#horizonal symmetric

[jokuvainart]

Parallel

[pie-bean]

Decorating beaches that feel somewhat realistic is so difficult for me; they usually end up looking chaotic and messy. Like I want a structure but a structure with a sense of playfulness on top of it. I'm not sure I make sense but does anyone have good advice for nice beaches?

[mayorwhisper]

You can be a mermaid on @mikaa.crossing ‘s island Barbados! Be ready for waterfalls and lots of pretty symmetrical decor.

DA 0903-7334-0205 

[yaespook]

Warmth Ensnared.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Reader x Yan! Selkie! Sub! Bottom! Neuvillette, no gendered terms used for reader, reader has a cock, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Neuvillette, inexperienced virgin Neuvillette, blowjob (Neuvillette giving), mentions of marking and biting. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The torso and right paw of the fortune cat appear on the front desk.]

The heavens weep their cold tears as you make your way down the coastline, an umbrella in hand. The raindrop pelts harshly against the cheap plastic of your umbrella as the moonlight weakly lights the path ahead of you from behind the clouds.

You’re not quite sure what compelled you to venture out in such heavy rain or what keeps you from turning around and walking home but when you see the unfortunate sight a couple steps before you, perhaps it was a good idea you came out after all.

Frustrated growls and gruff barks reach your ears as a large seal thrashes around on the shore, struggling to free itself from the net that ensnares its flippers and tail. Its efforts are in vain as it seemingly tangles itself more and more in the net with every movement, its vocalisations growing increasingly distressed. 

You rush over, determined to free the poor seal. Sensing a potential threat, the seal looks straight at you approaching amidst its struggle and tries to shuffle away, frightened.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, I’m trying to help you out.” Your words seem to soothe as it cautiously observes you when you slowly move in closer, making no attempts to try to attack you. While you try to work its flippers out of the net, you realise that the earlier thrashing had complicated the entanglement, resulting in multiple knots and loops that are too hard to undo with one hand. 

Sighing, you set your umbrella aside to free up your other hand, angling it and propping it up in the wet sand so as to block as much of the rain as possible. Despite your umbrella, the chilling rain gradually starts to seep through your clothes as you aid the seal. It eyes you curiously, surprisingly calm, even going so far as to lifting the flipper you’re working the net off of. 

Now that you’re a lot closer, you also take the time to examine the seal for any other injuries. Its fur is a shade of silvery grey, with some symmetrical markings or patterns on its belly that almost glow in the dim moonlight. 

After a couple minutes, the seal is freed from the net entirely and you bundle the fabric in your arm to dispose of properly later, your other hand holding your umbrella again. Standing, you watch on as it hurries to the shoreline and ventures beyond the waves, going back to its watery habitat. Swimming further out, the seal suddenly stops and turns back to stare at you for a second. Then, it nods towards you, as if thanking you for your help before quickly diving underwater.

Assured that the seal is safe now, you turn and begin to head back home. Although you’re soaked to the bone, a pleasant emotion arises in you from your good deed and the supposed show of gratitude you received in the end. And maybe the heavens are smiling upon you! The downpour immediately starts to clear up, the rain clouds dissipating from the sky, revealing the moon hiding behind them and lighting your way home.

(Unbeknownst to you, a sharp pair of pale lavender eyes emerge from the depths, eyeing you as you leave.)

The next time you find yourself strolling along the beach, the evening sky is mostly clear, save for a few heavy rain clouds that look to be gathering at the edge of the horizon, slowly rolling in. You recall the seal from before and there’s an unexplainable tugging to go back to that location, even though you’re not exactly sure what you hope to find.

After that night, you’ve looked for information regarding seals congregating along that coast but unable to find any records or news about seals in your local natural ecosystem, you dismissed it as some sort of cosmic coincidence that your walk would end with you freeing a seal.

The seal would be nice to see once more though what you actually do see instead is a little stranger than anything you were expecting.

There’s an odd person loitering near the water where you freed the seal. Bizarrely enough, he’s donning a sopping wet yet extravagant fur coat. Water drips from his long hair however, he doesn’t seem to mind it at all. He’s incredibly out of place but his face doesn’t show it, even as you try your best not to stare. Rather, he opens his mouth to ask, (you get a flash of fangs), his voice a soothing timbre.

“Apologies. I'm new around here and I seem to have gotten lost. May I trouble you for directions?”

A couple questions zip around in your head: How did he end up at the beach? Did he go swimming in his fur coat? Is he not cold? Realising that you’ve been staring at his fur coat all this time and not speaking, you awkwardly clear your throat and ultimately settle with saying, “I think we'd better dry you off first before you catch a cold.”

Thankfully, there’re still cafes open along the more crowded area of the beach. After getting him a hot drink of his choice to warm himself up (an order for a cup of hot water definitely raised some eyebrows), you ask him to stay put before going to fetch a couple towels from a nearby beach kiosk for him to dry off.

“Thank you for all the help you have extended to me despite this being your first time meeting me,” he says, his tone sincere as he dries his hair, having finished his cup of water.

“It’s no problem really, I’m pretty sure most would’ve helped you out too. How did you end up so soaked in the first place?”

“Ah, it’s a bit much to talk about-” he cuts himself off, “-Where are my manners, I have not introduced myself yet. I am Neuvillette.” A quick handshake, introductions and small talk exchanged, a friend gained.

The two of you talk until you’re ushered out by the cafe staff and agree to meet again next week at this cafe to spend more time together. 

You find yourself looking forward to the days with Neuvillette, no matter the activity. (Strangely, on the days you’re unable to meet up with Neuvillette, the weather forecast never matches up, the skies always overcast with dark clouds.)

An additional fun treat is that every time the both of you meet, he never fails to regale you with fantastical tales, with myths and legends from the unfathomable depths of merfolk and sea monsters, each tale more and more outlandish and wondrous than the last. The details that he injects to his stories are so intricate that you’d almost believe he was recounting them from personal experience itself.

The agenda for today’s hangout: Bring him around the local aquarium! A leisurely stroll whilst admiring the sealife, listening to his informative explanations on how the marine ecosystem functions, how everything has a crucial part to play in it. But your day gets a lot better when your Neuvie mysteriously draws the attention of the seals when the both of you walk past them. The lovable blobs bounce up to him, as near as possible, gleefully barking away, trying to get his attention.

You laugh as you watch on at the display, “Looks like I’ve managed to catch myself a seal prince!”

His face heats up at your remark, a light hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the commotion from the seals. He musters up a weak chuckle as he meets your eyes.

“And perhaps you have.” 

The seals glance between the two of you and somehow manage to bark even louder, some even clapping their flippers against their bodies. Once you’ve decided that it was enough embarrassment for your poor Neuvie, taking his hand in yours, you lead him off to the next section of the aquarium. Your hand brushes against the sleeves of his fur coat that he constantly wears. (His fingers entwine with yours, his grip secure.)

By the time you finish touring the entire aquarium, it’s the late evening, the street lights already lit as the dinner crowd mills about for a place to dine in.

Over the course of dinner, he sneaks little glances at you between bites of his food, smiling slightly when you catch him red-handed but never saying what’s on his mind. It’s only when the two of you are walking out of the restaurant, he works up the nerve to ask.

“We have been seeing each other for some time now, and I hope that I am not overstepping to suggest,” his cheeks flush, “that perhaps we could take this to another level…”

His breath catches when he feels your hand finding his as you say, “My place then?” 

The instant you lead him into your home and room, you press your lips against his and revel in the small clipped moan you manage to drag out of him. Neuviellette doesn’t seem to be experienced, given the sloppy way he kisses you back and how you can feel him beginning to grind against your thigh between his legs. When you pull away, he’s panting, pupils dilated as he chases after you.

“Your first time, Neuvie?”

“Ah. Yes… my deepest apologies if I do not manage to satisf-” You stop him before he can finish his sentence, shushing him with a quick kiss.

“Shush, Neuvie, it’s nothing to apologise for. If anything, I’m honoured to be your first,” you tuck a hair behind his ear, leaning in to whisper, your tone teasing, “In fact, I think teaching you allll about it might just be even better ♡”

Soon, you have him knelt between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed, guiding your cock to his lips.

“Watch your fangs now, Neuvie.” 

He flicks his tongue out, swirling it around the head, licking at it before his lips close around your tip. True to your words, he’s careful about his fangs as slowly, he takes you into his mouth. A low groan filters through the air when you feel his tongue press up against the underside of your length.

“Ngh, that’s great, Neuvie…” Your hand caresses the side of his face, his skin warm where you touched, “So good at this already.”

The sight of him peering up at you from his spot, how he’s engulfed your every inch (does he not have a gag reflex?), his eyes slowly glazing over, it sends lust coursing through your veins. He’s so perfect for you.

“Do you think you could move?” Neuvillette hums in agreement, the vibrations stimulating as he starts bobbing his head, obedient as he even tries to occasionally swallow around you when you hit the back of his throat. The wet sounds of slurping only serve to arouse you even further, joined by the moans Neuvillette lets out, as if savouring the taste of you.

“Ah! L-Let me pull out Neuvie-?!” At your words, his hands suddenly clamp tightly onto your thighs before he takes you as far as he can, sucking hard as he feels your cock twitch on his tongue. 

It’s not long before you cum, spurting your load down his throat that he devours eagerly, moaning at the taste. When he frees you from his mouth with a lewd “pop!”, his tongue lolls out, showing that he really did swallow everything you gave him.

Cupping his face in your hands, you bring him up to lock lips with him, making out fiercely, more tongue than anything. 

“So greedy, Neuvie, why didn’t you let me pull out?” He just gives you a light ditzy chuckle before ducking back in for another kiss, unable to be separated from you. You drink in all his muffled noises, your hands roving over his body as he indulges himself in your warmth, your everything. 

And you’re so caring too, taking the time to constantly check in on him as you thoroughly prep him so his first time wouldn’t hurt. Your fingers coated in lube, you gingerly work him open as he lets out unrestrained whines. A keen rips from him when the tip of your finger bumps against his prostate, the unfamiliar pleasure a very welcome one.

You treat him so well, how could he not be drunk on your love?

“Tell me everything you feel Neuvie,” your tip breaches his rim and it has him seeing stars behind his closed eyes.

“Hah! So good-!” He’s embraced in your arms, his heaving chest against yours as his heart races at the ecstasy you’re granting him. Inch by inch, you sink into his hole. Your skin is sticky against his and he presses himself onto your body, wanting to feel all of you. His breath comes out in pants as you reach deeper into him, your cock filling him up even more.

“Look at you, Neuvie, such a treasure.” Your praise pushes him closer to his tipping point. And when you graze past his prostate, his vision whites out instantly.

“Hgnk! Cumming- AH!” Clinging onto you even tighter, his cum splatters onto his skin and yours, unconsciously grinding your cock deeper into him as he rides out his high. He collapses against you, burying into the crook of your neck when he feels you press a kiss to the top of his head and smile.

Neuvillette has always been so used to the indifferent coldness of the open ocean, the unyielding pressure beneath the waves. But you’ve changed him, he’s addicted to the warmth you’ve shown to him ever since your first fated meeting. (Never mind that you still don’t know that the seal you rescued was him, you will understand in due time.)

Now that he’s with you, swapping fur for skin, trading water for land, the happiness he feels when he’s yours is incomparable. He’s become enamoured with all of you. He’d give up anything else to stay by your side like this forever. Anything to be with you.

The next morning, Neuvillette is rather lively but you chalk it up to the intimate session last night. It was his first time after all, and you’re just glad that he seemed to enjoy it. But he’s a lot clingier with the way he has to be near you at all times, be it wordlessly tailing you around your home or sitting next to you whenever.

As the both of you cuddle, still too lazy to get started with the day since you’re entangled in each other, he suddenly peels himself off of you. Neuvillette sheds his fur coat, folding it neatly, then presenting it to you.

“I want you to have this,” there’s a jovial lilt in his voice, almost akin to a seal’s chirp, “Do you accept it?”

“Are you sure? You wear this everywhere and it’s probably important to you, I couldn’t take it.” Neuvillette shakes his head, firm in his stance.

“I insist you have it. It is important, but,” he looks into your eyes, in them, a raw frenzied sincerity swirls like whirlpools, “That’s why I want you to have it.”

“When you put it that way,” you take the coat from him, experimentally draping it over yourself, sighing when you realise truly how soft it is.

“Thank you Neuvie.” The tender moment is broken when he leans in, ensnaring you in a ravenous kiss. Darting your tongue into his mouth, he’s no longer shy like yesterday, letting out needy whimpers as he deepens the kiss.  

“You didn’t, hah, finish in me last night, my love,” he huffs during stolen breaths in between kisses, “You need to. Pleasepleaseplease!”

He’s dragging you back into your room and soon enough, you have him under you, the fur coat draped on your back as you rut into him. His walls clench down on your shaft, his legs locking around your hips to make sure you don’t pull out of him when you climax. 

A dizzying mixture of mania and desire floods through his system when you suck a hickey onto his pristine skin. He feels your scorching breath fan across his collarbone and when your lips make contact with his skin, he jolts, aware of every pleasurable sensation you’re flooding him with right now. 

And it’s only fair if he gets you to mark you too. Claiming you as his other half, his destined partner. Sharp teeth pierce and break past your skin as Neuvillette bites down on your shoulder.

He recalls his moments with you: How you miraculously showed up in his time of need. Helping him time and time again. The other seals rowdily congratulating their prince on finding a mate. And finally, how you accepted his pelt.

How you accepted him.

He laps at the bitemark when he detaches, a sense of fulfilment bubbling up in him. A particularly deep grind drags him out of his thoughts, an unabashed moan escaping him.

“Thinking about something else, while- ah! -I’m here fucking you?”

“N-No! Only thinking- ghk?! -of, of you! Only y-you!” Neuvillette blubbers out, sensing every movement of your dick in him. 

“I’m close! Going to- hnn! -cum!” Hearing your words, his words tumble out of his mouth unintelligibly.

“In me! Hah- ah! Cum in me! Please, love! In me- need it, need you-!!”

Pressing your hips into his, you finish in him as per his request, his legs looping around you even tighter, forcing you to reach further in him. 

The stretch drives Neuvillette wild and when he feels the warm bliss spreading in him, his eyes roll into his skull and he throws his head back, letting out an animalistic growl as he cums. 

"I love you I love you I love you I love you!"

Later, when you’ve wiped the both of you down, the cuddling resumes. Cracking an eye open, you see Neuvillette snuggling into the fur coat.

“See, you’re still attached. I couldn’t take it.”

“No, no, my love. You’ve already taken it.” He flips over to face you, “Do you know the ‘legend’ of selkies, my love?”

At the shake of your head, he begins to speak. You listen as he recounts the tale, how important their sealskin is to them, the symbolism of owning a selkie’s precious pelt. 

His voice is otherworldly, mesmerising, as if it were the gentle lull of a fishing boat on the water. 

“The tales usually spell the misery of a selkie who has had their pelt taken forcibly against their will. I’ve seen it happen to my subjects in the past. But I am fortunate.” 

…His subjects?

When your eyes open again, (you didn't even know they closed in the first place), a selkie lays before you. His fur is a shade of silvery grey, with some symmetrical markings or patterns on his belly that almost glow. His webbed hand tipped with claws captures yours. His eyes are brine pools and his fangs are trident-sharp when he speaks.

And he says.

”So take me, and I'll give all of myself up for you.”

[> You add a fur pelt to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

[rootedinrevisions]

In My Heart is a Christmas Tree Farm

SUMMARY: It’s the first Christmas together for you and Tyler, and after moving into his farmhouse, you’re excited to start new traditions with him—like picking out the perfect tree. But what starts as a charming trip to the Christmas Tree Farm quickly turns into a hilarious and heartwarming adventure, from getting the tree home to figuring out how to fit it through the front door. As the holiday chaos unfolds, the two of you share quiet moments decorating the tree, with laughter, playful banter, and unspoken love filling the air.

A/N: This is the first of a few holiday fics that I have planned or in the works! Please let me know what you guys think with hearts, reblogs, and comments! I love getting feedback from you guys!

WARNINGS: None. Just fluff.

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

The truck rumbled to a stop on the gravel drive of the Christmas tree farm, the engine cutting out with a low growl. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you looked out at the rows of evergreens stretching into the horizon. This was your first Christmas living with Tyler, and picking out a real tree together felt like the start of something special—a new tradition, just the two of you.

The crisp December air hit you as soon as you stepped out of the truck, making you pull your coat a little tighter around yourself. The smell of pine was already thick in the air, and your boots crunched softly against the ground as you moved closer to the truck bed.

Tyler slid out of the driver’s seat with an easy grace, tugging the brim of his cap a little lower against the cold. His Carhartt jacket hugged his frame, the earthy tan color a perfect match for his ruggedness. He turned toward you, a teasing glint in his eye, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but admire him. He just had that effortless charm about him—completely unbothered and completely Tyler.

“So,” he drawled, his breath visible in the chilly air as he closed the truck door behind him. “Have you decided what kinda tree you’re lookin’ for yet, darlin’?”

You grinned, tucking your hands into your coat pockets. “Something big and full. You know, a real showstopper.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow, clearly already bracing himself for what this would mean for his part of the job. 

“Figures. You’d pick somethin’ that makes me work for it.” His grin softened the words, though, and you nudged his arm as the two of you started walking toward the trees.

The farm was lively with families and couples all bundled up, laughter and chatter floating through the brisk air. The two of you wandered along the rows of trees, the crunch of your boots and the faint sound of Christmas music playing over the farm’s speakers filling the silence.

Tyler stopped in front of a smaller tree, one that barely came up to his shoulder. He gestured toward it with a tilt of his head. “What about this one? Nice and easy to haul back.”

You gave him a flat look, one hand resting on your hip. “That’s not even a Christmas tree; it’s a glorified shrub.”

You wandered a little further ahead, scanning the trees until your eyes landed on one that seemed perfect. It was tall and full, its dark green needles catching the faint sunlight peeking through the clouds. You pointed at it with excitement. “What about that one?”

Tyler followed your gaze and tilted his head, his lips twisting as he studied it. “Hmm.”

“‘Hmm?’” you echoed, crossing your arms.

“It’s a little…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Lopsided. Look at that lean.”

You squinted at the tree, trying to see what he saw. Sure, it wasn’t perfectly symmetrical, but there was something charming about its imperfection.

“It gives it character,” you argued, planting your hands on your hips.

“Character, huh?” Tyler smirked, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Alright, sweetheart. But don’t say I didn’t warn ya when that ‘character’ makes it fall over in the living room.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. This was exactly what you’d imagined when you thought about this day—playful bickering, shared smiles, and the simple joy of doing something together.

Tyler tilted his head, studying the tree with that same skeptical expression. You could tell he wasn’t sold, but you didn’t care. There was something about this one—it wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at it, already picturing it in the corner of your living room, lit up with strings of warm white lights and covered in ornaments you’d carefully unpacked together.

When you glanced back at Tyler, he was already watching you. His green eyes softened as he took in the look on your face, the way you were gazing at the tree like it was the only one on the entire farm. He let out a long-suffering sigh, one that was more for show than anything else, and shook his head with a small smile.

“This the one you really want?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his tone gentler.

You nodded eagerly. “This is the one.”

He held your gaze for a beat longer, his expression softening even more. “Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

Before you could even respond, Tyler squatted down by the base of the tree and pulled out the hand saw he’d brought along. He glanced back at you with a teasing smirk as he gripped the saw handle. 

“You better not make me do this every year, though. Gonna end up with sawdust in places sawdust shouldn’t be.”

You laughed, crossing your arms as you watched him start sawing through the trunk with practiced movements. “Oh, come on. You’re just showing off now.”

“Damn right,” he shot back, his voice a little strained from the effort. “Gotta prove I’m still worth keepin’ around.”

The sight of him—focused, rugged, and doing this for you—made your heart squeeze in your chest. He worked efficiently, the blade gliding back and forth through the trunk as tiny flecks of wood started to fall onto the frosty ground. After a few minutes, there was a satisfying crack, and the tree shifted slightly.

Tyler straightened up, brushing sawdust off his jeans before turning to you with a grin. “Alright, darlin’. Now comes the fun part—haulin’ this thing back to the truck without pokin’ an eye out.”

As Tyler dusted off his hands, you moved to grab the tree, wanting to help. Before you could get a proper grip, he reached out, stopping you with a firm hand on your wrist.

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk. “I’m not lettin’ you carry this thing. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Tyler, it’s not that heavy,” you argued, but he was already crouching down, grabbing hold of the trunk with one hand and lifting it with surprising ease.

“You just stay right there and admire the view,” he teased, glancing over his shoulder at you with a wink before he began dragging the tree toward the front of the farm. The tree scraped along the ground, leaving a trail in the thin layer of frost, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the branches caught on a few tufts of grass.

A little ways ahead, you spotted a wooden wagon parked near the rows of trees—a small, rustic cart clearly meant to help customers haul their finds. 

You pointed to it, your eyes lighting up. “Look, there’s a wagon we can use!”

Tyler stopped in his tracks, turning to glance at the cart before shooting you a look that was equal parts amused and stubborn. “A wagon? Darlin’, I don’t need a wagon. I’ve got this.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you watched him reposition his grip on the tree like he was about to hoist it up. Before he could, you were already walking off toward the cart.

“Where’re you goin’?” he called after you, the exasperation in his voice tinged with humor.

“Getting the wagon,” you called back without turning around.

When you returned, rolling the cart behind you with a triumphant smile, Tyler sighed, shaking his head like you’d just gone and complicated things for no reason. 

“I told you I could carry it,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, grinning as you gestured toward the wagon. “But why carry it when you can make your life easier?”

He muttered something under his breath—something about being perfectly capable—but he bent down and lifted the tree anyway, settling it into the wagon with a huff. You gave him a pleased smile, your hands on your hips like you’d just solved the world’s biggest problem.

Tyler shook his head again, a small grin tugging at his lips as he grabbed the wagon handle. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he teased, his tone warm and playful.

“Lucky?” you echoed, falling into step beside him. “I just saved you from throwing your back out.”

“Darlin’, I think I’ve got a few good years left before that happens.” He shot you a sidelong glance as he started pulling the wagon, his free hand reaching for yours. The roughness of his palm was a stark contrast to the cool metal of the wagon handle in his other hand, and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand as your fingers laced together.

The two of you walked hand in hand toward the gate, the tree wobbling slightly in the wagon behind you. The crisp air smelled faintly of pine and woodsmoke, and the sound of distant laughter from other families echoed through the farm. It felt perfect.

The two of you reached the payment booth near the front of the farm, where a cheerful older man in a Santa hat rang you up. Tyler handed over the cash, adding a quick “Merry Christmas” as the man nodded and tipped his hat.

Tree secured for the season, you made your way back to Tyler’s truck, the wagon wheels crunching softly over the frosted ground. The cold seemed sharper now, nipping at your face and hands, and you pulled your coat tighter as you walked.

Tyler parked the wagon near the tailgate and looked over at you, tilting his head toward the cab of the truck. “Alright, darlin’, hop in and start warmin’ up. I’ll handle the rest.”

You shook your head with a determined smile. “I’m not letting you do this alone. It’s our tree, after all.”

Tyler huffed, planting his hands on his hips as he gave you a pointed look. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” But he didn’t argue further, instead moving to lift the tree out of the wagon.

As he hefted the trunk up toward the bed of the truck, the tree wobbled slightly, its uneven weight threatening to throw off his balance. 

“Lopsided thing,” he muttered under his breath, as if to prove his earlier point.

You quickly stepped in, grabbing the top of the tree to steady it. “I’ve got it!” you said, keeping the branches from tilting too far.

Tyler glanced back at you, a flicker of exasperation in his eyes. “I had it,” he drawled, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” you replied cheekily. “And now we’ve both got it.”

Together, you guided the tree into the truck bed, the branches brushing against the sides before settling into place. Tyler stepped back to inspect it, nodding to himself before turning to the backseat of the truck and grabbing a length of rope.

As he began tying down one end of the tree, he glanced over his shoulder. “Now will you get in the truck and warm up, sweetheart?”

You ignored him, instead grabbing the other end of the rope. “I’ll help you tie it down. Two sets of hands are faster than one.”

Tyler let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he worked on securing the trunk. “You’re about the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you quipped, looping the rope around the branches with practiced ease.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin, pulling his end taut before tying it off with a secure knot. “But don’t think I didn’t see you shiverin’ just now. Soon as this is done, you’re gettin’ in that truck, no arguments..”

“Deal,” you replied, stepping back to admire your work as Tyler gave the ropes one final tug.

With the tree finally secured, Tyler tossed the remaining rope into the truck bed and turned to you, brushing a stray pine needle from your coat. “There. Now, let’s get you warmed up before you turn into an icicle.”

He reached for your hand again, his calloused fingers warm against your cold ones, and led you to the passenger side of the truck. As you climbed in, the cab was already beginning to fill with heat, and the faint smell of pine lingered in the air.

The drive back to the farmhouse was quiet and peaceful, the radio softly playing Christmas tunes as you rested your head against the window. The familiar gravel crunch of Tyler’s driveway made you smile. Moving into his farmhouse had felt so natural—like the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the world, just far enough from town to feel like your own private retreat.

As Tyler parked the truck, he hopped out with his usual energy, leaving you to grab your coat and follow. By the time you rounded the back of the truck, he had already unhooked the ropes and was hauling the tree out of the bed with a grunt.

“You good?” you asked, stifling a laugh as he adjusted his grip.

“’Course I’m good,” he replied, shifting the weight of the tree onto one shoulder like it was nothing. “This ain’t my first rodeo, darlin’.”

You trailed after him, arms crossed, as he approached the front porch. The air smelled like fresh pine now from the tree and the crisp bite of winter, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of decorating the tree together later.

That excitement only grew as Tyler maneuvered the tree toward the door—until he reached the threshold and froze.

“Uh…” he muttered, tilting his head as he eyed the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, a knowing smirk creeping onto your face.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, attempting to angle the tree to fit through the frame. The branches scraped against the sides of the door, and needles started raining down in a messy trail.

“You sure about that?” you teased, leaning against the porch railing.

Tyler grunted, twisting the trunk this way and that. “Just…gotta…angle it…a little more…”

The tree, stubborn as ever, refused to cooperate. Instead, it wedged itself firmly in the doorway, the bottom half stuck outside while the top half was inside.

“Well,” you said, your voice laced with amusement, “this is going great.”

“Don’t start,” Tyler muttered under his breath, taking a step back to assess the situation. His hands planted on his hips, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Need some help?” you offered sweetly, already knowing what his answer would be.

“Nope. I’ve got it,” he insisted, stepping forward to try again. This time, he gave the tree a solid shove, which only made it stick tighter.

Needles flew everywhere, a few landing in his hair and on his jacket. You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing.

He turned to you, his exasperated expression tinged with reluctant humor. “Glad you’re enjoyin’ yourself over there.”

“Immensely,” you replied with a grin.

Finally, Tyler threw his hands up in defeat and looked at you. “Alright, fine. I could use an extra set of hands. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” you said, stepping forward. As you grabbed the top of the tree to help guide it, you couldn’t resist adding, “I thought you didn’t need my help?”

He shot you a look but didn’t respond, instead focusing on angling the tree just right. Together, the two of you managed to wiggle it free, and with one last push, it finally made it through the doorway.

Once inside, Tyler carried the tree to the living room, pausing in the center. “Alright, darlin’. Where do you want it?”

You pointed to a cozy corner by the front window, already imagining how the lights would glow against the glass at night. “Over there.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it’d look better on this side?” He gestured to the opposite corner.

You narrowed your eyes at him, and he held your gaze for a long moment before sighing. “Yeah, alright. Your spot it is.”

“You’re learning,” you teased, patting his arm as he set the tree down in your chosen spot.

With the tree finally in place, Tyler brushed his hands off on his jeans and gave you a lopsided grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute, sweetheart.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you quipped, stepping back to admire the tree in its new home.

With the tree finally in place, you stepped back, hands on your hips, and admired it—or at least tried to. Something about the spot you had chosen didn’t sit right anymore. It didn’t look as magical as you’d imagined. You tilted your head, your eyes drifting toward the corner Tyler had suggested earlier.

You stood there, picturing the tree nestled in that spot instead. The idea started to grow on you. The light from the front window would catch the ornaments perfectly, and it wouldn’t feel so cramped against the wall.

“Alright,” Tyler said, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Tree’s up, and it’s right where you wanted it. You happy now, sweetheart?”

You didn’t answer right away, still staring at the other corner with a pensive expression.

“Uh-oh,” Tyler muttered, catching the look on your face. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, then glanced at him sheepishly. “I don’t like it here.”

Tyler blinked at you, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling. “I think…it would look better over there.” You pointed to the corner he had suggested earlier, the one you’d dismissed outright.

Tyler tilted his head back and let out a dramatic groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “You mean the spot I told you it should go in from the start?”

“Well,” you said with a shrug, trying to suppress a laugh, “you might’ve had a point.”

He stared at you for a long moment, then shook his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “unbelievable.”

“Tyler,” you said sweetly, clasping your hands together, “please?”

“Darlin’, you’re lucky I like you,” he said, shooting you a playful glare before walking over to the tree. “You’re gonna owe me for this one.”

“Oh, definitely,” you teased, watching as he bent down to grip the trunk.

With a huff, he hoisted the tree off the ground and carried it across the room, muttering something about “indecisive women” as needles scattered everywhere again. You couldn’t help but grin, enjoying the show.

Once he’d set the tree down in its new spot, he straightened up and planted his hands on his hips, looking at you expectantly. “There. Happy now?”

You took a step back, tilting your head as you studied it. The glow from the window hit the branches just right, and you smiled. “Perfect.”

“Perfect, huh?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Glad we could get it right on the second try.”

“Third time’s the charm if you count the doorway,” you quipped, earning yourself a look.

Tyler stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against him. “If you change your mind again, I’m puttin’ it outside,” he warned, but the smirk on his face told you he was kidding.

You grinned, leaning into him. “Don’t worry, it’s staying right there.”

“For your sake, I hope so,” he said, dropping a quick kiss to the top of your head before glancing down at the floor. “Now, how about you grab the broom while I start cleaning up this forest you had me drag inside?”

The chaos of getting the tree inside was finally behind you, and the living room had settled into a warm, quiet calm. The scent of pine filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of cinnamon from the candle you’d lit on the coffee table. You fiddled with the Bluetooth speaker, scrolling through your playlist until the opening notes of a soft Christmas song floated through the room.

“Alright,” you said with a grin, turning to Tyler, “time to make this tree look like it belongs in one of those Christmas magazines.”

Tyler chuckled from where he stood by the boxes of ornaments. “As long as it doesn’t involve more rearranging, I’m game.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you grabbed the string of lights and began weaving them around the tree. Tyler joined you, holding up branches and handing you more lights as needed. Every now and then, his fingers brushed against yours, and you felt his warmth even through the chill lingering on your hands from being outside.

Once the lights were set, you pulled out the tinsel. The silver strands glinted in the soft glow of the bulbs, and you began to toss handfuls of it onto the branches. Tyler, ever the perfectionist, stepped in behind you, adjusting a few pieces and earning a playful glare from you.

“Hey, it’s supposed to look natural,” you teased, tossing a strand in his direction.

“Yeah? Pretty sure ‘natural’ doesn’t mean ‘thrown like confetti,’” he quipped back, laughing when you stuck your tongue out at him.

Then came the ornaments. You opened the first box, pulling out a mix of baubles, snowflakes, and sentimental pieces collected over the years. You cradled a delicate glass ornament shaped like a snowman, humming along to the music as you walked around the tree, searching for the perfect branch.

“Hmm,” you murmured to yourself, holding the ornament up and tilting your head. “Too low. Too high. Maybe…”

You trailed off, still lost in thought as you tested a few spots. The sound of Tyler’s soft laugh caught your attention, and you turned to see him leaning against the arm of the couch, watching you with a lovestruck smile.

“What?” you asked, your voice light with curiosity as you clutched the snowman ornament to your chest.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Just… you’re cute when you’re trying to decide something.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you smiled, trying to play it cool. “You’re just saying that.”

He pushed off the couch and walked over to you, taking the ornament gently from your hand. “I’m saying it because it’s true,” he said, his voice soft as he reached up and placed the snowman on a branch that was, admittedly, a perfect spot.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, admiring the tree. The glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, and the soft music wrapped around you like a blanket.

“You gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna help me finish this tree?” you teased, breaking the quiet moment.

Tyler chuckled, pulling another ornament from the box. “Well, if I’m not mistaken, someone here’s already got the whole magazine-worthy vision in their head. So I’m just following orders, sweetheart.”

You grinned, grabbing another ornament as you started swaying to the music. Without even thinking, you began humming along, your movements light and carefree. Tyler glanced over, his smirk softening into that same adoring smile as he watched you.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start dancing now,” he said, his tone teasing but warm.

“Why not?” you shot back, twirling once before holding up another ornament. “It’s Christmas, Tyler. You’ve got to feel the spirit!”

He shook his head, a chuckle rumbling from his chest as he reached for another ornament. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a playful wink as you placed a bright red bauble on the tree. “But you love it.”

“That I do,” he murmured under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear, making your heart flutter as the two of you continued decorating your first Christmas tree together.

The room was warm, filled with the soft glow of the Christmas lights, and the tree—finally perfect—stood proudly in the corner of the living room. Its needles shimmered in the light, the tinsel sparkling and the ornaments dancing slightly with the hum of the air. You took a step back, your eyes gliding over the branches, taking in every detail with a content smile on your face.

Tyler, standing beside you, couldn’t help but mirror your expression. He gave the tree a satisfied glance before turning his attention to you, his lips curling into that quiet, affectionate smile he reserved for moments like this.

“It turned out good, didn’t it?” you murmured, still looking at the tree, but feeling his gaze on you now.

“Perfect,” Tyler agreed softly, his voice low and warm as he stepped closer to you. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You leaned into him, your head resting against his solid frame as he kissed your cheek tenderly, a soft brush of his lips that made you feel safe and cherished.

He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, Tyler rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as you both stood there, quietly admiring the work you’d done together.

There was a peacefulness in the moment, one that felt like it stretched on forever, the world outside slowing to a halt. Just the two of you, wrapped in the intimacy of this new beginning—the first Christmas together, the first tree.

For a long beat, neither of you said anything. You didn’t need to.

“I can’t believe this is our first Christmas here,” you whispered, a quiet amazement in your voice.

Tyler chuckled softly. “Well, I’m not complainin’,” he said, his voice still carrying that warmth, the sincerity of someone who didn’t need anything more than this. “I’d say this is about as perfect as it gets.”

You turned your face slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, and there, in the gentle glow of the lights, you could see it—how much he truly meant it. How much he meant to you.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice thick with the weight of your feelings.

Tyler’s hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he rested his forehead against yours, your hearts beating in the same steady rhythm.

The tree sparkled behind you, the ornaments glimmering in the soft light. But in that moment, you knew nothing would ever be as perfect as this—Tyler’s arms around you, the love between you both, and the feeling of belonging you’d found in each other.

“Happy Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“Happy Christmas,” you echoed, your heart full as you let the moment carry you both into the quiet night.

[pastorfutureletthembe]

Because of my brain's fucked up chemistry, I bring you bilibili's most hilarious (sarcasm) ploy. This is one of my favorite official artwork. The palette is simple and our beloved characters seem to have fun!

🙂‍↔️ Don't be fooled.

I'll start with the obvious, as always: red stains and apple knives. The pictures are telling enough.

Then we have the number 8. Which, I have my theories on, but nothing significant enough to make a whole post about it yet.

Let's start with the 8 of hearts. If you look carefully, you'll notice there are exactly 8 chandelier arms. 8 strawberries are visible on each cake (one is missing two parts and the other one is partly behind a shadow who must be Li Tianchen). Lastly, but Im not entirely sure of myself here, you can probably count 8 wine glasses (they are rounder than others).

Crossed theory: the missing pieces of the cakes are exactly between IV and VI of a clock. V is hinted yet again 🤌✨ but there are two cakes... making cakes... Yep, you guessed it: one entire Curve, as described in Rick and Morty:

The curve basically walls off the infinite number of universes, in which INSERT IMPORTANT CANONICAL NODE happens, from the rest of the infinite multiverse. A model often used to explain is that the definition of the Central Finite Curve has no set parameters; it's just wholly random and infinite therefore can be represented as a repeating, immeasurable shape modeled with a circle. The Central Finite Curve would then present a finite collection of dimensions.

(Gosh, I do have a lot of meta planned for this show, kill me now // Edit: DONE)

STEPPING AWAY FROM THE LYING CAKE-

For archives purpose, I'll just point out that two Aces of Hearts probably means there are two of the same while there should be one. I don't know if this was a clue already or yet to be resolved. They're both near a candle, a glass and a bottle. It gives the whole table an odd symmetry. Like a mirror you cannot see the frames of. The 8 on cards are also symmetrical + the placement is repeated with both chandeliers. The symmetry of the table implies there is a fourth cake off-screen.

There is one mistake though, I don't know if it was made on purpose or not: none of the hearts are upside down. The 8 of hearts is wrong: there is supposed to be symmetry on the card itself!

Since we already got a tarot reading in the chibisodes, here we go: (a quick google research for this one)

"In divinatory tarot, it could be a mix between the Lovers and the World. Indeed, the ace of hearts relates to the World as it represents the triumph of the individual on the elements that surround him. It also relates to the Lovers thanks to its romantic attributes and consequences."

- latincards

THE DARKER SIDE OF THE ACE OF HEARTS MEANINGS: EXPLORING CONTRASTING While predominantly seen as a symbol of love and positivity, the Ace of Hearts can also have darker or more complex meanings. In some interpretations, it might signify heartbreak, emotional manipulation, or unrequited love. This aspect reminds us that the heart's journey is not always smooth and that love can sometimes lead to challenging or transformative experiences.

- thedopeart

(Sidenote: You should be aware that the LOVERS doesn't exclusively concern romantic aspects of life in our modern world, but life partners in the general sense, people deeply tied to you.)

As for the 8 of Hearts:

The Eight of Hearts is often associated with emotions, love, and relationships. It signifies deep connections, harmony, and positive energy in matters of the heart. When this card appears in a reading, it suggests that love and emotional fulfillment are on the horizon. This card is a symbol of balance and stability in relationships. It indicates that there is a strong foundation of trust and understanding between partners.

Hearts are a recurrent shape used in Qiao Ling's artworks but I'll make another post for shapes/characters related stuff.

For the record, Cheng Xiaoshi isn't drinking red wine on the Halloween poster. Doesn't know where this is going but I've done my share of meta for today 🙂‍↕️

>>> In conclusion,

RED is the real clue here. May it be to indicate the presence of Li Tianchen or VEIN. The same shade of red is all we see, as if a filter was used, and since Li Tianchen's eyes glow red, I guess it's related somehow (metaphorically speaking). The fact everything is the same color was also designed to trick us about the blood on the knife. The aces could be CXS and LG... or LG and Liu Xiao (he seems to be obsessed with him so why not.) In any case, I do see a paradox hidden in plain sight here.

The cards are there as a positive outlook: they are together in this, their friendship is what will thrive on the dark side of the clock! It encourages them to open themselves to others and trust their bond.

[nickeverdeen]

Christmas Tree | Korra x fem!reader

Pairings: Korra x reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: Finding a Christmas tree in Water Tribe is always a bit of a struggle and she’ll be damned if she won’t find the perfect tree for the two of you.

——————

Korra paced back and forth in the living room of your shared home in the Southern Water Tribe, glancing at the empty corner where the Christmas tree was supposed to stand. You, her girlfriend from the Fire Nation and self-proclaimed expert in festive decor, had been patiently trying to find the perfect tree. But in the Water Tribe, trees weren’t exactly plentiful, and Korra was starting to feel the pressure.

“This shouldn’t be this hard,” Korra muttered to Naga, who let out a low whine in sympathy from her spot near the door.

That night, after you’d gone to bed, Korra decided to take matters into her own hands. Grabbing her coat and quietly slipping out, she mounted Naga, determined to bring back a tree that would make you proud.

The journey was… longer than Korra anticipated. The forests near the Water Tribe were sparse, and finding a good tree proved to be a challenge. Naga trudged through the snow patiently, taking breaks to eat, drink and rest while Korra surveyed her options.

“Too small. Too lopsided. Too… dead-looking,” she muttered, inspecting tree after tree. She wished you were there—your sharp eye and endless enthusiasm would have made this whole ordeal easier.

Finally, as dawn began to creep over the horizon, Korra found a tree that she thought might be acceptable. It wasn’t perfect—one side was a little fuller than the other—but it was tall, lush, and green. With some careful bending and precision, she managed to bring it down without too much damage.

“Okay, Naga. Let’s get this home,” she said, tying the tree securely to her saddle.

By the time you woke up, Korra was in the living room, anxiously pacing again. The tree stood proudly in the corner, still bare but upright, and Korra was nervously chewing her lip as she stared at it.

When you walked in, rubbing sleep from your eyes, Korra’s head snapped up.

“Uh… morning,” she said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

You blinked at her, then at the tree. “Korra, did you…?”

She scratched the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “Yeah. I, uh, went out last night. Figured we needed a tree, and I didn’t want you to stress over it anymore.”

You walked up to the tree, inspecting it with a practiced eye. Korra braced herself, fully expecting you to find fault with her choice.

Instead, you turned to her with a bright smile. “It’s perfect, Korra.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? I mean, it’s a little uneven on one side, and—”

“Korra.” You stepped closer, taking her hands in yours. “It’s beautiful. And even if it wasn’t, but it is, you went out of your way to make this happen for us. That means more to me than anything else.”

Korra’s tense shoulders finally relaxed, and a slow grin spread across her face. “You really like it?”

“I love it.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her cold nose brushing against your cheek. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“You’re the one who rode through a snowstorm for a tree,” you teased, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

Korra chuckled. “Well, anything for you. But next time, I’m bringing you with me. I’m pretty sure I spent half the night looking for ‘perfectly symmetrical branches.’”

You laughed, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Deal. Now let’s decorate this masterpiece.”

Together, you and Korra spent the morning hanging lights, ornaments, and a star on top. By the time you were finished, the tree looked even more beautiful—and Korra couldn’t stop beaming every time you glanced at it.

[critter-of-habit]

have you done a tattoo tour before please? would love to see all your video game tatts!

oh sure! Only like, 2.2 of them are video games though heh

The biggest and best is TLOU Ellie's tattoo - I redrew the whole thing as the moth in the og design isn't symmetrical and was too big for my liking. I also added the Firefly's symbol.

Then there is (left) a Sunwing Heart symbol from Horizon Forbidden West, as I love my big birb friends, and (right) my own design with symbols that represent different characters significant to me. The 'arrow' tip is a HZD symbol for Aloy

Then non-game related, I have Ahsoka's fulcrum symbol, and a bee with honeycomb on my thigh (I just think they're neat). I also have an Eye of Horus on my hip but you don't need to see that lol.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Hello my friends. I’ve been having the worst writer's block of my life and I am so so sorry that it’s been so long. This fic has been in my drafts for forever so I decided to finish it up since my brain is all out of new ideas. That being said, I’ve always planned on this being a two-part story so I thought I would leave you all with part 1 for now while I try to get my shit together lol. As always, I hope you enjoy. And if you see any typos… no you didn’t. Also don’t worry I promise that part 2 will have hella smut ;)

Content Warnings: Angst / talk of sex (non graphic - happened in the past) / sadness / feelings of not being good enough / low self esteem / unrequited love (for now) / miscommunication

Word Count: 8k

My Taglist: Here

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

Maybe it's just the excitement of the last show. Maybe it’s nerves or just the tension and energy oozing from everyone as they all prepared for showtime. Maybe it's the fear. Maybe it's the joy of celebration, or maybe it’s the dread of things going wrong. And maybe, if you’re really honest with yourself, it’s the goodbye that stands menacingly on the horizon – like a sentry waiting to capture your heart in his iron first. Maybe it’s none of those things, or maybe it’s a combination of all of them. But it’s worse tonight – that need that you have for him. The one that seems like it’s become a constant storm cloud that hovers oppressively over your heart, no matter how hard you try to push it down. It’s still there – lingering and festering like a wound. You push the feeling away for what feels like the thousandth time. Tonight isn’t the night. 

Show nights are hectic, especially a night as important as this one; Dreams in Gold is drawing towards its inevitable ending, and everyone wants these last few shows to finish on a high note – preferably with as few hiccups as possible. There’s only a handful more after tonight – with just a small break for the boys in between, before the last leg kicks off. And your job is simple: make sure the boys look good while doing what they do best. 

Josh’s makeup is usually first, as he prefers to be ready to go a lot earlier than the rest of the band. A fact which, as he’s stated numerous times, is due in part to his nerves and anxiety before he takes the stage. His jumpsuits may be his armor, but his makeup is his war paint – equally as important (if not moreso) than his beautiful outfits. He’s jittery as he sits in his chair, leg bouncing and fingers drumming endlessly on his knee. 

“Josh,” you mutter as you swipe some gold glitter across his eyelids, “you’ve got to stop moving.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, voice soft as he tries to rest it for the night. “Just nervous.”

“I know.” You tell him, giving his knee an affectionate squeeze. “But you all are going to do great. You always do.” You pull out a tube of mascara and delicately swipe it through his lashes to complete his look. “What is it you always say? ‘Fuck fear’?” 

Josh gives you an airy chuckle and a lopsided grin. 

“Something like that.” 

“Well, try and follow some of your own advice, Oh Wise One.” 

He just rolls his eyes playful at you, but the tension eases from his shoulders a tiny bit. Small victories. 

There’s comfortable silence for a while as you methodically glue a few rhinestones to his cheek bones. 

“And when are you going to follow my advice?”

You quirk your brow at him quizzically, eyes staying focused on his rhinestones as you attempt to make them as symmetrical as possible. 

“When are you going to say ‘fuck fear’?” He straightens his posture slightly as you pull away from him, brows pinching together. “The phrase seems…” he waves his hand vaguely towards you. “...particularly apt for your current situation.”

You turn your back to him to place the rhinestone case on the counter. You know exactly what he’s getting at but you’re in no mood to discuss such matters with him. He caught onto you a long time ago – his remarkable ability to pick up on subtle nuances and feelings from everyone around him becoming the bane of your existence for the past few months. 

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to admit the truth to him. Once you admit it to yourself, of course.” 

“I’m not admitting anything to anyone, Joshua.” You still haven’t turned back to look at him, instead busying yourself with pulling out the items you need for Sam next. “I wish you would just let this go. It’s just a stupid. It’ll go away.” 

You both know that you’re lying. 

“I highly doubt that, love.” Josh says sweetly, rising from his chair to come and stand next to you. He places his hand on your shoulder and the coldness of his fingers seeps into your skin at the contact – yet the warmth of the gesture isn’t lost on you. 

“I know you.” He pauses, grinning a bit. “And trust me when I say I know him… given the whole twin thing, and all that. This isn’t just a passing feeling.”

“Maybe for me it isn’t.” You say, a slight bit of resentment bleeding out in your tone as you pull open a makeup drawer with more force than necessary. “But he’s just so…” You trail off, looking for the right word. 

“Aloof?” Josh supplies knowingly, hand dropping from your shoulder to rest at his side. 

You nod once at him, eyes dropping to stare at the bottles of foundation that line the counter in front of you. 

“That’s his own fear getting in the way. You know how he is: him and emotions don’t get along too well. They haven’t since we were kids. He prefers to lock them all up and throw away the key instead of allowing himself to be vulnerable.” 

“He doesn’t owe me anything – especially not vulnerability. We got drunk and fucked each other in a bar bathroom… hardly romantic or vulnerable to begin with.” You bite your lip, the unwanted and all-encompassing hurt from that night rearing its ugly head yet again. “And we both agreed that it was a mistake, and then we moved on. There isn’t anything else to it.” 

“Sunflower,” Josh says, the nickname falling from his lips in almost a whisper, “you and I – and him for that matter, know that neither of you have moved on.”  

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what there is to say. You want to believe him, you really do. You want to allow that shriveled up little seedling of hope in your chest to bloom. But you know better. You learned better. 

“You don’t believe me.” It’s not a question. He knows you don’t. 

“I wish I could. But he won’t give me anything to go on. One minute he’s there next to me and he’s flirting and being so sweet… and the next it’s like he’s a million miles away – barely even looking at me.” You sigh, and the weight of it all seems to press down on your shoulders as you slump forward, allowing yourself a moment of weakness with the kind man who stands in front of you. “I just wish he would talk to me. Why won’t he just talk to me?” 

You hate the tears that burn behind your eyes and you hate the ache that opens up like a chasm in your chest. You wish you could hate him, too. Lord knows you’ve tried. 

“Jake isn’t the best at words. But he’ll try. For you, I know he will.” He offers you a kind smile that soothes your aching heart a little bit. “Go to him. I promise he’ll talk if you’d just give him the opportunity to. He’s too afraid to approach you first.” 

You glance at your watch. 

“It’s getting close. I still need to do Sammy and Danny.”

Josh hears the unspoken dismissal and he inclines his head to you. 

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now. You know I’m only pestering you because I love you and want you to be happy.” 

“I love you too, Josh.” You giggle. “Why couldn’t I have just fallen for you instead of your brother? You’re so much easier to talk to.” You lament, giving him a self-deprecating smile. 

Josh’s eyes glitter with amusement and he grins at you, the apples of his cheeks growing pink with laughter. 

“Oh I wish, sweet Sunflower.” He bows his head, allowing the curls on his forehead to fall slightly. “But alas, my heart belongs to another, anyway. A losing battle it would have been.” He pitches his tone upwards, summoning his most theatrical voice. “My heart burns with undying love for someone else.” He says, raising his arms with an obnoxiously over-the-top flourish.“My soul has been intertwined with another. The call of the universe summoned us tog-”

“Okay, yeah I’m sure.” You interrupt him, shaking your head in laughter at his dramatics. “Give your undying love a kiss for me, would you? In case I leave before you all?” 

“Trying to steal him from me?” Josh asks, placing a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes widening in mock surprise for a moment before smiling at you warmly.“Of course I will. But you better not leave before saying goodbye. And that’s an order.”

You give him a salute. 

“Yes sir, your majesty.” 

And with that, he’s gone – curly head disappearing out the corridor and leaving you with a head swimming with too many thoughts to process. 

Your relationship with Jake has been special from the start. From the first moment that you’d met him, you’d been drawn to him – like a moth to a flame. He made you feel alive and excited and terrified all at once. Trading flirtations with him became second nature – you poking fun at his pension for dressing in all black (pointedly referring to him as emo despite how much he denies it), and he always made sure to laugh whenever your naturally clumsy nature caused you to trip or drop something. But there’s never any malice in your little exchanges – your words instead dripping with thinly veiled joy (and perhaps a bit of nerves) as the two of you interact with each other.  

Even your nickname comes from Jake. That first day that you had met him, you’d been wearing a dress with sunflowers on it. He’d complemented it – telling you the flowers brought out the color of your eyes. And so maybe you’d worn a pair of sunflower earrings the next time you saw him (though you’d never admit to him that you did it on purpose), and Jake had been quick to point them out before jokingly referring to you as Sunflower. And the name had stuck – a fact which you were infinitely glad of. 

Your flirting with Jake continued to escalate as the two of you got to know each other better and it didn’t take long for your crush on him to develop into something more. Jake had carved a space for himself within your heart and no one else could fill it like he could. And before long, those flirty conversations between the two of you snowballed into a drunken, passionate-filled night in a bar bathroom – fueled on by lowered inhibitions and post-show adrenaline. It was fast and hard, but you’d enjoyed yourself thoroughly and hope had unfurled itself in your chest like a flower in the sun. Though it quickly withered and died once the afterglow had died off and Jake had told you plainly that it was an alcohol-fueled mistake. 

He’d said sorry, and he looked like he really was. And you’d assured him that there were no hard feelings and that yes, it had in fact been a mistake. Though it was a mistake for different reasons than what he had thought. For him – at least you assumed, the mistake lies in that he allowed himself to become carried away, drunk and tense from a show. For you, though, the mistake is that you fell for him… and in the fact that you now knew what it was like to have him – only for him to be promptly ripped away from you again. Which only made his absence all the worse. 

And although you’d both promised to act like it never happened, things changed. He grew distant. Never cold, but the familiarity and ease that had once existed between the two of you had been shattered beyond repair. No more flirty conversations or silly exchanges between the two of you. Instead, awkwardness has taken up residence. Every now and then, that old joviality would slip back into your interactions with him but he quickly catches himself and reels it back in. It’s confusing and hurtful, and you often lose sleep over his constant swinging back and forth. Regret lays heavy in your mind when you think back to that night at the bar, wishing that you’d put a stop to things before it got so far. 

You’re snapped from your melodramatic thoughts by Sam boisterously crashing into the room, a goofy smile plastered over his face. 

“I’m ready to be bedazzled!” He exclaimed, planting his lanky form into the chair and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you, and the sadness of the moment prior is shoved from your mind as you fall into easy conversation with him. 

Danny follows soon after Sam, and in the bustle of getting everything ready, you almost forget about everything. Though the thoughts still remain, brewing in the back of your mind like a thunderstorm just waiting to be unleashed.  

The show is spectacular, as is to be expected from your boys. As nervous as they might be beforehand, they never fail to deliver a jaw-dropping performance. You’d watched from the sides, soaking up the energy of the last show and doing your best to not think about the months that you were about to spend without getting to see them at all. Though you all live in Nashville, there’s no reason for you to see any of them outside of work. And even though they’re technically your bosses, they have all quickly wormed their way into your heart, earning themselves the title of ‘friend’ above all else. 

The night is turning out to be magical and you’re struck with a sudden surge of courage as you stand there watching them perform– or more specifically, watching him perform. 

He’s truly in his element up there on stage, shredding on his guitar like there’s no tomorrow. You always enjoy getting to see this side of Jake, given how reserved he tends to be in his normal day-to-day life. In the time that you’ve known him, you’ve discovered that Jake is stoic and reserved around those he doesn’t know – content to sit in the corner and watch; but when he’s around people that he knows and trusts, his humor and kindness shine brighter than anyone else’s you’d ever met. You’d seen before how the fans often referred to Josh and Jake as the sun and moon, affectionately pointing out their subtle differences in personality despite being twins. But you had learned that Jake is by no means any less affectionate and joyful as Josh is, he’s just content to be a little quieter about it – making those times that he is loud all the more special. 

Once the show was over, the boys and some of the other crew were planning on going out to celebrate – apparently having booked a private room at a restaurant downtown in which everyone could make a little merry before officially saying goodbye. You hadn’t wanted to go, but Josh and Danny had given you their best puppy dog eyes, and you’d begrudgingly agreed to accompany them. 

Which is how you find yourself sitting at a table in the corner, brooding over your earlier conversation with Josh. With the tour being on break for now, you won’t be seeing any of them until it starts up again. And although you’re confident that Josh, Sam, and Danny will probably stay in contact with you here and there, (and maybe ask to get lunch every now and again) you know for a fact that the same can’t be said for Jake. If the past few months were anything to go by, you know that it’s going to be radio silence as soon as tonight is over. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he goes around the room, making conversation with seemingly everyone but you. It hurts, and maybe it’s the liquor that’s coursing through your veins or the months of hurt finally spilling over, but you decide that enough is enough. You’re tired of living on what ifs and maybes. You hear Josh’s voice in your head, clear as a bell: Fuck fear. 

With that thought in mind, you down the rest of your drink and stand up, determined to finally speak with Jake about what’s going on between the two of you. He’s across the room, talking with Danny’s drum kit tech. Jake looks effortlessly gorgeous, just as he always does.  

As you begin your trek across the room the nerves and adrenaline kick in. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and roll your shoulders back. 

He’s right there. All you have to do is ask him if you can speak with him for a moment. You know he’ll agree to – despite everything, Jake is still one of the kindest people you’ve ever met. He’d never intentionally upset you… or anyone for that matter. 

Josh had told you that Jake feels the same. Josh knows Jake better than anyone… and you trust Josh. And you trust Jake not to intentionally hurt you. He’s just afraid – just like you are. 

His back is to you. Easiest thing in the world to just… touch his arm to get his attention. 

Just as you reach your hand out to touch his shoulder, a girl who you’ve never seen before slides up next to him, comfortably easing her arm around his waist. Jake throws his arm over her shoulders and draws her in close and you watch in detached horror as he turns his head to face her and presses a kiss to her cheek. 

You draw back as if burned, spinning on your heel with the plan of getting the fuck out of here as fast as you can, hurt and embarrassment washing over you in waves – mingling with each other and making the perfect concoction for a panic attack. 

Frantically, your eyes scan the crowd in search of Josh: your one comfort throughout all of this, but you don’t see him. God, where the fuck is he? Of all the times-

“Sunflower?”

It’s Jake’s voice, and you turn to see him, Danny’s tech, and the girl looking at you in concern. 

“Are you alright?” Jake asks, dropping his arm from around the girl to turn around more fully. 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Your voice comes out breathless and a little frantic, doing a poor job of hiding your impending meltdown. 

“Are you sure? You look a little-” Jake starts.

“I was actually just about to leave. Sorry.” You interrupt him, unwilling to spend a moment longer watching someone else have what you want so badly.  

“Already?” Danny’s tech asks, and if you were in a better state of mind you’d probably feel guilty for not being able to remember his name. Instead, your mind is focused on the mounting panic rising in your chest, threatening to overtake you as you desperately try to keep your cool. 

“I’m a little tired.” You supply vaguely, eyes scanning the crowd again in search of Josh. Still no sign of him. 

“Well, I was hoping to introduce you to Lindsey.” Jake says, causing your eyes to cut back to him. He’s smiling, but you can’t decipher the odd look in his eyes. 

“Hi.” She says, giving you a kind smile. “It’s really nice to meet you.” 

She extends her hand for you to shake and your eyes briefly snap to Jake’s. He looks on edge, like he’s waiting for something. Your approval? You’re not sure. 

You shake the girl’s hand. 

“Hi. I’m Y/n.” 

Lindsey smiles. She’s pretty. Very pretty. She’s not wearing a lot of makeup, just a little bit of mascara and some blush. Her clothes aren’t overly flashy and her eyes seem soft and kind. She’s exactly the type of girl you can imagine Jake going for and the thought makes you want to throw up. But instead, like the adult you are, you plaster a smile on your face to match hers. 

“Jake’s told me a little bit about you. He says you’re a great makeup artist.” You know she’s saying that to be nice and to find some ground where you’re comfortable – obviously sensing that you’re on edge and trying to help in any way she can. But you just can’t do this. Not tonight. Not now. 

“I’m alright, I guess.” You shrug, and you can feel how forced your smile is but you persist. “It’s really nice to meet you but I really need to get going. Jake?” You turn to him, doing your best to ignore the tears that are beginning to brim in your eyes. “Have you seen Josh? I told him I wouldn’t leave without telling him and his partner goodbye.” 

He shakes his head no, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that can only be described as defensive and uncomfortable. 

“Sorry, I haven’t. I’ll keep an eye out for him, though.” 

“That’s alright. I’ll just shoot him a text later. Congrats on a successful night,” you say, nodding to the tech, Danny, and then to Jake before turning to Lindsey, “and it was really nice to meet you. I’m sorry I’ve gotta run.”

“That’s okay. I hope you have a good night.” She offers, eyes still watching you in concern. Somehow, her kindness makes this whole thing worse. 

You turn away from the group and, as if in a dream, you make your way to the exit of the bar. 

With no Josh in sight, you pull your phone from your pocket and call an Uber to take you back to the hotel where you’ll pack up your bags for the last time. This time tomorrow, you’ll be in your own bed away from all the madness. You wish the thought gave you more comfort. 

//////

Three weeks pass agonizingly slowly. After being on tour for so long, the sudden change in tempo to your normally fast paced life leaves you floating through your days as if in a dream. Where once it seemed as though you barely had time to even sit down and think, now you have too much time to do exactly that. There’s only so many good shows that you missed and there’s only so many useless outings to be had before you find yourself going stir crazy. Distraction-less, your thoughts swirl hopelessly around Jake and your bitter, self-hating disappointment. 

You think fondly about the first time you met. You think of your flirting and of the soft moments the two of you shared before it all went to hell. You even think of that damn bar bathroom; you think of the passion and the hope that had bloomed in you that night, and of the crushing disappointment and hurt that soon followed. And inevitably, your thoughts always seem to circle back to that last night, when you finally mustered up the courage to say something, only for the universe to seemingly throw it back in your face with a laugh and a middle finger. And the very worst part of it all had been Lindsey’s obvious kindness and concern towards you, despite having only just met. You hate that you can understand why he chose her. 

Those thoughts feel particularly loud tonight as you stare down at an invitation to a group dinner from Josh. He, along with Sam and Danny, had texted you here and there – little things about what was going on in their lives since you last had seen them. But this was the first time that you had been asked to go out with them. 

You’re torn. Torn between the desire to see all of your friends again and wanting to avoid having to see Jake (and even worse, Lindsey) if you didn’t absolutely have to. But, deciding to put your big girl pants on, you accepted, texting Josh a simple Sure :)  

He responded almost immediately, eagerly letting you know how excited he was to see you. 

And here you find yourself, nervously adjusting your top for the millionth time that night as you drive to the bar that Josh had told you about. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but to think about Jake as you had gotten dressed. You feel silly for still allowing yourself to be so hung up on him. You shake your head at yourself, almost in the hopes that the thoughts will slip from your mind at the action. Despite everything, you’re determined to have a good time tonight. 

You’ve never been to this bar before, nestled away just a few blocks from Broadway on the East side of Nashville. It’s a nice place, but not so fancy that it comes across as too uptight or uncomfortable. Walking through the doors, you see that there’s a bar off to the right, with a few larger tables scattered across the floor to your left, and some pool tables and a dart board tucked away in the back. It seems laid back and comfortable – just the kind of place the boys like to frequent. Sam and Danny are already at a table, excitedly beckoning you over. 

“Sunflower!” Danny calls, standing from his seat and opening his arms wide. 

You jog over to him, grinning from ear to ear as you allow him to engulf you in a hug. 

“I missed you.” He tells you sweetly, squeezing you a little tighter. 

“I missed you too, Dan. Especially your hugs.” 

“Quit hogging her!” Sam interrupts, gripping your wrists in his long fingers and pulling you from Danny and into himself. 

Giggling, you hug him too. 

“And I missed you.” You pull away from him, casting your eyes between the two of them. “I missed all of you guys. Speaking of… where’s tweedle dee and tweedle dum?” 

The three of you sit, Danny pulling your chair out for you like the gentleman that he is. 

“Josh is running late, as usual.” Sam supplies with an eye roll, “And I think Jake and Lindsey should be here soon. He said they were on their way a while ago.” 

It feels like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on you but you keep your expression smooth. Of course he would be bringing Lindsey tonight… Why wouldn’t he?

Unfortunately for you, they do arrive soon, and seeing Jake again feels like a punch in the gut. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans coupled with a white button up, and his signature necklace glitters against his chest. He looks stunning, and Lindsey’s beauty only stands out more in the beautiful sundress that she has on.

“There you two are!” Sammy says loudly, and Jake inclines his head. 

“Ladies,” he nods at you and Sam, “and Danny, good to see you.” 

Sam scowls as Jake and Danny share a laugh. 

“Y/n! It’s good to see you again.” Lindsey says with a smile, taking a seat in the chair directly to your right. You push back the annoyance, reminding yourself that it’s not her fault that Jake doesn’t feel the same towards you. 

The table descends into easy conversation, though you find yourself having a difficult time keeping up. You smile and nod at what you hope is the correct times, but your thoughts are a thousand miles away. All you can think about is that night in that damn bar bathroom, and how good it had felt in the moment. You think about that night more often than you’d ever care to admit, but the memory is soured anyway by what followed. You can still see Jake’s face, passive and expressionless, as he shattered your heart in two. 

And of course, you think of the last show, when you’d allowed Josh to convince you that Jake felt the same. God, you’ll never forget seeing him lean over to kiss Lindsey’s cheek, her arm wrapped around his waist just like yours had been that night at the bar. You wish, suddenly, that you’d ordered alcohol instead of water. 

“Right, Sunflower?” 

The question snaps you from your racing thoughts and you look up to see everyone at the table looking at you. Your cheeks flush as you wrack your brains to try and recall what they’d been talking about but you come up empty. You open your mouth to spew some bullshit excuse when you hear the door to the restaurant bust open obnoxiously. 

“The party has arrived!” Josh bellows, drawing the attention of just about everyone in the building, and – thankfully, the attention of everyone at your table. You slink down further in your seat, suddenly feeling like you’ve run a marathon. 

Josh and his partner take a seat to your left, and their presence instantly soothes you in a way you can hardly explain. 

“What the hell are you two always doing that makes you so late to everything?” Sam asks him, taking a sip of his drink and quirking his brow. 

“You don’t want to know, brother mine.” Josh says with a lewd grin, causing the entire table to erupt in groans of disgust. You laugh softly and Josh’s partner gives you a wink. 

Conversations pick up again amongst everyone, though you mostly only speak to Josh’s partner, the two of you scooting backwards in your chairs to speak around Josh – who’s leaning forward as he tells an animated story about something or other, hands flapping about wildly. 

“Does he ever run out of things to say?” You stage whisper at his partner, who guffaws loudly and assures you that no, Josh does not, in fact, ever run out of things to say. 

“You should see him when we go to the store!” He tells you, eyes twinkling with affection, “He talks to just about everyone in the fucking Publix. I have to drag him out – for my sake and for theirs.” 

“What does he even talk to them about?” You ask through a laugh. 

“I don’t know. He talks a lot but says very little, most of the time.” 

At that, Josh leans back into his chair and turns his head back and forth between the two of you, eyes narrowed and a mocking frown on his face. 

“Are you two talking about me?” 

“Never!” You tell him seriously, giving your best poker face. 

“Absolutely not. I love you just the way you are, babe.” His partner assures him, and you know that he’s not kidding in the slightest. They’re annoyingly perfect for each other. 

Josh looks on in suspicion as you and his partner lock eyes, both fighting to hold back your laughter and Josh raises an eyebrow at the two of you. You just shrug your shoulders and smile, while his partner smiles into his drink – the both of you completely unable to meet Josh’s eyes for fear of breaking out into giggles. 

“Sure. Whatever, Very convincing.” Josh mutters, shaking his head and fighting a smile of his own. “Anyways, tell us what you’ve been up to, Sunflower.” 

You feel warmth overtake your cheeks as everyone’s eyes turn to you and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole as Jake’s gaze finally lands on you as well. For the life of you, you can’t get a read on him – a fact that hurts you beyond measure. 

“Oh, not much, to be completely honest.” You tell them, shrugging your shoulders. “Not much to do around here when I’m not dealing with you guys’ craziness.” 

“Nothing?” Danny asks in disbelief, “No family or friends you’ve been hanging out with?”

“You guys are the only friends I have here in Nash.” You glance down at your lap. “Just been me, myself, and I.” 

Josh, in typical Josh fashion, changes the subject upon noticing your discomfort – and you promptly excuse yourself to the ladies’ room. Rising from your seat, you scamper quickly away from the table. 

You splash cold water on your face and smooth down a few fly-away hairs. Gazing in the mirror, you smile at yourself. Even you can see that it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

You jump as the door to the bathroom opens, eyes widening as you see Lindsey entering. You fight back a frown. She’s the last person you want to see. 

“Hey.” She says simply, coming to stand beside you in front of the mirror, 

“Hi.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” You tell her, and wince at the harshness of your tone. “Thank you for asking though.” You add, softer this time. 

“You and I both know that’s not true.” She says kindly, giving you a soft smile in the mirror. “I know we don’t really know each other, but… I’m here, if there’s something you want to talk about. I’m good at listening.” 

You sigh, heart warming just a little at her obvious kindness and sincerity. You don’t know whether it’s better or worse that she’s a good person – it would be easier to dislike her if she wasn’t. But it’s also easier to accept Jake choosing her over you knowing that she’s a genuine person. Deciding to go out on a limb, you choose your next words carefully – keeping them truthful, but vague. 

“Just guy trouble. It’s stupid, really. I don’t know why I’m letting it affect me like this.”

“A breakup?” 

“Not necessarily…” You scratch the back of your neck, nerves beginning to show themselves again. “We, um- we slept together. Once. And I really liked him. But he said it was a mistake and we haven’t really spoken since.”

“Did you,” she speaks slowly – delicately, even. “Did you know him well? Before?”

“Yeah. He was always so sweet. Flirty, but not obnoxiously so. I really thought something was there. Something… real.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, looking in the mirror to smooth her own hair down. “And you haven’t spoken to him since?”

“Not in a way that matters. Not about what happened.”

“Maybe you should try.” She says, tilting her head at you. “You never know unless you try.”

You duck your head, fighting the tears that begin to burn behind your eyes. 

“He’s with someone else now. And they seem to be happy. I don’t want to cause trouble where it’s not necessary. I just need to…” you trail off for a moment, staring at your reflection hopelessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” 

“You love him, then?”

Her question makes you freeze for a moment. Do you love him? You hadn’t really wanted to put a direct name to how you feel about Jake. But standing here, crying over him to the girl he chose over you, you figure you’ve hit rock bottom already anyway. 

“Yeah, I do.” Your admission comes out quiet – broken in such a way that you almost don’t even recognize it. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, her gaze dropping down onto the counter, staring at the little puddles of water. “I wish I could say something to help, but I know there’s nothing to say. It just fucking sucks, feeling like that.” 

You nod, sniffling a little and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“And you know what the worst part of it all is?” 

She just shakes her head, allowing you to continue. 

“The girl he’s with now… I get it. I totally get why he chose her.” You let out a watery laugh and you see Lindsey’s eyes fill with her own tears as she watches you fall apart. “I would have chosen her, too.” 

You blink and suddenly you’re being hugged. You’re stunned for just a moment before you hesitantly wrap your arms around her loosely. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” She says, pulling away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders, willing you to meet her gaze. “You’ll find the one. I know you will.” 

“Thank you.” You sniffle again and laugh quietly, “God, this is so embarrassing.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She says kindly, dropping her hands and smiling. “Sometimes you just need another girl to listen. I love the guys – and they’re more sensitive and understanding than most, but they don’t get stuff like this like we do.” 

You nod at her, taking a deep breath to gather yourself. 

“Ready to go back out?” 

“Yeah.” You say, and you follow behind her as the two of you make your way back out to the table. 

The rest of the night passes by in a blur. After your return from the bathroom, you don’t allow your thoughts to prevent you from enjoying time with your friends. They really are all you have and you’ve missed them terribly. You catch eyes with Lindsey every now and again, and she always gives you an encouraging smile as she watches you engage, and little sparks of affection and thankfulness for her warm your chest. It really isn’t her fault. 

After you’ve all eaten, and the alcohol begins to take more affect, Sam suddenly rises from his seat and slams his palms against the table (effectively causing all the plates to rattle obnoxiously)

“Daniel!” He says, pointing a finger at poor Danny who looks back at him with wide eyes. “I challenge you to a game of pool right this instant. I’m tired of sitting.”

Danny rolls his eyes playfully and stands, rubbing his palms on his jeans. 

“Don’t start something you know you can’t win.” Danny tells him with a grin. 

“40 bucks says I beat you.” 

The rest of you watch on in amusement as the two bicker all the way over to the pool tables. 

“Jake?” Josh asks, turning to his twin, “Wanna play?” 

“Fuck ya.” Jake responds, also rising from his place. “Ready to beat your ass.”

“In your dreams, Jakey.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jake says petulantly, brushing past Josh with a deliberate nudge against his shoulder. 

You, Josh’s partner, and Lindsey follow the boys over to the tables, laughing at their antics. Everyone is sporting a buzz now and you’re well on your way to getting your own little buzz. You figure you deserve it.

You watch on in amusement as the boys allow themselves to let loose – you love watching them like this. They’re like little kids, giggling and messing with each other as they play pool. 

“I haven’t seen them all together like this.” Lindsey tells you from her seat next to you. “They’re like…” 

“Children?” You supply, giggling softly. “They’re always like this. Even during a tour.” 

The both of you laugh loudly as Josh sinks a ball, exclaiming loudly in triumph before Jake interrupts his celebration to let him know that he hit one of Jake’s into the pocket and not his own. Josh lets out a particularly petulant “Fuck!” and Jake tosses his head back and laughs. 

You watch him, completely unable to pull your eyes away from him. He looks… transcendent like that, joy and laughter making his eyes crinkle at the corners in the way that always makes your heart melt. A pang shoots through your chest as memories of when he used to laugh with you like that enter your thoughts unbidden. You shake your head at yourself, tearing your gaze away from him to look at Lindsey – only to find her already looking at you. 

You can’t quite read her expression – but there’s puzzlement in her eyes. You look away, unwilling to answer (or even acknowledge) her silent question. 

Before long, the boys are far too drunk to be allowed out in public any longer, and Josh’s partner begins making the rounds to let them know that it’s time to go. He’s met with grumblings of disappointment but the boys don’t protest as you all begin to make your way outside. 

“Well, Sunflower,” Danny says, smiling widely with flushed cheeks as he looks at you, “I guess we won’t see you again until tour starts again.” He extends his strong arms, waiting to give you a goodbye hug. You fall into him, letting your eyes fall closed as he squeezes you. 

“You give the best hugs, Danny.” 

“So you keep telling me.” He grins, pulling away as Josh’s partner ducks in to hug you as well. 

“Me next!” Sam exclaims loudly, yanking you from his grip to pull you into his lanky arms. 

“Bye, Sammy.” You giggle. “Till next time.” 

You pull away to see Josh waiting patiently for his turn. 

“See you soon, Sunflower.” He says, pulling you flush against him. Just as you go to pull away, he pulls you in tighter and leans in close. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. You blink away the tears that want to fall at his words.

Lastly, Jake stands, hands awkwardly in his pockets as he waits. You’re not sure what to do until he opens his arms for you. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in his scent as it envelopes you. 

He leans in close – so close that his lips are almost touching your ear. 

“See you later, Sunflower.” 

“Bye, Jake.” You say quietly. 

He squeezes you tighter, letting the embrace last for just a moment too long. 

Pulling away, you catch Lindsey’s eyes, and for the first time tonight, she doesn’t return the smile that you give her. 

You trudge your way back to your car, suddenly wishing that you hadn’t gone tonight. And even more, you wish – desperately, that you didn’t have to see him again at all.  

Climbing into your car, you allow yourself to put on your sad song playlist and wallow in your misery the entire way home, before collapsing heavily into your bed – the call of sleep pulling you under. 

///////

Jake K        1:02 AM

I think we should talk

The text is the very last thing you want to wake up to – especially with the pounding in your head and the feeling of nausea that threatens to overtake you. You hadn’t had much to drink the night before but you have a feeling that it’s not the alcohol making you feel this way. You stare at it for a long while, thoughts racing through your fuzzy brain as you try and figure out how to respond. 

You knew you shouldn’t have been honest with Lindsey – no matter how kind she is. Of course she would have caught on after seeing your inability to fix your face when you watch Jake and of course she would tell him what had happened in the bathroom. 

And now he’s probably upset with you. Maybe he’s angry that you’ve kept your feelings from him and fucked him in a bar bathroom like it didn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s going to fire you. Maybe Lindsey wants him to fire you. Your mind races with every worst possible scenario as you shakily type out your response. 

You 10:17 AM 

Is everything okay? 

The speed with which he answers tells you everything that you need to know.

Jake K 10:19 AM 

Can you call? 

You 10:19 AM

Yes. Whenever you get a chance.

Not a second later, his name lights up across your screen with an incoming call. Heart pounding, you can only stare at it. You haven’t had time to think. To plan out how you’re supposed to just act like everything is okay. With a heavy sigh, you accept that it’s too late for that and you swipe to accept the call. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, Y/n.” 

Your actual name… hardly a good sign but you will the nerves and fear from your voice the best you can. 

“Is everything okay?”

A heavy, pregnant pause. Then finally, 

“Lindsey and I talked last night. She um. She knows. About- About us.”

 You close your eyes tight, heart hammering.

“Fuck.” The word escapes you with a sigh, tears already beginning to burn in the back of your throat. “I swear I didn’t tell her, Jake. I swear it. I just-”

“I know.” He interrupts. “She explained. I um.”

You can hear him swallow and you can picture what he must look like on the other end – eyebrows pinched, maybe playing with the chain of his necklace like he does when he’s nervous or stressed. You shake your head as if it’ll clear the image from your mind. 

“Jake, I’m sorry.” 

He sighs – heavy and defeated. 

“Don’t apologize. I- I’m sorry that I hurt you like that. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t.”

Silence again, both of you just listening to the others breathing. 

“I think it might be best if- if maybe you all find someone else for makeup.”

“No.” He starts, the word louder than any of the others that he’s spoken before. “You can't just walk away. You can't leave. ”

“But I think it would be best if I did.”

This time, you can practically hear him trying to come up with something to say in the silence. But you know there isn’t really much else to say.

“You’re our friend.” He finally says, voice just barely above a whisper. 

That makes you pause as you think of the others – of Josh and his soft, reassuring smiles. Of his partner and the inside jokes the two of you share. Of Sammy and his ridiculous jokes and of Danny’s hugs. You think of all the other tech people – the ones who had taken you in and treated you like family from the very start. All the people that you’re willingly walking away from... and most of them will never even know why.

It kills you. The ache in your chest is a real, breathing thing as the reality of it all sets in. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Y/n, don’t-”

You end the call. 

End of Part I

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

@jakeyt

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@sacredtheslay

[manwrre]

It’s bordering on two weeks since Hargrove’s arrival at Hawkins High, when Steve realizes he’s crushing on the guy. Like—‘doodling hearts in the margins of his books and racking up a list of things he likes about him’ type crushing.

They’ve barely interacted after that night at the party. Outside of social gatherings, they just run in different circles; Steve, filling his time with Robin and occasionally third-wheeling Nancy and Jonathan, while Billy hangs out with the more popular crowd.

Their schedules also don’t overlap despite the blonde taking a number of senior-level classes, with the exception of gym and lunch.

The list though, is still so painstakingly long. Ego-stroking-ly lengthy. Embarrassingly indulgent, all on his behalf.

Steve would much rather nosedive into the quarry, than divulge too deeply into it with anyone.

Especially around or to the guy’s actual face, at the risk of Billy’s head becoming too big for his body (even though Steve thinks he’d make an adorable bobble head). Or you know, worse— like him, getting absolutely brained in front of everyone.

Which must say a lot about him as a person because apparently, this is his type. Beautiful, angry, conceited boys.

Regardless, there are some objective mentions on his list though.

Things that the general public would agree on, like Billy’s Michelle-Pfeiffer curls; loose and wavy but so, so golden.

His eyes are a close second, of course because Steve’s seen a lot of bright blues but Billy’s remind him of the vacation he’d spent in Aruba, as a kid. Remind him of a horizon-kissed vastness and warm water lapping at his ankles on a private beach.

The public also agrees that Billy’s got a banging body. He’s thicker than most because he actually gives a shit and ‘works out religiously’ but it’s not all muscle. His abdomen and thighs are firm but his pecs and ass have the right amount of give. A perfect amount of softness.

Steve would know because he’s had to will away many boners at the sight of them.

And Billy’s funny in a witty, sarcastic way. He grins toosharptooprettytoobright and dangerous. He’s smart too, like taking mostly AP classes smart and he’s smug about it all because he knows he’s hot shit. Of course, the bastard is self aware. Cocky. Steve likes him so much. Wants him so bad that it’s dizzying, sickening.

So yeah, there’s stuff that everyone can agree on but then….then, there’s whatever this is.

This being the two penny-sized indents at the base of Billy’s spine. Symmetrical and just defined enough for average eye to discern.

When Steve sees them for the first time though, he promptly drops the basketball in his hands. In front of everyone. During fucking gym class. Purely out of shock.

He catches himself within the same breath and quickly looks away.

Swallows.

Ignores the pointed look that Patrick sends him for flaking out, mid-pass, like some kind of freak and looks around cooly.

Because Billy Hargrove has dimples of venus.

Affectionately dubbed a sign of beauty by Michelangelo. Famed after the Greek goddess’ simulacrum. Called dimples of Apollo on men, which suits Billy all the more, in Steve’s opinion.

The sun child.

Flushed with life. Deserving of avid worshippers. A being deserving of wax poetic. Glittering, dazzling, vibrant and the Camaro, his chariot.

And he knows this because dimples are like, his freckles. His glasses. His braces. They’re a niche, little thing that he finds just devastating. Achingly cute. Nancy has a pair of them near her laugh lines that he would kiss everyday and prod at, endeared.

So he ambles on through practise a little out of breath and red in the face with his newfound knowledge.

Watches Billy jog over to the locker room with everyone else at the end; skin slick and sweat pooling at the divots of his waistband. Tempting.

He stands back and feigns trying to catch his breath, his hands on his knees. Eyes the younger boy’s retreating form from up through his hair. Imagines hooking his thumbs into the depressions of his flesh.

Relishes in the thought of splaying his hands across the width of his waist.

Feels his mouth go dry and a rush of white heat surging south.

Licks his lips absentmindedly as his cock aches to life and makes the decision to skip the locker room schtick, save anyone realizing he’s sporting a half chub.

Instead, he grabs his backpack and heads out to his car. The parking lot is mostly empty by the time he gets there and devoid of anyone interested in him enough to wave him over. He tosses his stuff into the backseat of the Beemer and speeds off before anyone can catch up to him.

It’s a short drive to his house but he spends it envisioning Billy in all sorts of compromising positions. Thinks about the flush on his skin when he plays and the heat in his eyes— wonders how easily he gives in; loud-mouth turned soft and pliant at the faintest hint of pleasure.

He barely makes it inside before shucking his bag off and stripping himself bare of sweat-sticky clothes. In the same breath, he’s fisting a too damp hand around his cock and hissing at the near painful throb. His only relief comes from the coldness of the door against his back as he slumps against it.

Precum beads at the flushed head and he gathers it all on the upstroke to ease the glide. Squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that honeyed galaxies explode behind the lids and he can’t think.

Can’t think about the consequences of jerking off to someone he sees damn near everyday. Doesn’t care enough to avoid the impending embarrassment.

Why would he? Instead, he thinks of Billy laid out beneath him, all pretty and flushed and glittering; his eyes wet with unshed tears and ruddy lower lip between his teeth as he looks over his shoulder at him. Imagines the roughness of his voice and his muscles all pulled taut as Steve knocks the air out of his lungs with each slam of his cock.

He fucks into the tight ‘o’ of his hand, already so goddamn close and conjures up the image of twin dips. Wants to paint pearlescent white across the bronze expanse of Billy’s back; let it pool where he is favored by the Gods.

The thought has him biting back a moan as he grinds into the slickness of his hold. The heat in his gut expands so greatly, so suddenly, that his hips flex with the intensity of it. Until finally,

it snaps.

Like a star beneath the pressures of gravity; with all the strength and ferocity of a supernova. And he’s spilling all over his hand in a few stiff, jerky thrusts and breathing out a low, garbled “Fuck, Billy— shitshitshit.”

And God, he’s so screwed.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

I had this silly fantasy idea, I hope you like it! ❤

Whispers of the forest

The village of Eldewood was dying. That was the only truth that seemed to matter anymore. People were falling ill with sickness, no herb, no potion, no prayer could cure. The air seemed thick with the weight of it all, and every passing day, more faces disappeared behind drawn curtains, never to be seen again.

I was the last healer left in Eldewood. The others had succumbed to the illness or had been too old to fight it. I couldn’t sit idly by. So, despite the fears, despite the stories passed down from our ancestors, I ventured into the one place where hope lingered—beyond the edge of the village, into the heart of the forest.

The elders had warned me many times, their voices filled with dread, their eyes wide with fear. “The forest is no place for humans,” they would say, as if the very trees were watching, waiting for a trespasser to make the fatal mistake of stepping into its depths.

But I was desperate. My people were dying, and the forest was rumored to house a rare herb, a healing plant that could stop the plague in its tracks. The legends spoke of it, a cure found only where the magic of the world was still alive, hidden deep among the ancient trees.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when I set out. My satchel was filled with healing supplies, and my heart was heavy with the weight of my mission. The forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but I couldn’t afford to hesitate.

Hours passed as I walked through the dense woods, the scent of earth and moss filling the air. The deeper I went, the quieter the forest became. It was as if the trees themselves were closing in, watching my every move. Despite the unsettling feeling in my gut, I pressed on.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to find in the forest. It was said to be full of strange creatures, half-human, half-beast, ancient beings bound to the magic of the world. But I hadn’t come for any creature—just the herb. That was my sole focus.

By midday, I still hadn’t found what I was looking for. My body ached from the journey, and the sun above had shifted from a pale glow to a harsh, burning heat. I needed to stop and rest.

That’s when I heard it.

A groan. A faint, pained sound coming from deeper in the forest.

My heart skipped a beat. I froze, straining my ears to listen. There was no one else here, at least, no one I had seen.

I followed the sound, each step more cautious than the last. The air was colder now, and the trees seemed to part just enough to allow me through. The groan became clearer, more distinct.

I rounded a bend, and then I saw him.

A man, lying on the forest floor, unconscious and bleeding. His clothes were torn, and an arrow was lodged in his side. He looked human, but there was something… off about him. His features were strikingly beautiful, almost too perfect, and his skin seemed to glow faintly, as though he wasn’t entirely of this world.

My instincts took over. I dropped to my knees beside him, panic rushing through me. The arrow was deep, and he was losing blood fast. I had to act quickly.

I reached for my satchel, my hands trembling as I pulled out a healing salve. I worked quickly, pressing it against his wound to slow the bleeding, my heart racing. I had seen injuries like this before, but something told me this man wasn’t just an ordinary traveler.

As I worked, I couldn’t help but notice the subtle differences about him. His ears—pointed, like an elf’s. His features, too symmetrical, too… inhuman. There was an air of otherness about him that I couldn’t ignore.

Despite his injury, his body was still, but his breathing was shallow. He wasn’t dead. Not yet. But if I didn’t do something soon…

I applied more salve, binding the wound as best as I could, my hands moving as if they knew what to do, even if my mind didn’t. But as I worked, I found myself caught in his gaze. His eyes, when they opened, were an unnatural shade of green. They gleamed like the light of the moon, sharp and piercing.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wasn’t sure if I wanted an answer or if I was just trying to make sense of what was happening.

The man’s lips parted, but all that came out was a raspy cough. His gaze remained locked on mine, as if he was studying me as much as I was studying him.

“I’m not… I’m not here to hurt you,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. “I’m a healer. I can help you.”

He didn’t answer. He seemed to be trying to push himself up, but the pain from the arrow was too much. I gently placed my hand on his chest, urging him to stay down.

“Please, you need to rest,” I said softly. “I’ve already stopped the bleeding, but you need time to heal.”

His gaze softened slightly, but his eyes never left me. They were intense—wild, almost—but there was something else there. Something that I couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t entirely human, I was sure of that now.

“I don’t need your help,” he finally rasped, his voice rough but determined. “You should leave. The forest isn’t a place for you.”

I frowned. “I’m not leaving you here. You’re hurt. If I don’t help you, you’ll die.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if struggling against the reality of his own vulnerability. When he opened them again, his gaze was piercing. “Then leave now, while you still can. The forest isn’t kind to those who don’t belong.”

The words unsettled me. His warning seemed like more than just a simple plea for me to go. But why? Why was he so adamant?

I hesitated, but only for a moment. I couldn’t just leave him to die in the woods, no matter how strange he was. “I can’t leave you. Not like this.”

He looked at me, a strange mix of resignation and something else flickering in his eyes. “Then, understand this,” he said, his voice soft but intense. “The forest will remember you. And it will demand its price.”

I didn’t understand what he meant by that. But the urgency in his tone made something inside me shiver.

I stayed with him until the sun dipped below the horizon, the darkness of the forest closing in around us. He slept, and I watched over him, unsure of what else to do. His words echoed in my mind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something far more dangerous than I realized lurked in the shadows.

By the time he stirred again, the forest had fallen completely silent. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but it was clear he was no longer on the brink of death. His wound was still there, but the bleeding had stopped.

“You’ll be fine,” I whispered, mostly to reassure myself.

His eyes opened, and this time, he didn’t fight the pain as he sat up. He still seemed weak, but his strength was returning.

“You should go,” he said again, his tone a little softer but still firm. “The forest does not belong to you. You shouldn’t come back here.”

The warning hung in the air between us, a heavy presence that I couldn’t ignore. But I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I didn’t understand what he meant, but somehow, I knew that this encounter—this strange, unsettling meeting—was only the beginning.

[artsandculture]

Lake George Reflection (1921–1922) 🎨 Georgia O'Keeffe 🏛️ Private Collection 📍 Somewhere

Painted circa 1921-22, Georgia O’Keeffe’s Lake George Reflection embodies the contradictions inherent in the artist’s best work which came to define her career and cement her legacy as one of the most enduring and intriguing figures in 20th-century American Art. Lake George Reflection, the most ambitious in scale of her works from the 1920s, is a meditation on the sublime, building upon the tradition of the 19th century Hudson River School artists who sought to capture the drama and beauty of the unspoiled landscape surrounding Lake George. Presented alternatively as both a vertical and horizontal composition, the work is an expression of the artist’s experimental thought process as she considered what it meant to be representational in an age of burgeoning abstraction in American Art. Horizontally, the painting exemplifies the boldly colorful landscapes which have become a hallmark of O’Keeffe’s career, foreshadowing the abstracted paintings of the New Mexico hills from her later years. When viewed vertically, as Lake George Reflection was first exhibited in 1923 at the Anderson Galleries, the infinite horizon shifts to a powerful vertical thrust, with the formerly symmetrical reflections of the landscape morphing into the interior folds of a magnified flower or echoing the bold and daring heights of a New York City skyscraper. This ambiguity of orientation results in a painting that is at once highly representational and wholly abstract, carefully constructed and malleable, and which defines the subtle power of O’Keeffe’s most dramatic and admired works. O’Keeffe signified the importance of certain works by including a hand-drawn star on the reverse or backing board; she noted this distinction on the verso of Lake George Reflection.

On June 10th, 1918, Georgia O’Keeffe moved to New York City. That August, she visited Lake George in the Hudson River Valley with Alfred Stieglitz, the influential photographer and art dealer twenty years her senior whom she would marry in 1924. On this first extended trip to the area, the Stieglitz family’s 36-acre retreat provided a welcome respite from the city, and one that afforded creative inspiration and freedom. “Stieglitz, like many urbanites then and now, also had a rural base, at Lake George in upstate New York, and every year he joined other members of the large family at his mother's home there. In August 1918, he was accompanied by O'Keeffe, who was warmly received by the mater familias and the sundry siblings, in-laws, and offspring of the Stieglitz tribe." (Georgia O'Keeffe, New York, 1991, p. 39) Over the next decade, O’Keeffe and Stieglitz frequently visited Lake George, spending most of every summer and early fall on the family compound, first at ‘Oaklawn’ and later at ‘The Hill.’ The landscape and its environs seemed to stimulate her creatively and she often referred to it as ‘perfect.’ The flora and fauna, and the relationship she developed with botanist Donald Davidson, a Stieglitz family cousin, provided veritable fertile ground for artistic discovery.

Just as Lake George exhilarated O’Keeffe, it also ushered in a period of creativity and artistic exploration for Stieglitz, allowing him to view the landscape through new eyes. “Although in earlier summers he had all but overlooked the landscape at his family’s home in Lake George, New York, he now began to photograph it, stimulated both by O’Keeffe’s infectious enthusiasm for the natural world and her own paintings of the area. Citing her ability to put ‘her experiences in paint,’ Stieglitz wrote that he too endeavored to ‘put his feelings into form’ in his photographs of the trees, barns, and buildings, as well as the landscape and clouds that surrounded him.” (B.B. Lynes, Georgia O’Keeffe, 2001, pp. 26-27) Whether sparked by lively competition or simply that O’Keeffe’s admiration of the landscape invigorated Stieglitz, both artists created some of their most bold, dynamic and experimental imagery during this time. Barbara Buhler Lynes notes, “Stieglitz’s investigation of equivalence began in the early 1920s at Lake George. O’Keeffe was involved with a parallel effort, working with color as Stieglitz had worked with light. Both his photograph and her painting suggest grand panoramas and infinite distances, while at the same time that vastness is overridden by patterns of flat, undulating shapes.” (Georgia O’Keeffe, 2001, p. 38)

In addition to the myriad of visual delights that the great view from the property afforded, it would not have been lost on O’Keeffe that she was on hallowed artistic ground. “As any visitor to Lake George, then or now, she would have been more aware of its role as a popular tourist destination reaching back to the early 1800s. In the wake of the French and Indian War (1754-63) and the American Revolution (1775-83), it captivated the hearts and minds of Americans, who were increasingly nostalgic about their history. The 1826 publication of James Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans sealed Lake George’s fate as an American icon.” (Modern Nature: Georgia O’Keeffe and Lake George, p. 23). Many 19th century predecessors captured the autumnal foliage, verdant hills and crystalline lakes, putting forth a vision of the landscape as untouched and unspoiled. These Hudson River School depictions, often dramatized with sunrises and sunsets, emphasized the sublime in nature, a concept that would have no doubt interested O’Keeffe. “Over the past two centuries, the concept of the sublime—with its immediate sensation of awe inspiring infinite space and evocative color and light directly internalized to moments experienced in our own lives—has been substantially redefined by a small number of artists, writers, and critics, for whom it has become a vital source of spiritual values at times of increased secularism.” (Georgia O’Keeffe: Visions of the Sublime, 2004, London, p. vii)

Seen as a landscape, Lake George Reflection is a meditation on the awesomeness of the open countryside of upstate New York found only a short distance from the hectic metropolis. Incorporating the groundbreaking experimentations from her early career, the rolling hills and water are depicted in the undulating forms so prevalent in O’Keeffe’s early abstractions of the previous decade. Similarly, the bulbous forms that line the foreground recall her abstract ‘Special’ series, also executed at Lake George a few years earlier. Taking these elements one step further, all is reflected, creating a virtual mirror image bifurcated by a dramatic horizontal cross-section. With its monumental scale, the resulting image echoes the images of sublimity in 19th-century art, which captured the grandeur of the landscape, an untouched splendor and a vastness seemingly born from the imagination. Lake George Reflection similarly suggests a landscape of infinite scale, confined by but not limited to the expanse of the canvas.

For the exhibition at Anderson Galleries in 1923, the first time Lake George Reflection was exhibited, O’Keeffe dictated that the painting be hung vertically. While the title suggests a certain formal interpretation to her work, the adjustment of orientation altered the viewer’s understanding of it, particularly when viewed in context with other work from the period. The change solely in orientation of Lake George Reflection, not to the painting, forces the viewer to understand the forms in a different manner. Marjorie Balge-Crozier describes this phenomenon in O’Keeffe’s works from this period, writing, “Manipulation of scale, depictions of fragments, precise lines and blurred edges, bold colors—all of these devices are used to create works that are emotional equivalents for her experiences. These are devices that can also elicit feelings of uncertainty, awe, and even terror in the spectator, whether one is looking at a close-up view of a flower or the splitting darkness of the Black Place. Paintings that are extremely minimal can appear at first as objects for calming meditation, then dissolve into uneasy questions of identity, with hills resembling body parts. In the end, the spectator is left with an equivalent sublime experience.” (Georgia O’Keeffe: Visions of the Sublime, p. 103)

Particularly when understood vertically, Lake George Reflection encourages anthropomorphic comparisons. Sharyn Udall explains, “Some of her landscapes do contain forms that—perhaps without any conscious intention on her part—insist on some relationship to the body. At Lake George in 1919 O’Keeffe produced several paintings of bifurcated glowing forms that begin as landscape but become increasingly abstract.” (Georgia O’Keeffe: Visions of the Sublime, p. 118) As a vertical work, the painting most closely relates to her magnified flower imagery, which she was simultaneously exploring. In works such as Flower Abstraction (1924, Whitney Museum of American Art), undulating lines and soft coral tones are quite clearly evocative of the delicate petals of a flower but the cragged vertical white line serves to bisect the image, echoing the compositional format of Lake George Reflection. Other more abstract works from the period, including Music—Pink and Blue No. 1 (1918, Seattle Art Museum) which was also in the Anderson Galleries show of 1923 and Grey Line with Lavender and Yellow (1923, Metropolitan Museum of Art), are similarly suggestive.

While O’Keeffe’s works, such as Lake George Reflection and her iconic flower paintings, seem to inherently suggest comparisons with the human form, something she patently rejected, the evolution of O’Keeffe from daring female Modernist to a sexualized media sensation was undoubtedly fostered, if not masterminded by Stieglitz. Beginning in 1918, he created a series of photographs which depicted O’Keeffe in the nude. “As art critic Henry McBride put it: ‘It made a stir. Mona Lisa got one portrait of herself worth talking about. O’Keeffe got a hundred. It put her on the map. Everybody knew the name. She became what is known as a newspaper personality.’ Moreover these photographs forged the first public image of O’Keeffe. She was seen as a sexually liberated, modern woman, and this idea of her became a visual equivalent of Stieglitz’s ardent and ongoing promotion of O’Keeffe’s art as a direct manifestation of her sexuality.” (B.B. Lynes, Georgia O’Keeffe, 2001)

Regardless of the source of these intimate connotations attributed to her most admired artwork, Lake George Reflection reflects the pictorial strategies that O'Keeffe developed as an avant-garde American Modernist: interest in a type of heightened realism that pushes an image to the edge of abstraction. It is this near abstraction that evokes the mystical and spiritual qualities that O'Keeffe associated with her organic subjects and which are the source of their strength. Hunter Drohojowska-Philp emphasizes the role of Lake George Reflection in pioneering this element of O’Keeffe’s best work, explaining, "In the spring of 1923, O'Keeffe incorporated Stieglitz's cloud motif into a pair of abstractions redolent of her earlier interest in Art Nouveau, Pink Moon and Blue Lines and Red Lines. Pink Moon and Blue Lines returns to a palette of magenta, lemon, and aqua arrayed in vertical waves on either side of a pink moon on a deep blue ground. She knew she was breaking down aesthetic barriers. Later, she said, 'When I entered the art world…you weren't supposed to paint yellow…and pink pictures.' Red Lines shows vertical waves of pale blue and buttressing columns of deep red divided by a think pink line. Both compositions derive from O'Keeffe's bisected canvases of the Lake George horizon, but upended. This technique began in her show with the vertical display of Lake George Reflection, a predictable landscape except that the horizon line runs up and down and is enlivened with pastel bubbles. Collector Peggy Guggenheim admitted that she could not decide which way to hang it. Studying photographs taken from various perspectives was enhancing O'Keeffe's ability to paint pictures that could be interpreted in multiple ways--paintings that could be hung vertically or horizontally." (Full Bloom: The Art and Life of Georgia O’Keeffe, New York, 2004, p. 219) Painted at the height of O’Keeffe’s most courageous and innovative creative output, Lake George Reflection confirms her prowess as a master colorist, daring modernist, avant-garde thinker and provocateur.

[herbalnature]

Clouds pile up on the horizon like mountains made of cotton, set starkly against a deep blue sky. Below, symmetrically poised floodlights peer over the scene, silent sentinels to the day's end.

[katiefromcabin7]

CIRCES ISLAND ART

This was an assignment for school so it’s not how I pictured the scene but I’m super proud and I GOT 100%!!!!

I plan to colour Annabeth and maybe the whole scene I drew but that will be once I am done with school and have time this Christmas! Also the assignment was to draw a character and then draw a 1pt symmetrical non natural environment for the character to be the focal point in the centre of the frame on the horizon line.

This weeks assignment is to doo basically the same thing but with a different character in a natural 2pt environment and the character must be off center, so stay tuned becuase im either drawing one of the 7 or using Annabeth from my pirate AU

[talonabraxas]

This Week's Sky at a Glance, January 26 – February 4

FRIDAY, JANUARY 26

Once it's nice and dark, spot the equilateral Winter Triangle in the southeast. Sparkly Sirius is its brightest and lowest star. Betelgeuse stands above Sirius by about two fists at arm's length. To the left of their midpoint is Procyon.

Can you discern their colors? Sirius (spectral type A0) is cold white, Betelgeuse (M2) is yellow-orange, and Procyon (F5) is very slightly on the yellowish side of white. Binoculars make star colors more evident.

As Saturday's dawn grows bright, Mercury and fainter Mars have a very difficult conjunction just above the southeast horizon as shown below. You'll need an open horizon in that direction and optical aid, maybe powerful aid.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 27

The Moon, two days past full, rises not long after the end of twilight. Once it's well up, spot Regulus to its upper right and Gamma Leonis a little farther to its upper left. These are the two brightest stars of Leo's Sickle.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 28

The biggest well-known asterism (informal star pattern) is the Winter Hexagon. It fills the sky toward the east and south these evenings.

Start with brilliant Sirius at its bottom. Going clockwise from there, march up through Procyon, Pollux and Castor, Menkalinan and Capella on high, over and down to Aldebaran, then to Rigel in Orion's foot, and back to Sirius. Betelgeuse shines inside the Hexagon, well off center.

The Hexagon is somewhat distended. But if you draw a line through its middle from Capella down to Sirius, the "Hexagon" is fairly symmetric with respect to that long axis.

Take the line from Aldebaran to Capella, turn it to go from Aldebaran to Betelgeuse instead, and the Winter Hexagon becomes the Heavenly G.

Yin Yang Cosmic Polarity Talon Abraxas

[karma1love]

Just perfect

Pairing:death the kid x black reader

Warnings:none

Summary:death the kid meets soul sister while he was walking on the street and falls head over heels im love with her because of how perfect she is.

In the illustrious Death City, the meister known as Death the Kid roamed the streets with his loyal weapons, Liz and Patty Thompson, by his side. Known for his impeccable symmetry and obsession with perfection, Kid was always on the lookout for any asymmetrical disturbances in the world around him.

One day, while Kid was inspecting a suspiciously crooked building, he caught sight of a young black woman with (h/c) knotless braids and captivating (e/c) eyes. She had an air of confidence and a mischievous smile that intrigued Kid. Intrigued by her unique beauty and captivated by her mysterious aura, Kid approached her with his usual charm and precision.

“Excuse me, miss,” Kid said, his voice filled with curiosity, “I couldn't help but notice your presence. Your symmetry is absolutely stunning. Might I inquire as to your name?”

The young woman turned to face him, her smile widening. “My name is Y/N Evans,” she replied. “And who might you be?”

Kid couldn't help but be enamored by her response. An Evans? Could she be related to Kid's close friend, Soul Evans? The thought excited him, and he couldn't help but let his affectionate side shine through.

“I am none other than Death the Kid,” he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “And might I say, Y/N, your presence has brought an extraordinary sense of balance to my world.”

Y/N chuckled softly, finding Kid's obsession with symmetry endearing. As they continued to converse, they discovered that they shared a love for art, philosophy, and, most importantly, a passion for fighting. Time seemed to fly as they discussed their deepest desires and dreams, forming a connection that felt like it was destined to be.

In the following weeks, Kid and Y/N found themselves spending more time together, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Kid admired Y/N's strength and determination, while Y/N was fascinated by Kid's unwavering dedication to justice and his unique way of seeing the world.

Soul on the other hand was so confused. Why was his sister hanging aloud with kid.

As their friendship blossomed, Kid's feelings for Y/N deepened. He found himself falling head over heels in love with her, captivated by her every movement, every smile, every word. It was as if Y/N was the missing piece in his symmetrical heart.

One fateful day, Kid finally gathered the courage to confess his feelings to Y/N. They were standing at their favorite spot in Death City, overlooking the sunset, its vibrant colors reflecting in their eyes.

“Y/N,” Kid began, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. “Since the day we met, you've brought so much joy and balance into my life. Your presence, your smile, everything about you… I've fallen deeply in love with you.”

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her heart racing. She had grown fond of Kid's eccentricities and his unwavering loyalty, but she never expected him to feel this way. Her face heated up as she searched for the right words to respond.

“Kid,” she whispered, her voice filled with both uncertainty and warmth. “I never thought that someone like you could see me in such a way. Your dedication to justice and your unique perspective on the world have always fascinated me. And now, knowing that you feel the same way… I think I've fallen for you, too.”

A sense of relief washed over Kid as he heard Y/N's response. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming surge of happiness, as if the entire world had aligned perfectly in their favor. They stood there, basking in their newfound love, as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a sky filled with stars.

Y/n then leaned in and kissed kid on both sides of his cheeks.kid blushed. I'm so happy that I met you, y/n said.