasn't blind, the signs were there. But he'd tried to convince himself it was normal. That they were busy. That she was tired. Or maybe he was. 

She had stopped seeing him before she even left him.

And he tried. God, he fucking tried. Date nights, surprise trips, therapy sessions. But no matter how hard he fought, she never reached back.

She wasn't unhappy. She was already gone.

But he never expected this.

He never expected to find out the way he did.

And when the truth came out, it wasn’t in a quiet confrontation. It wasn’t behind closed doors or whispered apologies.

He found out the same way the rest of the world did—on fucking TMZ.

Paparazzi shots. Grainy, but clear enough. Anabelle. Laughing. Arms around his best friend. Lucas. Someone Sebastian had known since he was nineteen. Someone who had been in his life for over a decade. Who had been in his wedding. His best friend. His best man. His ride-or-die. The guy who stood next to him at his wedding. The one who toasted to their love like he believed in it. The one who knew everything.

They were in Paris.

And there she was—in the backseat of a sleek black car, her legs draped lazily across Lucas' lap, his hand on her thigh, her head tilted toward his like they were the only people in the world. Kissing like they hadn’t destroyed someone else’s.

And suddenly, Sebastian’s phone lit up like a bomb had gone off. Messages. Missed calls. His agent. His publicist.Friends sending nothing but, "Jesus, man—I'm so sorry. I didn't know. You know I would've told you." Fans who wanted to know if it was real.

He'd stood there in his kitchen in Los Angeles, barefoot, holding a mug of coffee that had gone cold hours ago. He stared at the screen for a long time. Couldn’t even blink.

There was no screaming. No rage. Not at first.

Just a hollow, numb kind of clarity. The moment you realize it's not a storm coming. It's already hit. Already here. Already destroyed everything. And you're the only one left standing in the middle of the destruction, wondering when and how it all happened.

Wondering how you were so stupid. So naive. So blind. 

And the worst part? She didn't even tried to lie.

No phone call. No apology. No explanation. No excuses. Not even a why.

Just a text, hours later. "I'm sorry you found out like that."

What the fuck did that even mean?

It felt as if he was just an inconvenience. Like she didn’t just publicly humiliate him in front of the entire fucking world.

Front page. Trending topic. Bold headlines. 

Then came the press tour. Not for a film—for damage control.

She painted herself in soft colors. Said they grew apart. Said he was distant. Said she’d fallen out of love. Played the victim. Spoke about their distance. How he had changed. How he wasn’t emotionally available. And somehow, the public bought it. Ate it up like wine-soaked gossip.

Anabelle—beautiful, poised, doe-eyed Anabelle—suddenly became the woman who couldn’t be held. Who deserved better. Who deserved to be loved harder. 

And he became the villain. The man who couldn’t love enough. Who wasn’t enough.

He was the victim.

And yet, somehow, she still got all the fucking sympathy.

They blamed him for it. 

Fucking unbelievable.

The divorce had been ugly. Horrifying. Not the kind that people moved on from fast and quietly. No. Fuck no. It had been dissected on talk shows, tweeted about in real-time, turned into podcast content and PR nightmares. 

He was tired. Exhausted. Not just physically—though sleep came and went, mostly went—but something deeper. He'd smiled through press junkets, film festivals, premieres. Had too many photos taken with uncountable women he couldn't even remember and drinks he downed not because he enjoyed it, but because he wanted to forget. Then one morning, he woke up and realized he hadn't felt anything in months.

Anything real.

So he left. 

Told his agent to clear his entire calendar and tell no one where he was or what he was doing. 

He completely disappeared.

Said fuck it. Told his agent to cancel everything. Told his team not to call. Booked a one-way trip and checked into the White Lotus under the name James Barnes—because at least that name didn’t come with expectations. Using a corporate card no one could trace. Because paparazzi worked really fucking hard if they really wanted to. 

And for two whole days, it worked.

No press. No cameras. No Hollywood. 

Just silence.

It was so quiet here, so safe. Too expensive for paparazzi, too discreet for influencers. Absolutey perfect. 

He kept to himself. Drank by the pool. Swam on the beach. Smoked cigarettes like his life depended on it. Wore sunglasses and linen and silence like an armor. People still looked. Of course they did. But they never approached. Didn't dared to. Not here. 

Until he saw her.

He felt her before he saw her. Like heat, a sudden shift in the pressure. Like something inside him told him to turn his head and look. 

He glanced up and there she was.

Sprawled in a sunbeam like a fucking Roman goddess, sunglasses down her nose, gold flashing everywhere in her body. Her skin was sun-warmed, glowing. Her lips glossed from her drink. Her hair loose, wild.

Genevieve fucking Rothschild.

Of course he knew the name. Everyone did.

The scandal princess. The heiress. The wild child born into one of the oldest fortunes in the world. He'd seen her face splashed across gossip sites, tabloids, magazine covers—always with a headline, always with a scandal. Dancing barefoot in couture on the streets of Madrid. Drunk in Monaco. Nearly naked in Saint-Tropez. Kissing someone she shouldn’t on the steps of a yacht that cost more than most people’s lives. His included. 

He’d heard about the engagement, too. Of course he had. Everyone had. The Rothschild daughter and her perfect, pressed, legacy-groom fiancé. 

But Sebastian saw right through it. All of it.

A fucking fake wedding. A wild thing dressed up like a duchess, forced into a crown and heels. A leash disguised as a diamond ring. 

And now—there she was.

Looking right at him.

Her gaze was slow, deliberate. Not flirtatious. Predatory. The kind of look that says I know exactly what I’m doing to you, and I want you to feel it. She undressed him with her eyes like it was her right. And the worst part? He let her.  And in that second—he felt it. His skin went tight. His lungs forgot how to work.

And when she smiled—Jesus fucking Christ.

It hit him low, hot, deep. Like a warning. Like a dare.

He stood. Threw back the rest of his drink. Didn’t look again. Because if he did—he wouldn't be able to walk away. And he wasn’t ready to burn again.

Not yet.

[hot-astrology]

Erotic Asteroids: uncut

𝐖𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐬, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲, 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐰𝐞𝐭, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐨𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬, 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬. 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨, 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬, 𝐋𝐞𝐨, 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲. 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟  𝟒 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐀 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝟏𝟕 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫. 𝐈𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬. 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬-𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬,𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐳𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐨, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐢-𝐟𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬-𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬 , 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐫. 𝐘𝐞𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨-𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐡𝐡𝐡 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐭! (𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬) 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨-𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬. 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐫𝐛 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝟏 𝐨𝐫 𝟐 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟑 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭. 𝐀𝐬 𝐢𝐧 "𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭" 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰��𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 (𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞) 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭. 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐛 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 

7753 (1988 XB ) - Extreme sexual activity

15820 (1994 TB) - Sexual deepening resisting temptation

5874 (1996 TL66) - Discharge; squirting

55636 (2002 TX300) - Pimps

78799 (2002 XW93) - Group sex

131318 (2001 FL194) - Libido, lust for life, vitalism, warlock, witch king, great occult sexual strength and stamina

Copy & Paste⤵

7753, 15820, 5874, 55636, 78799, 131318

134210 (2005 PQ21) - Porn, extreme sexual activity &creativity

316179 (2010 EN65) - Discharge, orgasm

999004 (2000 CO104) - Orgasm, ecstasy

887 ( Alinda) - Unpleasant but instinctive experiences & failures sexually

1221 (Amor) - Wanting to score sexually for status; purposefully sexual activity

1863 (Antinous) - Heightened sex appeal

404 Arsino- Increased sexual needs, especially when reaching the midlife period, possibly abuse in youth when afflicted, anal sex, homo-and bisexuality, extreme sexual urges rooted in being abused as a child or teenager.

672 Astarte- Sex and lust felt as a safe haven contrasting death and the spirit world.

5808 Babel - Erotic literature.

2063 Bacchus- Excreting sexual fluids; orgiastic.

24219 Chrisodom - Anal sex, brilliant intellectual qualities.

65 Cybele - Incest, large age differences between sexual partners; fetishism; castration.

60558 Echeclus - Lubricants; bisexual an homosexual encounters.

1647 Menelaus-Sex or porn as an outlet unbalanced yang energy.

3553 Mera - In our opinion, this asteroid represents virginity, chastity, and where you may be tricked out of your innocence. In Greek mythology, Mera was a devotee to Artemis. Mera pledged to stay a virgin forever, but Zeus (artemis's father) tricked Mera, and this led to her getting in trouble with Artemis.

545 Messalina- Sexual Aura, High libido, Liberation

1144 Oda- Pathological sexuality.

Copy & Paste⤵

134210, 316179,999004,887,1221, 1963, 404,672 ,5808,2063,65,60558 ,1647,3553,545, 1144

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