#skeleton key jewelry

[corundumb]

The first one is a personal one for myself, the rest I'm going to sell!! I'll be keeping them in my purse in their own special bag. For the time being I just have pendants.

The last one is inspired by Secret Garden, the hardest one to make I'm selling for $45, the flowers are $25. I plan to offer similar designs with customizable colors of thread, background, and metal for similar prices.

[sharkyswaters]

[deepfriedthrifting]

The very last of what I spotted on Friday afternoon🌞

[greenforestgoddess]

[blackroseenchantments]

Our etsy is currently down, but we have another shop location now!

See all our locations here-https://linktr.ee/blackroseenchantments

[craftsbycrozier]

https://etsy.me/4fYcDG6

These vintage inspired skeleton keys are a great gift for any age. These earrings could also represent the 21st key and symbolizes the transition into adulthood, and the key to their own life and future.

Approximate size: 1.5" - 2.25"

All products are hand-strung on fishing wire, thread, eye pins and head pins.

Screen images are intended to be a guide. Colors you see on your screen may not be the exact color of the product due to monitor settings, monitor pixel definitions, limitations of desktop scanners, digital photography, and dye lot variations. However, we strive to make our colors as accurate as possible.

We know you have a myriad of shoppes to choose from, so we would like thank you for choosing ours!

[theludicwitch]

https://ludicmooncreations.etsy.com/listing/1572457264

Check out these skeleton key earrings still in stock!

[thekeyholdersociety]

✨ Design Spotlight ✨

🗝️ Pathfinder [Genuine] Skeleton key Pendant Necklaces

For as long as I can remember I’ve been drawn to certain objects: a sparkly rock in a parking lot, a feather on the beach, or even an old, forgotten key in someone’s junk drawer. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I began to pay proper attention to that instinct and recognized it for what it truly was: the perpetual hunt for Magick and meaning in a world that everyone around me insisted was nothing more than mundane…but we knew better, didn’t we Key-Holders? 😉

Old keys are the type of object that have inexplicably been recognized throughout history for their other-worldly properties. Across countless countries and cultures, we seem to have an unspoken agreement that they carry with them a special sort of energy despite the fact that many of us carry them with us as we go about our day to day lives without much thought to what they really symbolize or what they can do for us on our journey when imbued with something as simple and prevalent as our intentions.

Keys are tools that open doors 🚪 in our lives, both literally and metaphorically. They represent the transition from one stage of life to the next and, historically, have even been given as protective talismans to individuals set to enter a new chapter in life. This could be the beginning of biological adulthood, a school graduation celebration, or in the traditional sense: through home ownership.

These everyday objects also bestow the wielder with a heightened sense of direction/intuition and are believed to help guide them towards the next “door” they’re meant to pass through as they journey through this plane and surround them with a shield of protection to ensure they arrive safely at the threshold.🧿🙏🏼

_______________________________________

One of my favorite discussions to have with new members of the Key-Holder Society typically begins when they ask me one very simple question: “does all of this stuff really work?”

To which I respond: “that’s entirely up to you, my friend.” ✨

Here’s the thing: Magick is inherently intertwined with what we know to be true about basic psychology. When you set your intention, make a point to continuously hold mental/energetic space for it, and align your actions towards supporting your goal(s), you’ll find that The Universe has a funny way of making sure you ultimately get whatever it is that you’re seeking out. Call it what you like, but I’ve never viewed the concepts of Magick as any less real than proven psychological phenomenons like the placebo effect. Through one avenue or another, we’ve seen time and time again over the course of human history that if you choose to believe it and take the steps to open yourself to it, you’ll find a way to achieve it; whatever IT may be, for YOU.

So rather than asking if Magick “really works”, I’d argue that a better question to ask yourself is “what do I have to lose if I choose to believe that it does? Or more importantly, what do I have to gain if I surrender to my intuition and trust that what is mine will find its way to me?”

~

For every locked door we encounter over the course of our lives, there’s one thing we can know for certain:

SOMEWHERE out there is a key…

waiting patiently for us to find it 🗝️🚪

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“TWO AURORA HOMES ROBBED IN EVENING,” Toronto Star. April 18, 1942. Page 8. ---- Woman Upstairs in Bed in One, Unaware -- Aurora, April 18 - Two homes - ransacked here last night. were jewelry and $14 in cash was stolen. Police believe thieves used a skeleton key to enter one home.

Joseph Clarke. 22. found the home of his mother, Mrs. A. M. Clarke. Catherine Ave., had been ransacked when he returned from a movie. Police believe entrance must have been gained by use of a skeleton key. No marks were discovered on the front door. Only jewelry was stolen.

The home of Mrs. Margaret Smith on Spruce St., two blocks north of the Clarke residence. was entered and a purse containing $14 and a credit card for a Toronto department store was stolen. Mrs. Edward Graham, daughter of Mrs. Smith. was upstairs in bed at the time.

[travelingthief]

Hades Devotions and Offerings

Learn About:

Parts of the Underworld

Rivers of the Underworld

Persephone

Embalming practices (ancient and modern)

Funerary rites and practices across cultures

Chthonic deities

Death magick

How gravestones are made/parts of a gravestone

Most common causes of death

Offerings

God of the dead and the Underworld:

Bones

Preserved dead animals (pinned bugs, wet specimens, taxidermy etc.)

Dog fur

Dog imagery

Cerberus depictions

Keys

Skulls/skeletons

Grave imagery

Graveyard dirt/regular dirt

Bident

Red wine, whiskey, bourbon

Mint, cypress, asphodel

Urns

Ashes

Pictures of dead loved ones

Persephone depictions

Dried flowers

Spices

Dead plants

Ghost imagery

Chains

Depictions of black animals

Black cloths

Black items

Crowns

Black candles

Snakes

Gravestone rubbings

Ashes of cremated animals/loved ones

Coffin imagery

Items from deceased loved ones

Family heirlooms

God of Wealth and Abundance

Silver/black jewelry

Gems and crystals

Coins/money

Cornucopia

Money bowl

Soil

Devotional Acts

God of the dead/Underworld

Walk in a cemetery 

Clean graves (properly and with permission)

Write an advanced directive/last will and testament

Wear black

Create an altar/shrine for dead loved ones

Leave flowers on old graves

Leave coins on old graves

Sit and visit with graves

Become death positive/death neutral

Accept death as a reality

Contemplate your morality

Donate to funeral costs

Assist bereaved people (with food, money, company, etc.)

Preserve dead animals

Embrace silence

Pray for roadkill

Sit with dead animals you see

Pray for the dead

Do ancestor work

Learn suicide warning signs

Learn overdose prevention

Learn CPR/first aid

Sit in total darkness, outside if possible

Live your life as fully as you can

God of Wealth and Abundance

Save money

Increase your financial literacy

Invest

Create a money bowl

Carry cash

Keep track of your finances

Pay your bills on time 

Donate to causes you care about

Create a weekly/monthly budget

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Scrub My Brain With Bleach - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi pays the price for snooping...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

As she moves to go, her foot catches something under the desk. It's a trunk, the wooden surface scuffed by frequent use. But the design's exquisitely ornate. The lid's inset with a mosaic of mother-of-pearl. It depicts a blue-haired sprite in a grove, a green dragonfly cradled in her palms. The motif is repeated in a band around the brass rim, where the dragonflies open and close their wings, their iridescent patterns shimmering as if in flight.

It reminds Vi of the folktales of Janna, passed into her tiny ear by Mom at bedtime. How the dragonflies were Janna's eyes, their luminous wings bearing the sparks of her magic. How they flitted through the old gardens of Oshra Va'Zaun, bestowing the Goddess's favor. How, should the light catch their wings just so, they'd grant a boon on a lucky soul.

And a kiss of fortune, upon their lips.

Jinx, Vi guesses, chose the box for its whimsy as much as its utility. She's plainly taken pains to keep it tidy. Despite the scratches on the varnish, its structure is solid, and its brass lid is freshly gilded. There's a padlock, burnished to a lustrous gleam, and a keyhole in the shape of a dragonfly's thorax. The key itself is a golden cruciform dangling off the chain that seals the lock.

For a moment, Vi wonders if the trunk is, in fact, a trousseau. Jinx hardly seems the type. Her idea of wedding finery would involve explosives more than lingerie—if she bothered to put anything on at all.

And yet the possibility's not as outlandish as it'd been while Vi was knuckling sleep-crumbs from her eyes in the guestroom.

The trunk is clearly a cherished possession. Maybe Jinx keeps her favorite jewelry here. Maybe she's got a cache of special grenades. Maybe she's hiding a skeleton. Or three.

Maybe Vi's a nosy, meddling shit.

But she can't help it. The trunk's so much like the hope-chest in Caitlyn's attic. Hers was a varnished lilac beauty, lined in rose-petal velvet, and neatly packed with sentimental relics. Her grandfather's bifocals. A pearl brooch from her mother's wedding day. Her father's favorite stethoscope.

And a threadbare pair of Vi's hand-wraps folded around a wispy strip of Caitlyn's panties.

Vi has teased her mercilessly over the last item. There was something so ticklish at the idea of the prim-and-proper Caitlyn Kiramman, with her fastidious manners and her blue-blooded airs, holding her very first fuck-me panties close to her heart—much less in the love-knot of Vi's grubby bindings.

"Just a memento," Caitlyn had squirmed, flushing scarlet. "Don't let it go to your head."

Vi smirked, thoroughly enjoying the display. "My head's the last place that's going, Cupcake. Never thought my wraps would rub shoulders with you skivvies. Let alone your granny's good silver."

"Oh, shut it!" Caitlyn snapped, flushing darker still. "If you must know, they're a reminder."

"Of what? How hard I rocked your world?"

"Not... precisely. I just wanted something real. To help me remember."

Vi was confused. "Remember what? I'm right here."

"I-I know." Caitlyn's lashes dipped. "But things could have turned out differently."

"How d'you mean?"

"That night. On the Bridge. It could have gone... terribly wrong."

"Yeah," Vi admitted, quieter. "But it didn't."

"Because of you."

"Huh?"

"Because you chose to come back." Caitlyn's eyes were shining, but earnest. "You chose to come back for me."

"It's not like you gave me a choice, Cait."

"But there was a choice." The sheen faded from Caitlyn's eyes. Only the earnestness remained. "You made yours. And I made mine. And I'd never have pictured it would lead to..." She trailed off, the flush creeping higher, except now the shyness was subsumed by an almost wistful wonder. "What I'm trying to say is: I wanted to keep a part of you with me. A part that's mine, and mine alone. So that if things ever went sideways, I could always remind myself: 'Caitlyn Kiramman, you took a leap of faith once. And it was the best thing you've ever done.'"

She'd looked at Vi then, and the naked emotion in her eyes was the sweetest torture. Vi's own face flamed. She was used to being the forward one in the flirtation game. To having the upper hand. Not being the one caught flat-footed and off her game.

"That's all the bindings are," Caitlyn whispered. "A reminder. Sometimes... even the craziest leaps can lead you home."

Against her will, Vi's eyes misted.

"Crazy leap, huh?" she managed, trying to regain her bravado. "Is that all I am to you?"

In reply, Caitlyn kissed her. Vi kissed back, a little roughly, just to prove a point.

When they parted on gasps, Caitlyn was smiling.

"You are," she breathed. "And I'd have you no other way."

They'd kissed, and kissed some more, and fallen into bed. But the shocky sweetness of the confession had never left Vi.

Not since.

Vi shuts her eyes, fighting the burn of tears again. In her hands, the trunk is heavy. The weight of a past. One that doesn't belong to her, not by a long shot. Whatever's inside is meant for Jinx, and only Jinx. Vi has no right to open it. Has no right, even, to be here.

Except there's a small voice in the back of her mind.

Wait.

Jinx's past, and the future, have always been tangled. Last night, the knot pulled taut, and her sister had nearly died. Vi had been dragged into the middle of it. So had the rest of the city. Maybe there's something in here that'll clue Vi in on how to unravel the mess. To keep Jinx from repeating her mistakes. From falling into the trap of believing her greatest failure was a childhood lapse that broke everything.

Or believing her only worthy gift is the power to fix it.

Maybe, just maybe, Vi can help.

The key fits into the lock with a delicate click. It turns. The padlock springs open. Vi lifts the lid. Inside are, in fact, mementos. But they're mementos of a life Vi's never seen. An eclectic mix of salvage, toys, and tools. Broken clocks, their innards dissected. Wind-up insects, their cogs and sprockets disemboweled. Half-empty canisters of spraypaint. A small cache of fireworks. A pile of old, dog-eared children's books.

Basically: a heap of shiny.

Vi recognizes her sister's magpie habit of hoarding glitter. The junk stuffed under Powder's bed was of a similar stripe: gears from Vander's old watch, diodes from garbage chutes, fistfuls of colored glass from the arcade, and a single, shiny golden gyroscope.

Vi's fingers touch the gyroscope, and the memory strikes her like lightning.

Ekko.

This was the gyroscope he'd gifted Powder, the twilit afternoon at the reservoir. The day he'd planted a smooch on her little sister, and stirred up a shitstorm when Vi caught them in the act. The day their world, tilting at precarious angles, had not yet gone sideways.

The day is gone, but the gyroscope is here.

Carefully, Vi lifts it out. She's stunned that it's survived the transition of past to present. The gold plating is untarnished. The mechanism is well-oiled. The tiny blue marble at the center, its facets winking, is still intact. As if, throughout the years, Jinx has treasured it more than all the deadly detritus in her possession.

Vi can't fathom why.

At the very bottom is a silk pillowcase. It's stuffed with mysterious flotsam. A small silver pendant shaped like a bird, its eyes made of tiny turquoise cabochons. A set of child-sized brass knuckles, the surfaces etched with a filigree of skulls. A plastic baggie stuffed with leaves, each one browned and crinkly with age.

And—what the fuck?

The curvature of a disquietingly sleek red object with a trigger that, when clicked, sets a row of gears whirring.

It takes a moment for Vi to recognize it as a vibrator.

"Shit," she says, and drops it fast.

It clatters back into the pillowcase, whirring. Vi switches it off, and knots the top tight. Her face smarts. She can't believe her little sister has a sex-toy. One she's seemingly designed to her own specs, judging by the unusual curves and polished contours and the silent-as-fuck mechanism meant to keep her old man from finding out.

Jinx, the Daddy's Girl. Jinx, the terrorist. Jinx, the sorceress.

Who, apparently, has been getting her rocks off.

"Goddamnit," Vi mutters. "I need to scrub my brain out with bleach."

[blues824]

How about having the Dorm leaders get paired with an s/o that makes jewellery?

Gender-neutral Reader

Riddle Rosehearts was surprised when you had presented him with a bracelet with rose charms on it. He had no idea that you had such a hobby, but he did find it very beautiful. He stores it in a very safe place, so that it has no chance of being broken. He actually purchases a proper jewelry box and another one so that you both can have it matching.

Leona Kingscholar was also surprised when you gave him a ring with a lion engraved into it. You explained that it was a small hobby of yours, and he acted as though it was nothing important. But, when you said that he could give it back, he immediately got defensive and said that you gave it to him and thus could not take it back.

Azul Ashengrotto did not expect to be given a silver bracelet with his name written in tentacles. It was definitely a very beautiful piece, and imagine the shock on his face when you told him that you made it. Low-key kind of wants you to make some jewelry for the Mostro Lounge, but also encourages you to make your own business if you so desire.

Kalim Al-Asim let out a gasp when you gave him a new pair of golden earrings, saying that you made them yourself. Now, they’re the only earrings he wears. They’re made of all gold, so luckily they go with every outfit he wears. He beams with both joy and pride whenever someone asks where he got his earrings from, because he can say that they are from his significant other.

Vil Schoenheit had a smile on his face when he received a small box with a note from you. He opened it to reveal a simple yet elegant pearl necklace. In his next photoshoot, he was fortunately wearing a few outfits that went with the pearls, and he wore them with pride. In the next publication of the magazine, the necklace you made for him made its debut as one of his (and your) signature pieces.

Idia Shroud shrieked when he got a box at the front door of the dormitory that was from you. He opened it to see one of those skeleton rings that he told you he wanted, and in the letter that was with it, you said that it was a hobby of yours to make jewelry. This man would have passed out had Ortho not dumped water over him. And, just so y’all know, his hair flickered but did not go completely out.

Malleus Draconia also had a smile on his face when you gave him a small box. He opened it to see an emerald pendant encapsulated in a silver casing. It looked very beautiful, and he thanked you deeply. The next night, he returned with a piece of jewelry that looked a tad similar. However, it came from his dragon’s hoard rather than your workshop.

[an0thergl1tch]

Remus headcanons because I am bored :

*This dude either had a giant ring of skeleton keys or can pick any lock because you know damn well you can’t keep him out of anywhere

*Logan and Remus trade information for fanfiction purposes “hey where is the safest place to stab someone I wanna give my main character trauma” “any place could kill a person however aiming for fatty areas of the stomach and thigh decreases the risk you will hit a major organ or artery” “thanks”

*Remus has every notification noise set to the Grindr ping, Janus has to silence remus’s phone when they go out in public.

*Remus doesn’t wear headphones when listening to music or watching videos in public he just plays it at max volume (he’s that dick, he would be that one guy walking around with a boombox.) He is not allowed the aux cord because otherwise he will play the raunchiest shit at max volume with all the windows down.

*Chronic iPad kid. Easiest way to shut him up is to give him a phone with angry birds on it.

*Clingy as hell, wants to go under your skin, is a biter. Also he’s fucking obsessed with fangs if you have fangs he will ask you to bite him.

*His room isn’t even scary it’s just shelves upon shelves of trinkets. Definitely has a sex toy collection somewhere though. He calls his room the sex dungeon to keep people from snooping around. Probably has a workbench somewhere with a sewing machine on it because he definitely is the type of punk to make ALL of his clothes. Makes a bunch of shit: jewelry, weapons, dolls, and probably has a assortment of taxidermy projects.

*Definitely into witchcraft and paganism, has multiple alters, some serious, some to random male celebrities Thomas has a crush on. Probably has some voodoo dolls stashed somewhere, among his very large handmade doll collection that may or may not of been due to Coraline.

*Oh he definitely has a fur suit somewhere in his room, your telling me this fucker doesn’t have one of those neon wolf fursonas, probably made it himself.

*So. Many. Scars. Half of them from Remus being a dumbass, half of them from Remus testing the limits of his immortality. “hmmm I wonder If jumping off the roof will kill me” “nope”

*Cannot take a compliment. If you compliment him he will immediately assume your trying to get in his pants. If you say it’s a compliment, he will malfunction.

*Fucking loves animals, all animals. ALL animals. Will try to pick up a wild bobcat. Along with his brother he also has the “all animals love me” Disney princess genes. Probably has befriended a murder of crows.

*Very good at making cocktails however you will be hammered after a single glass because he is quite heavy handed.

[simplegenius042]

OC/s as Greek Deitiey/s, Flower Aesthetics and "How Does My OC's Story End?" Quiz

Tagged by @raresbaby and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging Tagging @voidika @icecutioner @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @imogenkol @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink and @thesingularityseries + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Three OCs for each one of these, all coming from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters, An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. You can find the Quiz Here. Continue below the cut:

For the "OCs as Deities" I included OCs from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles and An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts. Rule and stuff below:

bold = applies, italics = somewhat applies, strike = does not apply

ARCHIBALD THANATOS (THE UNTITLEDVERSE [THE OMNISCIENT RULE SAGA])

EROS: • scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub (less so than his brother, Osmund Thanatos) • has a tattoo they regret (and he was born with it) • sex & love therapist for their friends (less so than his niece, Willow Thanatos) • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie• milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous •

HECATE: • prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy (he's the current Head Patriarch in the House of Thanatos, he hates this shit) • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings •

PAN: • enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles (as one of the few Old God Houses left, by process of circumstantial elimination he is, but he doesn't necessarily enjoy being involved in the politics itself) • loves being around campfire • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry •

NEMESIS: • angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony (key to being an (Old) God of Death) • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words •

HYPNOS: • very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets • starry eyed • horrible money management • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions (appropriate for the current God of Death) • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes •

IRIS: • life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers •feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person •

PHILLIP (THE SILVER CHRONICLES AU [FAR CRY 5, FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

EROS: • scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie• milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous •

HECATE: • prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown (more than the Voice does at least) • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings •

PAN: • enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry •

NEMESIS: • angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t (he's a New God but yeah Phillip isn't as all-knowing and selfless as he should be) • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance (but ignores the fact he's ignorant himself) • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words •

HYPNOS: • very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets • starry eyed • horrible money management • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions (appropriate for a New God) • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes •

IRIS: • life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers •feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person (in the wrong way possible)•

DISCORD, THE MAD KIN OF CARNAGE (AN OLD BALLAD OF CHANCE AND EMBER HEARTS TRILOGY)

EROS: • scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie• milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous •

HECATE: • prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings •

PAN: • enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry •

NEMESIS: • angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words •

HYPNOS: • very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets • starry eyed • horrible money management • gives amazing hugs (these hugs kill) • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes •

IRIS: • life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers •feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura (quite the opposite actually) • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person •

For OCs as Flower Aesthetics I chose OCs from The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Rules and stuff below:

Rules: bold what applies to your oc. italics if somewhat applies.

MERCY OMAR-SEED (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY NEW DAWN] ❀ Daisy: Wears their heart on their sleeve. Soft voice. Minimalistic clothing. Laying in a field of tall grass. Walking barefoot. Puts other people’s happiness above their own.

✿ Bellflower: Very consistent friend. Happy face with sad eyes. Careful touches. Hiding a blush. Light giggles. Makes friends easily. Knows how to make you smile.

❀ Bleeding Heart: Hopeless romantic. Still laughs at dirty jokes (tries to hide it). Believes they can change the world. Caring looks. Dyed hair. Kisses on the cheek.

❀ Protea: Proud. Big gestures. African heritage. Blushes easily. Tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. Content where they are. Doesn’t love easily, but always deeply (nah loves easily and very deeply).

✿ Moonflower: Knowing smiles. Doesn’t open up easily (just like her mothers). Late night. Tired eyes. Soft skin. Not as innocent as they seem (having Azriel as an older sister doesn't really give a chance for this). Loose clothing.

✿ Sunflower: Big smiles. Always looking for the positive (desperately, especially for Silva). Lots of friends. Warm afternoons. Basking in the sun. Stares off into space a lot. Sitting in comfortable silence.

❀ Dandelion: Wishing for the impossible. Shooting stars. Light breezes through their hair. White clothing. Whispered secrets. Far off looks. Kind eyes.

RICO (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

❀ Daisy: Wears their heart on their sleeve. Soft voice. Minimalistic clothing. Laying in a field of tall grass. Walking barefoot.Puts other people’s happiness above their own.

✿ Bellflower: Very consistent friend (Johnny got lucky). Happy face with sad eyes. Careful touches. Hiding a blush. Light giggles. Makes friends easily. Knows how to make you smile.

❀ Bleeding Heart: Hopeless romantic. Still laughs at dirty jokes. Believes they can change the world. Caring looks. Dyed hair. Kisses on the cheek.

❀ Protea: Proud. Big gestures. African heritage. Blushes easily. Tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. Content where they are (who the fuck wants to be in Night City?). Doesn’t love easily, but always deeply (V and Sydney are his favorites and misses Johnny).

✿ Moonflower: Knowing smiles. Doesn’t open up easily. Late night. Tired eyes. Soft skin. Not as innocent as they seem. Loose clothing.

✿ Sunflower: Big smiles. Always looking for the positive. Lots of friends. Warm afternoons. Basking in the sun. Stares off into space a lot. Sitting in comfortable silence.

❀ Dandelion: Wishing for the impossible. Shooting stars. Light breezes through their hair. White clothing. Whispered secrets. Far off looks. Kind eyes.

FINIDY MONA (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT 2])

❀ Daisy: Wears their heart on their sleeve. Soft voice. Minimalistic clothing. Laying in a field of tall grass. Walking barefoot.Puts other people’s happiness above their own.

✿ Bellflower: Very consistent friend. Happy face with sad eyes. Careful touches. Hiding a blush. Light giggles. Makes friends easily. Knows how to make you smile.

❀ Bleeding Heart: Hopeless romantic. Still laughs at dirty jokes. Believes they can change the world. Caring looks. Dyed hair. Kisses on the cheek.

❀ Protea: Proud. Big gestures. African heritage. Blushes easily. Tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. Content where they are. Doesn’t love easily, but always deeply.

✿ Moonflower: Knowing smiles. Doesn’t open up easily. Late night. Tired eyes. Soft skin. Not as innocent as they seem. Loose clothing.

✿ Sunflower: Big smiles. Always looking for the positive. Lots of friends. Warm afternoons. Basking in the sun. Stares off into space a lot. Sitting in comfortable silence.

❀ Dandelion: Wishing for the impossible. Shooting stars. Light breezes through their hair. White clothing. Whispered secrets. Far off looks. Kind eyes.

Here are results for the "How does your OCs story end?" Quiz for OCs from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters. Results below:

JOAQUIN COBALT (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

In The Perfect Storm and The Omniscient Rule sagas, sure (and even then those aren't at the end of his story), but other than those Joaquin's story doesn't end with betrayal, rather on a lighter note.

SILVA OMAR (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY 5, FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

No. After everything Silva goes through, that'd be too cruel. I've got plenty of other characters for that. Closest thing this relates to Silva is "questions unanswered" and "desires unfulfilled"; Silva doesn't get satisfying answers after the Collapse and the tragedies she experienced prior, and she mourns the normalcy she only got to live for such a sparse time before tragedy, the Apostles, Eden's Gate, the Congregation and the Collapse denied her that chance. But she does get a rather good ending, a happiness she deserves.

HAOYU ANABUKI (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

Haoyu's fate in the last installment of Life, Despair & Monsters is left ambiguous and up for interpretation and never answered, just like everyone else who remained with them. However, Haoyu is not left alone in the dire situation they had no choice but to run in to, nor do they plead or cry, just accept whatever result comes next (though begrudgingly given Haoyu does just want to live).

[cleolinda]

Samsara (Guerlain, 1989 EdP & 2023 EdT)

A sandalwood overdose embellished by ylang-ylang and jasmine. Samsara is the first woody women's fragrance in perfumery. It is constructed over a beautifully crafted sandalwood, used for the first time in these quantities in perfumery. (Guerlain.com)

From Eau de Tati, the back story:

Jean-Paul Guerlain created Samsara in 1985 for Decia de Powell, the woman he loved and who wore the fragrance for four years before it was launched. Jean-Paul took the opportunity to create the perfume for her, as she could not find a perfume that appealed to her. She liked jasmine and sandalwood, in particular, and these were the raw materials on which Samsara was based.

It seems that Gérard Anthony co-created the fragrance, but Guerlain has always loved a good legend. Whether the Sanskrit word "saṃsāra" ("the concept of rebirth and 'cyclicality of all life, matter, existence'") suits the fragrance as a name is a lengthy discussion I'll leave to others.

On the face of it, Samsara is another Guerlain journey into orientalism (stop that!); it's a classic example of loud 1980s fragrance (outdated); it's a benchmark in the Western perfume industry's use of sandalwood (notable). I wanted to write up this one purely because I already had it on hand: when I say "1989," I mean, my mom gave me an eau de parfum sample in 1989. I would have been about ten years old, and I loved collecting little sample vials that gave me too many headaches to actually use—just to keep in my little treasure boxes full of costume jewelry and tumbled rocks and skeleton keys. Apparently I was a magpie, or maybe a dragon. There's only about five molecules left, but as it turns out, that is more than enough.

I also ordered a fresh decant of the current formulation from the Perfumed Court—all they had was the eau de toilette, not the EdP, so this is not a one-to-one comparison. Instead, we have, on one hand, the most aged a Samsara can get, saved since its debut year, and on the other, the lightest, freshest iteration possible. It's lovely, that new EdT. But it's not what I expected at all. A couple of years ago I managed to uncork the 1989 Samsara, and all I got was this incredible note of mingled sandalwood and jasmine—just the richest, smoothest, deepest thing you've ever smelled. But the new one, from my notes: "BUBBLEGUM??"

Powdery fresh floral, rose? Like a living flower that happens to be powdery, not a cosmetic. Very very fresh and outdoorsy, like a garden. The vague idea of sandalwood underneath. Something a bit sweeter coming out, maybe vanilla jasmine. Very light, very easy to wear. Airy, breezy. Sheer.

And then, ten minutes in, bubblegum came out. Motherfucking bubblegum. I had to look up what the old-fashioned Bazooka Joe-type flavor is, because it's not that—there's no tiny twang of clove or wintergreen hiding behind the fruits and vanilla. This is straight-up Juicy Fruit gum. Which involves banana, pineapple, and maybe peach, for a flavor "resembling jackfruit." Now, apparently jackfruit contains "banana oil," aka isoamyl acetate, so I went and googled it on a hunch: yes, it’s in ylang ylang too. Combine that with Samsara's actual peach note (although it smells fresher than the lactone in Mitsouko) and vanilla—

Basenotes.com: Green notes, peach, ylang ylang, bergamot, lemon, iris and orris, violet, jasmine, rose, narcissus, sandalwood, tonka, amber, musk, and vanilla.

—and you've got a powdery-nectar sandalwood bubblegum. It's so good. Two birthdays ago, I got myself a wide-ranging set of essential oils, just so I could see what things smell like individually; the night after I tried Samsara, I started messing around with them, and it's 10,000% the ylang that's bringing the strange fruity note. I rarely if ever see anyone mention the ylang-ylang in Samsara—they always talk about how strong the jasmine is, but I SWEAR TO YOU that this is what it does on me. In fact, twenty minutes in, Bubble Ylang was mostly what I was smelling.

At the same time, the fresh EdT was really, really powdery—you see iris there in not one but two levels of the note pyramid, and orris is just iris root. The classic Guerlains use the ionones of iris and violet a lot; they're in the house accord, the Guerlinade, which I may also try to get a sample of. But the powder is so much stronger in Samsara than I expected. I was promised a sandalwood overdose, and I'm sitting here with Juicy Fruit floating over a bed of irises—like the row of cool dark purple ones we had lining our driveway when I was a kid—at the half-hour mark. According to my notes, I didn't really get ~sandalwood until an hour-twenty, and even that was still blurring into the ylang-ylang. (Apparently these two notes are really compatible; it's the only thing same combination I liked in Chanel No. 5.) That said, it's lovely and sweet and easygoing if you APPLY SPARINGLY. Of the three Guerlains I've tried, this one was by far the easiest to wear.

Which is wild, because supposedly, Samsara is A Sandalwood Bomb, a true big-hair fume of the '80s that will choke you out of a room. And yet, I didn't even get the sandalwood clearly until more than an hour in. There's two reasons for this, I discovered:

One is that I microdose perfume. I always point this out because I want you to understand that if you apply more fragrance than I do, you are not going to get the tame results I do. If you spray Tyrannosaurus Rex all over yourself, there is nothing god or mortal can do for you. I used two swipes of the Samsara sample wand on my left wrist—and it did project a good bit, but it was comfortable. If I'd done the same on my right wrist to balance it out, I would have considered myself good to go for a perfume-appropriate occasion. Maybe if you didn't deploy FIVE SPRAYS you wouldn’t be choking on it, idk idk.

The other reason is that the current formulation of Samsara uses Australian sandalwood—whereas the original used a much richer Indian variety. I was surprised to discover that Samsara has always been formulated as a meeting of natural and synthetic sandalwoods, though. But the current version has a newer synthetic: Javanol. And the thing about Javanol is that some people can't smell it. And I may be one of them. Because there is no reason "an overdose of sandalwood" should smell this modest to me, in the same perfume that is shouting white floral, unless I physically cannot perceive its loudest component. But I'm smelling some sandalwood; that must be the natural oil.

For more on Javanol, I turn to a fragrance I haven't actually tried yet: Escentric Molecules' Molecule 04. Javanol is, in fact, that molecule. The product website explains, it's a synthetic that

retains the radiance and endurance of natural sandalwood, but is sheer and transparent like no sandalwood in nature. “What I love about Javanol is its almost psychedelic freshness,” says [creator] Geza Schoen. “It smells as if liquid metallic grapefruit peel were poured over a bed of velvety cream-coloured roses.” Javanol is like Iso E Super, the molecule in Escentric Molecules 01, in some ways. Like Iso E Super, it comes and goes. The person wearing it loses the ability to smell it after a short while, only to re-connect with it later.

Well, "it comes and goes" may be why I'm not smelling as much sandalwood in Samsara as advertised, I guess—maybe I’m not totally anosmic to Javanol? The company that makes it, Givaudan, says that the aromachemical has

a rich, natural, creamy sandalwood note like beta santanol combined with  some rosy nuances. It can also be used at very low dosage (below 0.1%)  to bring richness and creaminess to all types of accords. With its exceptional low threshold, Javanol™ is approximately 8 times more effective in wash tests than the most powerful sandalwood product. [...] In the quest for the perfect Indian Sandalwood, Javanol™ is probably the most versatile note with its power, radiance, woodiness and rosiness, blending perfectly with flowers.

Javanol blends so perfectly with ylang and jasmine, in fact, that I can hardly distinguish it through most of Samsara's lifespan on my skin (I appreciate a good olfactory chimera, so that's fine). I can also see why you'd reformulate Samsara, already famous for its Godzilla-sized projection, with the biggest, loudest synthetic sandalwood on the market. But the thing is, the Beast of Givaudan wasn't created until 1996. Javanol may be what Guerlain has paired with Australian sandalwood nowadays, but my original sample was made with [probably a mix of synthetics including] Givaudan's Sandalore and the good stuff—20% (!) Mysore sandalwood.

Mysore Sandalwood Oil is a trademarked perfume oil extracted from the Santalum album variety of sandalwood tree (also known as a "royal tree") in the Mysore district of Karnataka, India. The tree species is said to be one of the best varieties in the world. (Wikipedia, the most concise explainer)

It's also the most expensive. But while I'm sure reformulations are a cost-cutting measure, sandalwood sustainability has also become a huge issue; I'm happy with synthetics if it helps the cause. The Australian sandalwood used in the current Samsara seems to be a popular and less-threatened natural option; it's also in two other fragrances I'm trying at the moment, Le Labo's Santal 33 and Tom Ford's Santal Blush. But it's like the difference between tulle and velvet. You can still use it beautifully, but there is a smoothness and a weight that's missing. People say that Mysore sandalwood is "creamy," even sweet, and it is, but not in a dairy or dessert way; it's legitimately this kind of olfactory texture that's so good. By contrast, the scent of Australian sandalwood feels a little harsh in the top of my nose, full of wood grain and pencil shavings, but also lighter. And yet it blends just as well with the notes of the new Samsara, just in different ways.

As for the old—Mysore and Sandalore® were what greeted me when I uncapped my vintage, 34-year-old sample:

oh my god. ohhhhh my gooooood.

That big sweet fruity ylang-ylang immediately bounced right out—how had I only smelled jasmine in the vial before? I'll stop here and tell you a little bit about ylang-ylang, which is not the note I was expecting to go on about, but here we are:

When you hear about "white florals," they're generally talking about jasmine, gardenia, tuberose (you'll remember this one from HYPNOTIC POISON), lily, lily of the valley—and ylang ylang, even though the latter is a showy yellow flower. I truly don't know how to describe the White Floral if you're not familiar with it, especially since I've never perceived any funky "animalic" indole notes. It's just good to me, very rich, very perfumy, and apparently it does, in an aromatherapy context, have a slightly sedative effect; this may be why people talk about "narcotic" white florals. Ylang-ylang takes the woozy richness of jasmine and, uniquely, adds that fruity, slightly spicy, banana-esque note; I'd love to look for the differences between white florals as I try out more fragrances. With Samsara(s), the jasmine doesn't seem distinct to me, serving instead to support the ylang-ylang, and maybe this is why I only smelled jasmine in the vial: it's my skin chemistry, once again, that's playing favorites.

You know what else my skin apparently loves? Expensive vintage sandalwood. The original Samsara skipped straight to the 1:20 mark and—speaking of narcotics—hit me like a tranquilizer dart. I just curled up on my bed and held my wrist to my nose for about an hour. I was like a cat on the 'nip. My God. I had some hand-me-down incense sticks from the '70s when I was a teenager, and I have been chasing that sandalwood high for three decades. This is it. The blanket of iris, the bergamot blast other reviewers talk about (I only got it the third time I wore the EdT), the supporting cast of notes—barely there. Just the gold.

For about two hours, it was amazing. Then, gradually, Samsara grew more and more overpowering, like a rogue science project slowly ballooning out of control. I ended up wiping it off with a little jojoba oil—not washing it off (DON'T WASTE IT!!), but reducing the amount I had on. There's only about two drops, thick as maple syrup, left in that vial, and that's fine.

Meanwhile, every time I wear the current eau de toilette, it disappears after about three hours.

I wish I'd been able to get a current EdP sample to compare the two formulations directly. But you know what? I still enjoy the iris-forward, sandalwood-backward Samsara. It's easy to wear and it doesn't overstay its welcome, which is a good thing for someone with fragrance sensitivities (me). As much as I love the smooth golden Mysore aspect, I'd rather have the option to reapply than be trapped with the Sandalwood That Ate 1989.

Perfume discussion masterpost

[sunshinevanfleet]

butterfly - j. kiszka

pairing: jake x reader

a/n: i'm back with more jake angst. i swear to y'all angst is just my favorite genre to write with him idk why it just fits him so well!!!! i promise i love him i'm gonna write some fluff with him soon. lol. anyways, my requests are open if you feel so inclined. as always, let me know your thoughts. love ya<3

genre: angst

word count: 2k

warnings: sadness, allusions to sex, swearing

 A sharp gasp sounded from your lips as you saw the figure behind you in the mirror. Your hand still hung halfway in the air, the earring you were putting in forgotten as you eyed the man behind you. Slowly, you spun around on your stool to meet the eyes of your surprise guest. He stood there, smirking as if you had been expecting him to show up all night. As if you had been waiting there just for him, all prim and pampered in anticipation for his arrival. 

His soft gaze drank in your figure, your bare legs exposed up to the thigh underneath your silken robe. You crossed one leg over the other, trying to shield some of your exposed skin from his curious eyes; there was a whisper of mischief hidden behind those soft eyes– you would expect nothing less from him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, voice quiet. You resumed putting in your earring, the jewelry catching the light that spilled in from the hallway behind him. He tilted his head at you, as if you were asking a ridiculous question.

“Just missed you,” he answered simply. He shrugged.

You sighed heavily, your body relaxing as you turned back to your reflection in the vanity. You eyed yourself; you had carefully applied your makeup, smudging your eyeliner to make it just the right amount of messy. Your vintage earrings glinted in the light, complimenting the dainty necklace shining around your neck. Hanging on the door to your closet, your dress was just waiting for you to put it on before you left for the night.

“You always have wonderful timing, Jacob,” you said, voice hinting at sarcasm. “I didn’t know you still had a key.”

He smiled. You briefly met his gaze in the mirror behind you. He was so intense, just lurking there, watching you. Goosebumps trailed over your body, rising first on your legs and snaking up your back and neck. He always had this effect on you, turning you into a blubbering shy mess under his observant eyes.

“Me neither,” he agreed. “Found it in my old guitar case. It’s the little old skeleton key. Always thought it was endearing that you got the locks specially made, just because of that.”

You flushed beneath the layer of cosmetics on your skin. He was always saying little things that hit you right where it stung. It was the reason why you had to stop speaking to him completely after your break up. He knew you like the back of his hand; how could you resist someone that knew every little thing that was special in your life? Every little detail about you…

“Glad I know where the spare is,” you said, jokingly. It was the easiest way to deflect, to try and ignore the way his words made your heart pound. “I’ve been living with one house key for over a year now…”

His little smile quickly disappeared, and he shook his head. “Has it really been that long? Over a year?”

You nodded solemnly. Forcing your eyes away from Jake, you found it more difficult to look yourself in the eye. Here you were, sitting still with your broken heart while the one person that you knew could fix it was watching you like a hawk. But it was never that simple.

“It has.”

The two of you were quiet for a minute. His eyes followed you as you reached for the dress hanging on the doorway. Out of habit, you reached to untie your robe, then realized it was no longer appropriate to change in front of him. Your grasp faltered as you entered your bathroom, leaving the door cracked behind you. His presence was too distracting for you. Your fingers trembled as you pulled the zipper up as far as you could, then you stepped back out into the bedroom. He was now sitting on the bed, looking very out of place in what used to be your shared bedroom. After things ended, you gutted the place and redid everything. Only a few things of sentimental value remained. 

“C’mere,” he said softly, “I’ll zip you up.” He stood and approached you.

Turning around, you swept your hair off of your shoulders and exposed your back to him. You shivered as his warm hand grazed the skin of your lower back, fingers trailing alongside the zipper. You chewed on your bottom lip, squeezing your eyes shut as he zipped it with excruciating care. You wanted to thank him, but were afraid of what your voice would sound like if you spoke. 

The silence was beginning to kill you when he finally finished. You smoothed the front of your dress, and turned to face him.

“Jake– I… You shouldn’t be here.” 

“You’re going to see him.” His voice was suddenly darker. Jealous. There was a flicker of deep emotion behind his dark irises; he was hurt, and you hated yourself for it. A whole year came and went without him, and you were still tearing yourself apart over him. Over that look in his eyes. 

“I am,” you said thickly. “I can’t see you, Jake, please. You need to go.”

He visibly winced at your words. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest, ignored the urge to pull him into your arms and comfort him. It wasn’t right. 

“I know, doll,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I just– I wanted to give you something.”

He began to rummage around in his jacket pocket for a moment, digging past his jingling keys and change, before pulling something small out and holding it out to you in the palm of his hand. The tiny parcel was wrapped painstakingly in a layer of delicate brown paper, and a thick layer of bubble wrap. You carefully grasped it, trying not to graze his hand with your own. You wouldn’t be able to handle your skin touching his again. 

“What is it?”

He smiled sadly. “I’m not telling.”

You mirrored his expression. This all felt like a flashback to the past; he was a supreme gift-giver, always showering you with tiny trinkets and little things that reminded him of you. Every time he came home with a surprise, you always asked him what it was. He would never tell. You hated how easy it was to fall back into an old routine with him. How easy he made it to stay in love with him. 

With delicate movements, you unwrapped the little parcel. It was slightly smaller than the size of your palm as you opened it; tears filled your eyes as you finally saw the gift. In your hand sat a little butterfly figurine, carefully made of glass. Its crystalline wings cast tiny, glittering windows of colorful light onto the skin of your palm. It was exactly the kind of thing you adored; you had a shelf on the far wall full of little thoughtful gifts like this from Jake.

“Jake…” your voice quivered, and you shook your head as you tried not to cry.

“It reminded me of you,” he said softly. “Sometimes, I think everything reminds me of you.”

You were teetering on the verge of tears. The thought of looking up at him was unbearable. As if you weren’t already being torn apart, he continued speaking. 

“You’re still my little butterfly. Don’t you know that?” He reached out, one of his hands cupping your cheek sweetly. Instinctively, you nuzzled into his embrace, breathing in the scent of his skin. Your silent tears dampened your cheek and the callused skin of his hand.

It was wrong. Everything about this was so wrong. But it all felt so right.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered. He was torturing you. You tried so hard to forget him. You rid your house of every little reminder of him that you could bear to throw out. You deleted his phone number, you deleted every song he liked, you stopped talking to all of your mutual friends. You even started seeing someone else, but nothing worked. Nothing could get him out of your mind. He was cemented there, unwavering. Everyday was a chore; you spent so much time trying to forget Jake that he was all you ever thought about.

“I need you, Y/N.”

You laughed humorlessly, reaching up to grasp his wrist with your free hand. You finally peeled your eyes open, but you still couldn’t look at him. Instead, you stared at the fragile butterfly resting in your open hand. It felt like you were staring at yourself; a little glass creature just waiting to be shattered into a million pieces.

“I needed you, Jake. And I hate you for it,” your voice broke into a sob. “I hate you because I can’t stop loving you. You’re the only person who’s ever broken me open.”

He was crying, too. “I was so stupid, doll, so fucking stupid. Everything I did, it was selfish. I knew I was hurting you, and I did it anyway. I’m a fuck up, and I know that, but I can’t live this life without you. I promise you I can’t…”

You didn’t have the words to say you felt the same. A thousand emotions passed through your mind; your chest ached with all of the pressure of trying to find the right thing to say. Your daydreams for the past year were filled with fantasies of making up with him, taking him back despite all of your screwed up past. Now, he was standing in front of you groveling and you had no clue what to do. 

“I– I don’t know what to say,” you breathed. 

You forced yourself to look at him, and saw the pain in his eyes. Your stomach did a flip. You hated seeing him like this, hated seeing him hurting as much as you were. That horribly pained look in his warm brown eyes. 

“Don’t go to him. Stay here with me, please.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. What were you supposed to do? Tell him to get out and leave to go see your boyfriend, so you could spend every second of it wishing he were Jake? 

“What can I tell him, Jake? I have to go.”

“I don’t care what you tell him. Anything. Just don’t go. I can’t take it,” The hand cupping your cheek snaked around the back of your neck, and he pulled you gently into his embrace. You buried your face in the nook between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. You wanted him closer; you wanted to be so close to him that you were practically the same person. There was no way you could leave him after this. Fuck your boyfriend, fuck the dinner party, and fuck anyone who wasn’t Jake Kiszka. He was your person, the love of your life. 

You pulled away from him finally, staggering as you balanced once again on your own feet. The little butterfly shook in your hand as you stepped away from him, carrying it to the shelf filled with the rest of your trinkets. All of them were attached to the man standing behind you, begging for your forgiveness. It felt almost foolish now, that you ever thought you would be able to forget him. It was so obvious to you now that breaking up was the worst possible decision. 

You left your butterfly perched there, watching as you curled back into Jake’s arms. He undressed you, laid you down in your bed. He made love to you and wiped your tears after you were finished. He removed your makeup without you asking, and pulled his shirt over your head. 

The two of you sprawled over your bed. You rested your head against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat in your ear lulling you into relaxation. He admired you as if you hung the stars in the sky. 

“I love you, my butterfly,” he whispered above you. You shivered, his sweet voice caressing your soul in the darkness. How could you have ever wanted this to end? No other love could possibly compare to him; how he knew you, cared for you, adored you. You had always been his.