dans la boca des diamants @dcevant - Tumblr Blog

〝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜. 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 〞

indie, multimuse blog ; OCs only ; modern day setting ; personal touch present in characters' design ; mature themes present ( i.e. & esp., angst, violence, crime, substance abuse &&tc. ), minors dni ; sort of selective, not mutually exclusive

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behind the screen — d. ( she / they ); 30+

rules && muses to be found under the cut open starters : here

#updated : 050226 ;;

bodylcnguage

a little peek into haneul’s instagram — featuring jordan @dcevant 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

#jordan & haneul ;;#MY BABIES #MAH BAAAABIES

20oo

Perfect way to describe how i’m feeling recently

dcevant

@7mplications

#7mplications #niv & harper ;;#IDK IDK IT JUST MADE ME THINK OF THEM UGH

7mplications

hearing his words ring along their ears , rowan laughs - as if it's genuinely a funny thing that they're currently discussing : whatever morality is left inside of both of them , whatever makes them feel as if they're fucked up or genuine - it's really a debate to be had , though , rowan feels otherwise , like they're the genuine one in this manner because they are , there isn't a thought in their head that rings a red flag , not like his . " i think that you think being fucked up is another way of being genuine , but they are two different things , wouldn't you think ? " for example , rowan renders themselves on being honest - open about their needs , their wants - with the mere addition of hiding their personal life , well , if it counts as personal , but their divorce from him . for the time being , that is . sure , there were moments were rowan had fell to their own indecisiveness , their own mind telling them otherwise , that their fame wasn't something they deserved - most times , they'd argue that their own self loathing comments were right , because they didn't deserve it , it was formed from chance , from some sick bound of fate that had convinced them that they deserved this , the curse of telling stories that their mouth couldn't . & there might've been moments were rowan had wanted to destroy everything in their making , never wanting anyone to take another look at it again , nonetheless - here they were . upon their own destructive mind , rowan truly wanted to apply their own anger into their next project , simply & truly contemplating if anyone wanted to see their soul completely laid bare , in the sense of things . " well , " rowan breathes out , their morbid curiosity getting the best of them , needing to know his actual reasoning of being there , in that moment - with them . & it wasn't the fact that rowan was evil or meanspirited , they craved to know why he didn't say no to them . perhaps , he needed to fill a need as well , something deep & dark , something sinister that sat inside of him - that was the thing that rowan had hungered after . " curiosity , " as if they didn't explain to him that they're better than his girlfriend - a thing that still lingered on , however , finding its way to intrude on the current topic at hand . as their tongue clicks at the top of their mouth , rowan is present in the moment , nodding their head at his words , this plastered laugh leaving their lips , with an immediate , letting their attitude subside at their thought wanting to slip from their mind . " are you bored ? " at home , is what they wanted to add on , nonetheless , keeping a safe distance from any other debate that seems to come on between the two , rowan's eyes peering at him in slow beats , knowing that he'd still disagree on their comment - unsurprising , really . but it wasn't like they weren't going to stop telling him , as if it were a sticky note of reminder placed on the refrigerator of his brain . " so you are a visual learner , there's nothing wrong with that . " sort of a mental checkmate , although , a smirk forms on their features like they've won the whole thing , nonetheless , not true at all .

it's not like rowan had anything mean to say about his girlfriend or the mild belief of tarot cards , truth be told , they thought it was interesting , how one person can rely on the stars & some reading on paper to determine a future of another person . call them skeptical of it , whatever - although , there wasn't a disdain for the girl that he was in a relationship with . shoulders are shrugged , another contented moment on their end as they're keeping their sentiments about this newfound affair - whatever it was - to themselves , perhaps wanting to bury it straight in the back of their mind like it meant nothing to them , as if this was nothing to them . " i wouldn't know , i don't rely cards to tell me what's going to happen to my life in the next five years , " & that's because they have it all planned out like a complete psycho - again , their control issues that aren't under control , but should be . if there were anything remotely neurotic about rowan : it's the fact that they're fixated on control , needing to have something or someone to satisfy their need to keep everything lined up , like a scheduled timeframe of things , admittedly so . in their deepest reality , rowan wishes that they weren't like this , like their sense of being alive wasn't to allow their art to be exposed to the world like it is now , like their one person that used to be in their life is still there , waiting for them to come home after a day of wasted painting of unnecessary items . " don't tell me you're planning on giving me a lecture on what's appropriate & what's not appropriate to do , " snipes quick - back sitting in the confines of the chair , shifting once more to get some new comfort in their posture , but listening in on his words , with even more intrigue . " that's more intimate than doing it , in my opinion . words forming goosebumps along skin , whispers only you & i could hear like dirty secrets told to each other , swearing that not one soul could ever know what we're saying - it's romantic , gets me off more than doing it , in fact . " in a more candid manner , rowan knows that their sense of romance is poetry , something crafted by their hands that showed love & appreciation for their lover , something that caused their heart rate to spike up in one's presence - though , does jordan deserve it ? does he get to see the side that their ex husband once saw ? of course not , it's not like they're giving it out to the first person they see . rowan doesn't dare shrink , they're postured straight , like they're telling him mentally that they mean business , that they're serious about this exchange . " was that so hard to say ? why did we need to beat around the bush for that simple thing ? " to be fair , it did feel like they were dancing around the confirmation , the consent that rowan needed in order to kickstart this . . twisted version of whatever it was to feed their needs , their face deadpanned for a second - his question causing for them to falter some , then reverting to the topic . " who says i'm married ? just because i'm wearing a ring doesn't mean i'm married . it could mean that my significant other died or . . " split - another word that causes rowan to flinch at the disgusting mention of it , their shoulders immediately tensed up at the memory of their divorce . " for the record , i don't think too much . i like to let my prospects give me a verbal permission of sorts before we do anything , " sue them for wanting both parties to be comfortable with whatever happens , that's why they're so absolutely clear on asking , whether they have to ask multiple times . " i hardly believe that it'll take a couple of minutes for a session between you & i , " seeing as to how there's unbridled frustration that aches to be taken away - at least the innuendo is there for him to think over . perhaps , their own stomach twisted with guilt , shame - whatever else made them feel like they were harming their nonexistent marriage - nonetheless , shaking it off as if the idealized version of their ex husband wasn't there .

another sound leaves their lips , a sneer on their end , gathering the inner thoughts of his words that labeled them as bossy - they weren't . well , in a sickened sense , they weren't . " is that what you think i'm doing , bossing you around because i have nothing better to do ? " more of a rhetorical question , if anything : but it doesn't hurt for him to answer it as well . " let's call it what it is at this point , it's merely an appointment to get my rocks off , " neutral statement slipping from their lips , watching as he slips his phone out from his pocket , cracking a semi decent smile on their face . " it's , uh , northbury avenue . glass doors , minimal sign that says ' rowan ellis galleries , ' can't miss it . it's actually not too far from here , if we're being direct with one another . "

dcevant

"wrong," he said as he lifted his hand, a finger pointed in their direction, punctuating that monosyllabic response with some emphasis, as to give it more weight than tone alone could afford it. "what i meant is that, it takes a good amount of honesty for someone to admit they're fucked up. sure, you can be genuine and not be fucked up, but i don't think it's the case at this table." his head dipped to the side, ever so slightly, a triumphant smirk playing in the corner of his mouth. jordan didn't possess the lexical depth to render profoundly philosophical conversations into pompous terms, but that didn't mean he was utterly incapable of diving into such matters. not exactly the court's fool — but something along those lines, the seemingly inoffensive simpleton who observed more than he let transpire, who judged people and situations privately whilst keeping a safe, sanitary distance from everything that he deemed a threat to his bliss ( the kind of bliss that could only be found in ignorance, natural or forced ). and if it wasn't plenty obvious, to be fucked up was far from an insult in jordan's book : it was a fact, voiced as a simple observation, without carrying any sort of moral judgement. one was simply fucked up as another was a saint and someone else was evil. "bored . . ." jordan murmured, leaning back into his seat with his arms folded over his chest. his features betrayed the genuine effort of pondering the matter — in the subtle frown that creased his forehead, in the way his mouth quivered almost imperceptibly. the word alone functioned as a prompt, guiding his mind towards faces and settings : his manager, the counter behind which he stood while scanning entrance tickets, arabella sat at her working station, the gingham plaid thrown over the armchair in the corner of their living room ( their — for he was quick to lay claim on things that didn't actually belong to him ). he needn't them to be precise, the very concept of boredom already encompassed his home life, it was a nearly perfect synergy between the two. and cruel as it might have sounded, though one could argue they'd both crossed most limits of decency, jordan saw no point in pretending. so, his shoulders eventually lifted in a cheerless shrug. "very much so," he admitted with some dose of detachment, verging on resignation. "but you can't have it all, can you?" such was jordan's logic : he already had a loving girlfriend that provided a secure living for both of them. love, or excitement, were out of the equation.

a wolfish smile curled his lips, and although he wasn't going to voice the thought, jordan considered them superior to bells in that aspect. the bar was low, sure, as low as it could be when it came to believing that a piece of paper with obscure illustrations could hold any truth about one's future . . . but it was a point on which they seemed to agree, to unite over in judging the foolishness of such idea. a point that set them both apart from her. and as they revealed their views on intimacy, the poetry of whispered desires and the sheer passion talk alone could ignite in another's entrails, jordan found himself leaning in, elbow pressed into the table as he rested his chin in the hollow of his palm. instinct instructed him to shake his head at such sentimentalities, the primal side of him ( which dictated, most often than not, all intimate exploits ) felt like rebelling against the claim. but something softer, something that was, perhaps, to this day left untouched and unexplored within the recesses of his mind found the idea very much appealing. however, the mention of romanticism made his spirit recoil — it was too contradictory. it was utterly incompatible with whatever they were setting up for. "i bet it does. but i s'ppose that's the kinda stuff you'd do with, i dunno, your husband back in the day. or someone that you got feelings for," he offered, not shying away from mentioning the man who, to some capacity, seemed to be sitting with them at the table, wrapped delicately around rowan's finger. "that is, not me." jordan shifted in his seat, the earlier glint of dreaminess present in his eyes erased, as thought it had never been there to begin with. his pad drew a clean, sharp line across the wooden surface, a trail his gaze tracked with profound attention. "i'm an envelope, or whatever. you want me between your legs and nothing more. isn't that so?" his gaze lifted, with a certain brand of curiosity, eyebrows arched to allow for his eyes to round up in this nearly boyish manner — as though secretly wishing they'd take that remark back. as though hoping rowan would leave that door open for him, just in case. of course, they didn't owe each other a single thing, though jordan couldn't deny the approach was a bit too methodical for his taste. perhaps it came from the very boredom he'd spoken of : this twisted, wretched desire to jump head-first into potentially perilous affairs, to feel a bit of a thrill, a bit of excitement. just as rowan craved poetry, maybe he craved tragedy — to know that the other person could be the end of him. their question drew a dry chuckle from him, yet he couldn't deny there was an endearing quality to the way they twisted things. "'cause you need a crazy amount of reassurance, that's why we had to beat around the bush." jordan shook his head easily, a light exhale passing through his nostrils. he couldn't even begin to understand the necessity of such precautions, hindered by the narrow optics of someone whose name didn't carry any weight, nor invited consequences by mere affiliation. he understood consent in the basic terms in which most decent men understood it : a hard yes, given by someone sober enough to be in the capacity to figure out implications. naturally, he laughed, lightly so, branding their cautiousness as something edging on malady. the product of, indeed, too much time spent in the mind. "next time just draft a contract, an nda or something. makes things easier for both parties," he commented, a crooked smile curling his lips. "or." jordan began, pressing his finger into the table, "it could mean they called it quits and you can't really move on. still married in a sense. emotionally speaking. reason why, you want nothing much from me than sex." jordan spoke freely on the matter, unaware of rowan's lingering feelings, ignorant to whatever unpleasant feelings his words could potentially stir inside their chest. foolishly, without even realising so much, he was seeking some sort of validation as well — privately despising the idea of being a mere patch.

"i sure hope it won't," he admitted, shamelessly, his thoughts drifting wildly towards their studio, the paints, the thickness of the paste covering their fingers as they roamed his body, staining his skin. it was a pang that shook jordan to his very core, making it simmer with unspent fantasies that bells couldn't fulfill. quite ironic, actually, for someone that prided herself in her creativity. his hand reached for the glass anew, stale as it was, that beer was his only way to appease the dryness in his throat. after a long sip he set it down with a clank, the tip of his tongue collecting every bit of moisture still present on his lips. "nah, not 'cause you got nothing better to do." he leaned in, his arms conquering half of the space on the table, "it's 'cause that's how you are. and that's what you want from me. to be a good boy, to show up at your call . . . make up for the one that you couldn't control and ended up getting away." and truth be told, jordan didn't mind it one bit. quite the contrary, he found something sickeningly delicious in the notion of being ordered, tossed, pushed and pulled. all he needed, however, was to be allowed to keep some of his dignity in the process. to be shielded from knowing that he was seen as nothing more than a body. thus, when refused that, he reclined, retreating into the comfort of his seat, the sole place from which it felt like he could keep some sort of control. he was about to type down the address when their suggestion made his fingers freeze, eyes parting with the screen to meet rowan's features once more. "is it not?" he slipped the phone back in his jacket pocket, head slightly tilted with visible interest. "could i get a tour? or is it too much to ask?"

#7mplications #jordan : threads ;;#jordan & rowan ;;#HERE WE ARE BABY WE ARE SO BACK <333

graveofscars

#musings ;;

desiresher

⋆˚࿔ closed starter for @dcevant !

" is this the part where you kick me out of your life? "

dcevant

the sound of their chuckle carried through the silence a couple of beats after cameron's question, as though they were genuinely considering it— and niv had, though not for long. they drew slowly from their cigarette, making it seem like they were trying to turn the passage of time into a weapon. "we both know this wasn't going to last." niv finally spoke, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders with one hand, their gaze darting through the half-shut blinds at the street beyond. "this, whatever this is. was. whatever." they turned around, briefly taking in cameron's features as they tried to stomp and crush whatever feeling the sight of him ignited inside their chest. "i'm not good for you, and you're no good for me either. better call it quits before it gets crazy." they shrugged their shoulders, taking another inhale, the smoke curling from their lips in a thin wisp. "i don't wanna find myself dragged through any passive-aggressive heartbreak songs."

#desiresher #niv : threads ;;#niv & cameron ;;#okay okay we went with maneskin for this one HAH #also i think he'd call them nieve since intimate uvu #also feel free to use they/she interchangeably <33

maxxie-or-smth

i was crazy back then (8 minutes ago)

#zahra : mood ;;#matias : mood ;;#niv : mood ;;

desiresher

⋆˚࿔ closed starter for @dcevant !

" i just feel like i'm a fuckin' failure, so what does it matter anyways ? "

dcevant

"define 'fuckin' failure'." zahra mumbled as her thumbs tapped against the screen with dizzying speed, her own glass momentarily forgotten — though not for long. "listen to me, feelings are stupid and you shouldn't listen to them," she offered confidently while fumbling in her purse until the little zip-lock bag came into view, two heart-shaped pink pills glinting under the neon lights of the club. zahra gave her a suggestive look before scanning the space. she quickly decided that popping pills in plain sight at a brand launch event was perhaps not the wisest idea, so she slipped the bag back into her purse. "come on, we need to put a smile on that gorge face. imagine not looking super excited about this stupid perfume." her eyes rolled heavenward as zahra stood up, the champagne flute in one hand, the other wrapped around audra's wrist while she lead the way through the sea of tight-locked veneer smiles and meaningless conversation.

#diseresher #zahra : threads ;;#zahra & audra ;;#i chose a 2000s throwback playlist for this bc it's the vibe this gives #also hello bad influence???

annd i'm back ! will be in the drafts for the next few days until the mental fog disappears uvu

#ooc ;;

ooc update : hi loves <33 i'll be in madrid until beginning of march, which means >>> brief hiatus. either catch me on discord or see you in spring. besitos!! 🎀

#ooc ;;

brokensbcys

“Why are you listening to Stas of all people?” Noah questioned, his eyebrow lifting sharply as he turned to Lev with a look that mixed disbelief and a kind of tired superiority, like he couldn’t believe this conversation was even necessary. He let out a quiet scoff under his breath, shaking his head as he paced a slow half-circle, sneakers scraping lightly against the pavement. “Second rule,” he went on, lifting two fingers in the air as if reciting something sacred, “never listen to Stas, who is usually off his brain on something and never bothers to do a proper search of the area before running his mouth.” His tone carried an edge, but there was strategy behind it; Noah wasn’t reckless, not like Stas. When Lev asked what the two of them should do instead, Noah stilled, his expression sharpening as he tapped his chin gently, eyes drifting over the street, the dark windows, the quiet porches, calculating, assessing, mapping risks in real time. “We don’t hit something that’s locked down tight,” he said slowly, thinking aloud. “We find a place that isn’t as hard to break into. Somewhere owned by someone old and fragile, someone who won’t have cameras wired up everywhere or neighbours who stay up all night watching through their blinds.” He continued tapping his chin for another moment, then gave a small, decisive nod as a plan formed, confidence settling into his posture. Without another word, he jerked his head in the direction he intended to go, already starting forward with a quiet certainty. “Come on,” he said, glancing back just long enough to make sure Lev was following. “I know just the place.”

dcevant

"i got it!" he couldn't even argue, couldn't even find a single redeemable quality of that man to use as counterargument. lev pressed his lips into the filter, forcing a stupidly long drag that his throat couldn't contain. he exploded into a violent cough, burying his face into the back of his elbow as tears welled up in his eyes. when noah gave him a rundown of the rules, lev almost felt like striking him — to wipe some of that superiority off his face. but that would have been poorly directed frustration. lev knew it would only make things more complicated, and he wouldn't even feel satisfied about it. his target was stas. that was a punch worth the trouble. despite the irritation in his throat, the cigarette was his only way to dull the simmering anger, thus he took another inhale as he listened to noah's train of thought. through the thin wisp of smoke, his eyes scanned the area in search for the usual tell-tale signs, features contorting at the mention of 'someone old and fragile'. lev threw noah a repulsed glance, preferring however to spit the bile instead of speaking his mind. somewhat lagging, he eventually brought himself to his feet and took a couple of hasty steps to catch up with them. "what place?" lev asked, ridden with suspicions. "what place you know? noah!" another leap, until he finally fell into step with noah. "i'm not gonna hit some granny to save my skin!"

#brokensbcys #lev : threads ;;#lev & noah ;;

7mplications

@dcevant asked . . . “ if you don’t turn that alarm off i’m gonna throw it out the window. ”

thinking that she's protruding in their room , harper sucks in a breath as she stills herself at the doorway , a laugh simply leaving her lips as her fingers hover over the phone alarm , giving the other time to wake up , that is . " well , if you didn't sleep in so much . . " she lets out , a grin living on her face as she's delightfully - but not wanting to be - turning off the alarm that's on her phone screen , a level of somewhat concern laced onto her features as she slides the object back into her pocket , her body leaned against the door , eyeing the other in their bed . " you know , if you set your own alarm , i wouldn't have to wake up a few minutes early to have an alarm for you to wake up , " shoulders are shrugged , remaining casual , though , worrisome . " are you okay ? do i need to make you some tea or anything ? " brows are knit in , hands clasped together as she's studying the other's form , inhaling a quick breath . " i'm here if you need me , well , i'm working from home , so . . you can yell out for me in the living room , i'll come . "

dcevant

who was the tech idiot that came up with the idea of soothing morning tunes? there was no such thing — no birdsongs, chimes or springtides could make anyone rise and shine with a bright smile on their face. that was a stupid marketing trope and should stay one. or maybe niv was the problem. maybe their life was too disorderly to line up with the blondes in those vitamin supplements commercials. whatever. fact of the matter was that those bloody digital harmonies were grazing their brains. "point taken, now please just make it stop," they pleaded, voice muffled by the pillow they pressed against their face. the despair was there, vivid, as though their very life depended on quiet. niv operated on their own time zone ( and it was completely independent of physical locations ). some people suggested they might suffer from insomnia, others offered dsps. perhaps because those options sounded more glamorous than simply admitting they chose to live by an utterly chaotic rhythm. to their detriment, and ( they suspected ) that of harper — at least to a certain extent. "i do not believe in alarms," niv muttered as they tossed the pillow away from their face. "not on days off. they are an inherent tool of fucking capitalism. that's how you herd people to their posts." not that niv held the regular nine-to-five like most people did. they didn't know much about that way of life, not empirically that is. they shifted under the covers, feet kicking the cotton as they rolled onto their back — it felt better that way, kept the acid from surging up their throat. they actually took the time to ponder the offer, against the pounding in their temples — they were frowning from discomfort, not in contemplation. and since they craved nicotine ( it dulled the pain, or so they liked to believe ), tea was inevitably ruled out. "coffee, i need coffee," niv muttered, reluctantly parting with the pillows. "don't worry, i'm gonna do it myself." their feet searched blindly for the slippers. the left one seemed too stubborn to cooperate, so a couple of kicks were mandatory to make it bend to their will. draping a shawl over their shoulders, niv made their way to the door ( drowsed, really ), pressing a lazy, sleepy peck to harper's cheek. "you had yours already?"

#7mplications #niv : threads ;;#niv & harper ;;#you knew this was gonna happen yeah?#i hope you knew

kcabrooms

❝ don't make me read your mind ⎯⎯⎯ you should know me better than that. it's takes me too much time. ❞

based on 🎧 i should live in salt by the national. @dcevant

dcevant

"you wouldn't say," he commented, the humour as dry as it gets. it could've been simple. it was supposed to be simple, on paper. except, this was reality, not something written in ink, and there was no way to scrap words ( or entire phrases, at that ) and simply choose a different, more comfortable route, as if the initial impulse hadn't existed in the first place. he drew a sharp inhale and tapped the stick against the cymbal — a metronome of sorts : counting the passage of time so that seconds felt less like eons, and imposing some sort of rhythm in his thoughts. the pinging eventually stopped, when its pitch became a bit too much to bear. jordan tossed the stick up. it flipped once, without much energy, then landed back in his palm. "i don't necessarily mind the groupie label," he managed, eventually, the word slipping out in a bitter chuckle, his detachment obviously practiced. "but it kinda starts to make me feel a little . . . pathetic, if you see what i mean."

#salvationday #jordan : threads ;;#jordan & ransom ;;#shorter so that i dont scare u off LMAO #category is timid attempt at confronting the blissfully oblivious #and complications ---- i think along the lines of envy is king and commands my actions

7mplications

" of course you don't think that , considering that . . maybe you're fucked up . i'm just - what's the phrase ? being genuine about who i am , " their comment may have been a bit debatable , considering most ideals that seeped into their mind , however , for the time being , rowan doesn't believe that they've completely strayed away from their actual thoughts , the ones that have lived twice over in their head because they allowed it to live there like it needed safekeeping , that is . it's interesting yet entertaining to see jordan in residence , seeing how they don't have anything particularly in common , well , maybe except for some thoughts - wonderment that keeps both of their brains working overtime to condone their upcoming behavior , truthfully speaking . & yes , perhaps deep down , rowan does feel bad about the fact that he's potentially cheating on his girlfriend with them , but if anything , rowan will take pleasure where they can get it from , metaphorically speaking - maybe literally speaking as well , nonetheless , they'll cross that bridge when they get to it , eventually . or maybe it was greedy of rowan to even conjure up an idea like this because ideas like this come from people who are deprived of things in their life , as if it was unfulfilled & they were seeking for gratification from it . " our frustrations , " rowan lets out , some sort of repeated sentiment like he didn't quite understand what they were saying : maybe it was their own frustration that really led them to this moment , some conversation about sleeping with someone that's taken , a hand tucked & settled under their chin in some sort of contemplation , like they were saying more , although , nothing was coming out . " just out of my own curiosity , if you aren't sexually frustrated , then why did you come ? if you knew we were going to have a discussion about it & seeing how you're . . . not deprived , " eyes flickering up & down the other's figure like they were both playing chess - checkers , if anyone wanted to be more technical in a sense , but rowan was attempting at getting a checkmate , delightfully so . & it wasn't for nothing , but their morbid interest in what actually called him into this full clarification of things . inhaling what seems to be another breath , refusing to lose to him , however , allowing their lips to traverse into another sentimental smile , like they've been at this for a while - perhaps they have , but it's enlightening , really . with honesty that lives in their head , reigning for themselves to be that way , they really couldn't , nonetheless : keeping a short sense of joviality , rowan's keeping themselves at bay with this entire thing , in the mere event that he refuses their offer - was it an offer ? or was it something teetering on their own unsettling need to feel something that wasn't . . . emptiness , a very stale emptiness that lived inside of them for so long that they tried everything to keep it buried . " hm ? " feigned interest as they're watching him reach for the glass , gazing at his throat bobbing with every swallow , head cocked to the side , wanting to hear him out . " genuinely , what part of me cares ? be honest , do you think that there's an emotion inside of me that'll keel over & die because of you ? " there's some avoidance in their words , not wanting to cater to the other's sentiments - whatever observation that's casted his way that screams that they care about what people think about them . " i don't need validation from someone like you , i get plenty of it from people that know my name & what i do , trust me , i don't need it from someone that needs to think twice over about his decisions in life . " more so this conversation , this slow debate of things that's managing to get rowan's heart pumping , like there would be some heat added to the ends of each other's words as if they hated one another . " are you a visual learner , is that what this is ? "

rowan's eyes roll at his comment sounding more like a question , but their head is lifted some - shaking their head , giving it some more thought , in actuality . " oh , i called . " sarcasm seems to drip from their tone of voice , letting their back hit the chair that's supposed to be comforting , giving them a short moment to shift their body , ears piqued as he mentions tarot cards . " are those not your thing ? you must not be too keen on wanting to know your future , " there's this faux moment where it seems like rowan cares , but they don't . not one ounce of their body actually cares , not even their heart that's currently beating . in the sense of their former marriage , the one that haunts their life - not in a bad way , just in the way that they find themselves thinking about their ex husband , curious to know how he's doing , wanting to reach out & say something that didn't entirely lace themselves in regret , heartbreak , admittedly so . although it's not some taboo subject , rowan treats their divorce as one , considering that it was something that held over their head once it happened , but it was something that willed them into strength & the person that they are , incredibly talented - open to convincing someone such as jordan to cheat on his girlfriend with them , another taboo thing that not even they would open up had they still been married , but here they are : open to the idea of it . " maybe me wanting to talk about it seemed more appropriate than doing it , " admitting , slightly that there was a conscience that lived in their head once their mouth opened up , letting their brain speak out their real thoughts . for a second , rowan's tense , then they're untensed , their chest heaves for a moment , fingertips dancing along their chin as they're staring him down - not with intention , that was . currently in the significance that was the other's residence in their own , rowan's taking as much time as they need to settle in this situation as if it wasn't spelled out of their mouth , like it was a regular thing people talked about . his finger lifted , nearly a touch to the tip of their nose , blinking - allowing their lashes to brush against their face , huffing out some bittersweet chuckle . " you're saying it as if you want me to pull you out of that chair right now , " intrusive thought aside , but the concept is there , the want to do it is right there , rowan has free will to do it , yet , they're silently looking to him for permission , like he wasn't vocal enough for them . if anything , rowan was letting their unguarded lust do the talking for them , hardly even caring if people reveled in their conversation , for all those people know - it could be a hypothetical sense , but it wasn't a hypothetical sense , rowan wanted to act upon it , deliciously so . maybe the thought of being filled by someone taken was the rush they needed to get their head back into some artistic flow , maybe it was the fact that they needed to do this because their brain was about to shutdown into weariness & they didn't want that , barely . listening to his words as they were fussing with their wedding band , a weakened nod of their head , wanting to fully hear him out in this rendered sense of things . " whatever i say , " repeated with ennui , rowan lets out this small puff of air , then focuses back onto the other , his eyes gleaming with newfound interest . " no napkin , " plainly spoken with a small sense of agreement , wondering what he'd have under his sleeve with the request made & traded both ways . " you know me , jordan . i aim on pleasing the girlfriend of the man that i want to sleep with , whatever she wants , i'll happily tow her way . " of course , playing right into his demands - if it were called that - rowan settles on this seeped grin plastered on their features , simulating an act right in front of the other . " let her show me her stuff ? sure , i'll bite . if it's good enough , maybe i'll give her an exhibit of her own . "

which happens to be rowan's people pleaser side , another thing that hasn't been properly exposed because of their own . . . counter emotions blocking it out from even appearing . " again , you think that i care about your schedule , i don't . like i've expressed , i do have a life of my own , something that - maybe you can't grasp because you're too busy thinking about yourself . " rowan's chilled out , keeping their composed side to them , neutrality at best . " i'm sure i can prioritize my own time , but hey , my studio's always open to . . . whenever you'd like to swing by . "

dcevant

"and being fucked up rules out the possibility of also being honest . . . genuine, whatever? isn't it very much genuine of me to admit that i'm fucked up?" jordan asked, rhetorically, experiencing that moment as a veritable uno reverse. to him, it made perfect sense, and if anyone at that table was lacking authenticity . . . that someone certainly wasn't him. though, he didn't think of rowan as someone deeply dishonest. no. from his perspective, rowan fell prey to their own mind, to the very complexity they had described themselves by. that was artists' biggest flaw, in his opinion. his usage of the term 'seriousness' was nothing more than a clumsy way to address the fact of living in the mind, far more present in thoughts than in concrete. he'd seen it over and over with arabella, with her best friend — those nauseating, endless conversations carried at the kitchen table, over a bottle of red and hand-rolled cigarettes. problems and pains exchanged that sounded totally absurd, alien to facts. at least, to him. rowan was, by all appearances, woven from that kind of silk. and jordan found it tragic, in a sense. as much as his soul could grasp the concept of tragedy. truly, he needn't all the talk, needn't all the hypotheticals that weren't quite hypotheticals, needn't them to take so many mental detours to normalise something that, in his world, was already normal. jordan assumed they did it for themselves, a selfish endeavour that he couldn't even judge them for. in such situations, selfishness took the form of virtue. when rowan stressed the fact that they shared in that particular kind of frustration, he couldn't help but chuckle in return, eyes widening with interest as he took in the pensive posture. not only interest, but also something akin to tenderness. he'd experienced that feeling before — a sense of awe at another's depth, a nearly child-like desire to discover and explore a universe unknown to himself. the questioning made jordan scoff, air passing past his nostrils with a certain dose of amusement. the dry kind. it wasn't the curiosity, rather the superior edge in the way they scrutinised him. "well," he began, with instinctual self-certainty, only to find himself at a loss. silence befell them as jordan skimmed through his mind for a response — because rowan wasn't one of the bruvs, and they couldn't be satisfied with being told he just wanted to fuck. for a brief while, the thought invaded his mind, attempted to pollute it. but it was so foreign, he couldn't accept it without significant discomfort. his mouth twitched, words however remained unspoken. "curiosity," he finally offered, "don't get me wrong, i love her. but i don't let this sorta stuff slide." shoulders lifted in a light shrug, an attempt to give some weight to his claims ( jordan realised how weak they sounded ). it wasn't entirely dishonest. it was, really, the extent of self-reflection he could produce on the spot, more so on a matter he'd never pondered before. his logic was simple : if the interest was mutual, it happened. considerate, still, jordan let them have that moment of self-affirmation, lips sealed apart from the defiant smirk. though, perhaps words weren't even necessary to convey the message : he disagreed. "if it's enough, from people that know you and et cetera . . . obviously, people more important than me . . . then why do you fight me over it? just a nobody who only says he's gotta see it first before taking you at your word."

the talk about tarot cards and his future stole a genuine laugh from his chest, hand pressing into the armrest as he adjusted his position. he couldn't quite tell whether tarot was their thing, or they only latched onto it to weaponise the matter against arabella. to extract from him some critiques on his girlfriend. "how could those cards say a thing about my future?" he asked, words laced with laughter. jordan wasn't that impressionable, concepts such as clairvoyance, energies and whatnot had no place in his universe. if he were to judge the matter, accept it as a viable fact and voice an opinion, then he would either have to say that bells possessed no ability to read those cards, or that those cards deceived her deliberately. otherwise, how could she not know what was happening right under her nose? as for his own future, it was whatever he made of it. and for now, it seemed rather clear and settled : he'd most likely end up marrying that girl, have a little family and continue with his affairs while she slept soundly in their bed. "appropriate?" he asked, bringing a hand to his face, fingers grazing against his cheek. "so you wanna go about it only by discussing? talk about what we could do, what we would do to each other, but not actually doing the deed?" he meant to provoke them, to criticise their approach — with a tinge of mockery, just a little. he knew it was inappropriate, whatever he was doing, whether it was rowan or some other body. but somehow, from his perspective, it seemed far less appropriate to philosophise around the matter than carry it out. perhaps because acting, without thinking, offered his consciousness ease. allowed him to frame the matter as something insubstantial, without any effect on his life. it didn't force him to look at the ugliness of his actions, nor to think too hard about the hurt he was causing. for, in that sense, both talk and action were just as inappropriate for a man in his situation — talk, at that level, already implied entertaining an idea he, in theory, had no business showing any interest in. "again, you need confirmations. spoken confirmations. yes, rowan. that would be the idea. you have full consent to pull me out of this chair now and whenever," he leaned forward once more, as though trying to preserve the most outrageous notes of their conversation for their ears alone. "is this what marriage does to people? it leaves you thinking you can't touch other people? or is it just you? let me make it clear : from the moment i stepped in here, i was up for grabs. bells or no bells. and you know what happens when you think too much and act too little?" his gaze darted to the side, meeting the figure of the waiter bouncing from table to table. "he could just look at me the right way, and i'd excuse myself, spend a couple minutes in the bathroom or whatever, and come back here as if nothing. to discuss." it was, really, as simple as that. a proper hypothetical, and if it were to happen, jordan would've thought nothing of it after. he didn't dwell upon these escapades, didn't bring the ghost of them back home. the spark in his eyes only grew more intense. the prospect of getting bells to interact with rowan only took the unhinged up a notch, in a twisted kind of way that ignited something properly sick in his gut. perhaps foolishly, jordan was growing greedy — the mere fact that he'd been introduced to rowan by arabella was no longer enough to satisfy him. he wanted to corner her in a properly humiliating spot. to subject her to a particular flavour of disappointment : in both himself and her role model.

he simply brushed off the commentary, with a dismissive motion of his hand — properly defiant, properly provoking. "yeah, sure you do. i was only giving you a heads-up, since you wanna . . . boss me around? let's put it this way, i'm managing your expectations. 'cause you seem to think i'd drop everything at your call." with that, as if the thought was a prompt by association, jordan fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulling his phone out. "what's the address? of your studio. so i can bring her over."

#7mplications #jordan : threads ;;#jordan & rowan ;;#WHO KNEW tumblr had a text block character limit LMAOO

begsfora

7mplications

@dcevant .

#7mplications #THIS. THIS SUMS IT UP PERFECTLY #jordan & rowan ;;

7mplications

the thing is , rowan wasn't going to consider what he was doing - considerate - nor were they going to agree on that sentiment itself because to them , it simply wasn't true . it may have been selfish for the most part , but to call it considerate , now that much was laughable . but yes , being called fucked up , in the events that they're solely leaning on their own sense of egotistical need to fulfill something that they know can't be fulfilled by their own projects , no matter what the subject would be , at least rowan had something physical in their life , right ? " i feel like being called fucked up is a stretch , wouldn't you think so ? " inquiry is right there , faced between the two of them as if it were some sort of mirror that countered their actions towards one another . " you're saying it like it's a sin , jordan . just call it what is , a physical need - a connection to get out our frustrations , " spoken with clear nonchalance , keeping their own sense of self managed in their internal monologue . " it's really not a bad thing to want something like this , " at least to them , it wasn't - seeing how they were the one that was trying to convince the other to be part of whatever it was , betraying one's significant other to be with them . most times , rowan wouldn't even consider the thought of infidelity , though , for this specific moment - it made sense for them to do it . not because they hated jordan's girlfriend , not that they felt any sort of way towards her , but because they needed a rendered sense of control in their life that made sense , something that wouldn't bore them into nothingness , something that could make their next art installation worth it - to prove to people that they weren't some one shot artist , at least . " at painting , ceramics , sketching . . " their voice was simple , although , head twitches to the side for a second , then their eyes are back onto the other , some sort of laughter - bitter - coming from their mouth , knowing that there'd be some doubt in his voice . " you know , thinking that you call the shots in this situation , it's cute , but it's definitely not in your part to tend to , however , if you don't believe me , you can always . . i don't know , leave . " rowan's tone of voice had a second of seriousness , as if to tell him that they had the power in this , their own moment confined with the other that no one else could ever have - it was somewhat pleasurable for them to throw their own control his way , without even parlaying it , in a strange sense . " i'm well sure of it , jordan . " words confirming whatever thought he had in his mind , whatever uncertainty that was there , they'd be sure enough to change his mind of it . " it's not that i can do better , it's that i am better . but then again , you don't have to believe whatever i say . " inhaling a breath , rowan keeps their stone cold gaze onto the other like they were trying to intimidate him , wondering if he'd even sink into that , though , he looked stronger than he seemed , surely , he'd say something else in argument of their words . " i'm sure if you aren't that interested , i could always find someone that doesn't need to reconsider someone else's feelings in return for their own . "

rowan remains tightlipped , their finger still splaying on their wedding band as if they were looking to advice for it , like it was sentient , had its own mind to tell them something - give them whatever they wanted to hear , things like that . nonetheless , in this moment of silent clarification , rowan's allowing themselves to feel another emotion rather than disloyalty to their ex husband , not that they really had any , but still . it rendered there as if there was this utter possibility that they were still married , like he was still in the picture for them to lean on . brows arched once more as he breathes , there's this slight interest piqued on their features , like rowan cared what he had to say . " & if we take everything too seriously , then why are you here , having this conversation with me ? " they're asking , facial features calmed - eyes blinking here & there as if to stave off some sort of compulsion . & to say the very least , rowan isn't phased if he says no , seeing how they're more composed & lenient to the thought of it , but they're looking him over , from his eyes to his lips , then back over to his eyes , as if they weren't idealizing what it feels like to be under him . " it's not that bad of a place , there's some . . well , the bathroom that's . . no one can hear us , hypothetically speaking . " once over , their shoulders shrugged again , another level of nonchalance playing at their features , only offering the other minimal chuckles here & there . " & what would rather i have done , hm ? schedule some playdate with you as if we were in high school again ? take you to my art studio , show you around before proposing such a heinous idea ? " not that it was that ridiculous - perhaps to him , it was , but to rowan , it was more of a realistic idealization that they wanted to experience , if that part made any sense . considering their short moments of depraved thoughts that settled into their head , they figured that there shouldn't be that much thought into this , though , there was . & it's not that they would really care about the fact that they're the other person in his life , they have many other things to worry about , sleeping with him is a way of getting their needs out , settled away from their mind so they can focus on the billion other things that concaved in their head . deep down , rowan knows that their ex husband would roll his eyes at them for even doing this , for even thinking about the idea of ruining a good relationship - again , that's what it seems like to them , they don't know what it looks like on the other side of jordan's life away from this entire situation . " that's exactly what you are , " a sharpened answer coming out from their mouth as they're giving the other this small grin , wondering if there was any way for them to even win this conversation , however , it doesn't seem so , with the way they're still having this debate & in public , as well . but there wasn't any shame that lived in rowan's mind , in fact , they were shame free , which was why they were so open to having this very discussion . " then what are you , hm ? if not some envelope for me to lick & toss away until the very moment i need you again , " another lean forward , this time with their arms crossed against their chest , a deadpanned gaze that filled nothing but attentiveness . " you're not a porno spread to me . like i said , you're an envelope that i'm willing to store away & pretend that you don't exist , " breathing once more , testing out the frustration that comes from his end , eyes mere squinting as they're contemplating on asking him what renders inside of that brain of his , however , rowan stills quiet , continues to fiddle with their wedding band in silence . " sure , why not ? want it on some napkin or something ? or would she rather have a spread of one of my paintings , hm ? well , you're acting like i care about being the other significant person in your life , i really don't . seeing how i have my own life to manage , this thing - between us - is merely physical . "

dcevant

"not exactly. no," jordan commented, shaking his head with the kind of nonchalance that was almost disarming. if rowan possessed enough mental clarity to recognise their complexity, jordan likewise manifested the ability to sift through the tangled recesses of his soul and acknowledge that he was, at heart, fucked up. had he not been aware of it, perhaps his relationship wouldn't have worn the stain of countless infidelities. and perhaps, arabella would have known of his ... acquaintance with rowan. and certainly, jordan would have long fled that table — from the very moment they'd suggested they could be better than her. but to sit at the loom and weave such intricate threads of lies without ever arising suspicions, one had to acknowledge they were actively and deliberately hurting someone. from there, the conclusion flowed naturally : only someone fucked-up at the core could choose to behave so. only someone whose greed knew no limits and who sought, who craved a particular kind of thrill that only another's fragrance lingering on their skin as they returned home could provide. that was properly fucked up. to veil it all under the guise of consideration, without even flinching, was properly fucked up. similarly, from jordan's point of view, demanding that one not only cheats, but quits their significant other, was just another dimension of fucked-up. but fucked up nonetheless. "our frustrations?" jordan cackled, shaking his head, "sure it's not a bad thing. not a sin, by any means. but babes. you got it all wrong. i'm not frustrated. not in that way." unless frustration was born from opportunism and morbid curiosity. perhaps they implied it, inherently. and perhaps they were right, in a sense, but the mental effort required to see things in that logic was too taxing for someone like jordan. truth was, he wouldn't have chosen bells hadn't she come with so many perks. maybe that was an iteration of frustration — how he went behind her back as if to deny her the very thing she wanted most, the thing that money couldn't really buy : his undivided, absolute attention and affection. he listened to them, partly, his mind too excitable, working relentlessly at quietly absorbing each point and counter it. in a twisted, self-important way, it amused him — the emotion spilling over his features, seeping into his curled mouth, in the way he looked at them with a touch of arrogance ( the kind that parents usually made use of against their offspring, the kind that warned the other against their provocations ). "you know," he cleared his throat, lazily reaching for the glass, his throat bobbing with the forced swallow. "i can't figure out if you're saying all that 'cause you really don't give a damn," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "or 'cause you need validation. to hear me say that i'm interested and i'll stay. as for you being better, rowan..." jordan shifted in his seat and pushed the glass just out of reach. "since we agree i'm not s'pposed to give a damn about you as a person and keep it physical, that's still my call. 'cause you can be better than her in bed, or not."

"'cause you called?" jordan responded whilst their question still lingered in the air. a question very much rhetorical, as if the reason was so painfully obvious it didn't need be voiced. "and i was curious. here, i'm giving you this : the thought of spending the evening with you sounded more fun than bells pulling the tarot cards on me." he shrugged, a bit resigned, a bit self-conscious. among his crowd ( the crowd that bells didn't frequent ) the reasons their relationship even existed were no secret. and her little eccentricities were seen as the natural price he had to pay for everything else she provided. jordan catalogued the stammering and promptly indexed it with the other observations that led him to believe rowan didn't know that many people outside of their ex-husband. it was their response, the apparent superiority of it, that 'gotcha' note that drew a hollow chuckle from him. to jordan, there was something bitterly laughable about branding that as a 'high school playdate' when what he'd been offered instead was a sit in the counselor's office, to discuss his bad behaviour and ways to course-correct to make sure his report wouldn't look too bad. "honest?" it wasn't like he was going to give anything other than his honest opinion on the matter, but he had his theatrics too. "that would've been better than talking so much about it. it's not even the kinda thing you really talk about. with words." he added, and in his world, it really wasn't. in his world, action preceded speech. speech was an accessory to mitigate consequences, not to devise plans and efficient ways to go about something. first, you went to bed with someone, inebriated by alcohol and their charms ( not even considering they might get the wrong idea ). and if they happened to expect more of you, then you sat them down, explained how it meant nothing, and moved on. "also," he lifted a finger, mere inches away from the tip of their nose, "next time don't explain how the bathroom could work. show it. i don't need that much talk to be convinced." nor was he really bothered by the prospect of being heard. logistics, in general, were something jordan didn't ponder. selfish still, perhaps the kind of selfishness few could afford, he remained untouched by the idea of being suspected of having intercourse. everyone did. he could, easily, undress a couple of bodies sitting at the neighbouring tables and picture them flushed against each other in his mind. jordan retained that boyish lack of shame in his preoccupations around sex. his tongue peeked from between his lips, gliding over them before slipping behind the thin line of his mouth. he sized them up, took in their posture, the crossed arms, the way they leaned forward to drive their point across. and in that moment, the fire within him was extinguished. that was the kind of bickering he only afforded people who put a roof above his head ( aka bells ). he had his personal lecture on the situation, and rowan didn't seem like the kind who could be easily coaxed into seeing contradictions that didn't favour them. so many questions, all already answered, flashed through his mind. but he pushed them aside. "alright. whatever you say," he muttered dismissively, disbelief plastered all over his features. then, just when he was settling into this sort of detached renunciation, his eyes twitched with newfound interest. "a napkin? no, babes. absolutely not." there was this devilish spark in his eyes, it seeped into his smile. "seeing how you want hooker-grade services, i actually expect you to be properly generous with her." jordan leaned back, raking his mind for whatever outrageous fantasy bells nourished regarding them. "dunno, invite her to your studio. show her around. let her show you her stuff." he shrugged, as if it was nothing. "and since we're doing ts & cs, here're mine : bells comes first, and i work a full-time job. friday nights i'm out, no negotiations. manage your life and your needs accordingly."

#7mplications #jordan : threads ;;#jordan & rowan ;;

ad0rati0ns

with ines in view sidney felt like she was ready to cry all over again. she sniffs, feeling her bottle lip wobble despite her protests. "i am trying," sidney responds weakly. she turns towards the other as they take a seat besides her. "i dunno," she mutters. of course she knew. sidney's lips twitch slightly. she knew the words sounded weird as soon as they came out of her mouth. "i just...feel like a complete failure."

dcevant

"you?! a 'complete failure'?" ines couldn't help how incredulous that sounded. from her perspective, nobody could put the words 'complete failure' and sidney's name in the same sentence, unless there was a 'not' in there somewhere. "that's absurd!" she insisted, stashing the lighter in her jacket pocket as she turned to the side, one leg sliding between them on the bench. "whatever this is about, i'm certain it's not worth the weed." her gaze fell on the roll before lifting to meet sidney's again — ines was well accustomed to that kind of stuff, but she knew sidney wasn't. plus, she had her principles : first time, never alone. we try for the right reasons. &c. "gimme that," she said as she reached out, tucking the joint behind her ear. ines took sidney's hand in both hers and brought it to her lap. "why're you saying that? first of all, it's factually wrong. and i swear to god, sid, if it's someone—" the threat was humorous, another attempt to put a smile, however weak, on their features. "i'll make them regret it."

#ad0rati0ns #ines : threads ;;#ines & sidney ;;#im here for besties i need besties #i can totally see ines cheering and rooting for them

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