#if you are in decent health and think you may very well reach old age

[scientologisabethmoss]

i think about brooke eby, a 30-something woman on tiktok who makes videos about her ALS diagnosis, and how she’s just one of countless young people worldwide who is dealing with the most shit hand you can possibly get. i think about my aunt, who died in her early 50s from frontotemporal dementia and left behind my uncle and my two young cousins. how can you see others around you who, through cruel twists of fate or from awful systemic issues, don’t reach 50, 60, 70 years of age, and somehow deduce that the phrase “aging is a gift” is insensitive or not truthful?

i so desperately want my 95-year-old grandmother to die with dignity. i think that her life has been artificially extended longer than what it should have been in terms of being able to sustain a decent baseline quality of life. but my grandmother, who has always been afraid of death, has chosen to live the way she’s living - as is her right - and she will likely die in a difficult, traumatic way. i know her and i know my family, as much as i would like to be pleasantly surprised to the contrary. but in no way does the sad state of my grandmother’s life take away from the fact that she lived at least 75 full years, a gift given to very few people.

[jeonsjiddies]

apodyopsis (m) | jjk

summary- apodyopsis (n.) ; the act of mentally undressing someone

alternatively, Jungkook is a nude model in your art class

rating- explicit / 18+ word count-  12k pairing- jungkook x reader genre- smut Warnings- daddy kink, slight degrading?, mild health concerns, very light bdsm?, masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), rough sex, kind of dom!jungkook, a little name calling?, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it bb)

blkjmn & dontaskshhhhh ( weak&wet ™) ;  2020 all rights reserved©

a/n: our lovechild is born! We worked so hard on this, we hope you love it as much as we do. Currently thanking my lucky stars that @blkjmn​ agreed to collab with me, and that she saved my life with that glorious sex scene because I can’t seem to stop writing mushy fluffy smut. I love you so much thank you for being by my side and co-writing this with me. <3

“There’s one last thing we need to discuss before you are signed, Mr. Jeon. Do we need to backtrack for a moment to review, or shall we continue on?” The business contractor asked, using his thumb and index finger to push his glasses up further onto his nose bridge.

Jungkook wasn’t registering a single word that left the man’s mouth. His eyes were glued to the fine print on the page that described the job he’d be keeping for likely most of his (young adult) life, or at least until he was able to successfully rid himself of the guilt that's been resting on his broad shoulders for the last ten years.

He would never be able to forget the way his mother’s face fell every time he was discharged from the hospital. Not only did she have no answers and a still sick child to take home, but she also had a weighty hospital bill to add to the others that she received about once a month. She worked her ass off to take care of him as best she could, even with the gigantic debt she kept under her belt for the entirety of his childhood.

All of this was hidden from Jungkook until he was told he had celiac disease at the age of ten. His symptoms had gotten worse the longer his condition remained unnoticed, even though he would complain to his mother of constant pain everyday, tearful eyes locking with hers as if begging for her to give him any sort of relief.

“Mommy, my stomach hurts!”

“I’m not hungry! It makes it worse to eat!”

“Can you please make it stop, mama?”

He cringes every time he thinks about what he must’ve put his mother through as a child, and how she always managed to push a smile even though she was fighting to make ends meet.

Even after all of that, he was hesitating on signing this contract because he was too shy? Bullshit. He’d be selfish if he were to deny this opportunity because of his underlying fear of being seen naked in front of a large audience of people.

He knew he had no real reason to be afraid, though. After constant teasing in school for being extremely thin due to his illness, he built up the courage to get himself a gym membership when his condition became less overbearing.

He ate more often, built up more muscle, and managed to become more confident in himself and his abilities.

So, what did he have to be nervous for?

Jungkook no longer had any issues with stripping himself down. His body was sculpted perfectly, and he had a massive dick to accompany the figure he had worked for so many years towards.

Sure, everything was all set for him, but not for his mom. Jungkook knew that she barely managed to make her rent last month.

He needed to sign this contract.

“Mr. Jeon?” Jungkok’s glossy eyes were blown wide. He hadn’t moved an inch in the past minute.

“Mr. Jeon…” The man rolled his eyes, obviously knowing that it would take a bit more than calling the young man’s name to get him out of whatever trance he’d put himself in. He slammed his fist down onto the table, and Jungkook’s eyes crossed for a moment before he jolted to his senses.

He cleared his throat, and immediately began sputtering apologies.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m not quite sure what came over me, I-” The contractor held his hand up, effectively silencing the boy as he picked up the pen that sat to the right of him while offering it to Jungkook with a raised brow.

“If this is something that you are not going to take seriously, then you may escort yourself out of my office. If you’d like to begin your career in this field, then take this pen and sign this contract.” Jungkook didn’t hesitate in grabbing the pen from the man, immediately apologizing for the way he snatched it out of his grasp.

He gnawed on his bottom lip, eyes scanning over the words on the thin paper as if he hadn’t been in this chair reviewing them for the past three hours.

This job paid well, and he had nothing to risk.

Except for the probable denial of any office job he’d try to apply to.

Why would he want an office job anyway?

Probably because--

“Any day now, Mr. Jeon.” He cast an annoyed glance toward the man. Couldn’t he see that he was contemplating on signing the damn thing?

He sighed, stretched his neck from side to side, and lifted the pen to the paper with a shaking hand.

The moment he finished signing, the crumpled sheet was ripped from under his fingertips, and tucked away into the desk of who Jungkook really hoped wouldn’t be his boss.

“It’s nice to have you along, kid.” Jungkook smiled nervously.

“You’ve got a great look, but of course, nude modeling is about what’s under the clothes.” His face instantly began to pale as he gripped the armrests of the chair he sat in.

Was this old dude asking to see him naked? Right now?

“You can step inside of the bathroom behind me to change. There should be a robe hanging on the door. Put it on, meet me outside, and we’ll take a few pictures for your portfolio.”

Jungkook sat still in the chair, staring at the man across from him with those adorable eyes widened in slight panic.

He was trying to pull himself up so he wouldn’t look like a fumbling idiot, but he couldn’t move a limb.

There was no turning back now, and he was fully aware of that.

“Am I… am I supposed to be naked for the f-first photo shoot?” Jungkook asked, his voice weak.

The contractor raised an eyebrow. It was normal for newcomers to be nervous, but he couldn’t understand why it was so difficult for him to follow directions.

In due time, he supposed.

“No, Jungkook.” The contractor sighed, pressing his thumb and middle finger against his temples in distress. Jungkook noted that this was the first time the man had addressed him formally as well, so it was probably in his best interest to go get changed if he didn’t want to get fired before he officially started the job.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He said, standing from the chair as he looked over the contractor’s shoulder to the bathroom. It seemed to be decently sized, and he could really use some time alone to get his nerves settled before he had to… well, pose naked for the camera.

Well, not naked. Not this time. That’s what the contractor said.

He looked toward the man one last time, before he began pushing himself in the direction of the bathroom. Upon approaching it, he could pick up the smell of lavender coming from the candles that were lit inside.

He opened the door, and immediately turned around to close and lock it.

He checked to make sure the door was locked before he pulled his shirt over his head and carefully pulled each of his shoes off.

He checked once more as he unbuckled his pants.

He checked one final time as he threw his belt to the floor.

Jungkook slid his thumbs in between his hips and the fabric of the jeans as he tugged them down toward the ground. He had no issue with this as of yet, seeing as he was still in his boxers.

He pressed his body up against the wall, giving himself something to lean up against as he took his jeans off and threw them toward the pile of his clothes he created on the floor.

The boxers were all that were left.

“Come on, man.” He whispered to himself, glaring at his reflection in the mirror as he began to get annoyed at his own anxiousness.

It was just a couple of pictures, and he’d be covered by a robe. He was acting like a wreck for no reason.

He closed his eyes and yanked the boxers down in one swift motion, knowing that if he hesitated, he probably would’ve just left them on.

Jungkook shivered as the cold air went straight to his dick, and he almost knocked one of the candles over and sent the bathroom up into flames as he lunged for the robe that was near the door.

It was soft and fluffy, and it also carried the faint scent of the lavender that engulfed his senses. It was warm as well, like a heated towel.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad, then.

He noticed that there were a pair of flimsy sandals sitting near the door as he prepared to leave. He was never told to put them on, or to mess with them at all, but he’d rather not walk around with his bare feet, so he slid them on anyway.

He checked his reflection once more, adjusting the robe a bit so it hung loosely around his waist, and so more of his chest could be exposed.

Sure, he was nervous, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to put on a good show.

He ran his hands down his sides, purposely brushing them over his cock as he considered giving it a few quick pumps before he made his way outside.

That’d be sure to leave a great first impression, which was what he was going for, but it’d be obvious that he was touching himself because his face would blush bright red.

He reached down to grab his clothes, folding them somewhat neatly. He grabbed his shoes and sat them on top of the stack of clothes he’d made.

Worry began to bubble in his stomach once he stepped out of the bathroom to find himself alone in the large office room, but he quickly remembered that he was told to meet the guy outside.

He hummed a small tune as he took quick steps toward the office door, placing his large hand upon the knob and opening it slowly, just in case his boss (Jungkook decided to assume that’s who this man was going to become. It’s better to wish for the worst anyway, right?) was right in front of the door.

Once he didn’t feel any force being pressed against the door, he opened it carefully and shimmied his way out of the office. He pressed his back against it to close it, and this small action caught the attention of his boss, who was sitting on a small bench a few feet away from the office.

“Great! You’re all changed.” The man smiled gently at him, clapping his hands together as he stood up and quickly approached Jungkook.

Jungkook stumbled back a few steps, confused by this sudden change of behavior. Was it because he was finally complying, or was it because he was about to be used for profit?

Either way, he didn’t mind. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to work in a less stressful environment, so he’d take what he could get.

“Uh, yeah… I wasn’t sure of where to put my clothes,” Jungkook began, holding up his clothes as he spoke, “so I decided to—“

“Ah, thank you for the reminder!” The man spoke, retreating back toward the bench he sat on to fetch an unmarked black bookbag from behind it.

He handed it to Jungkook, who took it thankfully and with a small smile.

“When do I return this to you?” Jungkook asked, not bothering to look toward his boss as he spoke as he was busy stuffing his belongings into the bag.

“It’s yours to keep, son.” Jungkook closed the bag and stood up, tossing it lazily over one of his shoulders as he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, thank you so much.” He smiled sincerely. He was especially thankful that it was unmarked, because if he were to wear the bag out in public, he’d hate for someone to actually read the company name and google it, only to find pictures of him covered with only a robe on the home page.

He shivered at the thought.

“The studio is actually on this floor, so we haven’t got far of a walk at all.” His boss began to walk, and Jungkook followed a few feet behind him as he began to survey his surroundings at each turn they took.

“Now, there will be a handful of people in this room with you. Other models, photographers, of course, lighting specialists, stylists, and a few possible employers.” Jungkook hummed as the man spoke, ignoring every word that was coming out of his mouth as his heart began to thud loudly in his chest.

He didn’t need this explanation, anyway. The average person knows a little something about how a photo shoot works.

Even though he was a considerable distance away from his boss, he was almost sure that he could hear the thudding in his chest.

“Every single one of the people waiting in this room are going to do their best to make you look good, so there’s no need to worry. Relax, and you focus on making the company look good.” He laughed throatily, and Jungkook laughed stiffly from behind him.

‘Make the company look good my ass,’ Jungkook thought.

He rolled his eyes, almost crashing directly into the short man in front of him as they abruptly stopped at a door tucked away into the corner of the hallway they were on.

“This is it. Do you have anything else to ask of me?” Jungkook hurriedly said no, his nerves being replaced by the excitement to show himself off a bit.

“Alright.” The man nodded once before he opened the door, and once again, Jungkook was slapped in the dick with a blast of cold air.

He raised his eyebrows in interest as he surveyed the few models that were scattered about the different sets that were spread apart in the room. One set was sexy and seductive, dripping in elements of crimson and black, another was a bit more fun, which used orange and yellow to contrast against the white, and Jungkook couldn’t even conjure up the words to describe the other sets.

He continued to watch the models pose as if this was natural for them, flinching every now and then at the bright light that would flash every time a picture was taken.

He also noted that all of the models were nude.

They seemed to be masters of their talents, so maybe Jungkook got to leave the robe on because he was an amateur?

“Shit.” Jungkook cursed under his breath. Another cool draft of wind ran through the room, and he scurried to look down and pull the robe over his thighs.

Jungkook heaved a sigh of relief once he successfully covered himself, and his boss quickly strolled over to him to grab the bag off of his shoulder. Jungkook immediately looked over to ask him what he was doing, but before he got the chance, he was being whisked away by a manicured hand.

Everything moved quickly, but this should’ve been what Jungkook was expecting. This wasn’t just about his money.

He was thrown onto a couch near the center of the room, which was white just like the walls.

As soon as his ass touched the couch cushions, there were at least four people crowding over him to add some blush to his cheeks, and add some hairspray to his hair.

He was startled, but he didn’t mind the chaotic environment. It reminded him very much of the hospital he frequented when he was younger, and the thought of him finally being able to help his mom out after so long brought a smile to his face.

After the clutter of bodies went away, Jungkook was left alone on the couch with a camera pointed directly at him.

He gulped, his mouth suddenly dry.

The man behind the camera snapped a few shots of Jungkook to test the quality of the photos, and once he was pleased with what he saw, he stared expectantly at Jungkook with a raised brow.

“Uh…” Jungkook began.

“Take your robe off.” He stated bluntly. Jungkook choked, and immediately looked to where he saw his boss last, but he was nowhere to be found.

That fucker.

“I—I thought that I—“

“You may want to be quick about it, too. Time is money, and the more pictures we take of you, the better your chances are at being promoted.” Jungkook sighed.

If there was one thing he needed, it was money.

Hell, that’s what he got the job for.

He slowly brought his hands down to the sash that was holding the robe together and undid it, tossing it next to him on the couch.

He smirked lightly when he heard a few of the women standing behind the photographer gasp, quickly scanning every one of their faces to see their shocked expressions.

Jungkook could read the women easily. They all bit their lips, winked, or waved flirtatiously as he made eye contact with them, except for one woman.

She smiled teasingly at him, although she was seemingly unimpressed with his level of confidence. She raised an eyebrow tauntingly, pretending as if she didn’t understand why everyone was reacting as if they’d never seen a penis before. Though her cool exterior radiated disinterest, Jungkook could see past her facade, her eyes gave everything away. He could see the desire in her y/e/c irises. Jungkook understood, he felt it too.

Jungkook returned the smile, oddly at ease by her presence. He absentmindedly licked his lips as he raked his eyes up and down the curves of her figure.

She wore a long sleeved shirt that hugged her frame perfectly, a tight skirt that rested a few inches above her knees, and a pair of black heels that made her legs look absolutely stunning from where Jungkook was sitting.

He was sure they’d still look delicious if he were to take a closer look, which he wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

His mind wandered, images of her naked body flashing behind his eyelids. He lost himself in his daydreams of kissing up her legs while she squirmed underneath him.

What the hell is wrong with him? He was made to be the one receiving suggestive glances, but here he was, blatantly checking out the cute girl that was just trying to make him comfortable.

The girl broke eye contact with him, and he immediately looked away as well, squirming slightly in his seat as he felt his cock harden between his legs.

He made no effort to hide it, but he did close his legs a bit to make it less obvious.

He did not just get a boner because he made eye contact with a pretty girl.

Well, on the bright side, he didn’t have to worry about getting himself hard in the bathroom.

He glanced over in the lady’s direction once more, pouting once he noticed that she was no longer paying any attention to him, instead scribbling something down on a notepad she held in her small hands.

Why did he want her attention so bad?

“Alright,” The photographer began, bringing Jungkook back down to earth, “Keep it natural. The more relaxed you feel, the better your photos will turn out.” Jungkook nodded, a bit more eager than he should’ve been to begin his first session.

“Perfect!” The photographer yelled, snapping one last photo of Jungkook before he closed the lens of his camera and began to pack up his equipment.

Most of the other models and workers filed out already, and Jungkook was overly thankful that it would be his turn to leave this room next.

Jungkook thought the shoot went very well, as it was very easy for him to… keep himself encouraged throughout, thanks to that pretty lady.

He relaxed from his position, in which he was leaned forward, his elbows propped onto his knees as he smirked cockily at the camera.

He wasn’t sure of what to do just yet, waiting for his liar of a boss to make himself shown again.

Especially considering that the man had his clothes and shoes.

Jungkook sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his back into the couch as he breathed in and out slowly. He continued like this for a few moments, until he could hear heels tapping against the floor in his direction.

He opened one of his eyes, taking a peek at who was walking toward him.

Jungkook immediately sat up upon noticing that it was the woman with the sexy legs that kept his dick hard through the entirety of his shoot.

She approached him with a friendly smile, and Jungkook returned her sincerity with a smile of his own.

“Could I take a seat?” She motioned toward the empty spot on the couch next to him. Jungkook nodded once.

“Of course.” He moved over a bit, his cock swinging against his inner thigh as he did so.

It was then that he realized that he was absolutely naked still, so he grabbed the robe that laid over the arm of the couch and threw it on, as if the woman hadn’t already seen everything he had to offer— and more.

“Thank you!” She smiled at him. ”I’m Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m Jungkook.” She chuckled at this. Jungkook was confused as to what she found funny, maybe his name?

He gripped the robe between his fingers, nervously running the pads of them over the soft material as he pondered over what could’ve made the tempting woman in front of him giggle so sweetly.

“Why’re you laughing?” She noticed his nerves return, a knowing smirk on her lips as she watched the way he shyly avoided eye contact with her.

“I already know who you are, Mr. Jeon.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. It’s almost as if she knew she was enticing.

“You did some great work today, you know?” She flashed him an adorable smile again.

It was something about the way that ‘Mr. Jeon’ rolled off of her tongue that was driving Jungkook up the wall.

“Look, I know this may seem a bit forward, but you radiate great potential.” Jungkook nodded, thanking her quietly, as she pulled out that notepad that she was scribbling in when she was too busy to give him attention while he was posing sexily.

“I conduct an art class at a community center, and I’d love it if you were to drop by and model for me a bit, since you’ve gotten the swing of things fairly quickly.” She giggled, as she ripped out the page from the small book and handed it to him gently.

“Please, feel free to decline if you’re uncomfortable, but if you’d like to give it a try then give me a call.” She eyed him carefully as he picked up the paper and read over it.

“That’s my personal number, so you can call me whenever you’d like.” Something about that sentence put an image into Jungkook’s head.

“Alright, I’ll get out of your hair now.” She stood up, collecting her belongings as she did so.

“If I never run into you again, then it’s been a pleasure, Jungkook.” She proceeded to walk away, leaving him on the couch alone.

Jungkook lingered just outside the door of the art room, his stomach twisting with nerves. When he’d first been approached about modeling, he’d laughed it off. It started off with easy stuff, brand deals and commercial advertisements. How did he end up here? Posing nude in front of a group of strangers to pick apart his body for their art? This was the best paying gig he’d ever been presented with… the small advertising gigs had been a couple hundred at best but this one would put a sizable dent in his mother’s debt, easing her misfortune. Jungkook had to do this. For her.

He held his head high and strolled into the room with a confident air, any trace of his uneasiness washed away. He glanced around at the unfamiliar faces, carefully watching his every move. He smiled in a greeting, until his eyes landed on you. His face lit up at seeing your familiar face and your heart clenched at the sight.  Should Jungkook have found comfort in your deceptively soft eyes? No. Did he? Absolutely. Your sharp tongue didn’t phase him too badly, not when he could see the tenderness in your eyes.

“Good morning, Mr. Jeon.” you smiled, extending your hand in an invitation.

Jungkook reached out, enveloping your small hand in his own larger one, shaking it professionally. He reveled at how soft your skin was.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N.” he greeted. “Good morning, everyone.” he addressed the rest of the room. “Please call me Jungkook.”

“Alright. Jungkook here is going to be our model. Long gone are the days of fruit baskets. Here is where the fun begins.” you smirked, sending a raised eyebrow Jungkook’s way.

In spite of himself, Jungkook blushed under your suggestive gaze.

“Now, don’t forget that this is for art.” you emphasized. “The human body is a work of art and I expect you to treat it as such. Take this seriously. Okay?”

Most heads nodded automatically, a few older women rolled their eyes or stole looks from each other, mocking you. You were placing a young, muscular man in front of them without clothes. How did you expect them not to ogle?

“For this particular piece, we’re going to be exploring how to use charcoal to get those little details. Don’t forget your shading!” you chimed happily. “Ready, Jungkook?”

“I think so.” he smiled.

“Show us what you got.” you grinned, stepping back and sitting at your own easel.

Jungkook’s hands trembled a bit as he unbuttoned his shirt, trying his best to 1. Not look like a total basket case and 2. Not make it super sensual. Deft fingers worked their way down his shirt and soon the material was sliding off his body in a way he felt was unceremoniously, but judging from the mouths hanging open around the room, might’ve been a bit more enticing than he’d intended.

Jungkook’s chest was absolutely flawless, in your opinion. You were one of the few who managed to keep your tongue inside your mouth for the show, but that didn’t stop your eyes from wandering over his toned physique. Sure you’d seen him at his photography shoot, but he was wearing a robe and you were trying to be professional. Now, hidden behind your easel, you were free to really take him in.

His chiseled chest, the deep ridges of his toned abs, the smoothness of his skin, the light dusting of hair that teased its way under his jeans. He was a walking wet dream. Your mouth watered as your gaze followed the lines of his V. Jungkook popped open the button of his jeans, tugging the zipper down as well. You’d never been so entranced by a simple movement in your life. The man radiated sexual energy.

He shimmied his hips free of the denim, his every movement captivating his audience.  Firm hip bones, luscious thick thighs, deliciously tanned skin were all slowly revealed as he tugged the jeans off in one fluid motion. Maybe he should be a stripper instead of a model… You shook the thought away, but it lingered. Jungkooks movements faltered for a moment, his eyes seeking yours for comfort. You smiled reassuringly at him, and that was all he needed to tug his boxers over his delicious thighs and let his glorious cock free.

“Holy shit.” you heard from somewhere behind you.

“He reminds me of a lover I once had in Prague. I’d sneak him into my hotel room and we’d make love until the sun came up. I miss being young.”

Jungkook coughed and brought his arm up to cover the flush spreading across his cheeks at the older woman’s inappropriate comment. You bit back a laugh.

“Alright Jungkook, just make yourself comfortable and we’ll start drawing you, okay?” you instructed, attempting to take his mind off of the earlier comment.

“Okay.” he nodded, settling himself on the stool you’d set out for him, resisting the urge to strike a pose he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold.

The room grew quiet save for the scratch of charcoal on canvas as the class began attempting to do justice to Jungkook’s beauty in their renditions of him. You began by tracing an outline of his body, opting not to attempt any details yet. The pink tint that rested upon the apple of your cheeks was hard to ignore, and you weren’t sure you could handle trying to get details of certain areas just yet.

You did your best to ignore the effect Jungkook’s naked body was having on your own fully clothed one. He was ethereal, beautiful, the kind of man you could lose yourself in. He had charisma, a way about him that just drew people in. Or maybe it was just you. Every time your eyes locked with his, it was like he was the only thing you could focus on. Everything else was obsolete.

Jungkook held a power over you that honestly scared you a little, and he didn’t even know he did. He didn’t understand how magnetic he was. Sure, he was sexy and he knew it. He’d obviously spent hours painstakingly sculpting his body to perfection, but it wasn’t even just his flawless physique, it wasn’t just his gorgeous, greek-god-like face. His power was inside of him, his strength, his determination, that spark in his gaze.

Jungkook was different from the rest, whether he realized it or not. He was special. Everything about him invited you in and coaxed you to give all of yourself to him. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from wondering as you lazily sketched the outline of him. How would his skin feel under your touch? Heat flooded your veins as you imagined what his touch might feel like in return. You shook these thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand and trying to see Jungkook as nothing more than art you were depicting. You were going to make certain you got every detail correct. And for that, you needed to focus.

Jungkook forced himself to look anywhere but at the people who were gawking at his naked frame. He couldn’t stop himself from watching you though.  He found himself wondering what you thought of him. He wanted to see what you were doing on your canvas. He wanted you to look at him. As if reading his thoughts, you lifted your gaze and faltered when you found his already upon you. When your eyes met and he bit his lip in a nervous smile, you knew you were screwed.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a week later. Your class had nearly doubled in size as word spread of the toned man with the impressive cargo. You rolled your eyes to yourself but greeted your new arrivals with the same professional smile. You couldn’t blame them, not really. Would you have passed up the opportunity to see him naked again? Hell no. He was already undressed when you’d arrived, running late after a meeting with the program director congratulating you on your ability to gain interest in your class.

“Sorry I’m late!” you announced to the class, then to Jungkook specifically with an apologetic look.

“That’s alright dearie.” one of the older women commented, and you sent her a gracious smile.

“So! For those of you who are new, you can partner up with someone and observe or you can find your own Canvas located on the tables in the back. If you need any help please let me know, since you weren’t here for the introductory lessons.”

“Does she really think we’re here just to draw?” you heard a whisper from the back of the room.

“I know. I didn’t believe Karen when she told me an asian boy with a giant dong was modeling for her community center art class. I had to see for myself.” another voice giggled.

“If I were 15 years younger, I would climb that boy like a tree. I may be old enough to be his mother, but I could still give him a run for his money.”

“Mmm.. I wonder what he can do with those fingers. I bet he has stamina for days.”

You glanced up at Jungkook, who was actively trying to hide his discomfort, shifting a little on the stool as he attempted to stay still. You cleared your throat, loudly, sending a pointed look to the two women in the back.

“I just want to remind our newcomers that this class is about art, not objectification. Please remain respectful. If you can’t manage that, I’m sure you can manage to find the door.” you nearly hissed.

They shrugged sheepishly and grew quiet. You huffed in annoyance, glancing back at Jungkook again, who sent you an appreciative smile. You nodded, focusing on your canvas in front of you once more.

Once class was over and the others had filed out, you walked up to Jungkook as he was buttoning his jeans. He looked up from his task and greeted you with a warm smile.

“Hey, Y/N.” he grinned, apparently forgetting he still needed to put a shirt on.

You used every brain cell you had to keep yourself from staring at his chiseled chest.

“Hey Jungkook.” you smiled. “Are you okay? Did those women make you uncomfortable? I can ask them not to come back.”

“Oh it’s okay!” he assured you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I appreciate the offer but I don’t want to be a bother. It did make me kind of uncomfortable but they stopped so it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? They said some pretty inappropriate things.” you pressed.

“I don’t mind that what they said was inappropriate,” he explained, “it’s more that they were talking about me like I wasn’t even here. Like I was some sex doll or something. I don’t mind women finding me attractive, but I do have sustenance.”

“I get it. You shouldn’t be objectified while you’re doing your job.” you told him.

“Kind of hard to remind people I have dignity when I’m standing in front of them in all my naked glory. I can see how that might be distracting.” he winked playfully.

“Ah, there’s that cocky personality.” you threw back at him with a grin.

“Seriously though. Thank you for being on my side.” he told you sincerely.

Electricity shot through your body when he leaned in and gave you a gentle hug. You took a deep breath to steady yourself but that only resulted in breathing in the scent of him, musky and woodsy, yet sweet. It reminded you of cinnamon.  It was intoxicating.

You desperately ignored the ache between your thighs and wrapped your arms around him to reciprocate his affections. His body seemed to relax against yours and the embrace lasted a little longer than a hug between mostly strangers should. He pulled away but held you at arms length to watch your features for a moment.

“See, now that’s the kind of look I don’t mind from a woman. Especially one as beautiful as you.” he smirked, turning and grabbing his shirt off the stool before sauntering away and shooting you a shit eating grin as you stand frozen in place.

You shot up, waking with a fright. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. Images flashing through your mind once more. Your subconscious thoughts led way to the hottest sex dream you’d ever experienced, and of course the star was your male model. You couldn’t stop picturing  his mouth on you, his hands on you. You shook your head to clear it. Alone in your bed, you couldn’t get that cocky grin out of your mind. You tried to fight it, you really did. You tried to redirect your mind anywhere but his plump lips, his perfectly sculpted jaw, the way his warm skin felt against yours when he’d hugged you…

Shrouded in shame but overcome with desire, you let your hand dance down your stomach underneath the elastic of your pajama shorts, your fingers finding their way to your slit. You closed your eyes, imagining it was Jungkook’s fingers inside you instead. You pumped them slowly in and out of yourself.

“Ungh… fuck. Jungkook.” you whined, writhing against your fingers, trying to find that spot that drove you crazy.

You picked up the pace, letting your fingers find a delicious rhythm inside of you, wondering what it would feel like if it were Jungkook inside of you instead. His cock was so pretty. It took everything you had not to stand up and start sucking it every time you saw it.

“Jungkook.” left your lips as your whines got louder, moving your attention to circle at your clit with your juices as lubrication.

You wished you had a picture of him to look at while you pleasured yourself to the idea of him, but you let your imagination take control, replaying images from your dream, and creating new fantasies about the model with the sultry eyes. You were close, and the closer you got to the edge, the louder you became. You swore you could almost hear the faint sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing along with your own, but it must’ve been your imagination running wild.

Your orgasm crashed over you, Jungkook’s name leaving your lips repeatedly, like he was the only thought you could muster when your brain turned off and your high took over. You fucked yourself through it, soft whimpers leaving your mouth as you pulled your fingers out. You padded your way to the bathroom to wash up, climbing back into bed not nearly as satiated as you’d hoped to have been. You drifted to sleep anyway, thoughts of Jungkook and the hope of seeing him again soon on the forefront of your mind when unconsciousness took over.

Jungkook was early today, you noticed as you walked into the art room. You were the first two to have arrived, you wanted to make up for being late the previous week.

“Hey. What are you doing here so early?” you asked, setting your bag down as you made your way over to him.

“Needed to talk to you.” he responded, voice low and husky.

“Everything okay?” you asked, concern filling your chest.

“No. Everything is not okay.” he hissed, trapping you against the wall.

You shivered at the sudden change in his demeanor, at his body so close to yours, at the dominating tone of his voice.

“I’ve been horny as hell all week.” he grunted, rutting his hips into yours.

“O-oh.” was all you could muster for a response, your body immediately reacting to his movements and sending moisture to your core.

“Imagine my surprise when I got a call from you late Saturday night.” he smirked, lips ghosting over the hollow of your throat, allowing his cool breath to fan against the area. He watched your skin flush crimson and felt your heart rate pick up.

Saturday night? You hadn’t called him. Saturday night you were… oh.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you sound when you’re moaning my name?” he teased, rolling his hips and pulling them back before pinning you to the wall with them once more, his erection pressed firmly against your aching heat.

“I-” you began to explain, but he cut you off.

“Fuck, the way you sound when you cum… I nearly came too. Listening to you fuck yourself for me. Tell me, what were you thinking about when your fingers sunk into that pretty little pussy? Was it my mouth?” he questioned, letting his lips graze along the shell of your ear.

“Was it my cock?” he ground his hardened member into you once more. “Maybe it was my tongue.” he mused, licking a bold stripe from the swell of your breasts to your collarbone.

A whimper was forced from your throat at his ministrations. You were hyper aware of every breath Jungkook took, feeling his body move against yours. You were also aware that at any moment, people were going to start filing through the door for class.

“Jungkook.” you breathed, a warning.

Or was it a promise?

Jungkook groaned, biting down on the side of your neck and sucking a purple bruise into the exposed flesh, then blowing cold air over the injured spot to soothe it. Your entire body shivered. Jungkook’s head turned as he heard footsteps approach the door. With a pointed look directly into your eyes, he stepped back from you and put much needed space between his body and yours, just in time for the first arrival to walk through the door.

You must’ve been a sight to behold, flushed and breathing heavily while pressed up against the wall. You hadn’t been able to make yourself move after Jungkook stepped away. He looked unbothered, but you were about to burst. You could feel your arousal slipping down your leg. You cursed yourself for wearing a skirt.

Jungkook, however, was thrilled with your outfit choice for the day. Especially since once you’d taken your seat at your easel, he had a front row view of your white lacy panties. Jungkook had already stripped naked for today’s modeling session, having put all of his effort into calming his dick down so he wasn’t hard in front of everyone. However, his efforts were moot when he noticed the dark wet patch imprinted on the ivory fabric that covered your heat.

Jungkook bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood as his eyes latched onto your core. You shifted in your seat, attempting to press your thighs together to find some relief, an action which made Jungkook smirk to himself. Until his cock started reacting. In front of everyone. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was more turned on or more embarrassed when he noticed your gaze unwavering on his hardening member. Your mouth hung open slightly, drool pooling at the edges. Jungkook chuckled to himself.

The other members of the class were just as astonished as you were, but Jungkook paid them no mind. All he could think about was getting inside of you. He couldn’t stop picturing the way your pupils had blown out just at his words, the way your breath hitched when he touched you. He bet you’d be so responsive when his fingers came to tease along your folds. He wondered how tight you were, if you’d be as loud as you were on the phone or even louder? Surely he could make you scream if you’d been that loud with just your own fingers?

Jungkook gave up trying to control his raging boner the moment he saw your arousal pooled at your core on display for him. Suddenly, he saw your hand sneak between your legs and tease along the ivory fabric. His gaze snapped up to your face, your eyes alight with mischief when they met his own. Your fingers pushed the damp fabric aside and began circling around your clit. Jungkook was the only one who could see from his position at the front of the room.

You were putting on a show for him, torturing him when he could do nothing about it. His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, but your face remained impassive, the epitome of feigned innocence. But like always, Jungkook saw the real you behind your heavy lidded gaze. You couldn’t hide from him, he could read you like an open book. There was nothing innocent about the way you were licking your lips, slowly dragging the swollen flesh between your teeth teasingly.

Your fingers spread your folds so Jungkook had a perfect view of your clit as you began rubbing it in slow circles. Jungkook’s eyes were glued to your bundle of nerves and the way your fingers teased at it. You gathered some of your slick to coat your fingers and lubricate them so they slid along your cunt with ease. Your digits were shiny, covered in your arousal. Jungkook nearly came when he watched in agony as you inserted two fingers into your entrance, pulling them back out and twisting them so he could watch the light reflect off your wetness. You stuck them in your mouth and sucked your juices off seductively before going back to your sketch.

Jungkook could not wait to punish your naughty behavior. He couldn’t wait to wipe that satisfied smirk off your face with an expert flick of his tongue. You had an attitude now, but once he was balls deep inside that soaking wet pussy he was sure you wouldn’t be quite so eager to tease him. You weren’t going to cum until you were crying and begging for it, he’d already made up his mind.

The minutes ticked by excruciatingly slow, each passing second felt like an eternity as Jungkook waited for class to be over. It felt like his dick twitched every time the little hand on the clock did. No matter what he did, no matter what he thought of, Jungkook could not get his erection to subside. His thoughts only led back to the lewd way you’d sucked your own arousal off your fingers.

Jungkook thought he might cry tears of joy when you finally dismissed the class with a chipper wave of your hand and a sweet smile. The second the last person walked out the door, Jungkook shut it and you heard the click of the lock echo throughout the empty room. You swallowed nervously, bending over to grab your bag, earning a hearty laugh from Jungkook.

“Oh baby girl… you really think I’m just going to let you leave after the little show you put on for me?” he purred, advancing toward you quickly until his body was flush against yours, breath tickling the space below your ear. “So naughty, teasing daddy like that.” he tsked.

His fingers trailed their way up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered under his touch, though it was barely even there. His skin danced along yours, coming to rest at the curve of your breasts.

“Mmm… I think I’d like to taste these.” he grinned, suddenly yanking your tank top down so that both of your nipples were exposed to the bitter cold of the room.

A smirk played on his lips at the gasp that snuck its way past yours. His head dipped, and you thought he’d immediately take one of your nipples in his mouth, you were salivating over the thought of his warm, wet mouth on your perky buds. Instead, his pillow soft lips found yours, his tongue roaming along until you parted your lips and granted him access.

His tongue danced with yours as he brought his hips closer to grind into your aching center. You had never wanted anyone as badly as you wanted Jungkook. The man pressed against you had you brainless and ready to do anything he asked with a  simple roll of his hips.

Jungkook decided he didn’t like being the only naked one, and pulled your shirt above your head. Were you shivering from the cold air or Jungkook’s predatory gaze? Hell if you knew. Jungkook’s nimble fingers had your bra unhooked in a suspiciously short amount of time but you paid that no mind. He flung it across the room and his mouth was on your breast in an instant. Slick tongue working against your erect nipple while the other was massaged by his large hand. Every movement of his tongue, every playful pinch of his forefinger and thumb against your sensitive skin was sending lightning bolts straight down to your heat.

Jungkook’s mouth left your breast with an audible “pop!” since he sucked the flesh as he pulled away, switching his efforts to the neglected side, this time mixing it up by grazing his teeth ever so softly along the most sensitive part. Soft whimpers left you and you effectively became putty in his hands... and mouth. His tongue darted out to give a final flick against your sensitive bud before his hot kisses descended south. He kissed along the expanse of your stomach, slowly working his way down, sucking and nibbling as he went to leave small bruises dotted over your skin. He flipped your skirt up, exposing the lacy white panties that had been taunting him for hours, and the dark wet patch where your arousal soaked through them. Jungkook let out a growl, ripping the ivory fabric from your body and tossing it aside, revealing your pussy to him.

“So fucking beautiful. Better than I’d imagined.” He praised.

Without warning, his tongue darted out and swiped along your folds. Your knees buckled but Jungkook’s strong arms held you up, hands on either of your hips to keep you still and pressed against the wall while he worked his tongue along your slit then against your throbbing clit.

“Shit!” You cried out, body jolting forward and hands coming to rest on his shoulders when his plump lips wrapped around the sensitive bundle and sucked harshly.

Jungkook showed no mercy, devouring your cunt like it was his death row meal, the final wish of a man with nothing to lose. He lapped at your juices as if it were the last thing he’d ever do. Your entire body was thrumming, shaking violently as your orgasm was wretched out of you with no warning.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, or a curse, you weren’t sure. The only thing you could focus on was the blinding white euphoria his tongue had shoved you headfirst into. You would’ve collapsed if Jungkook hadn’t held you up, allowing you to slowly sink to your knees to meet his posture as your body twitched and shook at the aftermath of your mind blowing high. Your breathing ragged and your eyes wide, you watched the satisfied smile appear on his angelic face. Cocky bastard. Sexy, skilled, ridiculously beautiful cocky bastard.

“Still feeling like a tease?” Jungkook asked, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he raised an eyebrow at you. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and all of his words sounded like another language at the moment.

“What?” You asked, causing him to laugh a bit at your clearly fucked out state of mind. Although the both of you were stripped down to almost nothing (save your skirt) and on your knees in the ground, it was clear who held the power between the two of you.

“You wanna taste yourself on my tongue?” He offered, already beginning to lean forward as he reached his arm out to pull your body closer to his, but you shook your head, an idea playing in the back of your head as you quickly conjured up a plan that’d have him weak and panting instead.

“I’d rather taste you on my own. Stand up.” You ordered.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your cute attempt at telling him what to do as if he hadn’t successfully put you in your place a minute or two ago. He stood nonetheless, vaguely interested in whatever you had up your sleeve. His goal was to make you suffer, but he supposed you could have a bit of fun before he fucked you brainless over that desk that sat a few feet away from the two of you.

You shifted yourself around a bit, as did he, so he now had his back pressed against the wall. You sat submissively under him, although Jungkook was anything but while he had ravaged your sweetness with his tongue.

“You’re pretty with your thighs around my face, but there’s just something about you on your knees.” Jungkook teased, his cockiness never failing to make an appearance as he ran a hand through your hair in appreciation.

You hummed to thank him, a sly smile of your own playing on your lips as you slowly lifted your small hand up to his cock. This small action alone had him tensing up completely, hissing quietly as you squeezed your hand loosely against his length repeatedly until he had to intertwine his fingers with your locks and pull your head up.

“You’d better stop unless you want to walk out of this room with my cum dripping down your face.” He warned.

You shrugged, leaning forward a bit, placing your free hand on his thigh while you stroked his cock slowly, your eyes honing in on the clear liquid that leaked from the tip of his length. You licked your lips at the thought of swiping it away with your tongue, but you weren’t supposed to give in this easily. This wasn’t a part of your plan, but you’d give anything just to keep seeing the expression of pure ecstasy on his face.

You continued to stroke him with your hand, purposely digging your nails into his thigh to see if it’d bring a reaction out of him. A shiver ran from his spine to the tips of his toes as you did this, and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips.

“You like a little pain?” You teased, narrowing your eyes at him in defiance as you stuck your tongue out, pressing it slowly against his shaft.

You licked a stripe from his balls to the angry tip, looking up at him through your lashes as you swiped the precum away like you originally intended.

It was just as salty as you expected it to be, but you didn’t mind at all. You closed your eyes as you brought your tongue back into your mouth, pressing your lips together and swallowing slowly as you allowed the taste of him to burn down your throat.

“You taste just as good as you look.” You commented seductively, pressing a chaste kiss to his cock head and swirling your tongue around it once more before you began to spread your lips over the expanse of his cock.

Now, you’d definitely had your experience with this sort of thing once or twice before, but Jungkook was big, and there was no way you were fitting your pretty mouth over all of him, no matter how desperately you wanted to. As much as you were dying to get all of him in your mouth, for your own safety and wellbeing,  you opted to use your hand to continue to apply some relief to what you couldn’t quite reach with your mouth.

“Oh, shit. That’s so good, baby.” You weren’t sure if he was just in the moment, but your heart fluttered a bit at the pet name.

You hollowed your cheeks as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. You gagged a handful of times, but Jungkook didn’t seem to mind. He even pulled all of your hair into his hands, using it as a sort of makeshift leash as he pushed you further down onto his cock, wanting to hear you gag on him again.

You worked quickly with your mouth, alternating the flicks of your wrists with your hand to keep Jungkook guessing. He had pressed his weight fully against the wall behind him, his leg twitching occasionally whenever you ‘accidentally’ dragged your teeth along the underside of his dick, not enough to cause any real harm, just enough to ignite a spark.

“Oh my God…” He whimpered.

You did yourself the favor of looking up at him while your mouth was stuffed full, your pussy spasming at the sight. His mouth was hung open in a silent moan, his eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, and a few of his sweaty black locks were stuck to his forehead. You figured you could make him cum just like this, but you’d rather be his personal cumbucket. Was it a bit selfish? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. He looked absolutely delectable above you.

He cracked his eyes open just as you slid his cock out of your mouth, gathering up the saliva that built up while your lips were stretched around him and spitting it back out onto his manhood. You were deliberately slow with this, wanting him to feel it the moment it made contact with his head. You watched his face as your saliva spilled down onto his shaft, using this as lubrication as you continued to pump your fist against him.

You sank down further onto your knees, only able to give his balls a few licks with your tongue, and a short lived massage before you were yanked backward, head first. Your immediate reaction to this was a rough squeeze to his cock, since it was the only thing in your grasp at the moment. You let out a strangled groan as he clenched his jaw while looking down at you, cock standing at attention as he debated his next movement.

“Get the fuck up.” He commanded you, although he pulled you up off of the ground by the grip he had on your hair on his own.

He pressed your back to his chest, ensuring you felt every ripple of his muscles pressed against your naked skin. Making a path with his hand from your stomach, in between your breasts, then finally to your neck,  he held you firmly against him, so you had no space between your flushed bodies. You felt every rise and fall of his toned chest, his breathing just as ragged as yours.

“I’m going to bend you over that desk there, alright?” He whispered into your ear, his cool breath fanning over your cheek as you nodded eagerly, just wanting him to follow through with his plan instead of telling you the process. After all, actions do speak louder than words.

“When I let you go, I want you to walk over there like a good little slut and bend over. Flip that skirt up and show me your cunt. Can you do that for me?” You felt his cock twitch against your inner thigh, and you nodded again with a quiet moan.

“Go.” He let you go with one word, watching you swiftly walk over toward the desk as he took his length in his right hand and stroked it quickly while approaching you with loud, threatening footsteps.

You weren’t sure how that was possible since he didn’t have shoes on, but it only excited you further. You complied with his orders easily, pressing your cheek against the cold surface of the desk. You  hiked the skirt up a bit around your waist and wiggled your ass teasingly as you waited for him to come ravage you.

“You’re cute, but you’re so annoying.” He grunted from behind you, slapping both of your ass cheeks with his heavy hands, massaging them afterward before delivering two more harsh slaps.

“You work me up in front of a room full of people, and then try to collect your stuff afterward as if you weren’t practically begging me to use you? Bullshit.” He spanked your ass again, relishing in the way you hissed after every hit and gripped the edge of the desk tighter.

“I’m going to make a mess out of you, you know that?” He pressed his chest against your back, pushing his weight onto you as he whispered into your ear.

You nodded, his eyes scanning over the expanse of your back as his long fingers momentarily kneaded your muscles.

“What’re you waiting for, then?” You quipped, although your voice sounded a bit flat because of Jungkook’s body weight. He laughed as he pulled himself up off of you.

Silently, he grabbed his cock and lined it up with your pussy as he pressed the head against your tight hole. You moaned at this, inhaling sharply as he just barely slipped himself inside of you. You whimpered in defeat as he pulled out quickly afterward, not wanting to give you the time to savor the feeling of being stretched out by his length.

“I swear, if you wait any longer then I’m going to fuck myself on your dick.” You threatened shakily, to which he smirked at.

“Is that so?” He let go of his cock. “Be my guest, then.” He shrugged, although you couldn’t see him.

You turned around swiftly, beyond irritated at whatever game he was trying to play. You were turned on, and you wanted to be fucked silly, but he was acting like a brat.

“You know what? Fine, I will.” You challenged, looking over your shoulder at him to see the intrigued smile on his face.

You rolled your eyes, roughly grabbing his cock and pushing yourself back onto him hastily. Jungkook disapproved of this, landing a sharp slap to your right ass cheek he gripped your hips roughly. He held you securely, preventing you from sliding back any further onto his cock.

“You’d better slow down, sweetheart.” He warned shakily, his nails leaving small imprints on your skin as he moved his hands down to your ass. “I haven’t cum yet, and your little hole is so inviting.”

You gulped, although something about his threat to cum inside of you was one step closer to pushing you over the edge.

“Take it slowly. Take me in slowly, so I can feel you.” With this he let go of your ass, watching with lidded eyes as your arousal coated more than half of his manhood.

He licked his lips at this, loving the way your juices spilled onto him, and onto the desk. Perhaps he’d make you lick his cock clean afterwards. That’d be a sight to see.

Your hips stuttered before you could take the last few inches, which sent a gigantic boost to Jungkook’s ego. Of course, he knew he was big, but something about seeing you struggle to take him in fully even after you talked all of that shit previously was egging him on.

“You at your limit, baby?” He mocked you, and as soon as you tried to respond, your voice cracked.

He hummed, chuckling slightly as he slid his hands up from your ass to your back, scratching his stubby nails at your flesh before threading his fingers in your hair once more. He roughly yanked your head back with a malicious smile. Your body jolted at this, which sent the rest of his cock plunging into you in one go.

“God, that’s fucking it. Look at you, swallowing Daddy’s dick like a good girl. You look so pretty stuffed full like this.” You were incomprehensive, your entire being filled with thoughts of Jungkook pummeling your pussy out of existence.

“Not so eager to use that fucking mouth now, are you? Hm?” He asked, pulling your head back a bit further.

Your back was so arched that you could see the ceiling and a bit of his face, and this new position made it so much easier for his cock to brush against that spot that made you a mumbling mess.

“You should be ashamed, really.” He said, dropping his head down to look at your ass as he slowly began to work his hips against it. “Have you got anything to say for yourself?” You were taking him so well, but he couldn’t let his unbothered persona falter just yet.

“Well?” He let go of your hair, and you immediately dropped your head forward, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you struggled to hold yourself up on your elbows while he ruthlessly fucked you.

“You’re s-so fucking big.” You mumbled pathetically, causing Jungkook to twitch inside of you.

“I know. You like Daddy’s big fat cock inside that tight little pussy.  Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good you feel.” He pushed one of his hands down against your back, silently telling you to press your breasts against the desk. You obeyed, hissing as your nipples hardened instantly after making contact with the cool surface.

“I like—o-oh, oh shit.” Your jaw fell slack as Jungkook began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his expert hips moving with such sharpness that you could feel it each time he pulled back a bit to fuck himself into you again. Although you didn’t do what he asked of you, he didn’t pressure you any further, his only goal to use you as his cute little cocksleeve.

“Spread your legs for me.” You immediately moved to follow his request, unable to balance yourself on your feet now. This was no problem, as Jungkook easily took a secure grip around your waist to keep you pressed against the desk.

“You feel so good around me like that, oh shit.” Jungkook whimpered, his tongue hanging out of his mouth slightly as he jabbed his fingers into your sides and pulled you onto the tips of your toes. You were startled at the sudden change, although it allowed for him to drive deeper inside of you.

“Put your hands on the edge of the desk now. Do it right fucking now.” He growled like some sort of feral animal. You scurried to follow his orders, just as he began to slam his cock so powerfully inside of your cunt that your hips banged against the metal desk with every other thrust, and you knew there would be bruises.

“F-fuck!” You screamed, and Jungkook responded quickly by throwing his hand messily over your mouth to quiet your moans.

“Shh, Y/N. We can’t let you get caught being a little slut.” He chuckled breathlessly, short moans and growls leaving the back of his throat as he continued to piston his hips in and out of you, your ass slapping against his abdomen every time the two of you connected. You were teetering over the edge, desperately wanting to lose control underneath him.

“I’m cumming, I’m gonna c—JUNGKOOK!” You yelled out in frustration as he slipped his cock out of you.

He grunted, pushing some of the clutter on the desk away before picking you up and setting you on top of it, so he could see your face.

“One,” He said, his voice raspy which caused you to shiver, “You’re not cumming unless I get to see your face when you do. Two,” He continued, slipping himself back into you with ease due to how fucking soaked you were, “You’re not cumming until you beg for it.” He reached for one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, gripping onto it as he sustained the rapid pace of his manhood plunging into your inviting heat.

“I-I wanna cum, Daddy.” You whispered in defeat, a twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes as he was beginning to finally get you where he wanted you. You weren’t begging just yet, though, which was unfortunate for you because you wouldn’t get an orgasm, and Jungkook was going to cum inside you either way.

“You do, Princess?” He whispered back, still holding your leg while his other hand moved to the back of your head. He pressed your forehead against his, your noses bumping as Jungkook fucked you. You nodded, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes at having to hold your orgasm back.

“You aren’t begging for me, baby. Beg me to give you permission to cum on this dick.” You cried out weakly, knowing that you’d have to give in to his rules in order to achieve that sweet release. It was right in the tip of your tongue.

You placed your arms around his neck, hanging them there loosely as you gazed into his eyes, which were full of lust and carnal desire.

“Can I cum o-on your c-cock—a-ah!” You failed miserably to finish your sentence, as Jungkook began pistoning his cock inside of your cunt with such force that the desk began to screech against the ground a bit, knocking at one of the metal racks behind it.

“I’m so close to cumming, pretty girl. Talk fast.” He warned, thrusts quickly becoming unorganized. You nodded.

“Please let me cum! I-Iv’e learned my lesson, I swear I have! I’m so close Jungkook, p-please!” He grunted his approval, nodding once and delivering about a dozen more thrusts before he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, biting down on the skin there as he began to shoot rope after rope of his cum deep inside of your greedy cunt.

You came with him, your body tensing up for a few moments before your release smacked you like a bus, heavy and unapologetic.  Due to the wild fuckfest the two of you had, though, a few utensils hit the ground, and a can of paint was wobbling on the edge of the rack that the desk was smashing against a few seconds ago.  Jungkook finally lifted his head up, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. He placed one final kiss to your forehead before locking eye contact with you.

“I know for a fact that was the best fuck of your life.” You laughed, shaking your head at the fact that his cocky attitude would never settle. Not even after using up (what you assumed was) all of his stamina.

You didn’t mind it, though. In fact, you were starting to grow fond of it.

“It certainly was, but look at all the—“

The can of paint gave way to the pull of gravity, and tumbled to the ground with a deafening crack, the contents of the can flying out and splattering directly onto you and Jungkook. You knew what it was as soon as it hit your skin, and you immediately wondered why someone would leave a damn can of open paint on the top shelf.

It was brief, a big splash, so neither of you really had time to react to it. When you finally lifted your head up, Jungkook’s chest was covered in black paint, as were your legs and skirt. Seriously, the one fucking day you decide to wear pink?

“—Mess. Look at all the mess.” You finished your sentence with a giggle, thankful that you kept towels in the room during your classes. It’d never come out of your skirt, but at least you could wipe it off of your skin.

Your gaze met Jungkooks and you both burst out in a fit of giggles. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, the polar opposite of the domineering man who’d just rocked your world minutes before. This Jungkook was soft, open, lighter. His laughter was the most beautiful melody that had ever graced your ears and you wouldn’t have minded listening to it for a very long time. His joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop the goofy smile from spreading across your lips as he wrapped his arms around you in a playful hug.

Though his touch still sent electricity through you, this was different. It was sweet and gentle. You let yourself melt in his embrace, drinking in the way he made you feel so secure, so wanted. You sighed happily. You grinned mischievously then, collecting some of the paint off of the surface of the desk and wiping a thick stripe of it across his cheek. He froze in shock then glared at you, a hint of a smile playing on those gorgeous lips.

He reached out to grab you, but you were too fast, shrieking in delight as you ran away from him. Jungkook chased you around the small art studio, his laughter floating through the air like your favorite song. His arms snaked around you and he pulled you close, rubbing his cheek against yours to spread the paint over your skin. Your giggles dissolved as he placed a tender kiss to your lips.

Pulling away and placing a peck on his nose, you began pulling your clothes back on. Jungkook watched you, admiring the way your body moved, how much sweeter you were once your attitude had been properly taken care of. You smiled at him over your shoulder, and he couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever seen such a beautiful smile on any other woman. He couldn’t recall seeing another woman who even compared to you.

Then realization brought a similar smile onto his own lips, and Jungkook thought to himself, that he just might have found the one.

[katsukikitten]

Part 2! Here is Part 1 f you have yet to read it! I hope you enjoy my little Walmart brand of summer wars as much as I am writing it! Let me know what you think!

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The two of you leave with a small bow before your grandmother answers the phone. 

The second you are out of the room Bakugou grabs you roughly by the wrist, pulling you down into the small dimly lit hallway to press you against the dark wooden wall, caging you in much like he did on the train. 

But this time with malintent. Small pops ring out from his forearms, one hand threatening to char the wood beside your head while the other grips your wrist harder. 

You could understand his anger, it's not as if you had been truthful to Bakugou. He detests liars and although you didn't necessarily lie to him you still told him a half truth. He was still figuring out which was worse. 

"Fucking fiance?!" He snarls close to your face, "Deal's off." 

You had planned to allow him to bitch and moan about the shitty situation you put him in without argument. 

But his refusal to act semi decent towards you for the sake of your grandmother's old heart had rage burning hot in your veins. 

It wasn't like you were asking him to fuck you. With a tick in your jaw you drop your precious Kimono. Grabbing onto his chin with your free hand, tilting his face closer to yours to have a better look at those stunning crimson eyes. They widen from both the force of your grip and the proximity of your lips. He swallows thickly, his glare slowly coming back. 

"Listen here Bakugou Katsuki. I'm asking you to pretend to be my fiance for two weeks. I'm asking for small shit like sitting close to me, maybe giving a small smile in my direction and at the most hand holding. I'm not asking you to fucking marry me or fuck me in front of my family. My grandmother is a bit old fashioned if you couldn't tell by the house or her demeanor, she has been hounding me about bringing a man to her for approval since I was 16. She wanted to make sure I had a man that deserved me, that I would be taken care of. So I've made up boyfriend after boyfriend since I've never really had time for more than a good fuck but my Uncle called me last winter to tell me her health was beginning to decline and rapidly at that. I called her immediately and told her I had just become engaged and she'd meet him on her birthday. So you've got two choices Katsuki." You let every syllable of his name soak in sugar coated venom, "Suck it up for two fucking weeks and be semi decent to me or break my grandmother's heart and earn a dangerous enemy." 

Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest the entire time you were ranting, unsure of why he was attracted to the hard set of your eyes and the ice in your voice. His stomach flips when you say his first name causing him to grind his teeth. He breaks away from your grip with his free hand, quickly pinning your arms above your head. Locking your delicate yet deadly wrists in one of his broad hands while the other presses against your hip bone. Thumb sliding through the loop of your too short shorts, bringing your pelvis to his.  The denim was barely able to contain your ass and thick thighs, he is surprised none of your elders have scolded you for such indecency if they were as old fashioned as you say. 

The faint blush on your cheeks and the defiant look in your eyes has his voice turn husky as he speaks.

"I should make you regret bringing me here. Maybe have you begging for something else." His lips a breath away as he presses his forehead to yours. Eyes molten with what you think is lust before he tilts his face. Amplifying the sudden magnetism between your plump lips and his own. Your chest tightens with mixed emotions as your eyes begin to flutter closed.

Suddenly he changes direction and gives you a harsh headbutt, hard enough your vision blurs at the edges causing you to growl in response. 

"This better not fucking bruise." 

He rolls his eyes, dropping your hands as he reaches down for the old Kimino. His heart racing from almost losing control of these odd feelings. 

Feelings that had never been aimed towards you until your grandmother stirred them up. 

"Would you die for my granddaughter?" 

The question drives him mad, mad enough that he places the kimono in your hands speaking the dark thought that he should have fucking kept to himself.

"Did you actually drag me along for your grandmother's sake or did you just want the kimono, Princess?" His voice is all bite, holding your gaze, your eyes widening. 

"Don't call me that." Your voice threatens to crack but he walks away before he can see the rest of your reaction to wander the house for his room until dinner. 

You're left standing there, eyes glued to the fabric, the deep navy blue and hand stitched cranes and lotus blur in your hands. Before fat droplets fall from your eyes. 

Why did you ever think Bakugou Katsuki would be a good partner, fake or not. 

You collect yourself quickly, angrily swiping at your eyes before you set to find your normal room. 

It doesn't take you long and you're honestly hoping Bakugou stays lost until dinner. His room should be on the opposite wing of the house. Opening the old tatami door to find Mei setting down your stuff and Bakugou's bag.  Mei follows your eyes to the well worn backpack with a skull pin on the strap. She knew exactly who it belonged to when she picked it up, having spotted the handsome devil from the hall. 

"Mei what's this you know he's supposed to be in the western wing!" You exclaim, trudging past her to hang your kimono on the old rack in the corner of the room. Mei scoffs, eyes glued to her phone as she speaks. 

"He was bound to sneak this way anyway. I'm doing you a favor." She rolls her eyes as if she knows everything at the ripe age of sixteen. 

You thought you knew everything then too. You sigh, rolling your own eyes. 

"What you call a favor I call a headache. Just take his bag to his room." You pass the straps to her, hating that it smells so much like him. Your stomach flips even as you look at the two person futon. 

"Just sleep with him tonight no one will know! Plus I hadn't cleaned his room. It's full of spider webs, the floor needs patching and his futon is gonna be dusty." She counters. 

"B..but one futon is not modest." 

"Wow please tell me you're not a virgin jushi. You're gonna get married anyway! I know I wouldn't have said no to a catch like that either!" 

Mei makes her way out of your room while you pinch the bridge or your nose. 

"Yea…. Why would I ever say no to such a great catch?" You fall backwards onto the futon hoping that that asshole was still lost for now. 

Someone would find him wandering and take him to the great dining room. 

×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×

Thankfully someone does end up showing Bakugou to the dining room but of course it would be Mei who also tells him where the SHARED room is. You bite your lip and choose to play dumb.  

"Oh good you found your way, babe." You smile sinking next to him on one of the many blue cushions. He grunts in response but pulls your cushion closer to his. Carefully pouring you some water before he yanks down your tank top that was riding up and trying to expose your midriff. His fingers feel like fire as they brush against your skin, igniting a dying ember in your stomach.

You quickly remind yourself of his nasty comment, as you're about to set him straight your cousin Haru walks into the room.  He sucks his teeth and sits further down the table across from his sister Mei as people slowly come in to sit or bring in food. 

"I don't know why you bothered to bring him here. Sobo is never going to approve of him." He cracks open his beer and drinks prematurely earning an eye roll from his sister. Bakugou and yourself both open your mouth to retort when Mei pipes up. Eyes still glued to her phone as her thumbs fly across the illuminated glass. 

"She already did stupid. She gave her the crane Kimono so get used to seeing his face." Mei rolls her eyes as your cheeks blush. 

Bakugou regrets his comment now more than ever but sucks his own teeth. An older gentleman sits to Bakugou's left commenting on the conversation as he does. 

"Wow the crane kimono! You know she's been holding onto that for quite some time. You must be very special. I'm Sozen, your lovely fiance's Uncle." He smiles, just as you're about pinch the blonde to make sure he answers he gives a small bow of his head. 

"Bakugou Katsuki." He introduces himself as aunt Mai rushes into the room.

"Wait, wait! I want to meet him!" She sinks next to your right, all smiles as her eyes are fixated on the young man, "Wow he is as handsome as you said on the phone last night." 

Fresh blush creeps onto your cheeks, remembering the phone conversation from when you were too nervous to sleep last night. Bakugou catches on and smirks in response. Everyone but Sobo takes their seats and you decide now is a good time as ever to get the formalities over with. 

"Let's just get through the introductions shall we?" You say as you run through the names of each family member on both sides of the three low tables shoved together. Introducing the hot head to well over 12 adults and their children and even children's children. For now Bakugou only makes an effort to remember the ones closest to him. 

Uncle Sozen who sits to his left and Aunt Mai who sits to your right. It's becoming quickly apparent that a lot of your family is either much older or much younger than yourself. He can understand why you could feel a little lonely at times. Being more of a black sheep than anything. Then he realises something very important.

"Wait, where are your parents?" He asks lowly to which you shrug. 

"They show up closer to grandma's birthday. They are both extremely busy and always have been. Soba more or less raised me." 

As if one cue grandmother comes in, looking over the table with the biggest and warmest smile she can muster. It reminds him of the summer sun lazily dancing across his skin in the late afternoon. 

And again it reminds him of you. He looks to you and sees you mirroring the exact same smile, happy for your grandmother's happiness causing his chest to tighten and butterflies to awaken in his stomach. He grinds his teeth in an attempt to calm them down. 

She sits at the head of the table, closest to Great Oba who he had the pleasure of meeting first thing, before grandmother holds up her small cup of sake. 

"To family." She announces, everyone lifts what cup they have, whether it was a kids small sippy cup, their o-choko, or even their cup of tea. 

"To family!" They roar back to her all taking a sip. 

"Let's eat." She says while the family cries out, "Itadakimasu!" 

The tables are loud and full of conversation. Although Katuski's family is not so big, the volume reminds him of his own family. A small smirk comes to his lips as he thinks of his mother and how she would fit in here. 

"So no Shoji?" Haru asks with a sneer, almost purposefully stirring the pot. 

"No surprise there." Someone else comments. 

"Shut. Up. Haru." You bite out, look fierce as if you were to devour him whole. He swallows thickly. 

"Great uncle Kodaka tell us about that battle we won here!" You change the subject and everyone groans as Kodaka starts the story they've heard thousands of times before.

"It was almost 150 years ago, when we were still a prosperous nation. Us samarai doing fine on our own. Hired by the wealthy or living by our own moral compass. It was like fish in a barrel…" 

The story continues on, mostly the children listen and your grandmother who smiles as she hears her youngest speak.

Sozen leans closer to Bakugou, as grey eyes hold onto scarlet. Bakugou remains quiet, glancing to you and then back to the uncle. Uncle Sozen takes this as an invitation to speak. 

"I guess since you're gonna be part of the family now I should tell you about Shoji. There was a time shortly before Grandpa died that he went down a dark path, gambling away majority of the family fortune and just when grams thought she had him under control then came Shoji.He was Grandpa's illegitimate child with a woman much younger than Sobo. But she loved Shoji fiercely anyway. She would take him through the field of wildflowers to the lake in the early mornings of summer. One hot day when he was small and the sun was rising, painting the sky in hues of red there was a crane. Our family's crest." Uncle Sozen points to the wooden crest above the door to the adjacent room that held the family's artifacts. A crane stands tall with a white lotus behind it in full bloom.

"It was the first time in decades that a crane had come to the lake and the lotus were in full bloom. He flew away, causing a gentle ripple in the lake and it was then Sobo knew that Shoji would bring fortune to our family." Sozen peeks your way to make sure you're not over hearing, he continues explaining softly as your loud laugh bellows out, "Everyone is so angry with him because he took the last of grandmother's savings and then ran away to America with no way to be contacted." 

"She is quick to defend him because she was too young to really remember how much it upset Sobo. That and she believed in him wholeheartedly. She looked up to him because despite his quirklessness he was exceptionally intelligent. She had faith that he would restore honor and fortune to our name." Sozen's chopsticks point to you as he speaks before he picks up a dumpling. Bakugou's eyes follow over you. 

"Hello Sobo." A deep voice calls from the engawa reducing the lively roar of dinner conversation to nothing more than the sad song of a lonely cricket.

"Uncle Shoji?!" You call excited, standing from your spot at the long table while the rest of the room holds animosity. 

Bakugou downs his sake to which Uncle Sozen silently refills. 

"I thought you were still abroad in the states!" You sink next to him and pull him into a crushing hug. He smiles, slowly separating the two of you. 

"What the hell do you want trash?!" Uncle Kodaka snarls, to which you produce a deadly glare his way.  

"Well yes I was in the states, thank you for asking Princess." He tucks a stay hair behind your ear before rising to speak with grandmother.

He does not address her properly nor does he bow. If anything he stands loosely with an arrogance about him that leaves majority of the room with a sour taste in their mouth. Bakugou watches Great Oba's chopsticks strain in her delicate hand, the distaste for him is becoming more and more obvious by the second.

And then he opens his mouth. 

"I made tenfold out of what you let me borrow, Soba." He pulls a stack of money and a check from his pocket as he speaks, "I made a drug to make people powerless and sold it to the highest bidder." 

Eyes around the room widen as news headlines flash in their heads about a new drug that made people quirkless. Villains shooting innocent bystanders and heroes in hopes of getting a leg up. 

Shoji tosses the money and the check onto grandmother's lap. Dark brown eyes stare into her lap for a long moment. 

Suddenly grandmother moves like an agile cat, jumping to her feet and grabbing for one of the divine naginata. She wields it masterfully before shoving the point towards him, fire burning in her eyes. 

"Mother!" Half the table shouts, as you begin to see red. You stand stepping next to Shoji, body shaking with rage as your heart drums in your ears. 

"I knew my Princess would save me." He says coyly to hide just how shaken he is, sweat dripping down his brow. Even ten years your senior he couldn't hide his fear of the fierce woman before him, shocked that a woman in her nineties could still brandish such a big and heavy weapon. 

Your hands land harshly on Shoji's chest as you give him a shove. Shocking the table into further silence. 

"YOU MADE THAT?!" Your voice echoes over the dining room, into the empty halls and out into the night but somehow the hurt in it does not reach Shoji. 

"Of course, it was going to be a hot seller. Governments offered me billions. Besides I made an anti...." But before he can finish you've got him by the collar. 

"HOW CAN YOU BE SO INTELLIGENT YET SO DAFT?!" Bakugou watches your knuckles turn white while your cheeks flush deep red. Shoji barely frees himself, his shirt crumpled but you press on. 

"Those were my friends!" A stomp of your foot has the dishes rattling on the table, Bakugou becomes more on edge, "You hurt my fucking friends!" 

You raise both of your fists above your head, ready to bring them down with all of your might. Too angry to control your gauge of power uncaring of the consequences. Katuski acts quickly, flicking his wrist to empty the shallow cup of sake high into the air. Igniting it into beautiful dancing fireworks, the kids oo and ah while he hopes to distract you if only for a moment. 

It works, slightly. You realize his plan as he jumps to his feet, running along the low tables as you try to beat him to the punch. 

Literally.

Bakugou barely makes it, shoving Shoji into the table, food and dishes fly into the air just to stain the freshly mopped wooden floors. The hot head holds out his other arm to take the brunt of your force. He let's off the smallest explosion to soften your blow but a small crack still rings out. 

Heated eyes watch as a black bruise blooms from the crease of his elbow to all the way to his wrist as the shock shakes the house behind him. Paintings and pictures fall from the walls in the wake of your force.

"Are you trying to bring down the house dumbass?!" He yells before his voice dips low, soft almost, "What if the roof had caved and Soba-san got hurt?" 

Your eyes widen at his words before they are locked with glistening scarlet pools. You look over Bakugou's toned arm, marred in angry shades of purplish black. Eyes darting over the family and the mess that lies beside you. Finally they fall on your grandmother behind your shoulder. Her own aged shoulders heave from the adrenaline, her graying white hair out of place with her lotus pin threatening to fall out. You spy Shoji, your once hero still squishing food beneath his torso and elbows, eyes filled with fear.

"Fuck this." You mutter storming off, leaving Bakugou to stand alone before your family. Shoji stands, rushing out of the house, moments later everyone can hear a car peeling down the gravel drive losing traction once or twice. 

After a few moments of silence grandmother fixes her hair and returns the naginata as she speaks. 

"This family cleans up their own messes. Now get to work!" 

And with that your family and Bakugou begin to pick up the shattered pieces of dishes, pride and family matters.

[yungidreamer]

Fragile

Summary: It’s fall in Paris and the jazz club Le Chat Noir is bored immortal vampire Yunho’s favorite hunting grounds. Among the crush of bodies, there to see the show and dance the night away, San takes a seat at his table. Will San get more than he bargained for when he accepts a drink and a dance with the handsome stranger at the hottest place in town?

Wordcount: 5.9k

Content warnings: very much NSFW, vampire bites and blood drinking, references to casual sex with multiple partners, slightly subby San, slightly dom Yunho, oral sex, hand job, the risk of death, and two hedonists seeking pleasure with each other. It is heavily implied that both San and Yunho are bi/pan in orientation.

La Chat Noir, Paris France, 1924

Music flowed through the air of the club, moving languorously as if the smoke in the air slowed its passage. A faint buzzing sound hid behind it thanks to the low light of the new fangled bulbs that were tucked into sconces on the walls that mimicked the old gas lights that had been in use a mere decade or so ago. Such a small amount of time, Yunho sighed. Some days he missed their constant hiss, that sound just felt...calming. Like a constant whisper, telling the secrets of the nightowls and scoundrels who stayed out in the city during those hours that belonged to people like him.

Still, the place was as good a hunting ground as he had ever found. People didn’t change. They were always chasing that moment of pleasure that made their short existence worthwhile. Always drinking, gorging and *ahem* loving their way through life as much as their status and circumstances would allow. So small, so finite, so… fragile. It was sad really. They seemed to struggle, at odds with the desire to live like they only had today while, nearly simultaneously, trying to live those mere 100 years some of them might have. If they were lucky. Though why they would want to live so long as their bodies deteriorated with each passing day was beyond him.

Eternity was bad enough with eternal youth. When you had to age. Yunho shuddered.

Pushing through the crush of youth, Yunho made his way towards the bar. The smell of bodies, sweat and skin, mixed with the tobacco of cigars and thin cigarettes all of the liberated women kept between their manicured fingers as they drank and laughed. Over that drifted the smell of whiskey, wine, and whatever spirits the bartenders were deciding to experiment with tonight.

Perfumes swam by on the air that surrounded their wearers. Musk, ambergris, vetiver, and hints of the sharp floral notes of women who still wore the classic rose or jasmine. With each one that passed Yunho couldn’t help but pause for half a second to see how well it matched the wearer. Was it a scent that accentuated the character of whoever it was on, or was it a mask; something false they put on as they tried to pretend, just for tonight they weren’t some nameless bookkeeper on the third floor of one of the new steel and glass monstrosities that reached vainly for the sky?

In the back of the last room he found a small round table, flicking over the little card that said Reserved as he took his seat. It was his table, it was always his table. From here he could watch the throngs kick and sway on the open dance floor, or the beautiful dancers as they performed their numbers to the music of the band. He absolutely loved their outfits, all silk and beading, showing so much of their delicate skin.

Maybe some things are improving with time, he reflected, sipping his Southside. Little of the taste came through to his taste buds, but the chill of the mint slid down his throat and the sharp tannin of the lime was tacky on his tongue. Plus, his trifles seemed to enjoy the freshness it brought to his lips and who was he to deny them that last… little… pleasure.

On the floor in the glare of the spotlight two sisters danced in unison in their feathers and silk. The rhinestones on their belts and cloche hats glinted as they moved to the music, flashing lushous stretches of their shapely legs. This was their third night performing at the club and word had gotten around. The club had filled just a little more with each passing night with everyone who wanted to catch the appropriately risque performance. Gentlemen brought their friends, and occasionally, the lady they hoped to sway with the low lights, the free music of the jazz, and the sensual movements of the dancers.

The more free spirited women came in small groups, and very occasionally, alone. Finally they were allowed to go out as they pleased, they could have jobs, smoke, and support themselves. The freedom was well deserved, if not always well or wisely used. Then again, who was he, or anyone else frankly, to tell them what to do with that freedom. Over the centuries he had certainly seen plenty of men squander that precious thing called freedom. Perhaps, if fate had changed by just a hair, he would have been one of the poor souls, living and dying in a flash, leaving barely a trace of his existence. But, fate had chosen a different path for him and instead he had seen centuries pass before him, time flowing like a rushing river. It was all much the same even if he could never step into the same stream twice.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice asked, rising just high enough over the hum of the room to reach his ear. Yunho looked up to find a young man with sharp features standing near the back of the chair on the other side of the table. A quirk turned the corner of Yunho’s lips as he gave him an assessing look. It was brave of him to come and ask to share the table; it reeked of a confidence that Yunho liked.

“Please,” Yunho gestured to the chair, sitting up just a shade straighter. The young man nodded, gracefully slipping into the black lacquer chair. He was dressed in a fashionable suit in crisp black and white, perhaps stylish but not rich. Yunho didn’t think he had seen him before; he seemed like the sort he would have remembered. His hair was dark and glossy, almost like the chair he had taken a seat in. It was cut in a clean, modern style that made him look like he belonged in a place like this. His face was lovely, high cheekbones and smooth creamy skin that seemed to shine from the inside out with that warm glow that only health and youth could bestow.

“Are they as good as they have been hyped up to be?” The young man asked, keeping his narrow, dark eyes on the ladies in the spotlight.

“They are good,” Yunho agreed, leaning in so he didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard. He sipped from his glass, held with a blase confidence using only two fingers, eyes staying on his table companion.

“They’re beautiful,” He commented, sparing a glance for Yunho as he too leaned in towards the table.

“They’re pretty enough, and lovely in their shape,” Yunho agreed, though his eyes seemed unwilling to look back at the subjects of whom he spoke.

“The music is quite good as well, isn’t it?” He asked, trying not to look like he had noticed the gaze on him.

“It’s… intoxicating,” Yunho agreed. “Can I ask your name?”

“San,” the young man answered. “Choi San.”

“Hello San,” Yunho extended his free hand over the table to him. “I’m Yunho.”

“Nice to meet you,” San took the extended hand, giving it a firm, confident shake. Yunho held onto the warm hand just a couple of seconds longer than he ought to, enjoying the dry warmth of the other man’s palm in his. San let him, only drawing his hand back when Yunho let go.

“Are you new around here?” Yunho asked, curious about the man across from him for a number of reasons.

“Just moved here a few months ago,” San nodded. “Got my first job as a law clerk. The money is good enough and if I do well enough the prospects for promotion are good.”

“How fortunate you are,” Yunho smiled, tipping his glass to him encouragingly.

“My parents were happy enough,” San gave a small chuckle. “After all they spent on my education, they feel like I owe them nothing less.”

“Such dullards aren’t they,” Yunho commiserated. “Stuck in the past along with all of their ideas and mores.”

“Well, they certainly wouldn’t think a place like this is where I ought to be spending my time or money,” San agreed, happy to have found a comrade in arms.

“What’s the point in youth if you waste it shut in offices and school rooms,” Yunho asked rhetorically, a hand under his chin.

“Exactly,” San gave a single nod. “I work hard. I can spend my free time doing something fun, whatever that may be.”

“Is this your idea of fun?” There was a teasing edge to Yunho’s voice, like the cool touch of a blade as it brushed flesh without cutting it.

“Not sure yet,” San sat forward, giving Yunho an assessing look as he moved his chin to rest on the heel of his hand. “It’s my first time here, but at least the company seems promising.”

“Would you like something; a drink?” Yunho questioned, emptying the last of his drink from his glass.

“I can--” San started to stand before Yunho stopped him, simply raising a hand and, a moment later, almost as if she had been conjured from nothingness, a waitress appeared beside them.

“Two more,” Yunho said, passing her the empty glass. Without a word she nodded and walked away to do as she had been bid. It didn’t take long for their drinks to appear and Yunho picked his up, offering a silent toast to San before taking a sip. San followed suit, bringing the drink to his lips.

“This is quite good,” San said, looking at the drink again, after having had a taste.

“Isn’t it?” Yunho agreed. “Refreshing.”

“Yes,” San nodded, taking another sip as he noticed the light dim as the spotlight was snuffed. As the dancers left the floor he observed, “They were decent but maybe they didn’t quite live up to the hype.”

“Life rarely does,” a jadedness filled Yunho’s tone.

“Do you really find life here so dreary?” San felt a sympathy for him, slightly sad that the other man seemed to feel the world was so dull.

“Often,” Yunho admitted. “But sometimes there is a glimmer of intrigue to things.”

“I hope I won’t find myself so easily bored by the attractions of life here,” San chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” Yunho promised. “I’m a bit of a special case. I have perhaps seen too much to find fascination so easily anymore.” The band struck up again and the lights raised enough to allow people to get up and make their way onto the dance floor. Couples made their way out onto the floor that had been the platform for the performance. The low light and the slow jazz made the room feel small and intimate even as the couples brushed against one another on the dance floor.

“Would you like to dance with me?” Yunho asked, leaning as close as he could to whisper the question.

“Can we?” San’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion.

“No one judges here,” Yunho assured him. “Look.” He gestured out to the floor and San’s gaze followed. Nestled in among the pairs of men and women were a few pairs of girls, arms clinging as they danced closely, and men swaying in each other's arms. Surprise flickered across San’s face. These things, they just weren’t usually done, and yet…

“Shall we?” Yunho stood up and extended a hand to San. For a beat, he just looked at it. Did he dare? Pressing his lips into a hard line, San stood up and took Yunho’s hand. With a victorious grin, Yunho led San out onto a dim corner of the dance floor.

San hadn’t noticed just how tall Yunho was when he was just sitting across from him. It was only when the other man pulled him more tightly against his body as they squeezed in among the other pairs, that he noticed how Yunho towered over him by a decent amount. San swallowed past his nerves and snaked his arms around the other man’s waist and chest. 

Yunho held him close, pressing the side of his jaw to the other man’s temple and breathing in the smell of him. Everything about San was warm and vibrant including his scent. He wore no cologne, not trying to disguise himself or be anything more than he was. Beneath the faint smell of soap was the scent of him, of his skin. Cedar and sage with notes of grapefruit and lime, and somewhere below that was something warm and masculine… like the old leather of an armchair in a study that had taken on a hint of the cigars that had been smoked there over the years.

Yunho’s mouth practically watered, knowing that San would taste so very good. He would be warm and nourishing, bringing Yunho that little step closer to feeling alive again. It wasn’t that he missed that fragile mortality that he had lost so long ago. Rather he loved that heat. The borrowed, clandestine taste of vitality. He could have both if he chose; immortality and that feel of his heart beating in his chest. Well, for a moment at least.

One song bled into a second and a third as an hour ticked by nearly unnoticed by the pair. The couples around them came and went, getting a little more drunk and a little more boisterous as the time passed.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” Yunho murmured into the shell of San’s ear before pulling back and hooking his finger under San’s chin to bring his eyes up to meet his own. San gave a brief nod and Yunho smiled, leaning down to brush a barely there kiss to the corner of San’s mouth.

“Your place?” Yunho proposed, offering an inviting smile. San nodded again, his gaze falling hungrily to Yunho’s lips. Leading the way through the crowd, Yunho took them both out onto the street, hailing the first passing cab.

Yunho pressed San back against the door to his apartment in the dimly lit hall of his floor. He let out a small moan as he fumbled in his pocket for the key he knew was there. Yunho’s lips on his were insistent even as they moved at a leisurely pace against his own. San had always had wants, desires, but never dared to act on them. Women were pretty, they were attractive, too, but there had always been that part of him that couldn’t help but watch as a confident man walked by. That confident swagger of a guy who knew exactly how sexy he was; it just set something in his stomach tingling.

San pulled away when he finally felt the cool metal in his palm, just enough to work the key in the lock with his slightly shaking hands. The door popped open and Yunho pushed them both inside the small studio that was San’s place. It was dim, only lit at the moment by the shine of the streetlights outside the single window on the wall opposite the door. Clicking the door closed behind them, Yunho pulled San tightly against him. He was hungry for him in more way than one.

San groped for the switch on the wall, reluctant to pull away from the embrace of the other man. He was afraid if he gave them too much space, a second to think at just the wrong moment, whatever was going to happen… wouldn’t. Giving up on the switch, San guided the other man towards the small brass framed bed located towards one side of the room. He pulled him along, guiding him without pulling away until he felt the edge of the frame hit the back of his calves. Dropping to a sitting position on the bed, San started fumbling with the button at the waist of Yunho’s pants.

“There’s no rush,” Yunho chuckled, putting his long elegant fingers over San’s, stilling them.

“Sorry,” San said quietly, thankful for the darkness that would hide his blush, or it would have, to someone other than a vampire. Yunho found it charming, almost quaint, how eager and yet shy he was. This clearly wasn’t a regular thing for him, unlike Yunho. It wasn’t that any warm body was good, but almost any would do and some he felt better about leaving half drained in some dark room than others. He’d try to be careful with San, after all, it might actually be nice to see him again sometime and that couldn’t happen with a body in the morgue.

Yunho took a seat, the springs of the bed creaking under their combined weight. Leaning in, Yunho cupped San’s cheek, guiding his face back to his for another kiss. San gladly leaned in to his slightly chilled lips, something he attributed to the chill of the fall weather outside. 

Yunho’s fingers brushed over his cheek and down to hold the side of his neck, feeling the soft, warm pulse just below. Following the same path as his fingers, Yunho’s lips brushed over the flushed skin until he found the right place. He licked, his teeth gently running over it, testing the other man’s reaction. The last thing he needed was to have him pull away, rip the tender flesh of his own neck open with a careless yank. When San only moaned and tilted his head to give the other man better access, Yunho took that as permission to have just a little taste.

As he sucked in a small bit of San’s flesh into his mouth his hand traveled down over the other man’s chest to tentatively rest on the growing erection still hidden beneath the soft wool of his suit. San sucked in his breath but didn’t pull away. Yunho bit down, feeling the trickle of blood spill into his mouth as he palmed San’s member. He felt it twitch as he fed from him, pleasure slinking through him with each gulping tug of Yunho’s mouth as he drank. He needed just enough for now, enough to warm his skin and fill his aching member to fullness. Tonight he wanted to have everything. With a lick he closed the cuts on San’s neck and pulled back to look at him, still flushed, still beautiful in his youthfulness.

San took a deep breath, the ripples of pleasure still rebounding in him. He couldn’t help but wonder why he had stopped. Had he done something wrong. Feeling inexplicably tired, he had to make an effort to open his eyes and look up into the gaze of the man beside him. Yunho smiled down at him with lips that San would swear looked a little sweeter, a little fuller, a little pinker than they had a few moments ago. It’s the aphrodisiac of the pleasure, it’s all in your head, he told himself.

“Can I touch you?” San asked, his dark eyes searching Yunho’s for signs that he was having second thoughts.

“Please,” Yunho agreed, guiding San’s hand to his now full erection. San went to his knees on the oak parquet that covered the floor of his apartment. His fingers, still feeling a little shaky, went to the warm black bone button that held the waistband of Yunho’s pants closed. It only took a second for him to slip the fastening through the slit in the fine fabric. With his fly open, Yunho lifted his hips to allow San to pull the clothes on the lower half of his body down and off, letting them pool around his ankles as the other man took a moment to gather his courage. Not yet ready to look up as butterflies fluttered in his stomach, San took a moment to gently pull off Yunho’s shoes, socks, and pants, carefully placing them near the foot of the bed on the floor. He turned, finally looking up to see Yunho, his shirt half unbuttoned from his collar down, leaning back casually, his long, hard dick framed by the inverted V from the last button on the placket as it opened down to the lower hem. He had never seen anything so tempting in his life. From the muscled smoothness of his chest and the breadth of his still covered shoulders, to his thick muscular thighs, Yunho was temptation.

“Won’t you taste me?” Yunho asked, running the fingertips of one hand up the inside of his thigh. San nodded, scooting forward and sitting on his heels to bring himself just a little higher between Yunho’s legs. Using one hand for leverage, San wrapped the other around the base of Yunho’s cock and brought it to his lips. He had never tasted another man, but, having been on the other end of such a thing more than once, he had a fair idea of where to start. Taking just the head into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the tip. Yunho let out the sweetest low, rumbling moan San had ever heard.

The hand on Yunho’s thigh dropped so that San could reach down and stroke himself lightly, needing just a little relief, a little sensation as he strained against his pants. When Yunho’s hand caressed his cheek, San opened his eyes to look at him up the plane of his body. A shock of lust pooled in his stomach and he slid his mouth further down, watching pleasure flow across the features of the other man, lit only in profile from the dim light outside. The dimness and quiet of the room somehow made every sound, every movement just that shade more intense.

“You have a wonderful mouth,” Yunho complemented, a breathlessness suffusing his voice. Part of San wanted to say thank you, but most of him just wanted to show the other man just how good his mouth was. Sinking down until the tip brushed against the back of his throat, San tested his limits. He wanted all of him, he wanted to devour him with pleasure, but Yunho was not small. He wasn’t even average, if San would have taken a guess based on himself and on peeks he had gotten of others. Yunho was big, and even when he had sunk down until he felt him fill his mouth and brush the soft skin at the back of his throat, he had barely taken 2/3rds of him in.

San bobbed up and down a few more times, practicing letting his jaw move loosely over Yunho’s length as he built up a slick of saliva that eased his movements. Trying again, San sunk down to see how far he could go, pushing past that discomfort to feel the head slide down against the back of his throat. A tickle built in his throat and tears pooled in his eyes as he pulled off to cough.

“It’s okay, sweets,” Yunho leaned forward, cradling San’s teary cheeks in his hands. “I know I’m big, it feels good even if you can’t take it all.”

“I—” San started before the tickle built back up and he had to cough again, sniffling as his nose ran slightly from the sensation and his tears. “I know, but I like the feel of you, I like the way you slide into me.”

“Just don’t force yourself,” Yunho agreed, swiping away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. “We have time and those sweet lips feel wonderful wrapped around me.” San nodded, blinking away the blur to his vision a few more times before he parted his lips and took Yunho back in his mouth, a little more cautiously this time.

Sliding his head up and down what he could take of his length, San sucked and licked and tasted the salty treat that was Yunho. As he worked him, he could taste the gooey tang of his pre-cum coating his tongue now and again as his pleasure built. Yunho watched him, eyes hooded as the sight of San throwing himself into what he was doing with near abandon added to the rising tide of pleasure that was flooding him.

San still pushed himself, diving down the length of Yunho until he couldn’t struggle past his length and gagged or had his throat spasm at the invasion. Each time Yunho groaned, often twitching at the sensation of the muscles in San’s throat stroking him. When he managed to slide him particularly far down his throat he was rewarded with the sight of Yunho throwing his head back and letting out a breathless gasp.

“Ahh, fuck,” he panted, one hand gripping the sheets and another fisting in San’s soft hair. “I’m close… I’m so close.” San took this as encouragement, moving faster, then, going as deeply as he could and pausing for as long as his body would let him. It took only a few times of San repeating this to push Yunho over the edge and he was rewarded with the feel of the pulsing gush of the other man coming down his throat. It was warm and slick and moved slowly as it slid down into him, savoring the sensation.

“You’re an angel,” Yunho praised, guiding San off him and bringing his pink, swollen lips to his own for a kiss. He licked away a little of the saliva that glistened on the lower lip of the man still kneeling between his legs. He could still taste a little of himself there as well, an enchanting addition to the sweetness of the other man’s hot lips.

“Can you touch me?” San asked, steadying himself by putting his hands on Yunho’s spread knees.

“Come sit with me,” Yunho coaxed. San nodded, wiping the dampness off his chin and he pulled himself up. He started to move to take a seat beside Yunho on the bed, but, catching him by the wrist, the other man guided him to sit between his spread legs. Yunho’s hands went to San’s chest, pressing him back against him. San relaxed in his arms enjoying just the moment of being held in the other man’s long and lean arms.

“Do you mind if I undress you?” Yunho asked, running his hand down over San’s taught stomach. San nodded, using his own hand to press Yunho’s more firmly against his own body. Yunho chuckled, pressing a kiss to the other man’s temple before he freed his hands to start working on removing the slightly rumpled looking suit. His fingers were quick and efficient with the buttons at the front of his shirt, flicking them open with barely any effort. When the shirt was completely open, Yunho slid it and the jacket off San’s muscular shoulders, bearing his smooth and muscular chest to the room. Yunho hooked them both to the nob of the headboard, letting them hang so they wouldn’t get any more wrinkled than they already were. When that was done, he brought his hands back to San’s smooth body, letting his palms run over the line of his ribs and down to his hips, before making their way forward to the fastening at the front of his pants. Yunho couldn’t stop himself from running a teasing hand over the front of his trousers to feel the tempting length just barely hidden there.

“Lift for me,” Yunho instructed when he had undone San’s pants and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of both his pants and underwear. San eagerly lifted his hips, pushing his weight onto his hands and feet to allow Yunho to slide the fabric down and let his erection spring forth. When he put his weight back down, Yunho pulled him back into the V of his thighs and against his half bared chest as San kicked off the last of his clothes.

“Can… can you take off your shirt?” San asked without turning around, having felt the abrasion of the round buttons against his shoulder blade.

“Of course,” Yunho pressed a kiss to San’s bare shoulder, then leaned back enough to finish opening the last of the buttons before taking his shirt off and tossing it onto one corner of the foot of the bed. With both of them fully naked, Yunho scooted back until he could feel the wall against his back, scooping San into the cradle of his body so that he could resume his exploration of his form.

“Please touch me,” San breathed, leaning his head back against Yunho’s broad shoulder. “It feels like I’ve been waiting so long.” San’s restless hands moved up and down the textured length of Yunho’s hard thighs.

“I will, sweet,” Yunho soothed. “I just want to get to know you.” San could feel the smile that pressed against the side of his face as Yunho spoke. He felt harder than he could ever remember feeling and his body begged for release. Yunho could sense his impatience. It was written into every squirm and the tense line of his body. “Shhhhh,” he soothed, rubbing his nose in the loose locks of San’s hair.

“Just hold me, there,” he pleaded, guiding Yunho’s hand to his length. “You don’t have to move yet, but just touch me.”

“Alright,” Yunho agreed, his hand loosely gripping San’s hot, hard erection. It was soft under his hand, like velvet or suede covered steel. San let out a tense sigh, closing his eyes and enjoying the way Yunho’s slightly cooler hand seemed to envelop him. Keeping his grip light, Yunho moved his hand up and down, letting that first hint of sensation tingle over San’s nerves, half teasing and half relief. His other hand held San to him on his chest, just the tip of one finger moving to abrade the hardened nipple it could reach. Goosebumps rose on San’s skin and he shivered under the combination of sensations. San’s fingers gripped Yunho’s thighs just above the knees with a careless strength that would have left fingermark bruises on anyone else. Luckily Yunho couldn’t bruise, not that easily at least, and he loved the feedback that was telling him he was touching him just right.

“Tilt your head a little,” Yunho coaxed. “I want to reach your neck.”

San gladly tilted his head to the side, his member twitching just at the memory of the sensation of whatever he had done to his neck before. Yunho brushed his lips over the pulse in San’s neck as he began to move his hand a little faster, his grip just a little tighter as he did so. San moaned and shifted impatiently under the touch. Everything felt so good and he wasn’t sure why. It hadn’t been that long since he had been satisfied and by more than just his own hand. And it had been good, she had been good. The faint memory of sucking a soft nipple on the soft mound of a breast fluttered through his mind, as transient and insubstantial as a leaf caught in the draft of a strong gust that dies as quickly as it rose.

The sensation of Yunho running the pad of his thumb over the slick slit of his tip brought him back to the present. San sighed, his toes curling at the sensation. Pleasure washed through him, stealing his breath and stopping his mind from focusing on anything outside of the circle of Yunho’s arms.

Yunho’s lips teased the soft skin just under San’s ear, taking in his scent as he waited for the moment to bite. He wanted to feed at the moment he came, extending that pleasure and sweetening the taste of his blood with the rush of adrenaline and delight. Slowly increasing the pace of his movements, he varied his attention between stroking the whole length and giving the tip special attention, careful to not go to the point of over stimulating it.

“I’m so close,” San brought a hand up to hold the back of Yunho’s head as his lips sucked harder at the skin of his neck. “Please, whatever you did before, I want it again.”

“Patience, sweet,” Yunho hummed against him. “Almost there. Almost.” In a moment the pleasure suddenly crested and San held his breath as that first second of pleasure shocked through him before Yunho bit down. The bite magnified the sensation, making it reverberate through him with the resonance of a pitchfork struck against a hard surface.

Yunho sucked and fed, pulling every ounce of pleasure he could from San as he did so. San seemed frozen under his touch, unable to do more than just feel the power and the delight as it danced along every nerve in his body. It only faded as his limbs grew heavy and black spots began to float in patches in his vision. 

Yunho closed the wounds and pulled away when he felt and heard that tell-tale stutter in the beat of San’s heart. He could continue. He could draw out that pleasure until the thudding stopped. It would be so easy and San was such a willing victim. He would never find it in himself in that moment to utter the word stop. It just felt too good. But Yunho did, he pulled back, holding San as he went limp, losing consciousness and falling into a blackness that was deep and quiet.

His heartbeat was slow but steady and Yunho was relatively certain that he would wake sometime tomorrow, perhaps sore and surprised to feel so hungover when he only had that one drink. Yunho gently laid him down in the bed, drawing the covers up over his beautiful naked body, making sure that he was in something that looked like a comfortable position. As he looked down, in his chest, his heart moved faintly in something that could almost be mistaken for beating. Almost.

Picking up his clothes, he carefully redressed, trying to look his best, despite a few wrinkles and creases that were too stubborn to be pulled or brushed away. He paused at a mirror, smoothing down his hair again, leaving it almost looking untouched by the events of the night. Casting a glance back at the man lying so prettily unconscious in the bed, Yunho couldn’t help but smile.

Going over to the desk, Yunho shuffled through a few drawers before he found a small pad of paper with a page he could rip out to scribble something.

I hope the morning finds you well, he wrote in a flowing hand that belied his age if someone paid enough attention. If you ever feel like a repeat performance, you know where to find me. He signed the bottom of the page with an ornate Y before picking up the page and folding it in half. Taking a moment, he neatly arranged San’s discarded clothes in the hopes it would make his morning just a little bit more pleasant. He pocketed the key taking it from San’s pocket where he had slipped it after letting them in. Taking the note, he slipped it into one of San’s shoes, sure that it would be secure there and not lost in the shuffle of papers that might belong on one of the counters in his home.

With one last caress of the other man’s cheek, Yunho stood up and quietly made his way to the front door. Slipping out into the hall, he clicked the door shut behind him, turning the key in the lock before dropping it back inside though the mail slot. With a fresh vigor and a skip in his step, and with the faint smell of cedar and sage clinging to him, Yunho made his way out of the apartment building and onto the cool, damp streets of Paris in fall. It really had been the best night he’d had in ages. With any luck, someday soon, that sweet, fragile man would step back into Le Chat Noir and back into his life. Until then, he’d have to be satisfied with other passing fancies and the memory of a very lovely night.

Masterlist

[solarscholarsofmagick]

few people have come to me asking for recommended reading regarding astrology, and my answer is constantly changing, as it really depends on your level of knowledge. So here I’m going to share a few of my favorites off my Astrology bookshelves (yes, I have more than one shelf dedicated to astrology). This is a guide for the self-made, self-taught astrologer! - Our Astrologer, Cosmic Love

1.

For Beginners! Learn this name. Linda Goodman. This woman was my introduction to astrology. I read her book, Sun Signs, when I was 8 years old and it hooked me. This book came out in 1968 and was the first book on astrology to reach the New York Times Best-Seller list. Her writing is very clear to complete beginners, and entertaining to read even for more experienced astrology students. Her writing style reminded me of my grandmother, who gave me the book, so it was a very familiar-feeling and easy-to-read book.

2.

Many of you will recognize the name “Llewellyn” if you’re involved in the metaphysical or magickal community in any way. They have a great introductory book on astrology, called Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Astrology: The Easy Way To Learn Astrology. It is a good resource for anyone learning astrology, and will give you a decent grasp of the basic factors involved in a chart.

3.

Another great resource for any astrologer looking to learn is Astrology: Understanding The Birth Chart by Kevin Burk. This book has a lot of very useful information and is an excellent tool, especially for those interested in a more classical approach to astrology. This book is aimed less at modern astrology, and more at the carefully calculated science that ancient astrologers practiced in Greece.

4.

One of my personal favorite textbook-like astrology books is A Spiritual Approach to Astrology, by Myrna Lofthus. This is an incredible book with a whole load of information useful to any level astrologer. It even includes a spiritual view on aspects and placements. This book dives into overviews of the planets, signs and houses as well as aspects from a karmic and spiritual perspective. If you’re looking for soul development, this is your astrology bible.

5.

I found this next one at a garage sale one day for $1 and just had to call it destiny. The Compleat Astrologer, by Derek & Julia Parker, was published in 1971, and was such a great find! It’s a beautifully illustrated collector’s book with lots of good information for the beginning astrologer. It goes through the signs one by one and includes a historical timeline of astrology and “The Astrological Ages of Man,” which the history buff inside me finds incredibly fascinating! Maybe I’ll do a blog post on astrological ages of man soon…

6.

One of my more recent favorites, The Astrology of Fate by Liz Greene, presents astrology from a somewhat classical perspective, yet also slightly modern in her psychological analysis. She uses Greek myths and ancient archetypes to describe the patterns of the planets involved in major life events and makes some very interesting connections! This book also gives many examples and may use technical jargon, so I recommend this book for after you’ve read the previous books listed.

7.

I personally did not have as much interest in this book, but it is a good beginner resource, so I feel obligated to list it here. The Inner Sky by Steven Forrest was recommended to me by a friend years ago, and I didn’t connect very well with his writing style, but he does have great information here. Steven Forrest also has a whole series of astrology books for different levels of learning, so there is something for everyone with his work.

8.

An excellent book for anyone struggling to understand the concept of the houses and their themes, The Twelve Houses by Howard Sasportas is a wonderfully informative book specifically about the houses and the planets throughout the houses. This has some great information on aspect patterns involving houses as well.

9, 10, 11.

There is a series of astrology handbooks by Frances Sakoian and Louis S. Acker, all of them very good resources. First, there’s The Astrologer’s Handbook, which focuses mainly on natal chart interpretation. The next one I would look into is Predictive Astrology, which mainly focuses on the meanings of transits. Then there’s another book on reading synastry charts (relationship astrology) called The Astrology of Human Relationships.

12.

If you’re interested in learning specifically about the ancient Hellenistic tradition of astrology, this list would not be complete without Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune by Chris Brennan. This book is a textbook for the ancient Hellenistic way of learning astrology, complete with chart examples and analyses. Chris Brennan offers astrology courses on his website as well and is the host of The Astrology Podcast.

13.

Another one, Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Predictive Astrology: The Easy Way To Predict Your Future, is a good resource for beginners of predictive work. It has a lot of information and great example charts to help grasp confusing concepts.

14.

Another great book is Predictive Astrology: The Eagle And The Lark by Bernadette Brady. This one has a huge amount of information stuffed into such a tiny package. It includes descriptions of the planets, signs and aspects and how they translate to predictive work. It also includes transits and progressions, as well as time maps, transit grids, and how to use them all.

15.

One book I’ve worn out with predictive astrology is Planets in Solar Returns: Yearly Cycles of Transformation and Growth by Mary Fortier Shea. This book is specifically written for solar return charts, but has some very helpful information on how to translate a solar return into something that makes sense. This book includes placements as well as aspects.

16.

Another great book on solar return predictions is The New Solar Return Book of Prediction by Raymond A. Merriman. This book goes into all kinds of detail regarding solar return charts and how to interpret them.

17.

For a great guide book on transits and progressions to natal planets and points, look for Roadmap To Your Future by Bernie Ashman. It contains symbolism of all of the planets, example charts, as well as a description of all of the transits and progressions.

18, 19.

If you’re interested more in Vedic astrology, check out volumes 1 and 2 of Brihat Parasara Hora Sastra: A Compendium in Vedic Astrology. This massive collection of knowledge may be a little advanced for those just starting in astrology, but if you’re already familiar with the basics of Vedic astrology, go ahead and give it a shot!

20.

For people interested in predicting events with astrology, I have a few books that have helped me! First, Predicting Events With Astrology by Celeste Teal. This book is textbook-like and very informative regarding predictive astrology. It goes over using decans as well, which is very important in getting specific information from a chart.

21.

For those of you interested in a karmic approach to astrology, Astrology, Karma & Transformation: The Inner Dimensions of the Birth Chart by Stephen Arroyo is a great informative read, and includes the karmic ideas of the outer planets and their transits. Also, any and all of the Karmic Astrology series by Martin Schulman. I still haven’t been able to get all of this collection, but I have a few and they’ve all been quite interesting to read.

22, 23.

For anyone interested in the complex world of medical astrology, I have two books to recommend. First, Your Health in Your Horoscope: Introduction to Medical Astrology by Stefan Stenudd. This book is a great introduction, as it says in the title, but doesn’t get into extensive medical correspondences and specifics. I just ordered The Encyclopedia of Medical Astrology by Howard Leslie Cornell, and I’m so excited to see what information it holds for me!

24.

Anyone who likes lists and textbook learning will love The Rulership Book by Rex E. Bills. This book is essentially a book of lists relating to astrology. It includes correspondence lists for each sign, planet and house, as well as a “dictionary” in the beginning to look up almost anything you can think of. I use this book ALL the time when writing my articles as well as for reference sometimes when I’m blocked reading a chart. I highly recommend this one; I feel it’s essential for any astrologer to have.

25.

For tarot readers out there, I just bought a book called Tarot and Astrology: Enhance Your Readings With The Wisdom Of the Zodiac by Corrine Kenner. This book is excellent for those with an understanding of tarot who are trying to learn astrology to help their readings. It has tables for reference as well as corresponding cards for each sign and planet placement. Very useful book already and I’ve barely even gotten a chance to read through it yet!

26.

Another book I just bought and am already enjoying is Pam Gregory’s You Don’t Really Believe in Astrology, Do You? I really love a good astrology book that gets technical with things. Pam Gregory is someone I’ve already been following on YouTube and online, and now I’m so excited to be reading her book!

27.

For anyone looking for information on working with the Moon’s timing, Living By The Moon: A Practical Guide for Choosing the Right Time by Ute York is an excellent addition to your library! A must-have, in fact. This book packs all kinds of lunar information into a small package and isn’t astrologically complex at all, so any level of astrologer can use it!

There are a few more on my shelf that are great books, too, but I think this is enough for a good, well-rounded reading list. I hope this list will be a helpful tool for your journey of self-discovery and healing, and I hope that you continue to learn the path of the stars!

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[pietromelim]

"Family" a short story with Jesse and Grace Blackthorn!

Jesse stared at the blue sky,it was a sunny day in Idris today,even though he was not allowed to step outside.

His mother,Tatiana,wanted him to avoid sun at any cost. She feared it would do harm to his pale skin. It was hard to feel like a normal boy when treated like that.

He perfectly knew his health wasn't as good as of any other boys his age that lived in Idris. Still,he just wanted to do something different for a change.

If Tatiana only knew how lonely he felt. Of course,she was there,and she would always be. But Tatiana was excellent in keeping secrets,and there was only so much a 14 year old boy could talk about with his mother.

But today was already going to be a different day. Tatiana was not at home in the moment. She had told him he was going to meet someone today,which made Jesse feel quite curious.

It was no surprise to him that his mother avoided the entire family. He had seen the faces of his uncles once,but never met them. Gideon and Gabriel Lightwood were wicked men,as she would say.

Jesse didn't knew what to think of them. And he was quite sure Tatiana would never change. He would never meet his cousins,or have any friends.

He was her lonely prince in that castle of vines,briars and cobwebs. Anyone who would try to reach them would feel the deadly embrace of the thorns that surrounded the Manor.

Jesse looked at the front gates,the carriage near it. His mother had returned. She didn't took that long.

It was hard to explain. Even if his mother were there,he would still feel as if he would always be alone.

He could hear the sound of the door as it opened,and footsteps as well. His mother's voice echoed afterwards.

-Jesse! My beautiful boy,come downstairs please!-She said.

Meeting someone was the weirdest feeling for Jesse. He was not used to it at all. Should he have any expectations? Would the person have expectations about him? It was uneasy for sure.

He had put his shoes on and went downstairs. Perhaps this could end quickly.

As he got in the living room,he saw Tatiana,standing in her grey dress that once was pink,and her strange hat with a bird in it. She looked pleased,something that was quite unusual.

What caught Jesse's attention was the little girl standing beside his mother.

She was small,probably had 7 or 8 years. She was dressed in white,her hair was silver blond,her eyes the color of steel. She looked perfectly composed.

-Yes,mother?-Jesse said,uncertain of what to say.

-Jesse,remember that i had told you that you would be meeting someone today? Introduce yourself.-Tatiana said,looking at the girl.

She took steps toward Jesse's direction. She was quite gracious,even the way she walked.

-Hello. My name is Grace.-She said.

Jesse kneeled,so that he could look at her properly.

-Hello Grace. I'm Jesse. It is very nice to meet you.-Jesse said,kissing Grace's hand. She smiled,a weak but sincere smile.

-Jesse,Grace is in desperate need for a playmate. Perhaps you could play with her,just for a little bit? I allow you to go outside,but don't leave the Manor.-Tatiana said.

Jesse stared at his mother. That was the weirdest request she had ever done to him. Was he only supposed to entertain this girl?

-Sure. Come on Grace.-Jesse said. Grace held his hand and they went outside.

Grace looked at him,her eyes full of curiosity. Perhaps she was asking herself if he truly wanted to play with her. And that was fair,because Jesse wasn't sure what to do either.

-So Grace,tell me,how have you met my mother?-Jesse asked. He really wanted to know. It was all very unusual,Tatiana bringing a little girl with her.

-Mrs.Blackthorn is very kind. My family did not want me. But she seems to care.-Grace said.

Jesse blinked. Her family did not want her? What did she meant by that?

-Your family? Who are they? And why would they not want such a lovely girl as yourself?-Jesse asked.

Grace laughed,but he could barely listen to her voice. It was almost as if she was whispering.

-Cartwright. But i don't really mind. Mrs.Blackthorn said that it is okay for me to stay at this Manor.-Grace said.

She was going to live there? Is that what she was saying? Jesse didn't quite knew what to think,he only hoped Tatiana was not going to make this girl their servant.

-It is a big Manor,is it not? But you should be careful of the thorns here,or you can get hurt.-Jesse said.

-It surely is. But now it is my turn to make you a question.-Grace said,grinning.

-Go on then.-Jesse said,smiling.

-Mrs.Blackthorn called you her "beautiful boy". You don't have any siblings?-Grace asked.

Jesse shook his head.

-I don't. And i'm not really sure if "beautiful" suits me that much.-He said.

-It does suits you. You will have no trouble in finding a decent wife.-Grace said.

Jesse only shrugged. Perhaps every little girl did dream about marriage and all that.

-Do you feel lonely? Is it not a waste to live in this big house and have no one to play with?-Grace asked.

-It sure does feel lonely. But one can always use creativity to end the boredom.-Jesse said.

-Maybe if you play with me you won't feel lonely anymore.-Grace said.

Jesse looked at her. It seemed quite obvious that she was a lonely girl too. Tatiana did said that she was in "desperate need for a playmate".

But she seemed special. As if there was something in her gestures,in her smile,in her eyes,that made him feel like playing with her.

Grace. The perfect name for a girl as gracious as she.

Jesse nodded.

-Maybe.-He said.

Later

-Jesse,my prince. You have spent the entire afternoon with Grace. Did you like her? I hope she will be able to keep you company.-Tatiana said.

-I did like her. She is the first friend i ever had,even if she is just 8 years old.-Jesse said.

-I am glad to hear that. I have intentions of adopting Grace. She will soon be a Blackthorn. And you will be her big brother.-Tatiana said.

Jesse looked at Grace. She was waiting for Tatiana to serve dinner,as Tatiana had ordered her to do.

She seemed lost in her thoughts,looking around the Blackthorn Manor,as if it were the most interesting place she had ever been in.

He did liked being with Grace. He knew how it was like to have a friend now,something Jesse thought he would never know.

And if she was going to become his little sister,then he would never be lonely again. That huge dark castle would have a princess to keep company for the prince.

They went to the dining room. Tatiana took her seat at the end of the table. Jesse sat beside Grace.

-So Grace,have you enjoyed playing with Jesse?-Tatiana asked.

-Yes Mrs.Blackthorn. I had much fun.-Grace said.

-Perfect them. As i have told you earlier,you will now live in this Manor with us. You are no longer a Cartwright. You are now Grace Blackthorn.-Tatiana said.

"You will be my blade" Grace remembered Tatiana's words. She didn't knew what she meant by that,but it didn't seemed good.

She was not that fond of Tatiana,but still,she was giving her a home,along with clothes and food. Everything someone could ask for.

And she was even getting a brother! She would never feel alone with Jesse being there with her.

-Are you happy Grace? We will be brother and sister now.-Jesse asked,looking at her.

Grace smiled. It was probably the first time she actually felt like doing that.

-I am very happy!-She said,hugging Jesse.

She could hear him laughing. She may have lost the Cartwright family,but she didn't care in the least.

The Blackthorns were there for her. Jesse was there,and they would be her family now.

And family was forever.

[spork-guitar]

Lucky Lady Chapter 15

@sapphicsovereign​ @gingerdaile​ @catsssmeow​

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Original prompt by @gale-of-the-nomads​

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, and 14.

Hi. I think you can probably guess what this is - an apology, another excuse for not posting in weeks. With everything that’s happening in the world and in my personal life, I just had to take some time off for my own mental health. I won’t bore you with the details, but I haven’t written a word since early June. Some days I couldn’t get out of bed for hours, some days I considered giving up writing for good. I'm going to continue, but if I had any semblance of a posting schedule before, I definitely don’t anymore. I’m sorry for the few of you that still read this. I know it’s frustrating to be invested in a story and have it go unfinished for a long time, believe me. But as of now, I still plan to finish this fic. It may take a while, but I’d like to believe things are looking up for me. My apologies, again. Thank you for being patient.

That being said, this chapter is (hopefully) less depressing than that. This is an example of a chapter that was never part of the plan but happened anyway, which is about 80% of my content in any given story. Oh, and I threw in an OC... and gave him a backstory... and it’s about twice as long as any other chapter so far... and I swear none of that was supposed to happen, but... enjoy?

 Adrien adjusted his tie for the nth time, only to have his hand swatted away by the meticulous designer who had spent months working on a unique suit just for him. It was silly, really, because no matter how much hard work and effort the man put into the ensemble, it just looked and felt like every other suit he’d worn before. The only difference he could see was the price tag. Sure, he knew from a fashion standpoint what the benefits were of certain pocket styles and fabric choices, but other than that, it was just a suit. 

He had heard about brides-to-be suddenly “feeling like a bride” when they tried on the right dress, but he supposed they were already excited about the prospect of getting married, having found the person they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. Adrien couldn’t relate. At this point, he knew he was wearing his wedding suit. It was what he would wear the day he married Lila. He would smile and tell her how beautiful she looked, because there would be cameras filming his every move. He would be the perfect husband, the perfect son, the perfect model, etc., etc. Every second he spent with her in public for the rest of his life would be perfectly scripted and planned out to make them look like the perfect couple, but something about that made him dread getting married even more.

Adrien frowned at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was combed, suit clean, tie straight, shoes shined, and he felt less like himself than he had in ages. He knew the person looking back at him in the glass, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t right.

He rolled his shoulders and tugged at the collar of his dress shirt, effectively loosening his tie and earning him an exasperated sigh from the man in front of him.

“Ay, M. Agreste, please. If you don’t stand still, we’ll never finish in time, and I have another customer coming in half an hour!” A thick Italian accent made his French harder to understand, but Adrien got the message.

“Sorry, M. Bertinelli,” he half-mumbled.

The stout man raked his fingers through his thin gray hair. “Alphonso. We’ve been through this. M. Bertinelli was my father, God rest his soul.”

“Wasn’t his name also Alphonso?”

“Si, si. But to me, he was papà. At work, he was M. Bertinelli. The only person who ever called him Alphonso was mia madre, Lucia. The angels took her too soon.” He bowed his head, eyes downcast.

Adrien tugged at the collar of his suit uncomfortably… again. “I, uh… I know a little about that.”

Alphonso regarded him with a kind smile, picking a piece of lint off his lapel. “You would, wouldn’t you? How long has it been? Ten years?”

He scratched his neck, looking away from the man’s persistent gaze. “Yeah, almost.”

Someone just beyond the fitting room knocked softly on the door, and it creaked open hesitantly after a second. “Are you decent?”

Ladybug. Adrien smiled. “Yeah, come on in.” She stepped into the room and waved shyly at M. Bertinelli. Her gaze turned to him, eyes widened and cheeks flush. She looked him up and down, as if trying to memorize every little detail of his pricey ensemble. By the time her eyes met his again, he was sure his face was every bit as red as hers.

Suddenly, as if remembering why she came into the room in the first place, Ladybug stared intensely at her tablet and cleared her throat. “Uh, I don’t want to bother you, monsieur. I’ll only be a minute. You have a fencing lesson with M. D'argencourt at his private court in...” She paused, scrolling through the day’s schedule. “...thirty minutes, so we should be leaving within the hour.”

Adrien was pretty sure her openly gaping at him for multiple seconds had effectively cleared his mind of any coherent thought other than a long string of exclamation points, but M. Bertinelli had him covered. “Not to worry, bella. I’ll have him out of here in plenty of time.” With a hand on her shoulder, he led her back out the door. “I’ll call you when we’re finished.” Once she was out of earshot, he chuckled, waggling a suit brush at him. “You like her,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“Oh, don’t pretend with me, ragazzo. I can see it a mile away. The way you smiled when she walked in the room, how you blushed when she looked at you.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in. “You’re not exactly subtle, ragazzo, and neither is she.” Adrien felt his face heat again as Alphonso laughed merrily. “Besides, I’ve been in love before.”

Adrien shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie, draping them carefully over the back of a chair. “How do you know it’s love? I haven’t known her very long. It could just be… I don’t know, something else? Love is a strong word to use.”

Alphonso shook his head insistently, setting the brush on the vanity counter. “It’s just like it was with my late wife, Rosa Maria. When I met her, she was with my old friend Claudio, who treated her poorly. A shame, really. Rosa was the sweetest woman I ever knew, and Claudio? Well, he was something else. I thought I’d live my whole life in love with a woman I’d never have, but love is a funny thing, ragazzo. I had just about given up when she up and left him one day. Came knocking at my door, telling me she loved me all along. Of course, Claudio didn’t like that very much, but it worked out for me and my Rosa. It will work out for you, too.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! You don’t live to be fifty-seven without learning a few things about life. Now, get out of that suit before you wrinkle it.”

“Don’t you have to alter it?”

“It fits you like a glove, ragazzo. I knew it would.” He took the discarded jacket from the chair and put it on a mannequin across the room. “You know, that might be a good analogy. The right girl will fit like a good suit - comfortable, nice-looking, and affordable as long as you’ve got a rich padre.”

“What should I do about Ladybug?”

Alphonso shrugged. “Whatever needs to be done. Don’t worry yourself too much, anyway. Things have a way of working themselves out, and you’re a pretty smart kid. But if you want some advice from a man who’s been put through the ringer a few times, I think you should tell her how you feel before it’s too late.”

Adrien frowned. “It might already be too late. My wedding is in eighteen days, and everything’s ready. I can’t back out now.”

“Well, if you go through with it, that’s fine. Your wife better be over the moon. She’s got herself the handsomest boy in Paris.” 

“Thanks, Alphonso.”

He patted Adrien on the cheek and ruffled his hair with a fond smile. “Ah, get outta here. But if you never need a listening ear, I’ve got two of ‘em, and I can always pretend your suit doesn’t fit quite right so you can come back. I sure wouldn’t mind the company.”

Adrien laughed politely, not sure if he meant it, but secretly wishing he did. Alphonso treated him like family, like the son he never had, and he acted more like a father than Gabriel ever had. “You know what? I’ll let you know.”

“See you around, Adrien.”

…

Ladybug stood up as he walked back into the waiting room, clasping her hands behind her back. “All done?”

He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Yep. Let’s get out of here.” She snickered, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth to sober herself. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just… your hair is a mess. It must have happened when you changed back, because it looked fine when I was in there earlier.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair and swooped it to the side. “Better?”

“Mostly. There’s a little part…” She pointed to the left side of her head, and he patted down the right side, mirroring her. “No, the other side.” He followed her instructions, but to no avail. She clicked her tongue, reaching out. “May I?”

He kept his voice steady (he hoped) and his expression neutral. “Of course.” With gentle fingers, she quickly found the problematic tuft of hair and combed her fingers through it a few times to tame it down. When she was done, she brushed a few strands out of his face, nails gently scraping his forehead and over to his ear. 

Satisfied, she smiled, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, and patted him on the head like a dog. Maybe a cat. “All good! Let’s go.”

Well, that was just plain unfair. The way she could touch him like it was nothing, like the world around them didn’t just cease to exist when she smiled at him. Truthfully, Adrien was touch starved, and he knew it. It had been years since the last time he willingly hugged someone, so he was automatically hyper aware of every time Ladybug casually touched him. Every electric brush of their fingertips when she handed him his schedule, every playful smack when he made a bad joke, every time she got close enough that he could feel her breath teasing his skin like a light summer breeze.

He futilely tried to console himself with the thought that she would still be his bodyguard after the wedding, but if anything, that made it worse. He would spend years, perhaps the rest of his life knowing she was off limits. Right there, a few houses, a room, a meter away, but he couldn’t have her. 

But how, he wondered, do you simply coexist with someone who doesn’t know how every tiny little thing she does turns his whole world upside down? He knew he was unlucky, but even for the Powers That Be, that seemed a little excessive.

[ask-the-good-creeps]

You can open up if you'd like

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPT MENTIONS. DEPRESSION MENTIONS. MENTAL HEALTH MENTIONS. DO NOT READ IF THESE THINGS COULD NEGATIVELY AFFECT YOU.

 Okiedokes, mi amigos. The following story happened years ago, but it still comes up in my mind a lot; and I feel like sharing the experience may benefit someone going through a rough patch and/or yield a bit of insight to y’all about why I think the way I do. If you decide to read further, please read it to the end.

 So, this story begins with my first year of university. I was nineteen years old, fresh out of the Arizona foster care system, and had a history of mental health issues (official diagnoses from the psychologists I saw was PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, and Bipolar Disorder Type II – all of which triggered and fed into each other) that I was medicated for at that point in my life.

 Things were going well for the first year…I made friends, I joined clubs and events, had an on-campus work study job, and was pulling decent grades in my classes. Then, the year ended and summer rolled around. I volunteered to spend my summer on-campus as a Resident Advisor for the university’s honors outreach program (where we brought 7th-9th graders to the campus for 2-week programs to give them a taste of college life and encourage them to come to us after high school, pretty much).

 To anyone on the outside looking in, things looked like they were going great for me. In my eyes, everything was going great. Except for one thing…my grade hadn’t posted in one of my classes for the semester, and I didn’t do to well on the final (in my opinion). I was slightly worried that I was going to fail the class – looking back now, that was a ridiculous worry because I was doing great in the class and the professor was a really cool dude that usually didn’t fail students unless they put in literally zero effort throughout the semester.

 But, I worried nonetheless.

 Even then, it didn’t feel like a big deal to me…what I didn’t realize is that subconsciously it was the straw that broke the camel’s back for my mental health.

 You see, being in foster care as a teen is Hell. Especially in Arizona. One of the things they drill into the heads of teens in “the system” is that we’re absolute failures who will drop off the map and end up leading miserable lives after we age out of foster care (probably because they don’t teach us the necessary life skills to survive outside of their care, but I digress…that’s another story for another day).

 In the group homes, I was the kid that stayed out of trouble and got straight-A’s in school. I was the kid who never smoked, drank alcohol, or tried drugs not even once in my life. I was the one that kept climbing and got accepted into university on full scholarship after high school. So, I was the one that all those adults of the foster care system used as an example…the one who had extremely high expectations on their shoulders as a result.

 So, when the grade for that class finally posted online and was not an A like my other classes (it was a C), it was the end of the world to my mind. I didn’t realize it when it happened, but seeing that grade made a thread of stability quietly snap behind the scenes where I couldn’t see it.

 As a result, I had a rogue thought.

 Now, when it comes to my thinking patterns, there is always a clear…well, pattern. If I’m thinking about my Great Aunt Vickie’s cat, for example, I can recognize that I started thinking about her because I thought of a funny cat story that was something similar to what Vickie’s cat did; and I can recognize that I thought of that funny cat story because I saw a cat meme on the internet yesterday; and so on, and so on, until I find the real-life stimulus that triggered the whole line of thinking.

 Rogue thoughts are a whole different matter entirely. Unlike my usual thinking patterns, these rogue thoughts just show up without any noticeable stimulus or previous thinking���and that makes them dangerous for someone like me, who has learned to control my depression through CBT and recognizing when my thought patterns are starting to get too negative for me.

 I returned to my apartment in between summer outreach programs (we had a few days to recoup between each 2-week session) and that’s when the rogue thought in question appeared.

 “Kill yourself.”

 That was the thought. It was not linked to any depressive thinking patterns, it was just there. It didn’t feel like a big thing, just another item on my to-do list for the short break I had. Had I been more used to rogue thoughts and encountered a similar one to this in the past, I would have thought more about it.

 I would have recognized that this thought may have popped into my conscious line of thought out of nowhere, but seen that it had deep roots in my subconscious thinking.

 But, I hadn’t had a rogue thought like this in the past.

 All of my previous suicidal ideations had patterns to trace back to in my conscious mind that allowed me to work through most of them without incident.

 So, I sat at my desk and started writing out a suicide note. It was very casual in tone, like a friendly farewell to my friends and family as opposed to being a depressing final record. I planned to jump off my apartment balcony the next day. After careful consideration, I decided that I would prefer my body to stay in one piece (my apartment was on the eighth floor, after all) and I opted to overdose on my medication instead.

 I had a little garden at my window, and I set the note there. I sent a quick text to my father that simply read, “My plants know the reason why.” I was prepared to take the pills…then my father called me.

 He was concerned, but I lied and said that I was just spouting random nonsense with the intent to confuse people (easily believable, as my catchphrase at the time seemed to be, ‘the pancakes fly at midnight and the waffles swim at dawn’ for some reason). He asked multiple times if I was alright, to which I always answered affirmatively. Then, the call ended.

 I went to my room and laid in bed. I put in my headphones and turned on my music. Then, I swallowed ten of my prescription pills (which I was only supposed to take one of every 24 hours, for reference). After that, I swallowed a literal handful of melatonin tablets I picked up OTC, because I didn’t want to be awake for the damage the prescription meds would do to my system.

 I laid back in bed with the music going, and passed out fairly quickly. However, the melatonin wasn’t enough to keep me unconscious as my body started trying to purge the pills in an act of self-preservation. I couldn’t open my eyes because every time I did, the room spun. I was throwing up a lot, and at one point when I leaned over the bedside to get it on the floor instead I lost my balance and faceplanted onto the ground (which I found out later had led to a broken nose). I didn’t even feel it, just the pain my insides were going through as I faded in and out of consciousness.

 Here’s where it gets interesting, reader. It was night by now, and the lights in my room were off. The livingroom light was on and it shined in through the crack under my closed (and locked) bedroom door. Even if I could open my eyes, it wasn’t enough light to see by.

 Yet, it wasn’t my eyes that detected anything. I felt a presence in my room with me, there in the dark. It felt like I knew this person, as if they were a close friend, despite the fact that I had no idea who they were. I remember asking this person,

 “Do I still have enough of the poison left in my system to kill me?”

 To which I received their reply:

 “No. You’ve coughed enough of it up. You’re going to be alright.”

 I cracked my eyes open ever so slightly and saw a flashing blue light shining up at the ceiling every so often. It was a notification light on my phone, which I had left plugged in to charge on the dresser next to my bed.

 My goal here was to die, not to suffer. Since this person there with me insisted I wasn’t going to die, I reached out with my eyes still closed a couple times. I managed to grab my charge cord and pull my phone off the dresser and to the floor next to me.

 It took a couple tries to dial emergency services (911) because I couldn’t keep my eyes open very well, but eventually I got an operator on the line and managed to briefly explain why I called in between bouts of vomiting.

 The paramedics came in. They asked me what I had overdosed on, how many pills I’d taken, and when I took them. I answered with the name of my med, that I had taken ten times my normal dose, and that I didn’t check the time but it was still light out.

The paramedics didn’t believe me at first. One of them told me it was almost light out again now, and that taking that amount of that med meant I should not be alive still, let alone able to express semi-coherent thoughts. They didn’t believe me until they picked up my pill bottle and saw how many were gone.

 I was taken to the hospital and spent a few days recovering there. I had my eyes closed and was in and out of consciousness the whole time, so I’m still not sure exactly what they had to do to keep me alive (though I don’t remember getting my stomach pumped, and I think I heard someone say something about charcoal).

 On my third day there, I started to think on what happened and realized something. I still didn’t know who had been in that room with me. The paramedics had to get a key from the front desk when they arrived and go through two locked doors (my front door and my bedroom) to get to me. My apartment was on the eighth floor, so someone coming in through the (also locked) window was out of the question.

 I didn’t recognize the person’s voice, so I chalked it up to my brain treating me to reverse psychology through an auditory hallucination to keep me alive. Though, that is just a theory.

 So, dear reader, you’re probably wondering why I decided to share this story. Well, it’s not really the story that I wanted to share, but what I learned from the experience.

 I learned that suicide is not a proper course of action, no matter the circumstances. 

I learned that we cannot die before it is our time – the universe will intervene. 

I learned that I have plenty of people who care (though very few of them know why I was in the hospital in 2015). 

I learned that stress is not to be taken lightly (subconsciously I had been super stressed about my C-grade and the implications that I was a failure because of it, and also because of everything loaded on my plate) and it must be handled in a healthy way. 

I learned how to say ‘no’ to avoid putting too much on my plate.

 Most importantly, I learned about freeing myself from the expectations of others. You see, my friend, you will meet many people throughout your life that are important to you that have expectations of you. Family, friends, teachers, mentors, and so on…and you may be worried about disappointing them, as I once was. But please understand that only your own expectations for yourself truly matter, and if you try to please everyone else you’ll end up in a really tight spot. Learn to let go of what they want and pursue your own passions and dreams (preferably before you end up going to university for a major you aren’t even fond of, like I did).

 Lastly, If you feel or think in any capacity that suicide is something you should do, I encourage you to think twice, and reach out openly and honestly with what you’re experiencing to someone you trust in your life or to a Mental Health/Suicide Prevention hotline. If you feel like you have nowhere else to turn, I’m here.

 As someone who almost became a statistic, believe me…I understand.

[thebestproductsforskincare-blog]

Skin Care Tips: My Top Ten List

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If you're still young and have the ideal skin of childhood, be conscious your appearances are fleeting. If you never have the opportunity to properly take care of the skin today, at 10 or twenty five years in the future, you may definitely see the symptoms of negligence, so will everybody else you meet. Smoking, a bad diet can give you a skin appearing like a couple of beatup shoes. Nobody wants this, therefore aim to take decent care of the skin today. If you're old, you can not turn back the hands of time, however decent skincare may help detain the symptoms of aging.

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This really can't be mentioned: Extra sunlight will provide you skin and wrinkles which looks more comparable to a own leather than fresh and dewy. When many folks think they just can't be with no"gold glow" out of keratin, their skin is going to ultimately cover the purchase price.

Get in the practice of employing a moisturizer with built-in UV coverage regular, not only on bright days. Throughout summer time once sunlight is the most intense, be sure that you use sunscreen on any exposed areas of your skin, and make sure you pay up as soon as the sun reaches its summit at mid day. Not only will this keep skin looking younger for more, but it'll even greatly help protect you from receiving skin cancer that is deadly.

3. Hydration-- It can not be said enough that is among the main keys for healthy skin.

Your drink of preference ought to really be water, not coffee or sodas, if you'd like beautiful skin. You have to drink water consistently all through daily too. A sip of water today, however nothing all night later contributes to dehydration.

Does insomnia reveal onto skin, in addition, it affects your general wellbeing. If you're over tired, you aren't in the productive any way, why don't you call it a night, and find the rest you want?

Getting sufficient sleep will assist you reduce your stress levels and provide the skin time to reevaluate throughout your sleep hours.

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Your skin invisibly by simply producing fresh skin tissues and shoving dead, dead skin cells into the top of skincells. Dry skin must not be over-exfoliated; twice or once weekly is ample for skin variety. Oily and standard skin may simply take longer ordinary exfoliation; perhaps 3-4 times per week. Be certain that you use an exfoliant that's suitable for the skin type, also do not overdo it. The skin is more delicate, and thus do not wash it as if it is your destroy.

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The ingredients in those product break up with time and getting confronted with the atmosphere. If you visit creams or ointments breaking up, or you also observe a fantastic smell from some your skincare products, then do away with these pronto. They tend to be infected with germs, which may cause skin irritation and break outs.

7) Restrict sodium ingestion.

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8) Keep it blank --Cleanse skin at nighttime.

A creamy cleanser is ideal to get dry-to-normal skin types, whilst oilyacne prone skin can gain from a antibacterial cleansers. This avoids contaminating your pillow, even resulting in breakouts.

9) Utilize a toner that's ideal for your skin type.

This permits your own moisturizer to penetrate the skin pores effectively, and also do a superior job of keeping the skin healthy and moist. If a skin is really on the flip side, forget the toner in your own lips. As an alternative, simply stroke on with a cotton ball into the oilier aspects of one's facethe forehead, chin and nose.

Oily skins want an oil-free, light weight moisturizer, even whereas older skin which is commonly on the other side may gain from the rich moisturizer, specially through the nighttime time.

For those who have very dry skin, then you can gain from moisturizers referred to as"humectants" since they draw additional moisture out of the air to soothe dry skin.

1 1 ) Transfer it.

Exercise brings nourishment and blood into the top layer of the epidermis, and perspiration removes impurities, therefore it's fantastic for skin. Just be sure to shower promptly whenever you're finished to maintain your pores from getting obstructed from perspiration. This may prevent outbreaks and migraines.

If you obey the skincare ideas, you're well on the path to the kind of skin which is going to undoubtedly be the envy of every one your buddies, regardless of what your age.

[andromeda-sapphire]

My (Updated) Astro Reading List:

A few people now have come to me asking for recommended reading regarding astrology, and my answer is constantly changing, as it really depends on your level of knowledge. So here I'm going to share a few of my favorites off my Astrology bookshelves (yes, I have more than one shelf dedicated to astrology). This is a guide for the self-made, self-taught astrologer!

(Click on the bolded book titles to be taken over to Amazon to purchase any of these for yourself! ThriftBooks and local used bookstores are also a great resource for discounted astrology books!)

For Beginners! Learn this name. Linda Goodman. This woman was my introduction to astrology. I read her book, Sun Signs (which is available to read here online for free!) when I was about 10 years old and it hooked me. This book came out in 1968 and was the first book on astrology to reach the New York Times Best-Seller list. Her writing is very accessible to complete beginners, and entertaining to read for even more experienced astrology students. Her writing style reminded me of my grandmother, who gave me the book, so it was a very familiar-feeling and easy-to-read book.

Many of you will recognize the name "Llewellyn"if you're involved in the metaphysical or magical community in any way. They have a great introductory book on astrology, called Llewellyn's Complete Book of Astrology: The Easy Way To Learn Astrology. It is a good resource for anyone learning astrology, and will give you a decent grasp of the basic factors involved in a chart.

Another great resource for any astrologer looking to learn is Astrology: Understanding The Birth Chart by Kevin Burk. This book has a lot of very useful information and is an excellent tool, especially for those interested in a more classical approach to astrology. This book is aimed away from modern astrology, and more towards the carefully calculated science that ancient astrologers practiced in Greece.

One of my personal favorite textbook-like astrology books is A Spiritual Approach to Astrology, by Myrna Lofthus. This is an incredible book with a whole load of information useful to any level astrologer. It even includes a spiritual view on aspects and placements. This book dives into overviews of the planets, signs and houses as well as aspects from a karmic and spiritual perspective. If you're looking for soul development, this is your astrology bible.

I found this next one at a garage sale one day for $1 and just had to call it destiny. The Compleat Astrologer, by Derek & Julia Parker, was published in 1971, and was such a great find! It's a beautifully illustrated collector's book with lots of good information for the beginning astrologer. It goes through the signs one by one and includes a historical timeline of astrology and "The Astrological Ages of Man," which the history buff inside me finds incredibly fascinating!

One of my recent favorites, The Astrology of Fate by Liz Greene, presents astrology from a somewhat classical perspective, yet also slightly modern in her psychological analysis. She uses Greek myths and ancient archetypes to describe the patterns of the planets involved in major life events, and makes some very interesting connections! This book also gives many examples and may use technical jargon, so I recommend this book for after you've read the previous books listed.

I personally did not have as much interest in this book, but it is a good beginner resource, so I feel obligated to list it here. The Inner Sky by Steven Forrest was recommended to me by a friend years ago, and I didn't connect very well with his writing style, but he does have great information here. Steven Forrest also has a whole series of astrology books for different levels of learning, so there is something for everyone I suppose with his work.

An excellent book for anyone struggling to understand the concept of the houses and their themes, The Twelve Houses by Howard Sasportas is a wonderfully informative book specifically about the houses and the planets through the houses. This has some great information on aspect patterns involving houses as well.

There is a series of astrology handbooks by Frances Sakoian and Louis S. Acker, all of them are very good resources. First, there’s The Astrologer’s Handbook, which focuses mainly on natal chart interpretation. The next one I would look into is Predictive Astrology, which mainly focuses on the meanings of transits. Then there’s another book on reading synastry charts (relationship astrology) called The Astrology of Human Relationships.

If you’re interested in learning specifically about the ancient Hellenistic tradition of astrology, this list would not be complete without Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune by Chris Brennan. This book is a textbook for the ancient Hellenistic way of learning astrology, complete with chart examples and analyses. Chris Brennan offers astrology courses on his website as well and is the host of The Astrology Podcast.

If you’re interested more in Vedic astrology, check out volumes 1 and 2 of Brihat Parasara Hora Sastra: A Compendium in Vedic Astrology. This massive collection of knowledge may be a little advanced for those just starting in astrology, but if you’re already familiar with the basics of Vedic astrology, go ahead and give it a shot!

For people interested in predicting events with astrology, I have a few books that have helped me! First, Predicting Events With Astrology by Celeste Teal. This book is textbook-like and very informative regarding predictive astrology. It goes over using decans as well, which is very important in getting specific information from a chart.

Another one, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Predictive Astrology: The Easy Way To Predict Your Future, is a good resource for beginners to predictive work. It has a lot of information and great example charts to help grasp confusing concepts.

Another great book is Predictive Astrology: The Eagle And The Lark by Bernadette Brady. This one has a huge amount of information stuffed into such a tiny package. It includes descriptions of the planets, signs and aspects and how they translate to predictive work. It also includes transits and progressions, as well as time maps and transit grids and how to use them all.

One book I've worn out with predictive astrology is Planets in Solar Returns: Yearly Cycles of Transformation and Growth by Mary Fortier Shea. This book is specifically written for solar return charts, but has some very helpful information on how to translate a solar return into something that makes sense. This book includes placements as well as aspects too.

Another great book on solar return predictions is The New Solar Return Book of Prediction by Raymond A. Merriman. This book goes into all kinds of detail regarding solar return charts and how to interpret them.

For a great guide book on transits and progressions to natal planets and points, look for Roadmap To Your Future by Bernie Ashman. It contains symbolism of all of the planets, example charts, as well as a description of all of the transits and progressions.

An excellent resource specifically for information on Saturn transits (which we all experience roughly at the same ages in life) is the book Saturn in Transit by Erin Sullivan. This is not only an incredibly informative book, but also a bit of a companion for those lonely Saturnian times. The author's use of mythological archetypes helps to guide the reader through the hardships and lessons of Saturn while preparing the reader for what's ahead as well.

For those of you interested in a karmic approach to astrology, Astrology, Karma & Transformation: The Inner Dimensions of the Birth Chart by Stephen Arroyo is a great informative read, and includes the karmic ideas of the outer planets and their transits. Also, any and all of the Karmic Astrology series by Martin Schulman. I still haven't been able to get all of this collection, but I have a few and they've all been quite interesting to read.

For anyone interested in the complex world of medical astrology, I have two books to recommend. First, Your Health in Your Horoscope: Introduction to Medical Astrology by Stefan Stenudd. This book is a great introduction, as it says in the title, but doesn't get into extensive medical correspondences and specifics. I also highly recommend The Encyclopedia of Medical Astrology by Howard Leslie Cornell. This book is a giant brick of information on medical astrology! It's pretty incredible.

Anyone who likes lists and textbook learning will love The Rulership Book by Rex E. Bills. This book essentially is a book of lists relating to astrology. It includes correspondence lists for each sign, planet and house, as well as a "dictionary" in the beginning to look up almost anything you can think of. I use this book ALL the time when writing my articles as well as for reference sometimes when I'm blocked reading a chart. Highly recommend this one, I feel it's essential for any astrologer to have.

For tarot readers out there, I just bought a book called Tarot and Astrology: Enhance Your Readings With The Wisdom Of the Zodiac by Corrine Kenner. This book is excellent for those with an understanding of tarot who are trying to learn astrology to help their readings. It has tables for reference as well as corresponding cards for each sign and planet placement. Very useful book already and I've barely even gotten a chance to read through it yet!

Another book I enjoyed, Pam Gregory's You Don't Really Believe in Astrology, Do You? I really love a good astrology book that gets technical with things. Pam Gregory is someone I've already been following on YouTube and online, and she always has interesting insights about current events and the transits to go along to match!

For anyone looking for information on working with the Moon's timing, Living By The Moon: A Practical Guide for Choosing the Right Time by Ute York is an excellent addition to your library! A must-have in fact. This book packs all kinds of lunar information into a small package, and isn't astrologically complex at all, so any level of astrologer can use it!

There are a few more on my shelf that are great books too, but I think this is enough for a good well-rounded reading list. I hope this list was a helpful tool for your journey of self-discovery and healing, and I hope you continue to learn the path of the stars!

I hope you enjoyed this article!

Check out my Ko-Fi below to leave me a tip!

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[allisondraste]

Writing Deliciously Evil Characters: A Meta Post

Recently in a discord conversation, I was discussing some feedback that I have gotten on my longfic, regarding my portrayal of the odious Rendon Howe.  Arl Howe is a classic, stereotypical “mwahaha” type of villain, which is not the standard in Dragon Age where the Wardens are Grey and the villains are Greyer, in that most of the bad folks aren’t doing bad things for the sake of doing bad things (e.g. Loghain, Meredith, Solas), but rather because they believe what they are doing is “right.”  Howe, on the other hand is a man who betrays his closest allies in the first of what would be a series of awful vies for power during the Fifth Blight that would eventually lead to his death and the destruction of his family.  He’s not the only character who does evil for pleasure/power/personal gain (think Livius Erimond, the Grand Duchess, Corypheus, Danarius blah blah blah).  However, the feedback was about Howe, so I’m going to reference him throughout this post.

Essentially, I have received a number of comments in which people have remarked something to the effect of “The way you write Howe makes me hate him even more.” I love this feedback because that was the plan all along and it’s the equivalent of someone saying “The way you write [insert widely beloved popular hero character here] makes me love them even more!”  I love love love villains, and as much as I am in the camp with everybody else wanting to stab the man in his slimy, weasley guts, I also love writing him.  In my personal opinion he is actually a very good villain, and I’ll go into why in a bit.

For those of you who haven’t encountered my meta posts before, I’m not a writer by trade.  I am a mental health professional, and my background is in psychology.  So when I make posts about “writing” some type of thing, I typically focus on the psychological components of why certain things work for characters, why others don’t, and how to make a character’s actions realistic and true to who they are as a person. That being said: I do speak about sensitive things in my posts, and this one is no different, so I will be putting the rest of this post behind a Read More.  If you are triggered by the mention of trauma and abuse, violence, and mental illness then I would caution you to take care of yourself if you choose continue on!

What is Evil?

If I were to ask you to give me the name of someone who is “evil,” I would bet money that the people everyone lists would be what society likes to coin “psychopaths” or “sociopaths,” and these are individuals who are callous, cruel, and lack consciences, anxiety, and empathy.  They are your serial killers and super villains.  Your unarguably bad, awful, evil people. They were always evil.  Born evil. Raised evil.  They eat, sleep, and breathe evil.  Concentrated evil flows through their veins. They probably also hate puppies and babies.  You all get the picture.

First of all, this is not only an inaccurate understanding of what standard human evil is, but it is also an inaccurate and romanticized view of psychopathy/sociopathy (the words are actually interchangeable, people just like to pretend they are different).  The media loves itself a juicy slice of psychopath.  It’s why we have movies about Ted Bundy and why Discovery ID is a thing. However something that is so incredibly important to note is that regardless of how an evil person presents, “evil” as a thing, a behavior.  It is  not a personality trait, but a societally motivated response. People are not evil; they do evil.  Someone  may be born with a diathesis, or predisposition to do evil things, and then be influenced by environmental factors to enact those evil things, but nobody in the world is born evil. Not. A. Single. Person. In fact, as the Stanford Prison Experiment, conducted by Philip Zimbardo (who also has a wonderful TED Talk  on the Psychology of Evil), shows ANYONE under the right circumstances can do evil.  The Stanford Prison Experiment is actually an excellent example of why the Templar Order is the way it is!  When people of equal standing are placed in a position where one group has perceived power and authority over the other, and when the guilt is diffused across a “group” rather than placed on a single person, horrible things can happen. In fact, more evil is done by groups of people than individuals for this very reason.

I originally had a much longer explanation about how society causes evil, but the post ended up being long anyway and this was unnecessary (but, if you want a post about that in the future, feel free to hit up my inbox or otherwise just check out that Zimbardo talk linked here).  

My point is that in order to write compelling villains it is important to understand what drove them to reach the point of atrocity they have reached, why they do as they do.  A villain who you cannot answer those questions for is going to fall flat.  Disclaimer: I am not suggesting that you excuse a villain’s actions or make apologies for what they do.  Evil is evil regardless of intention, however, knowing the explanation for the behavior can help you capture it in a story.

Why Villains Fall Flat

If my readers are anything like me, then there have been times in the consumption of media that they encounter a really awful bad person who you just kind of feel “blah” about.  They are supposed to be your protagonists’ mortal enemy, but their defeat falls flat and feels empty and anticlimactic.  Sometimes in the horror genre, authors take the “telling less” approach regarding their villains because that increases the “oooh” creepy feeling that they want to have.  This is actually really really effective for a horror film.  It is not so effective when writing action/adventure, romance, etcetera.  Why? I think that it can be pretty well summed up by the following quote by existential psychologist Rollo May:

“Hate is not the opposite of love; apathy is.”

Essentially, in order to truly hate a villain and to be both disgusted by their actions and thrilled by their defeat, you have to care about them in some way shape or form.  You have to be invested in their “origin story” and/or care about someone who is closely tied to them or affected by them.  It’s why Rendon Howe is such a good villain, and why playing the Cousland origin and meeting his children makes you hate him even that much more.  When you play the Cousland origin, you get to see the Arl through the eyes of someone who doesn’t know that he is bad.  Rendon is aloof, but ultimately respectful and he seems to have the implicit approval dear old dad (they were war buddies after all! Fought in the rebellion together!!).  Then, he has the family murdered in their sleep in a premeditated act of sheer ambition.  We get to see the death of a young woman and her son, and watch as Warden Cousland leaves her parents behind to die.  It’s tragic, it’s all Howe’s fault, and it’s effective.  Then you have this opportunity to meet Howe’s eldest son Nathaniel who is so bitter and full of rage that *you* the “hero” destroyed his family.  He can’t fathom his father doing something evil enough to warrant what happened to the Howes.  He was never that bad!  He just got caught up in politics!  He picked the wrong side in a war!  He tortured prisoners because the country was at war!.  His bedroom was  next to the torture dungeons because politics and war! I’m not saying that Nate has the most accurate view of his dad -- the man certainly wasn’t winning any father of the year awards, after all, a fact which Nathaniel eventually comes to realize (“maybe I shouldn’t defend the man who found the screams of prisoners to be soothing bedtime ambient noise” -- okay I’m exaggerating so sue me).  What I am saying is that in  listening to Nathaniel speak about his father and his family, we learn more about Howe, his life and his motivations.  We realize there is nothing more than a man behind all that evil, a man who has a family (and a family in which the other members are actually good and decent at that) and we are able to see that maybe he could have been good had things gone differently for him.  Again, it’s effective.

What Causes People to Do Evil?

As I mentioned before, just as with greatness, people are not born evil.  Evil is something that people have thrust upon them, and it is honestly really tragic if you look back and see all of the individual steps that led to a person becoming the villainous bastard you know and love to hate.  There are many different reasons a person might do evil things, but it typically falls into the theory we psychology nerds call the “diathesis-stress model,” which posits that certain people are born with a “diathesis” or a predisposition for a certain type of behavior.  In the case of an evil person it might be that the person has an irritable temperament or ambitious, selfish, narcissistic, aggressive, deviant, manipulative, etcetera tendencies.  When these people are placed under a stressor (such as, but not limited to: abuse, trauma, modeling of crime or deviant behavior, desperation, loss, etc.), the darker sides of those qualities comes out.  

NOTE: This is not to say that everyone who has these qualities and undergoes a stressor is going to become evil.  This is not to say that abuse/trauma/etc. causes evil.  In fact, most people who are traumatized do not go on to traumatize others; however, if you look at everyone who has done evil, almost all of them have done so because they grew up in an environment where such evil was the norm, and they learned nothing better.  They are people who were pushed by desperation.  They are people who ultimately have a story that is not “Oh, they’re just bad.”

Evil is the perfect storm of nature and nurture that, unfortunately, some people are not able to escape.  

Sometimes, it’s easy to care about villains because their intentions and motivations are very overtly stated.  For example:

Loghain is motivated by a very rational fear of the Orlesians and Cailan’s closeness to them.  We learn all that Loghain’s family went through during the Orlesian occupation, what happened to his mother.  We also can toy around with the possibility that his decision to quit the field at Ostagar was less obvious treason and more obviously pragmatic.  This of course doesn’t justify anything he does (you know, like striking a deal with the magisters to sell the Alienage elves into slavery or allowing Howe to, uh, torture people, what have you).

Meredith - See my above discussion of the Stanford Prison Experiment, but also consider her temperament and the trauma she was exposed to as a child with her sister who had magic and caused the death of 70 people including her family.  Is it okay that she abuses her power and abuses mages? Hell no… but we have motivation.

Solas - *sigh* Don’t make me do this one.  We get it. He has to RIGHT the WRONG. It’s his DUTY.  Cool story, still evil. (disclaimer: I love Solas. Ma vhenan. But I look at him with a critical eye when I choose to love him.  That’s important.)

Sometimes the motivations are not so clear.  I’m not particularly inclined to care about Corypheus other than I’d kinda like for him to get away from me with that demon army.  I don’t really give a flying duck about Erimond other than he is, as Cole so succinctly puts: an asshole.  There are lots of characters like that, and honestly it’s good to have a few of them sprinkled about a bit.  They’re not particularly fun to write or compelling to read (in my personal opinion), but hey! Your mileage may vary.

And now we’re back to Howe (Maker help me I never thought I’d be doing a  meta post about this awful man, but here we are).  He, and actually most if not all the minor villains in DAO, is actually really good despite his motivations not being so blatantly obvious as Loghain’s or Ulfric’s or any of the others you face in that game.  When he says, “I deserved more!” at the end, without further thought about the topic, it’s easy to say “God what a power grubbing weasley little snake of a man,” or a “cold codfish arse,” as one of my friends aptly described him.  However when you look at his background… it’s not so simple as all that. Just a few notes:

According to the lore Rendon has two fathers: Padric, who disappeared with the Wardens never to be seen again and who Rendon never forgave, and Tarleton who had no sense for loyalty and sided with the Orlesians in the rebellion and was ultimately hanged.

Young Rendon, despite his parentage chose to join the Rebellion with his besties: Bryce Cousland and Leonas Bryland.  At some point, he becomes injured and is no longer able to fight.  He is cared for by Leonas’ sister Eliane, who would later become Lady Howe.

There seems to be a lot of strife between Howe and his wife’s family, so much so that Eliane’s parents were even cold and critical of the Howe kids, Nathaniel in particular (maybe because he looks the most like Rendon, who knows?).  He expected to receive some of the Bryland wealth, but that did not happen (likely because he did not actually love his wife and Eliane’s family had no great love for him.  As far as marrying a Howe in Thedas, it would be much like marrying a Greyjoy or a Frey or a Bolton in Game of Thrones.  It’s not a family anyone particularly wanted to be associated with)

It is likely that Howe became very insecure and upset by the success of his friends, even resentful of them.  Handsome Bryce, his promotion to Teyrn,  and his Pirate Wife.  Leonas and his lovely [wealthy] family.  It made him miserable, and accompanied with all of the things that had been modeled for him by his family… it was not much of a stretch for him to go darkside.

So…What Was The Point of this Allison? Why Have You Written This Hellishly Long Post?

1.) I wanted to.  It was fun for me. This is how I spend my free time apparently.

2.) I wanted to provide some basic pointers for writing believable, but undoubtedly bad villains, and I felt like it needed context.

The Tips...Get On With Them Already. Please. We’re Begging You.  TL;DR!

1.) “Evil” is not a personality trait, it is a behavior.  People are not born evil.  They are led to do evil.

2.) Romanticized psychopaths/sociopaths are boring.

3.) In order to develop hatred for a character, you have to make the audience care about them, and the ways to do so are endless.

4.) Evil is the combination of a predisposition to do bad things plus some catalyst that causes someone to go darkside.  Nature and Nurture working together to make a twisted thing.

5.) Grey villains are abundant and very cool. Their motivations cloud their morality.

6.) Not-so-grey villains are also abundant, and can also have the potential to be very cool or the potential to be glorified Scooby-Doo villains (“And I would have gotten away with it too if it hadn’t been for you meddling WARDENS”)

7.) The line between a compelling “mwahaha” and a bleh “mwahaha” lies in the character’s backstory and motivations.  It lies in the audience caring in some way, shape, or form about that person.

8.) Rendon Howe is a character who, in my honest opinion was done right.  People loathe him.  He’s absolutely detested. Why? Because he’s a “cold codfish arse”? Maybe.  I posit that it’s because we have enough information to care about him.

Thank you for coming to this TED Talk, you all have been wonderful.

[sebastian-thorne]

About Sebastian Thorne.

I’m a hammer from hell, honey, can’t you tell? I’m the wild one, yeah, I’m the wild one.

basic information

Full name: Sebastian Thorne Nickname(s) or Alias: He likes to be called Seb or ‘Bas, he’s a fan of nicknames. Gender: Cis male Species: Muggleborn Wizard Age: Twenty Five Birthday: March 27th Zodiac Sign: Aries sun, Aquarius Moon, Capricorn Rising Sexuality: Bisexual Nationality: British Religion: Agnostic City or town of birth: Bristol, England Currently lives: London, England Languages spoken: English Native language: English Relationship Status: Single

physical appearance

Height: 6′2 Hair color: Brown Hairstyle:  He usually doesn’t do anything to his hair and will often just mess it up with his hands before he goes somewhere. He keeps it usually on the longer side but will often go to get it trimmed so it doesn’t get too shaggy. Facial Hairstyle: He can get pretty scruffy on his cheeks and upper lip but he won’t keep it for more than two days then it’ll get shaved off. Eye color: Blue-Green Tattoos: A red dragon on the side of his neck, closer to his collarbone Piercings: N/A Scars/distinguishing marks: He has a few scars on his forearms and biceps from Auror raids and his failed short-lived quidditch career. Preferred style of clothing: Sebastian is a very casual dresser and usually wears loose t-shirts, jeans, and flannel shirts. Frequently worn jewelry/accessories: None

health

Smoker?: N/A Drinker?: Yes, he’ll have a beer or a glass of wine with dinner every now and then. He doesn’t really go out of his way to get drunk unless he’s had a particularly stressful day. Recreational Drug User? Which?: Not frequently, he’s not against smoking weed every now and then. But wouldn’t go out of his way to do it. Addictions: Caffeine, he needs it to function like a normal human being. Allergies: N/A Neurological conditions: N/A Sleeping habits:  Sebastian goes to bed oddly late and wakes up early, he loves getting an early start on the day. He sees sleep as a waste of time, so, he’ll usually just stay up until his eyes physically can’t stay open anymore. Eating habits:  He does love to eat and really doesn’t care if it’s unhealthy or not since he says he’ll just work it off anyways. Sebastian is also a big snacker and he always keeps snacks at his desk at work. Exercise habits:  Sebastian really enjoys working out especially since he usually has some pent up energy that he needs to get out. He usually works out at least five days a week even if it’s just jogging. Emotional stability:  He is definitely low on the ranking for emotional stability, he is a very passionate man and often lets that get to him. He never, ever makes a decision based on logic it’s almost always emotion based. Sociability:  He is quite the outgoing guy and really loves talking to new people but he also enjoys having his alone time more often than not. Body Temperature: Very warm

personality

Label: The Miscreant Positive traits: Focused, hardworking, passionate, independent Negative traits: Impatient, hard headed, argumentative, vindictive Character Alignment: Chaotic Good (A chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. He makes his own way, but he's kind and benevolent. He believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations. He hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do. He follows his own moral compass, which, although good, may not agree with that of society.) Goals/Desires: To change the way the wizarding world treats/views muggles. Likes: Going to quidditch games, a raid going successfully, having a drink with his buddies, taking his dog for walks, and usually people that end up being bad for him Dislikes: Blood purists, not being listened to, seeing any kind of injustice, not being able to help people Fears/phobias: Sebastian hates enclosed spaces the thought of it makes his skin crawl. His real fear is that he’ll never be able to see his parents or muggle family again with the way the rules against muggles are going in this current age. Favorite color: Maroon Hobbies: Exercising, singing (poorly), hiking Habits: Sebastian has a really annoying habit of humming and he does it very, very loudly. He usually doesn’t notice that he’s doing it until someone tells him to knock it off. He also makes notes for everything, his desk is crawling in post-it notes. Taste in Music: His favorite is 60′s-70′s rock and also some country music but only if it’s Orville Peck.

skills

Talents/skills: Sebastian has very few skills or talents but one of them is that he’s able to hold his own in a fight, especially one that doesn’t involve magic. He’s also a pretty decent dueler and a quick thinker. Ability to drive a car? Operate any other vehicles?: Yes, his parents were adamant about teaching him when he would come home from Hogwarts during breaks. He has his own car and loves to drive it around, especially when he has Dude in the passenger seat. 

eating habits

Omnivore/Carnivore/Herbivore (Vegetarian): Omnivore Favourite food(s): Anything cheesy and unhealthy but cheese fries are his favorite. Favourite drink(s): Redbull, redbull vodkas, and coffee Disliked food(s): He’s not very picky but he’s not fond of sushi, the raw fish freaks him out  Disliked drink(s): Green tea and most kind of tea in general

house and home

Describe the character’s house/home:

Sebastian lives in an apartment in London, a regular run of the mill one that has muggle residents. He doesn’t mind at all and usually makes small talk with them if he sees them in the elevator.

He has a two bedroom apartment, he says one room is for Dude but it’s supposed to be his “office” although it doesn’t get much use as that. His apartment is a little snug but the perfect amount of space for him and his companion. It feels very homey and he always some kind of spicy candle burning.

He loves his home and spends a lot of his free time there, it’s just his time to unwind. His kitchen and living room are connected which is extremely helpful so he doesn’t leave anything burning while he’s watching his shows.

Do they share their home with anyone? Who?: Only his pup. Significant/special belongings: His only special belonging is a framed picture of him and his folks right after he graduated Hogwarts.

career

Level of education: Hogwarts level education. Qualifications: Wizarding diploma, and Auror diploma. Current job title and description: Auror: trained to investigate crimes related to the Dark Arts, and to apprehend or detain dark wizards and witches. Name of employer: Ministry of Magic.

combat

Peaceful or aggressive attitude?: He is definitely very aggressive with his words and his actions. As soon as he feels like he’s being threatened he bristles up and is quick to get on the angry track. Sometimes he can be talked down but if he’s really ticked off, it’s hard to get him back to a calm state. Fighting skills/techniques: He’s a relatively skilled dueler but he definitely prefers an old-fashioned fist fight.  Special skills/magical powers/etc: He can do some basic healing spells but that’s only if he or his comrades need it. Weapon of choice (if any): His wand and fists. Weaknesses in combat: Getting him in any kind of situation where he won’t be able to strike back with brute force. His dueling is doable but it’s not the best, he could be overpowered. Strengths in combat: He has a very high stamina and could go in a fight for quite a while, he’s also relatively quick on his feet.

family, friends and foes

Parents names: Patrick and Lydia Thorne Are parents alive or dead? Both are alive. Is the character still in contact with their parents? Sebastian used to be able to visit home as much as he wanted. He’d go home for holidays, birthdays, and when he just missed seeing his parents. But now because of the muggle laws, it’s definitely been harder for him to be able to get away to get in a visit. He still tries to keep in contact with them as much as he can. Siblings? Relationship with siblings?: N/A Other Important Relatives: N/A Partner/Spouse: N/A Exes: Children: None Best Friend: Hunter Finch-Fletchley Other Important Friends: Roxy Weasley, Alastor Lestrange, Molly Weasley Acquaintances: Pets: A golden retriever named Dude Enemies? Why are they enemies?: Blood Purists and Death Eaters, he thinks their logic is idiotic and backwards. The fact that people still believe in that proves that things in the wizarding world need to change.

backstory

Describe their childhood (newborn - age 10): Sebastian had a very loving and normal childhood, something he wouldn’t change for the world. His parents spent almost every second that they could with him when they weren’t working. He’s their only child but he wasn’t spoiled by any means since they were just reaching middle class at the time. Not that, that was something Sebastian ever had any kind of thoughts about. He played with all of the neighborhood kids and was always coming home with a bruised knee, bloody elbow, but a huge smile on his face and something new to tell his parents. 

Describe their  teenage years (11 - 19): When Sebastian Thorne found out he was a wizard he just felt as if everything had fallen into place. Not to say he wasn’t absolutely terrified by the idea at first, as far as he knew nobody in his family could do magic and he had no idea how his parents would react to the news that their only son was apparently a wizard. Luckily for Sebastian, his parents were absolutely thrilled. They told him over and over again that they always knew there was something special about him and that he was destined to do amazing things. Which did scare him just a little bit since that was quite a lot to tell an eleven year old but it also did really inspire Sebastian to try his hardest when he was at Hogwarts.

While he was in school, Sebastian definitely got along well with a lot of the other students. He wasn’t Mr. Popular but he did have a solid group of friends there especially within the Gryffindor house. However, Sebastian wasn’t quite as popular with his professors since he wasn’t one to shy away from a fight or any kind of altercation. He was definitely one for defending any of his friends that were a little too shy to do it themselves. Even if it meant landing himself in detention with a black eye or a split lip. His parents told him time and time again that he could still support his friends without getting in fights to defend their honor but that never really seemed to stick in his brain.

But as Sebastian got older especially when he began his fifth year, he knew he had to change something. He knew he had to find some kind of career once he got out of Hogwarts and getting into fights and detention wouldn’t exactly help with that. When he was younger he was hoping he’d end up being a gifted flyer so he’d be able to play on a professional quidditch team. But as it turned out, Sebastian hated flying and was also awful at it. Which was when he discovered being an auror, he knew it’d requite a lot of work and focus but he was determined.

Describe their adult years (20+): Sebastian soon after was able to call himself an auror and he was over the moon about it. His parents were excited for him too, of course, although they weren’t particularly sure what his job meant. They tried to though and that was enough for him. Once Sebastian began his job it was definitely way different than he thought it was going to be, more paperwork and it was extremely dangerous. The first few raids didn’t exactly go according to plan but Sebastian couldn’t deny he loved the rush he got when they actually caught somebody. It was exhilarating and they were doing something good, a two for one.

But the longer that Sebastian was in his position the quicker he realized how corrupt the wizarding world really was. There were blood purists and Death Eaters working right under their noses, who looked so smug when the muggle bans were passed that Sebastian thought he was going to lose his job that day. He knew he needed to do something but what was there for him to do? That was around the time that Sebastian found the Crimson Allies, a group he really connected to on a deep level. He knew that joining them was the right decision and was the way to get the wizarding world to change. 

[scripttorture]

CULT WIP Hi there~! So I'm working on a cult WIP and I know a common way to control people in a cult is sleep deprivation. I've looked through your sleep related tags and the cult one, but right now I'm wondering about the long con of sleep deprivation. My idea is that to keep people controlled they get less sleep than they should (your posts have made me up it from three hours per night to five per night) and the higher ups in the cult are allowed the full amount of sleep they need; (1/2)

CULT WIP (2/3) that way they operate better than others. I've jotted down a bunch of effects you've brought up but here's the thing. What if that sleep deprivation lasts forever? Like it's just a normal part of life once you hit adulthood? (I don't think kids could withstand it so I figured just not to do it). I know the Heaven's Gate cult used a lot of sleep deprivation and they lasted for ~three years so there must be some way to/balance to keep people functional, I just can't think of how.CULT WIP (3/3) Not actually part of the question but I just wanted to say THANK YOU for this blog!! It's fascinating, especially for me since I'm in grad school to be a therapist so that aspect is really interesting, and you put an incredible amount of work into all this. ~Jessica

Thankyou, it’s always nice to hear I’ve been helpful. :)

I’mgoing to go into this one with the caveat that so far as I know, noone has done this experiment. There isn’t a studied group of peoplewho have been restricted (or restricted themselves) to five hours ofsleep a night every day for their entire adult life. There are peoplewho’ve done this for a number of years and people who do this 5-6nights a week and then sleep more on the weekend for decades at atime. Now all three situations are bad for someone, but a thoroughstatistical analysis on a decent sample size might show differencesbetween them.

Sopart of this is what we know happens to the first two groups and partof it is extrapolating based on that.

Thefirst thing we knowhappens (based on the two studied groups) is a shorter, unhealthierlife.

Ihesitate to put a figure on how much shorter because it seems to varyquite a bit between individuals and I don’t know of any statisticalstudies that have put a number on it. But I think you can safely takeat least ten years off every character’s life expectancy based onthis alone.

Therates of a lotof different diseases and conditions increase. Cancer rates rise, formultiple forms of cancer. Rates of strokes and heart attacks rise.Dementia rates rise.

Nowall of those conditions are usually diseases of age. You canhave a heart attack or a cancer diagnosis as a young person, but thechances of it happening are much more likely after you hit about40-50.Lack of sleep doesn’t seem to effect the age these conditionsmanifest. It doeseffect the chances of them happening in vulnerable ages though.

Essentiallyif you take a group of 40-50 year old non-cultists from your valleysetting (I hope you don’t mind me looking at your blog? Lovelypictures by the way) less of them will have or have had cancer,strokes, heart attacks and early signs of dementia. As the populationages further the gap will become starker. Less of the cultists willsurvive to their 70-80s and those that do will be less healthy thenthe non-cultists.

Diabetesrates also increase with lack of sleep. This doesn’t appear to beage related. It is however unclear whether it’s because of theeffect lack of sleep has on the immune system or because of theeffect it has on our appetites. People who sleep less eat more andtheir bodies drive them towards more high fat and high sugar foods.

Idon’t understand the link between weight and diabetes very well, soI’m not going to talk about it in any depth. The general point I’mdriving at is that if your cult tightly controls diet that mightcounteract the rise in predisposition to diabetes. But the data isn’tentirely clear on that point.

There’salso a general rise in illness and infections. That contributes todecreased life expectancy but also means more sick days. Less timewhen any one individual can productively work.

Partof what this is gearing towards is this: I’m not sure it would bepossible to consistently keep someone on five hours sleep a nightonly for their entire life without a huge death rate.

It’sthe illnesses. I think if cult members were denied sleep while sick(especially if they’re also forced to work or their diet iscontrolled) then- well I think there’d be a lot more people dyingfrom common, preventable illnesses. Not instantly. Not within thefirst decade. But in the longer term or thirty or so years.

Onthe other hand if the cultists who are ill aregetting enough sleep then you don’t strictly have five hours sleepa night for the rest of their lives. What you’ve got instead issomething more like ‘five hours sleep a night until you reachphysical collapse, then you can rest’.

That’sextremely unhealthy, painful and harmful. But it’s less likely tokill so many people so quickly.

Partof the issue is how ‘functional’ the characters need to be. Atfive hours, it would be dangerous to drive or operate other heavymachinery. Accidents would be more likely. Mistakes would be morelikely.

Butthat doesn’t mean these characters couldn’t do most of the day today tasks required to keep a small community going.

It’snot that the cooking couldn’t get done, it’s that the chances ofdropping a pan full of boiling water on someone’s foot is a lothigher. Less that complex tasks can’t get done and more that they’dtake longer, be completed less well, less effectively and there’dbe a higher chance of accidents on the way.

Incidentallyif a big part of this story is the standard tactic of elite membersof the group making other members feel less confident in themselves-usethis effect of sleep deprivation to help accomplish that.Because people who are sleep deprived thinkthey are physically and mentally capable of more than they are.

Youcan sit them down and say ‘Listen S, the low amount of work you’vegotten through this month is unacceptable. We agreed that you couldfinish this project in a week and it’s taken two. You’re just nottrying hard enough’

Andtheywill agree.Because they don’t know how impaired they are. It’sone of the stranger effects that consistently shows up in testing andI feel like it’s very relevant here.

Theincrease in workplace accidents is also affected by the decrease inimmune function. Accidents are more likely andrecovery from them takes longer.

Theother thing that stands out to me is the effect this would have onthe living environment generally.

Sleepdeprived people are emotionally volatile. They also tend towardsbeing distrustful of others and paranoia. Again this isn’tsomething they necessarily recognise.

Whichmakes for a pretty horrendous environment when you think about alarge group of people living in fairly close quarters andunable to really avoid each other.

Thinkabout how this meshes with the rise in accidents, forgetfulness andgeneral tiredness that go along with sleep deprivation and you’llsee what I mean. Someone drops the hot pan and it just misses someoneelse’s foot- was it deliberate? Someone forgets where they putsomething- obviously it was stolen. There was a stray shoe left outin the hall and a character almost tripped over it- clearly whoeverleft it there knew thatcharacter could/would trip.

Andso forth.

Fromthe point of view of your cult leaders this sort of misery andemotional upheaval is a positive. It makes it harder for people toorganise or relate in an authentic way to each other in the longterm. It couldmake it especially hard for parents and children to keep up apositive relationship, comparedto the relationship the children could have with the cult leaders.

Becausethe parents will always be too tired, too grumpy, too unpredictable,to relate well to a young child. Whereas the well rested cult leaderscould appear calmer, kinder andseem to have more time.

There’svariation within all of this obviously. Despite damagingcircumstances some people do live to a ripe old age and don’tdevelop cancer more than ‘normal’ people would (chemistryprofessors over 80 are an interesting breed). Some people may stillbe able to show some patience and kindness despite the effects sleepdeprivation has on emotional regulation.

Moneyand treatment can also extend the life of someone who is routinelysleep deprived and suffers from multiple health problems as a result.

Ifyou’ve read my previous posts then I think you’ll have an idea ofindividual symptoms and how they get progressively worse. A lot ofthis ask was me- not just trying to map out what the indefinite timeframe you have would look like but the effect it would have on agroup and the relationships within that group.

Ihope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[hymn2000]

Hope I’ve Got Something To Lose - MCU AU fanfic - C16

Story overview: Peter has an accident, and Tony makes a drastic decision. In the midst of everything, a face from the past reappears - but Peter isn’t too sure about reconnecting after everything that’s happened.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9  10  11 12 13 14 15

Part of my irondad and spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: injury, hospital stuff, hurt/comfort, mental health stuff, family stuff, corporal punishment, friendship

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 16 - High Rise

-

Liz and Flo jumped awake violently at the sound of Peter screaming. They looked at each other for a moment, trying to register what was going on, and then scrambled out of bed. They pushed open Peter’s door, finding him held tight against Loki’s chest, his face hidden.

“Peter!”

“Are you ok?! What’s happened?!”

“Girls” Loki said. “It’s ok, I’ve got this. Go back to bed”

The girls looked uncertain, but did as they were told, tactfully closing the door behind them. 

Loki held Peter tighter, rocking him gently.

“Shh. It’s ok, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You’re ok”

Peter just clung to him and cried.

“It was just a nightmare. You’re safe now”

“I’m scared..!”

“I know, darling, I know. Shhh. Shh, it’s ok. I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere”

-

Once Loki had got Peter calmed and settled, and the boy was asleep again, he went and knocked on the twin room door. The girls were sat up in the respective beds, and they looked up at Loki worriedly when he opened the door.

“Is he alright? What happened?” Liz asked, biting her lip.

“He’s fine: it was just a nightmare” Loki said, leaning against the door frame.

“Must’ve been one hell of a nightmare. What was it about?”

“Never you mind. Now, are you two ok? I understand it can be quite distressing”

“My heart’s still thumping just a little bit” Flo said. 

Loki smiled sympathetically at her. “Do you need anything?”

Flo shook her head. “If he’s ok, I’m ok”

“Alright. Liz?”

Liz tore her eyes away from Loki’s bare chest showing through his dressing gown, and shook her head.

“Is there anything we can do for him?”

“Maybe just don’t mention this in the morning. He’ll probably still be a little upset, and rather embarrassed to boot. It doesn’t pay to draw attention to these things”

Liz and Flo nodded. 

“Of course. We won’t mention it”

“Good girls. Thank you” Loki said. “Go back to sleep, please. I’ll see you in the morning”

-

The girls were true to their word in the morning. Loki trusted Flo, but he held his breath when Liz opened her mouth. She didn’t mention what had happened in the night, and Peter, although a little tired-looking, seemed happy enough. 

“Sorry about the meagre breakfast” Tony said, fumbling through Loki’s coat pockets for his cigarettes and lighter. “We only grabbed a couple of bits when we stopped off, and I was way too lazy to get up early and go out for more stuff. We’ll do a full shop today. You kids can go down to the sea and do some exploring while we’re shopping”

“Oh dad, can’t we come? Please?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, kiddo: it wouldn’t be fair on your friends”

“I don’t mind” Flo said. “I’ve never been to England, so I’ve never seen an English supermarket before. It might be interesting”

Tony looked at her, and then looked at Liz. “Deciding vote?”

Liz looked at Peter and Flo, and then nodded at Tony. “I don’t mind either”

“Right. Ok. We’ll go after you’ve all gotten dressed” he said, grabbing his coffee mug. “Loki, darling? Draw up a quick list while I’m outside, ok?”

Loki looked at him. “Fine. You owe me another packet of cigarettes, you know”

“Fine, fine. Just write the list”

-

Tony couldn’t help feeling ever so slightly regretful once they reached the supermarket. If he had just had Peter with him, fine. But two extra teenagers? It was a bit of a crowd in the aisles. He looked at them, hearing but not listening to their babble, and seeing Flo shivering in front of one of the big fridges.

“Right” he said.

They all stopped and looked at him.

“This isn’t really practical. Flo, why don’t you go with Loki? Go and get a drink or something in the cafe. Peter, Liz” he tore the shopping list in two and handed one half to them. “Go and find this stuff, and then come and find me when you’re done”

They dispersed, and as Tony was left alone, he sighed happily to himself. Sometimes it was nice to be able to do things on his own.

-

“I’ve never seen someone so contented in a supermarket before” Liz said.

“Hm?” Peter looked at her. “Ah. Well, it’s familiar territory, this. I like going back to things that I had before-... before everything happened, yknow?”

Liz put a hand on his arm. “Do you pretend everything’s back to how it was before May died?”

“Sometimes” Peter admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. But sometimes everything just kinda hits you, and pretending things are different is easier than facing up to the reality”

“I know. 90% of the time, my dad’s just on a business trip”

Peter stopped for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but Liz took the shopping list from him.

“Ok, what’s next..? I don’t even know how to say that”

Peter looked. “Choux buns. Wow, you can tell daddy Loki wrote this list”

“What’s a choux bun?”

“They’re like, puffy pastry things filled with cream. They’re a good thing”

“Oh right. Well” she folded the list. “Let’s go and find some, then”

“They’ll be in fridges. There’s like, a counter?”

“Is Loki.. into sweet things, then?”

“Uhh. Well, he’s got a sweet tooth, if that’s what you mean” Peter said. “We all like cream cakes, though. Why?”

Liz shrugged. “I was just wondering”

Peter looked at her. “You’re still trying to figure him out, aren’t you?”

“Maybe just a little bit”

-

Liz couldn’t help trying to figure Loki out. Maybe it was just that he wasn’t human, but there was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. She wasn’t too sure about him. Tony and Peter obviously thought the world of him, and Flo seemed very fond of him, too. Loki seemed to be friends with Flo, and he was very different with Flo than he was with Liz. Maybe he didn’t like her very much. Or maybe he was still trying to figure her out as well.

-

Once they got back to the house, Peter tried to put himself to use and help put the shopping away like he usually did. He barely lasted a minute before Tony suddenly picked him up, carried him out of the kitchen, and put him back on his feet in the corridor.

“What did I do?!”

“Nothing, sweetheart. Look, you’re supposed to be on holiday. Why don’t you and your friends go out for a bit? Have a walk down to the seafront”

“Isn’t it, I don’t know, lunch?”

“Peter, please, act like a teenager. Go and blow loads of money on sweets and crisps and chocolate. Tide yourself over that way”

“Aw dad, I don’t know”

“There’ll be Mr Whippy’s on the way down” Tony said, trying to tempt him. He looked at him, and sighed. “Kid, there’s two girls in the other room who are only here because of you. Make the most of this. Go on. Go out”

“Umm...”

“Peter” Tony said, starting to feel a little exasperated. “Go out, and act like a kid. I’m giving you the freedom. Grab it. Ok?”

Peter shuffled uncomfortably. 

Tony grabbed him by the shoulders. “Peter, for gods sake. Why aren’t you jumping at this?”

“...I don’t know”

Tony kissed him hard on the cheek. “If you’re not out of this house in three minutes, I’m going to give you one hell of a smack”

Peter spluttered, and laughed. “Ok, ok. I’ll go and get my friends”

Tony breathed out, and ruffled his hair. “Good boy”

-

Despite knowing Tony’s threat was nothing more than a joke, Peter still made sure him and the girls were out of the house less than three minutes later. It was a warm afternoon, and relatively quiet.

“Maybe we shouldn’t’ve had that long of a lie-in” Liz said. “It’s starting to get late already”

“Hardly” Peter said. “It won’t get dark for ages yet”

“I was thinking more about the shops”

Peter stopped, looking at the window of the shop they were passing. Liz was looking too, as was Flo. 

“It’s not like we’re only here for one day” Peter said. “Let’s just go down to the sea”

“I’d like to look in the shops, too” Flo said.

“But we wouldn’t have time to look in all of them today anyway! Come on, let’s go down to the sea. Please!!!” Peter whined, grabbing hold of their arms.

“Don’t be such a baby, Peter” Flo said. 

“Please!”

“Alright, fine! But we’re getting up at a decent time tomorrow so we can do the shops” Liz said. “Now get off my arm!”

Peter did, grinning triumphantly. “We can get a Mr Whippy on the way down”

“What’s a Mr Whippy?”

“You’ll find out in a minute”

-

Flo watched Peter fondly as the three of them leant against the big concrete wall overlooking the beach, grazing their elbows on the wall. Peter had his eyes closed, focusing of the feel of the wind on his face and the distant sound of the sea. 

“You look like a little puppy dog” Flo said. 

Peter opened his eyes. “It’s good just to feel the sea air, yknow?”

“You’ll be feeling that ice cream dripping down your hand before long” Liz said. 

Peter licked the melting drops of ice cream from the cone, and resumed eating.

“When we first went to England, we went to a seaside town called Whitby. It’s real different than this. But daddy Loki used to take me down to the old fish market, by the pier, and we’d buy ice cream. And then we’d go onto the pier and he’d lift me onto the wall, and I’d sit and he’d stand with his elbows up on the wall, and we’d eat our ice cream and watch the waves. We did it every evening while dad did his own thing for a bit. We always ended up getting wet: the waves around that pier are mad”

“So he likes the seaside too?” Liz said.

“Aside from the sand. He’s not a fan of sand. He likes the rest of it, though”

They were quiet for another minute or two, crunching their cones.

Flo cleared her throat. “Well, shall we go down and take a stroll along the stones now that we’re here?”

“Yes, lets” Peter said. “Race to the sea?”

“I’ve got sandals on” Flo said.

“Well, whose fault is that?”

“Why don’t we work out how to actually get down to the sands before we debate this?” Liz said.

Peter looked round. “I wouldn’t bet on it being sandy. We just need to go up here and then down, and then there’ll probably be some steps down from there. Or we can just wander all the way up, and it might meet the beach”

They decided on just walking straight. They took their time, looking at all of painted murals along the walls on the walk. Even then, it wasn’t long before the path petered out and they found themselves walking on stones. 

“You were right..” Liz said.

“Don’t sound so surprised” Peter said, sticking his chin in the air. “Are we having this race or not?”

“I’m not” Flo said.

“Well, I am” Liz said. She gave Peter a little shove. “Come on then”

“Oh, uh..” Peter looked at Flo.

“She’ll be fine. You can look after my bag, can’t you?” 

Flo would have sighed, but she didn’t want to it to look like she was sulking. Instead, she smiled and took Liz’s bag.

“I’ll walk over, but I’ll be slow joining you” she said. “Peter, phone”

Peter handed it over for safekeeping, and gave her a quick kiss. “Thank you”

He turned to Liz. She smiled at him, and nodded. He nodded back - and they ran.

Liz was faster than Peter expected. She was just as competitive as he was, and he didn’t for a minute think about letting her win. He lost track of where he was, and very nearly careered straight into the sea. He managed to stop before he went headlong. He steadied himself, turning round - and Liz very nearly knocked into him as she caught up to him. Peter caught hold of her, spinning them round. 

“I win” he grinned.

“Only just!”

“Only just? I was a good twenty seconds ahead of you”

“Yeah, only just” 

She stopped, looking at him, holding onto his arms, still catching her breath. 

“What are you looking at?”

“I don’t know, but it’s looking back”

“Ha ha, very witty” Peter said. “That’s how dad always responds”

“Tragic”

She pulled away from him, looking out at the sea. 

“This is nice”

“Yeah... Fancy a paddle?”

They took their shoes off and put them at a safe distance, and then they took each others hands and stepped closer to the waters edge. The waves were rolling in, and they both squeaked a little as the water lapped at their feet.

“It’s bloody freezing!” Peter said, jumping back.

“Maybe we should back out”

“No, we said we’d paddle. Let’s just jump in”

“I’m not jumping!” Liz said, pulling her hand away from his. 

“Don’t be a wimp” Peter said, giving her a little push.

“I’m no wimp” Liz said, pushing him back.

Peter pushed her again, Liz pushed him, and they started a mega-wrestle, soon tripping over and falling flat on their backs into the sea. They both lay in shock for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Once he’d started, Peter couldn’t stop. The sun was shining down on him, and the cold of the sea and the sound of Liz laughing, and the feel of being beside her felt so good. He felt so good.

They fell quiet after a little while. Liz turned her head to look at Peter, and he turned his to look at her.

“I’m really glad I persisted with seeing you again” she said. “I would’ve missed out on moments like this if I hadn’t gotten your number”

“I’m glad I stopped pushing you away. Liz... I’m glad you’re here”

Liz smiled at him, looking into his eyes and not caring about her soaked hair and clothes. 

“You are happy, aren’t you? Despite it all”

Peter didn’t answer her question. “Do- did your parents ever sing to you?”

Liz blinked a bit. “They did when I was little. Lullabies and stuff. Why?”

“I’m jus’ thinking”

“I’m guessing your parents sing to you?”

“Yeah, they do. Mainly dad. He sings a lot, actually. He’ll sing along to most anything”

“What does he sing to you?”

“Stupid songs when he’s being silly” Peter said. “I like it when he’s not messing about. It kinda makes you realise what they mean when they say it’s the food of love, and why babies like being sung to”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just... nice. Y’know?... You think I’m a baby, don’t you?”

Liz smiled. “That doesn’t answer my question”

Peter took her hand. “They get all gooey over me and I like the fuss. They make me feel small”

“Why? What do they say?”

“I don’t mean like that! I mean, like, literally, I think? I feel like I’m little. Daddy especially is always calling me little and tiny and small”

“Ok, I think I understand. So, the singing? The non-messing about stuff, obvs”

“... Well, sometimes it’s at night, and sometimes it’s not... Sometimes, dad just kinda hugs me close, y’know, and he keeps me warm and kinda like, messes with my hair and sings to me...”

“What kind of songs?”

Peter turned his head so he was looking straight up at the sky. “Gentle love songs, mostly. Ambiguous ones. I don’t know. Just... gentle songs. Like that old Close To You song”

“How does it go?”

“Y’know, it’s that one that starts like, why do birds suddenly appear?”

“Oh yeah, I know the one you mean”

Liz shifted closer to him, turning onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow. She rested a hand on Peter’s chest, looking down at him. She fancied she knew what he was feeling.

“Does he look at you when he’s singing?”

“It depends. He does, but not always. Sometimes he closes his eyes, and sometimes he kinda puts his head against mine... Sometimes daddy puts on gentle playlists when he sees we’re spending time together, and then dad just kinda sings along without thinking...”

“What does he sing? Ok, I get it’s probably a pretty big list, but there must be some favourites”

Peter thought for a moment. “Have you ever heard ‘If I Were A Sailboat’?”

Liz shook her head.

“I’ll find it for you later. I can’t pronounce the surname of the lady who sings it. He sings a few of her songs. They’re good to fall asleep to. Dad’s got a nice voice. I like the way he sings her songs. He usually looks at me when he sings Nine Million Bicycles”

“Is it all love songs?”

“Some are almost love songs, but I think actual love songs hold the right tone for him... He sings to daddy too. I kinda like it when they cuddle and he sings to him. I know it’s corny, but you can see how much hey love each other when they do” Peter admitted. “Uncle Thor said to me once, that he’s seen my dads together, and he’s seen me and dad and... well, he basically said, romantic love and paternal love are very different kinds of love, but he could always see it in dad’s eyes. He said any idiot would”

“This is really important to you, isn’t it?”

Peter put his hand over hers on his chest. “Liz, after the accident, it took so long for me to feel safe again. Look, dad used to sing to me before the accident too, but, well... I don’t really know how to say it. But it makes me feel safe, and lucky. I mean, not everyone has a loving family, right? I don’t always like my parents, but I do love them. I know they love me, too, but it’s nice when we have those times when they really make me feel loved. You know?”

“No. But I think I understand” She squeezed his hand tight. “Keep talking. What else does he sing to you?”

“Elton John, a little bit. Just gentle stuff, like I said. Sometimes Elvis. Sometimes a whole bunch of songs who I don’t know who they’re by. Songs I’d know if I heard but wouldn’t be able to name”

“Maybe we could sit and listen to a whole load together some time. Just us?”

“I’d like that” Peter looked at her, very aware of how close her head was to his. “Have you ever seen the film ‘Ghost’?”

“Yes. I don’t think I could bear to watch it again” 

“Me neither. At least, not alone...”

Liz gently rubbed her nose against Peter’s. Peter held her hand tight, letting his eyes close, ready and willing to let it happen-

“Sorry I took so long!”

The two sprung apart at the sound of Flo’s voice. They sat up quickly, both hoping Flo wouldn’t notice their flushed faces. 

“What are you doing, sitting in the sea? You’re both soaked!”

She seemed none the wiser, and started fussing over their clothes. Peter and Liz looked at each other, and as they made eye contact, both had to admit to themselves that that moment wasn’t meant to be.

*

[asdfghjkl1x1]

Blue | Angela

The next morning didn't make much difference in the physical aspects, but it'd be a lie if Angela didn't admit she was happy. She felt good, waking up in a decent and 'clean' bed for once. She ran her hand s along the sheets. No one slept there but their owner and herself, and she couldn't say anything against the former, she's been strict in some things, yet kind. It made her feel welcome.

After going out of bed, she looked out of the window and saw the bluest sky she's seen in ages. Angela thought that it might be a good idea to go out and paint. She took a clean canvas, her paint, all recently bought and went outside to sit on a bench. She hasn't been in such a good mood to paint in a long time, and frankly, she felt like she was meant to be there.

All shades of blue, the brushes were precise and she barely blinked while painting, Angela was so into it, that she jumped all of sudden when hearing Céleste's voice behind her. "My God… Are you going to kill me this time?"

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to see what you were trying to paint"

"It's just the sky. It's exceptionally blue today, and I wanted to try my new paint."

"True. It sort of reminds me of my father's favorite shirts. They were all blue, he wore them with a wine tie, white blazer and pants. I remember it like it was yesterday." Céleste, in her habits, sat next to Angela.

"May I know about your family?"

"There's not much to tell, I spent more time away from them than anything, but my papa made sure we all spent time together on weekends when I went home" she sighed "Mama was just.. a regular person, I guess, but she loved me and my father, sure, I do have to confess that my father and I made a better connection. He was a kind man, always smiling, and patient. The world could be ending and he would always come up with some hopeful speech. Quite the optimistic."

Angela giggled "Sounds a lot like my father, except that he used to laugh loud about most things, good or bad. If it's good news, it's because it earned it, if it was bad ones, he did it to shake away the the negative vibes." then turned to Céleste "You and your mom weren't that close?"  

"We weren't, not because we didn't like each other, but because we spent a considerable time away from each other, and she died when I was 14. Worst years for my father, he was devastated. Though the next day after the funeral he was all back in business. He patted my shoulder and said 'life must go on'. He took special care of me, at the cost of his own mental health. He would cry at nights… among other things." Céleste looked away.

"Other things?"

"I started to notice somethieng different in his arms. There were marks, like yours. They were old, but some others were new. He would always say that he cut when shaving or cutting vegetables" Céleste sighed deeply "He was like you, Angela. A masochist. And one night, I caught him in the act" then chuckled "Of course, I was a child back then, I didn't know what was going on, and I was so scared, I called an ambulance. Seeing him bleeding made a big impact on me, so I get easily worried about those who harm themselves, whether there are suicidal intentions or not."

Angela pursed her lips "I'm sorry for asking that. But just so you know, I've never tried to kill myself."

"I know" the nun smiled at her. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have taken care of Grace that well."

Angela's went wide "How do you know about that?"

"I know more than you think" she smiled at her. "Probably even more than you" such statement made Angela gulped. I knew there was something.

"Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, the doctors treated my father for a few days, and he went back to normal, until another night came and he harmed himself." Céleste looked up "He told me he couldn't help it, that he needed it, that mom used to know how to relieve that, so I asked him to find himself a girlfriend" she shuit her eyes and shook her head slowly "I wish I never said that. Because every night he came back crying, because some woman found him disgusting."

The nun's chest went heavy "I'm  telling you, I even got to see a woman kicking him with utter disgust. And that night, I asked him to teach me how to help him. He refused many times, so I escaped, and asked his doctor, but he obviously thought I was crazy, some psychologist ehard our discussion and gave me the direction of a local dominatrix. Irene. She taught me everything there was to know about BDSM. About masochism, sadism, dominants and submissives, all the plays as well."

"W— How? You were 14" Angela tried her best to not start running a question after the other.

"Angela… it was that or seeing my father, my only family, die before my eyes, I was desperate" the nun shut her eyes and swallowed at the memory. "Back then, I was dating Régine. She was my only escape from what was happening. No matter the time, or the place, she'll find a way to be there for me. She asked me many times what was going on, why I looked like I didn't sleep in days." she snorted "How to tell her I did my homework on a dominatrix's dungeon?" then smiled "It's a bit ironic how everything ended up."  

Angela tried to smile, but couldn't, she was sad about her, especially when she understood that feeling. "And… what happened with your father?"

"...I did what I had to do."

Angela froze, she couldn't think nor voice out anything, except that her thoughts about the nun were confirmed.

"He refused many times, but I insisted over and over, at the end he gave in. I beat him, and then went to sleep. He would be bruised the next day, but at least he was smiling again, and alive. That's all I wanted." then frowned "What I didn't know was that it was going to turn into some sort of habit, one that trascended home. It started to show in my behaviour, especially towards Régine. Everytime she felt hurt, I wanted to hurt her more. Sometimes, I would hurt her on purpose, just so I made sure she was alive" she looked away "So, when I realized about it, I had to tell her everything" then smiled "She stayed."

Angela was holding her breath trying to know what was coming next.

"And we visited the dominatrix for her training. She learned really fast. Even wore a collar once, for me. After we grew up, and she joined the French Legion she didn't even want to see collars, because during one of her missions she was tortured, so she now doesn't like collars nor metal handcuffs. She gets panic attacks if you try to use those on her, or feels a bit uncomfortable when seeing them. The collars not so much now, though."

"Why you guys broke up?" Angela felt the need to know.

"Because she was no masochist, nor submissive. As soon as she found out, she told me, and I couldn't harm her anymore. It was impossible for me to submit to her, so we tried to keep our relationship clean, but it didn't work." Céleste noticed how the sky was a darker blue now "We changed. We didn't want to be with the other anymore. We got graduated, I went to the convent, she joined the French Legion. We still met every time she came back, until that ugly mission, she was back bruised, injured, highly affected, and wasn't alone."

"There was someone else?"

"Yes. The man who would become her husband a few months later: Pierre Beaumont. They got married the same day I took vows. My father remarried, and was happy, then a year later he died in an accident, and I gave Régine all my fortune." she took a deep breath "They lived on the castle for some time."  

Céleste looked up "That day on the church, I understood that submitting was not being a slave, but trusting yourself to someone else, and that was one big act of love. And just like that, my feelings for Régine resurrected. I could have stopped that wedding and the vow taking, but she was happy. That was all I cared about." she smiled. "And that's my very blue story for you, Mademoiselle Johnson."

Angela took a few breaths "That was… intense" then reached for the nun's hand "I'm sorry about everything."

"Don't worry, it's not like I'm unhappy, I spend time with the bravest submissive of all: Virgin Mary. Between you and me, I might have a crush on her." Angela laughed. "I mean it" the dark lady laughed harder.

"Look, the blue sky changed, is darker now."

"True" said Angela observing it "but it’s in peace." Céleste agreed.

[olivier--fontaine]

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Olivier Fontaine

Nickname: Fontaine

Birthday: March 22nd (ENTJ Zodiac)

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Place of Birth: South Kensington, London, UK

Places Lived Since: Paris, France

Current Residence: Earl’s Court, Kensington & Chelsea, London, UK

Nationality: British

Parents: Paul Fontaine (deceased) & Adele Fontaine (née Charpentier)

Grandparents: Louis Fontaine & Ines Fontaine (née Travers) (deceased); Arthur Charpentier & Emma Charpentier (née LeBlanc) (deceased)

Aunts & Uncles: Jeanne Charpentier

Number of Siblings: One - Thomas Fontaine

Relationship With Family: It was once good, but that was a long time ago. He learned a lot from his father, and maybe one day would’ve even learned how to make an honest living, but after his father passed things changed. He was always protective of his family, but the mother he once relied on for so much he now felt had to rely on him. It may have been viewed as a burden by others, but for Olivier, it was his duty. It was his parents who were so dedicated to their trades and their family that taught him one can choose their own duty, but once they do, they stick to it. He is still close with his mother and overjoyed to now have the chance to see her in person whenever he has the free time. There was a once a time when Olivier and Thomas could rarely be found away from each other, unless Olivier was out running an errand for his new bosses or Thomas had a big exam he wanted to study for in complete silence. Even in those instances, Olivier would bring Thomas along if it was a simple, safe task just to keep an eye on him and would work on “brain food” snacks and dishes with his mother for when Thomas took a break. Now, Olivier both fears and awaits seeing his brother around any turn. He’s not sure how to interact with the young man he once lived to provide a better life for. It sets him on edge just to think about what Thomas’s life is like now, and it’s the one thing that puts him in a terrible mood for an interminable amount of time.

Happiest Memory: Thomas’s fifth birthday when the whole family gathered in the kitchen to work on a dozen sloppy but delicious cupcakes together. Their father was deliberate and intricate with his work, their mother was a natural baker and chose only the brightest frosting colors for hers, and Thomas and Olivier just sort of threw things around and slapped as much frosting on as they could before devouring the cupcakes.

Childhood Trauma: Paul’s death was very, very difficult for Olivier. At some point he always knew that, being the older son, he may have to step up one day to take over his father’s shop, provide funds and food for his mother, and protect their home and family. The day just came well over a decade before Olivier was expecting. The pain he felt was only magnified by the pain he saw written everyday on his mother’s and brother’s faces. It was some years before Olivier actually had the maturity, mindfulness, and time to really deal with what happened to him and in his life after his father’s heart attack because he was always so concerned about the rest of his family over himself.

PHYSICAL:

Height: 6′3″

Weight: 220 lbs

Build: Tall and naturally muscular, made even bulkier by regular exercise and diet

Hair Color: Dark blond to light brown

Usual Hair Style: Short, neat, and gelled slightly when it gets a little too out of hand

Eye Color: Blue

Glasses? Contacts?: N/A, he received Lasik eye surgery when he began training to be a bodyguard so he would not be impaired or have to rely on contacts that could fall out.

Style of Dress/Typical Outfit(s): Clean cut, always. If his father could come home from a day in a mechanic’s shop with clean clothes, clean shoes, and even clean hands, he could come home at the end of his day with a still clean, still crisp outfit, too. His clothes are always functional but never at the risk of being unstylish. Before moving to Paris, he didn’t care about much more than just looking neat and put together. After years in Paris, however, he appreciates a chic suit. He gets most of his clothes tailored to fit perfectly and have extra pockets added for various weapons and first-aid items. His shoes are specially made so he feels just as comfortable running in his loafers as he does in his training sneakers. Even off the clock, if such a thing exists for a man in his position, he likes solid, flattering colors, matching his belts to his shoes, and hasn’t worn a pair of jeans in years. The only type of clothing he doesn’t care too much about is athletic wear, because he tends to wear down t-shirts, shorts, and sneakers too quickly to be too fussy. That’s the only exception, though. All his outerwear is neutral colored (tan or black, usually) but just as perfectly tailored as his suit jackets and pants. If he has the time and energy, he’ll even iron his pajamas before bed sometimes, especially in the winter.

Typical Style of Shoes: Leather oxfords, loafers, or boots while working depending on the weather, but his “casual” attire still consists of a couple pairs of loafers and some nice, solid colored sneakers.

Jewellery? Tattoos? Piercings?: A fleur de lis on the inside of his left ring finger.

Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: He rubs his hands together a lot, almost as if he’s trying to warm them up or get something off, but it’s just a habit and he does it at random.

Athleticism: Olivier has always been naturally athletic, but he had many issues when he was younger with listening to his coaches or other teammates. Individual sports proved to be best, and contact sports were ruled out entirely by his parents by the time he was eight.

Health Problems/Illnesses: None, he keeps very healthy.

INTELLECT:

Level of Education: Completed a high school level degree, and received further tutoring and “schooling” with the French to gain more knowledge in required areas.

Languages Spoken: English (fluent, native), French (fluent since youth), Arabic (approaching fluency)

Level of Self-Esteem: Fairly high, as Olivier has never really had a self-esteem issue. There are things from his past he’s not proud of, but he prefers not to dwell on the things from his past that cause him shame and only focus on what he can do in the future to handle the situations differently.

Gifts/Talents: Learns physical skills easily (fighting, sports, mechanics, etc), decent and admirable cooking skills, and very good, perceptive hearing abilities.

Mathematical?: Math was a class that Olivier tended to do better in until he reached his teen years and discovered it only got increasingly more complicated in ways he ceased to understand, so he ceased to care.

Makes Decisions Based Mostly On Emotions, or On Logic?: When it comes to day to day things and work-related situations, he usually goes with logical decisions. For the most part, at this point in his life, he can remain level-headed in tense, emotionally charged situations. Twenty years ago, even ten years, it was a different story and emotions could tend to overpower the logic - especially when the emotion was telling him to fight. He’s learned his lessons, been dealt his punishments, and knows now how to force down his own fist to take a smarter, more practical route for the most part. The “most part” doesn’t include Thomas, though, and never will. Emotions will always take over when it comes to his brother, for better or worse.

Life Philosophy: “Keep at it until it kills you, then come back for more.”

Religious Stance: Olivier doesn’t adhere to any one particular religion but is actually very interested in philosophical teachings, especially Eastern philosophy, and has slowly developed into a very spiritual person. His beliefs come from a myriad of ideologies that he’s sort of knitted together to form his own approach to life and religion. He believes in incarnation and the impact decisions in one life can have on another and he believes in that some variation of yin and yang exists within every person, between every person, and in all the spaces in between so everything eventually balances out (though there will always be periods of time when there’s imbalances because there are so many facets to human nature). He also believes that it’s important for everyone to look inward but have a way to project themselves outward. For him, the outward projection is punching something or shooting a gun. For others, it’s planting flowers. Things that go in - traumatic experiences, joyful moments - have to come back out somehow. He also believes that objects can be more than just things and hold substantial meaning for individual people, groups as a whole, or the entire universe. He believes the same in symbols, like the fleur de lis. It’s been some time since Olivier has read any new philosophical, spiritual, or religious readings, but he does try to take time every morning and night to practice mindfulness as he’s found that’s the most efficient way to keep his own body, mind, and fighting spirit in balance in a way that makes him a better man for his job and his organization. He believes that those moments of mindfulness can help make up for spontaneous decisions that may backfire or prepare him to make better impulsive decisions in the future.

Cautious or Daring?: Daring

Most Sensitive About/Vulnerable To: Anything to do with Thomas and his mother.

Optimist or Pessimist?: Optimist.

Extrovert or Introvert?: Extroverted.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Helena Bernard - his very first girlfriend. The two dated for about a year when they were sixteen/seventeen years old. They had many firsts together - first time having sex, getting blackout drunk, smoking cigarettes and pot, and some others that Olivier remembers fondly. Helena was an exciting, adventurous girl who seemed larger than life to a teenage Olivier and as he’s heard about her progress over the years knows she only grew more remarkable. No part of him believes they were destined to be together forever, but he does think, in hindsight, that they were destined for each other at the time. Helena was wise beyond her years and never pushed Olivier to speak about his father’s death or other things that were troubling him - though hindsight has also shown him that may have been because the focus in the relationship tended to be on Helena. She was just so magnificent in every way, how could she not want to talk more about herself than him? He somewhat understand the self-absorption. The two broke up amicably and it wasn’t long before Olivier departed for France, but he frequently received updates from his mother (who’d always adored Helena) about what the girl was up to until Noor came along.

Noor Desmarais - long-term girlfriend and former fiancée. Olivier first met Noor when she was in university and used to frequently go to the restaurant below where Olivier lived. She normally went with a group of friends after a seminar they had on Friday’s, and they tended to get there right around when Olivier would be returning home to make his own dinner or get ready to meet some other members of the organization. Noor was always friendly and outgoing, and there were numerous times when the group of students tried to invite Olivier, who was about the same age as them, to join them at least for a drink. Noor was usually the one who spoke for the group that otherwise had a rotating makeup, so she was the one Olivier spoke to the most. Though he always denied to join the group for dinner, after a few conversations with Noor, he was enamored and asked her out to dinner. The two technically were never exclusive and never referred to the other by any label, but neither dated or even found themselves interested in anyone else for the year that they spent dating. Olivier was never upset since he knew they couldn’t get too obviously serious considering Noor’s plans for her future - Peace Corps, then graduate school, then whatever else life threw at her that allowed her to help people. She’d had an impressive resume for academics and extracurriculars since she was a child (all of which Olivier heard quite a bit about) and it was no surprise to anyone when Noor was accepted into the Peace Corps. She left for her full 27 month commitment to help with community and economic development, and on good terms with Olivier who’s only ever wanted the best for the people he loved. Occasionally they sent letters back and forth, but neither were held back by the other’s absence and each had their flings while they pursued their career goals. When Noor came back, she started working for a non-profit and immediately went back to school for a Masters of Law degree. She and Olivier reconnected and had a lot to catch up on, but it was almost as if they’d never been apart. For a while they did stick to saying they were just casually dating, but Noor and Olivier were both more settled on what their future held - Olivier continuing to progress as a bodyguard (which Noor thought he did for a legal, professional company due to Olivier’s discrete way of talking about it) and Noor would pursue her Masters in Law, take an entrance exam to a CRFPA, complete the courses necessary for her CAPA, and try to find an apprenticeship somewhere in Paris. She did it all, everything she wanted, and Olivier was alongside her the whole time as he continued his progression through the organization. At Noor’s insistence, once they started living together, they split everything evenly even if he could afford significantly more (he of course fibbed a little about the cost of utilities and groceries and bore most of the financial weight wherever he could get away with it) and she refused to accept any gift more than €20. Olivier’s mother adored Noor before she even met the girl, and Olivier became very close with Noor’s parents over the years. When they were thirty-one, after Noor was settled in for a few months at a human rights law firm in the city, Olivier went to Noor’s family to ask them all - mother, father, and sisters - if they’d welcome him into their family properly as their son-in-law and brother-in-law. They were ecstatic, and Noor’s reaction, even if it was no surprise, is one of Olivier’s happiest memories to date. The engagement ring was simple, as Noor would have it no other way, and they wanted to keep the wedding small. Despite being a smaller wedding, there was still a lot to plan and they both were so busy that it took over a year to finalize some important aspects. They didn’t care, they were in no rush. They both worked long hours, but they thought they’d be in Paris forever and that they’d have plenty of time and when the time came years later that they wanted a family - they’d adopt, of course, it was something they both felt similarly about - they’d adjust their schedules however necessary. They were both loyal employees, though for remarkably different companies, even if Noor was still blissfully in the dark about that one major aspect of Olivier’s life. He was picky about who she met and it was understood by many close to him in the organization why he was so picky considering her profession, but she met many other bodyguards Olivier was familiar with and she willingly believed they all worked for the same professional company. Maybe she figured it out over the years that he worked with some unsavory characters, was aligned with people she’d never have the stomach to befriend, but Olivier was happy and came home in one piece so she didn’t always ask too many questions if she thought she was getting into potentially dark territory. Maybe one day they would’ve addressed it more fully, but an opportunity was on the horizon for both just months before their wedding date - Olivier was to be assigned to a St. Clair and Noor was offered a position in Vienna with the United Nations. It was a long and heartbreaking discussion, but Noor gave back the ring and Olivier returned all the books she’d bought him. Olivier moved out but paid the remainder of the rent at their old place until Noor was set to go to Vienna. At the very least, working for Delphine and moving to London has taken up enough of his time and energy that sometimes it’s hard to miss the woman he woke up next to almost everyday for eleven years.

SECRETS:

Life Goals: All Olivier ever wanted to do was provide for his family and keep them safe. It’s still a goal because it’s the kind of goal that continues forever, especially now that his family has extended to the entirety of the French organization. A newly acquired goal is to get his brother on the straight and narrow, but that still folds into the goal to keep his family safe and make their lives better. 

Dreams: To learn to sail and spend summers on the ocean. To spend an entire day meditating. To have a son who sees his father in the same bright light that Olivier viewed Louis both before and after his death. 

Greatest Fears: Materially, being dirt poor and having a gun at point blank range to his face. Abstractly, he fears his mother’s disappointment if she ever discovers more about where his income comes from. 

Most Ashamed Of: Leaving his family behind in London. Realistically, there’s no way he could’ve afforded at the time to move them out to Paris, and his mother would never leave her classroom in London, but he still always felt he should bring them with him. By the time he could afford it, his mother was even more entrenched in their old community and wouldn’t dream of it. 

Secret Hobbies: Cooking and baking, which was something he used to do with his mother when he was supposed to be spending more time on homework while his brother actually studied and his father was still at work.

Crimes Committed (Was he caught? Charged?): To be discussed later...

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

Night Owl or Early Bird?: A little bit of both, he doesn’t require much sleep

Light or Heavy Sleeper?: Light sleeper

Favorite Animal: Wolves

Favorite Foods: Extremely difficult to pinpoint, but French and Basque cuisines are his favorite

Least Favorite Food: Anything with imitation seafood

Favorite Book: The Way of Zen by Alan Watts

Least Favorite Book: Any and all Shakespeare plays

Favorite Movie: “Raiders of the Lost Ark”

Least Favorite Movie: “The Room”

Favorite Song:  “Je Suis Seule Ce Soir” by Léo Marjane

Favorite Sport: Rugby, soccer

Coffee or Tea?: Coffee in the morning, tea after 4pm

Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter?: Smooth peanut butter, but crunchy if a recipe calls for it

Type of Car He Drives: Whatever he’s told to drive by his bosses

Lefty or Righty?: Righty

Favorite Color: Blue

Cusser?: Not usually, though he was when he was younger

Smoker? Drinker? Drug User?: Doesn’t smoke or use drugs, and normally doesn’t drink aside from maybe a glass or two on a longer night off

Biggest Regret: Not convincing Thomas to move out of London when he was old enough for university. It doesn’t matter if it was a move to Paris or somewhere else in Europe or even over in the states, he just should’ve gotten him out of London sooner.

Pets: No, though he and Noor used to feed a stray cat that wandered near their home on a daily basis.