everything changes

Sid James Drug Taker / Art Maker 27 / North Side

[sidjcmes1-blog]

[sidjcmes1-blog]

stellarosenthal‌:

Stella longed to enrapture so thoroughly that keeping others in her company was their own idea. She was a different creature when not operating under the heaviness of emotion, yet so much of it was intrinsic to her very being. She was always ready to help someone shed their burden, even if she was becoming smothered by her own. Thrill and tantalization swallowed her completely when she threw herself into Sid’s presence. The increasing commonality had been from an attempt to distract herself, but for once it was Stella taking something from another. She offered parts of herself to so many, be it knowledge or a vessel for emotional displacement. She rarely engaged in selfish behavior pertaining to another soul. She would reclaim her time and energy with popping away for the weekend, but she did not slither into the same unfamiliar (though that was becoming less and less applicable) bed so often. Sid was certainly the most appealing of her vices; in more ways than one. 

“A mermaid found a swimming lad, picked him up for her own,” Stella started to quote, shooting a wink. “Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down,” she continued and let her fingers lace with the artist’s. Forgot in cruel happiness that even lovers drown. Stella was sure she could drown in those eyes as gazes met. She would not concede defeat in this game of theirs. It would be all too easy for her to slip into becoming a besotted mess. The lines had been drawn, and her own stubbornness swelled. She volleyed lines and bad jokes constantly, but poetry was kept to rarer circumstances. She toed the line of pretentiousness at times, but her authenticity overrode it. “That’s a yes.” A halo of blonde girls moved with a small shake of her head. There was truth in beauty, and there was no denying a mutual lust between the two. Anything else was debatable and not something she wanted to offer much thought to. She liked their game and that was enough for now. Adoration was far too dangerous. 

Stella let her fingers untangle as her gaze fell to the decided spot. High on the ribs, just beneath soft curves of flesh. She was excited about inviting someone into her own studio, and to have someone interested in the fine details of the rescue. She held that very notion currently in Sid’s space. “I guess I’ll just need you to kiss me to make it feel better,” she countered. “Favorite? All of them isn’t what you’re looking for, is it?” The curator thought for a moment. “Lavender and peonies.” One was calming, and Stella, too, liked being located in the French countryside. The other was so large and proud in its bloom. Much favored and so aggressive in its feminity and softness. She gave a soft roll of the eyes as she aimed to elicit one of her own, “are you ready to sting me, babe?” 

There was a moment, the briefest little respite of softness that had made its way to Sid’s cutting features. Somewhere between Stella’s little wink and her soft hand slipping into the artist’s overworked one. It was so comfortable, the ease at which her tongue let drop poetic words left Sid pondering its other skills. Lost again. Stella’s mind did intrigue her, with brains and beauty what was she left to want for? Perhaps the ditty was an indicator that she wished to drown the lost and lonesome. If that were the case then Sid would keep herself entranced even while having the sense to know better. The world would be bleak by comparison as the blue became navy and then a velvety shade of black. Sunshine brightness and delicate elegance would drag her to the deepest reaches without even having to pull. Handholding served as kryptonite to Sid’s exhausting banter, to hush her smart lips and allow them a break from her tireless mind. Her sharp flirtatious smirk turned benign and dopey akin to lovestruck cartoon; hearts replacing her lustful eyes and her step lightened as if floating atop a cloud. It was as if she could feel the anvil readying itself to be dropped and she standing dizzily, perfectly positioned. Too good to be true didn’t quite fit the moment that Sid found herself in, rather it was too curated to be real.

Her senses finally recognized the assault. Though the realization was jarring, she managed to maintain a steady canter alongside the blonde’s sprint. The game wasn’t over yet. Her cutesy poetry was just a ploy and for Sid had enjoyed eating it up but she had to find a rebuttal. Stella had really been improving in their little back and forth. Her soft words had been meant for different ears, a heavy attack but nothing that Sid couldn’t defend against or perhaps even counter. She smiled after Stella’s little recital, a chance for her to pull in a much-needed breath through her nose, trying desperately to get oxygen back to her brain. Whatever she did it would have to be understated, subtle but utterly charming. Touch, it was the obvious counter and all at once she’d had enough of her mechanical brain. Very rarely thoughtless in her actions, but preplanning did nothing for sincerity. Sincerely, Sid wanted to touch the woman in front of her and there had never been any denial of that, but she did also want to win this little game they’d been playing. Her free hand reached out and toyed with the bottom of the blonde’s tresses. Innocent enough. Her gaze focused and settled on Stella’s eyes, there was nowhere else to look in this final quarter. Her hand moved fluidly, fingers resting against her neck and her thumb finding the blonde’s striking jawline. “Since it’s a yes...” An effortless glance to plump and inviting lips before finding her familiar eyes once more. Her thumb moved lazily as if she was trying to understand Stella’s softness for the first time again. “You’ll kiss me before you drown me, won’t you?” 

As soon as Sid’s hand was released, she moved to crack her knuckles absentmindedly or perhaps it was just her own way of self-soothing. Absence apparently made the heart grow fonder for most, but in truth, presence made her own fonder; each stolen moment feeling more preposterous than the last. They weren’t meant for her, but she took them nonetheless and cherished them like the ink on her skin. With time their meanings may change, parts may fade but the experience would always remain the same. “I’ll have to do a lot more than just kiss you to make sure you make a full recovery.” Their safe space, gentle flirtation, a world away from poetic and tactile intensity. The flower choices were interesting, two beautiful picks though considering the space lavender would make for a sophisticated and dainty rib piece. “Sting you? Oh no, babe, a honeybee only gets one. This, this is going to be over and over, think more tantric.” Sid enjoyed pain with her pleasure and tattooing had grown to be an incredible turn on for her when creating masterpieces on the right people. Perhaps it was the closeness or the consistent touching, grazing over skin and watching it be transformed by her own hand. Then there was the look from the non-initiated those who were intrigued by tattooing and insisted on watching Sid work. In her experience with a specify brand of clientele in always lent itself to a more impassioned view of the other, probably why Sid was entirely accommodating to Stella’s impromptu revival of her wish for a tattoo. 

[darling-with-no-problems]

[sidjcmes1-blog]

krissyreyes‌:

“I’d get you a cake with fifty-six candles, but I think that would be a fire hazard.” God was it good that Kristina had ended up walking through that shop’s door tonight. Somehow Sidney had become exactly what she needed to loosen up, to clear her mind of all of the shit that was had happened. It was just easy being there, simple, no extra effort required. Krissy rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah. But you’re the outlier. You’re not a bad person.” The phrase was presented as a throwaway, though it shouldn’t have been. Driftwood attracted a lot of dangerous people, people who could put you in your grave if you looked at them wrong - that was the main draw. But there were also people like Sidney who were just there to kick back and have a good time. How she could do so in the midst of the mess Kristina could not fathom, but she was always glad to see Sidney in the crowd.

Her eyes stayed on her wrist as Sidney began the process and Krissy nodded after she spoke; for a spur-of-the-moment tattooing, this was already going well. “Yeah, that’s perfect. Go for it.”

“I don’t do birthdays. Every day I bless you with my presence is a celebration.” It was true, no cakes or candles for Sid. A few sad birthdays did always make for a lifetime of avoidance. What was the point in a cake and candles if there was no one to sing to her? Instead for birthdays, she liked to blackout in cities she didn’t recognize and let the day pass unbeknownst to her. “Oh I’m bad alright.” The artist shot back with a flirtatious grin. “... But in terms of Driftwood, I’m definitely, at the very least, top three most attractive clientele.” Self-assessment but she’d been there enough to know that while Santa Cielo was home to some beauties, there were beasts too. Sid paid no mind to men and women who thought that infamy brought them power. It made no difference to her and she never did think to treat them with any specialty. If she went and pissed off someone who came off to trigger-happy she’d get on the back of her bike and get the hell out of dodge. What was it to her? She’d find a new town and settle herself with the shores of Santa Cielo laid to rest in her memory as one hell of a trip. 

“Alright, lady, I’ll pull a line and we’ll see how you feel.” Sid swiveled in her chair to grab her gun and get it going. She swiped some vaseline over the first letter and dipped the needle tip into her ink well before starting on the first line. “So? Am I a soft touch?”

[sidjcmes1-blog]

andie-vega‌:

Andie stumbled her way into her dimly lit apartment before she turned to look at the person at her aid. With a quick gesture, she brushed back the fabric that was covering her neck and exposed her greying bruises to her new companion, thumb marks clearly evident in the divets where Thomas had had a hold on her. She then sighed, throwing her bag onto the couch and attempting to get her heels off without completely falling on her ass - or her face, whichever would hit the ground first.

“I woke up and he was strangling me. A nightmare, you know? You know he has those. So I kicked him out, kicked him right out and said I needed a break. But did I keep the ring? Sure did.” The woman slurred, digging into the fabric of her shirt to pull out a long chain that had the very ring hooked upon the end of it.

Sid wasn’t sure if she was meant to stay, or if this was just a drop and go situation. Though she went off instinct and following the woman in when she didn’t get the door closed in her face. This whole evening was prime time stuff. It was somewhere between reality TV and a murder mystery. Her very own ‘who-done-it’ on The Real Housewives of Santa Cielo. It had been fun and games to her up until the reveal. If Sid was the emotive type her jaw would have all but hit the floor, her stoic features instead hardening at the bruises. Nothing seemed to be making any sense. She moved over to Andie to offer herself as stability, arm outstretched to keep her from falling. 

“Okay...” That was a start, Sid unsure if sobriety or inebriation would have better helped the situation. She was drunk and it had actually led her to listen to the little roadside wasted white girl so in a way it had already paid dividends. Andie certainly had every reason to want to drink from where Sid was standing. “But how did you fuck it up?” The artist repeated herself, unable to help that the scene had been set for a parting of ways. “Did you want to keep the ring?” There seemed to be a neverending stream of questions that popped into her mind but she restrained herself so as to not overwhelm the drunk woman in front of her. 

[sidjcmes1-blog]

samanthahollis‌:

“I have to give you something to smolder at.” She let a shrug fall from loose shoulders. Samantha had not always intended to go down this path in life. She had signed her rights to a 9-5, regimented schedule away when she decided to become a doctor. The controlled chaos of the medical field had called to her. Her life had been a carefully choreographed flirt with disaster between her family and her own shortcomings, but she did her best to wrangle it into dormancy. Sam had her own motivations for becoming a medical examiner and had traded autopsy suites for surgical ones. Her days began where someone else’s life had ended, and she could never quite control when she got the call that she was needed at a scene rather than the morgue. She had always held an innate aloofness; only furthered by guarded walls and a scathing tongue she longed to let off the choke chain. Sam held no true, firm routine and could cross paths with Sid at almost any given point in time. From scrubs to a helmet tucked under her arm and Thai food cradled in the other, Samantha gave the people in her life whiplash. “You can still worship me either way.” She countered, though she would fling any sentiments of that sort far away. She would offer honesty in droves; often of the blunt variety. Any love won from Samantha in a hard-fought battle was of the tough sort. Sam was one to never say never. She kept certain cards close to her chest and others up her sleeve, though she had been more prone in her days with Mac. Samantha’s social media was often dark but she liked to pop up unexpectedly out of duty. She reveled in possessing enigmatic qualities and had carefully cultivated an ephemeral existence. “I like to leave others wanting for more.” Wanting anything at all. 

“I have a very distinct feeling that you just like toying with me, Samantha.” Sid jabbed, always appreciative when played with. She was feline in her way, moving towards whatever interested her or wherever she was fed and mosied on when she’d had her fill with both. The main objective didn’t always have to be met, the tease was sometimes all that Sid was looking for. The thrill of the chase was almost as good as the catch and tended to satisfy her sweet tooth. “Worship, huh? You’re asking a lot from me.” Was it an impossible task? No, of course not. Sid as an artist was probably the prime candidate to start worship sessions with. Evenings at a time where she could dedicate herself to Sam’s cutting brow and her sleek jawline. Maybe she’d paint her, maybe she’d fuck her, either way, it would be mesmerizing and worth dropping her guard for more than a breath. Sid had no problem with the fact that Sam seemed to be the ever dangling taunt, so close but a step out of reach. The only problem she had was the entirely selfless vision of what that poor beautiful doctor was missing out on. It was heartbreaking to think about and Sid did try to keep her mind from wandering to the fun they could have. “Wanting more? Sam, you have to give the people something to make them want more.” At the very least Sid had surely reaped the benefits of her own advice. A little flirtation had gone a long way, the cold shoulder didn’t work for most. The majority needed a little warming, some affection or attention to give them a reason to give something back. Sid was the minority, seeking out rarer finds, able to look past chilly receptions as a unique game of poker. Holding, folding and knowing when to gamble; a vice of Sid’s. And she’d surely hang around to see if all that Sam was was a bluff, happily so. 

[isabellawhitegluz]

[sidjcmes1-blog]

andie-vega‌:

Another sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she shook her head, albeit a little too wobbly - after all, it did feel like her head weighed the equivalent weight of two elephants put together, but that was her own goddamn fault. “It’s fine, you know? Just my one and only chance at an actual love and I fucked it up.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, allowing some drunken tears to well up in her eyes as she walked alongside her new friend.

At some point, the two women ended up back at Andie’s apartment and she fumbled with her bag to get the keys out - they were in the bottom of her bag underneath a trash mountain of receipts and candy wrappers. But what else was new? When she finally got the keys out of the bottom of her bag, she attempted a few times to unlock the door but her hands decided that dexterity wasn’t on the menu tonight - so the keys clattered to the ground and echoed throughout the empty hallway of her apartment building.

There it was, the cliff hanger, the slow roll of Netflix credits before it auto played the next episode. Sid wasn’t ashamed to say she was hooked on this juicy little storyline. Perhaps drinking helped her emotions, allowed them to be something more than just repressed echos. Here with Andie, she was caught up in the throes of the he-said-she-said and was happy to stay. “Wait, wait... Again, not my business, but you fucked it up?” The look she offered Andie was positively incredulous. Nothing against Thom but he was a rowdy one on the best of nights. 

“I guess I’m in charge of getting them.” Sid watched the woman drop the keys, knowing that there was no way of her retrieving them without falling. She swooped down and picked up their only way into the woman’s apartment, even through a night of drinking her hands were still as dextrous as ever. Once she had them secured she squinted out one eye to try and find the best angle to actually make them usable. “Okay, I’m definitely understanding the struggle.” Sid admitted before finally turning them in the lock, standing back for Andie. “Ladies first.” 

[sidjcmes1-blog]

stellarosenthal‌:

“No, I just take metaphors too far.” Stella offered a small shrug in return. “I wanted to be a marine biologist there for a hot second. It was the closest I could get to being a mermaid, it seemed.” Mythic aspirations aside, she was rather pleased with where she ended up. She had always had an affinity for the sea, though she was not the sort to chase the thrill of regattas and races like the ancestors before her. “It was my grandfather’s, and still makes me feel connected to him somehow.” He had been the first person she had ever adored, though she had offered that honor to a select few in her life. She tipped her head sideways to study Sid’s entire form and let her gaze rise and fall. “It would be so easy to adore you.” She let the words float by, choosing to keep them passive and buoyant. What they had worked, with Stella choosing to continue playing their game. It was a defensive measure; one to counter Sid’s entity and to prevent the curator from becoming a blushing, bashful mess. Stella constantly found beauty in destruction and bringing pieces back from ruin, but she had yet to do with her mosaiced heart. There wasn’t room for it in this equation, and she had been guarding it more fiercely as of late. Adoration was another beast entirely – one that would be far too easy to slip into.

Stella gave a languid stretch as she shifted in the chair. She angled her ribs to settle under Sid’s touch. A hand moved over Sid’s as she indicated the rough area of free real estate she was offering up, though her hand lingered. “We’re going big, or we can just go home,” Stella shot back. “Not too big, though.” She had seen enough of the other’s work to trust in Sid’s aesthetic. She had taken the time to explore what Sid had immortalized and wasn’t one to pass up a chance when one presented itself. She still stood by her claims she had made earlier and was leaving this entirely up to the artist. There would be no way to Stella to fix a possible disaster with her own hands, but she would relinquish aesthetic control to none other than Sidney James. “I hope I make it, Doc. Will I have to be on bed rest under careful care?” The blonde canted her head forward in an attempt to hide a grin of her own. “It’s all up to you.” Maybe a little yellow if Sid was feeling truly wild. Maybe even a sprig of lavender. “Depending on how you want me, you’ll have my bad ear. Feel free to tell me all your secrets or pledge your undying fealty.”

“Keeps me on my toes.” Sid did appreciate the woman’s wish to offer a metaphor to everything, dumbfounding the tattoo artist at every turn. Her mind wandered away, Stella’s siren alternate pulling her to the bluest deep. There was an enthralling quality about her, whether she meant to draw people in or not. Though she wasn’t all that sure on her mythology, Sid was positive that if she was a little high and spotted Stella emerging from her oceanic homestead after a quick dip she would be easily mistaken for her mermaid fantasy. Sea salt soaked tresses, an ocean-dwellers physique and a nymphish beauty that would send Sid to wreck. “We should go for a dip sometime. See if we can’t make that fantasy a reality.” The artist managed to say after finally resurfacing. Most others found themselves caught by compliments while Sid basked in the glow, however, she wasn’t impenetrable. What made the tattoo artist falter was being made privy. Strange, but true. The offering of personal detailings often left Sid wishing to look around for the better-suited ears. From Stella, she took it was silent gratitude and made a mental note to treat the boat with respect. Not that she wouldn’t, not that she didn’t respect others’ spaces, it just seemed important to her. 

Sid had never allowed space for love. From her younger years, difficult people had made it impossible for her to know love for herself and so without that the love of others never made sense. She’d since left those dark worlds behind but found herself struggling to catch back up in topics that seemed so primary to most. People fell in love and they stayed together forever. Sid fell in lust and then stayed at a distance. Watching from the inside, behind glass that she’d never thought to break. It was safer staying where she was comfortable. It was safer to be adored. Adoration didn’t necessitate closeness. All that it asked for was a subject that inspired, whether that be with beauty, brawn or brilliance. Sid was of a handsome ilk, her genes and unique aesthetics had allowed for automatic adoration; or at the very least an impressive following on Instagram. It was all that Sid had thought to want for, anything beyond adoration too much of a venture into the unknown. “You should try it out sometime.” Her dangerously watchful eyes stayed glued on their intended target while her lips couldn’t keep from smirking. It was a balancing act, leaving it vague and offering Stella the space to rebuke her, to tear her down. Sid could take it in their good-natured game of chicken; how close could they get and who would break first? Her competitive side believing that the latter question was for Stella alone.

Sid’s hand moved over Stella’s skin with a ferocious tenderness. Being tactile-natured left her feeling beastly when touch became the chosen mode of flirtation. It was with great restraint that she still managed to hold a conversation, her senses trying to ground themselves in her surroundings rather than in Stella. Big? No, it wouldn’t be big, though it wouldn’t be small either; and Stella had beat her to the punch. “I was just going to say.” Sid offered contently with an appreciative nod. It will be perfectly noticeable in its detail and not for its stature, not unlike its soon to be owner. The most important facet of the piece, however, would be that Stella enjoyed it and so being on a similar page only reinforced the artist’s confidence. “Are you worried that you won’t make it? You’re in great hands, you know that.” She’d grown lustful again, their conversations always a most titillating ebb and flow; borderline tidal. “What’s your favorite flower?” Maybe she’d use it, maybe she wouldn’t, but options were always good to have. Sid could see the piece in her mind's eye and it excited her. Tattooing did excite her as a medium for her art but some pieces really did offer to her muse in abundance. “It’s not your bad ear.” She couldn’t help but remark. “You’ll probably think it’s a blessing by the end of this, not having to listen to all my sweet nothings.” 

[sidjcmes1-blog]

andie-vega‌:

Andie nodded and made a flippant gesture, attempting to curtsey for the person opposite her but tripping slightly over her own feet. She rubbed her eye and let her arms slump - her demeanor clearly unforgiving and defeated. “We broke up. Long, long story. One I cannot be trusted to tell while under the influence of an entire bottle of tequila.” She pointed with her finger, making it abundantly clear that the fact was entirely true.

Sid kept ahold of Andie who had decided to try her hand at dramatics again, making sure to be gentle but to keep her upright too. “Hey, that’s okay. I don’t need to be in your business, I just need to get you home safe.” Thom wouldn’t forgive her, nor would she forgive herself she supposed. Basic human decency was Sid’s only moral compass and it was pointing her exactly where Andie decided to lead them. “I don’t know what happened but uh-- For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Apologies never passed Sid’s lips, most especially not for other people but there was something about the situation that left her feeling pangs of something. Sadness? Not really. Guilt? No, that wasn’t the one. Disappointment? It could have been that one. Thom always dropped little factoids about Andie, small little nothings that turned into drunken lectures about how he’d found the one. Was this just an unfortunate turn of events? Or had Sid been right all along in believing that love never did know how to last? 

[sidjcmes1-blog]

samanthahollis‌:

“Don’t let my pretty face distract from capturing yours.” She was sure the other could never quite deduce what mood Sam would be in on any given day, but she had chosen to cooperate with this interaction. Though she no longer dressed simply to be undressed by another, Samantha was nothing vulgar to look at. She was an elusive creature at heart – only furthered by long hours at work. Others were spent pounding out frustrations at the gym. It was far more acceptable to devastate an intended target rather than letting knuckles scrape against proper flesh and bone. “That’s one way of putting it,” Samantha raised her eyebrows. “I’m a doctor, not a nun.” Sam was clinical in more than one sense of the word, but she was far from sterile. That was simply reserved for the autopsy suite. “Would I do what?” She feigned a more demure manner before peering over the other’s shoulder. “Would I? If the circumstances were right. Will we? No.” She reached out a nimble finger and swiped to one she favored. “Send that one to the cute blonde I saw sneaking out this morning.” 

“You are distracting.” And she knew it too which was always an attractive trait, or maybe it was a trained bluff. Sam was impossible to read. Sid would chance her arm with charming grins and a pickup lines that she even impressed herself with and it would work every so often and other times it was as if she didn’t exist. A very curious position to be in for someone as striking and as confident as Sidney James. “I know, I know, trust me, if you were a nun I’d consider religion. But doctors are usually pretty unbiased and I’m just looking for honesty. There is logic here.” The tall tattoo artist explained, more to herself than the woman in front of her. Clinical was a compliment in her opinion. The idea of being overtly biased meant seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses without knowing it, a dangerous disadvantage to have. “See I’m more of a never say never kind of person. You just don’t know when you might need a cup of sugar.” Or a pair of well-practiced hands. Sam seemed to work all hours of the day and Sid wanted to be neighborly about it. Some neighbors would have offered to mow her lawn or pull out her trash cans on garbage day but Sid was more interested in playing to her strengths. Her eyes looked over the selected picture critically. The angle was good, so was the lighting and it had stuck out to Sam so surely it was a safe bet. Cute blonde? Stella. Hardly sneaking out, rather work tended to pull her from Sid’s lustful clutches. “See that’s what an Instagram is for. She’ll see it and so will everyone else who’s looking for me.” Economical dispersal of content. Though she didn’t make her money as an ‘influencer’ she did offer some time to her online presence. Sid enjoyed cataloging looks and aesthetics for others benefit. Boyfriend, girlfriend, career and life goals all wrapped up in one pleasingly neat package. 

[sidjcmes1-blog]

andie-vega‌:

Andie squinted her eyes momentarily before she pointed at the person, a look of confusion coming over her very drunk exterior. “Wait, Sid. Do you know Thomas? My Thomas, do you know him? I feel like you do.” She stated, slurring her words a little bit and using a term of possession for her partner as if he was still hers - though he clearly wasn’t anymore.

Oh no. 

Sid didn’t say it out loud but she was sure her animated featured said more than enough. “I’m gonna make an educated guess and say that you’re Andie?” A flashback of Thom’s fresh tattoo picked the wrong time to make itself known in her mind's eye. Sid was nothing but confused by the whole situation. Every time Thom had spoken of her she was the light of his life and there was nothing but a fairytale future in front of them. This really was reality TV and she was playing the role of an invested viewer incredibly well. “What the hell happened?” Sid did not wish to blame Thom immediately, but she’d be lying if there was a sneaking suspicion that this woman wasn’t to blame. 

[sidjcmes1-blog]

andie-vega‌:

Andie made a flippant hand gesture as she began spilling her secrets to this person, having no real regard for personal privacy or anything of the sort. “I was supposed to be engaged at this point. But no, everything had to happen and now here I am, drunk and with a stranger.” The woman slurred, shaking her head to herself with her palm on her forehead.

“Not that you aren’t a lovely person, but you know, I don’t know you.” She stated matter of factly, looking between the person helping her and the road in front of her. She watched her feet move along the pavement, the sound of her heels clicking ringing very loudly in her sensitive ears.

Sid did enjoy talking with her hands but this woman seemed to really love batting and gesturing unto herself. “Engaged?” She sounded it out slowly, getting why this woman might have wanted to drink like bottles were endless. It was like she was cast in an episode of something on E! Handsome young distraction for the main starlet whose engagement just broke down. It was perfect. At the very least it would have made for good TV. “Hey, listen, it’s okay.” It sounded like something that should be said. “I am fucking lovely though. I guess I can definitely be less strange...” The taller of the two asked, wishing to shake the woman’s hand but she wasn’t going to chance trying to stop them. “I’m Sid. Don’t know what people want to know or whatever, but you know. I’m Sid and I’m walking you home.”  

[sidjcmes1-blog]

samanthahollis‌:

▓┊《 ‹ open.

“Did you just look at me? Don’t look at me if it’s supposed to be a candid,” Samantha looked up from the phone in her hand. She eyed the subject and made a move to reframe the shot. If she was going to bother to do something, she might as well do it right. Sam had an eye for detail, but this was out of her usual scope. “Turn a bit to the left – too far,” she corrected and snapped one more. The device was returned to its rightful owner. She lingered for approval or a do-over, pulling down a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head in the meantime. 

“Look at you? You know I can’t help it.” Sid shot back before pushing a hand back through her hair, eyes downcast, a preferred pose of hers. There was a system, a way of going about these things to get the most out of them. People followed for her tattoos, her androgynous aesthetic or her pleasing jawline. So hitting one or more of those demographics was paramount. “See, you already know my best side.” Right or left, they were both pretty good, but she did want to keep this woman happy while she offering up her service. Sid moved to take her phone back, flicking through the pictures thoughtfully. In truth, she was a biased judge of her own aesthetics. She’d had her time of questioning and her times of self-hatred, but for the most part, she’d surpassed that dark time. Instead of being unsure of who she was looking at she found herself quite in awe of her mirror companion. “You’re like a... Clinical lady, so I’m counting on your opinion. Would you?” 

[sidjcmes1-blog]

andie-vega‌:

Andie shook her head and leaned against the person next to her, a sigh escaping her lips as she walked. “No. My relationship has just fallen apart. The usual.” She sighed, rubbing her eye as she attempted to move forward. She wasn’t particularly in the business of spilling her personal information to a stranger but she really had no choice at this point - she was drunk and completely useless to herself.

The usual? What on God’s green earth did that mean? She wasn’t religious, but something almighty had to get involved to allow Sid to understand and comfort this woman. Sid didn’t even know how to build a relationship, let alone maintain one. Though the more she thought about it maybe she was an ideal candidate for conversation since she had seen many of them break down in her life. Not her own of course, but other people’s eyes tended to linger over her longer than their partners were comfortable with.  “So you’re having a rough one.” The taller of the pair started before taking a healthy drag of her cigarette to compose herself. “Was it like... Mutual? Or one of those ‘It’s not me, it’s you’ kinda deals?” Sid figured she may as well strap in. No, she did not want to hear it but sometimes sacrifice paid off. This was her version of paying forward, hoping that somewhere in her future there was a beauty waiting to pay her back. 

[deactivatedunfollowmelol]

[sidjcmes1-blog]

stellarosenthal‌:

“We just have to turn the valve slightly, no need for full airflow despite it being a deep dive if you so choose.” Though raised in an environment that frowned upon sex before marriage, Stella much preferred Sid’s beatific face to the beatitudes. Stella held light in abundance, but she chose how she spread and spent it… and how she spread and spent other things. She was no prude in the bedroom, but she kept such actions there. She wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but certain actions could keep her quiet. “I can’t play Doctor and give you what you want in that way. At least not very well.” The patient in her studio would require her full attention, but she was sure it would turn upon Sid soon enough. Stella wasn’t opposed to visitors, but if she had to swat hands away from the microscope one more time… ‘I’m just looking for my ex’s dick, Stella’ her ass. 

Sid’s fleeting, upturned gaze elicited an eye roll. “We passed that point of no return a long time ago.” Stella glanced down, eyeing the spot that would forever be decorated. “I knew I should have gone with a different bra today,” she feigned insult at Sid’s professionality. The curator held the notion that art didn’t always have to have meaning. Art for art’s sake, for aesthetic’s sake, for beauty’s sake – they were all valid. She trusted Sid with all of those, but if pressed she had some semblance of reason, however cheesy it may be. Honey bees will protect at the risk of its own life, and Stella was nothing if not loyal and courageous. If she could only sting once, she would make it count. She looked back up at Sidney, amusement twinkling. “I owe Ophelia a long walk and owe myself some sushi, but I could be swayed otherwise. Doctor’s orders?”

“What are you some deep sea diver too? I thought the boat was just for show?” Aesthetically so. If Sid had a boat that would mean one of two things: Either she would sail the oceans and dock where she pleased like some kind of modern-day explorer or her Instagram would begin to include an oceanic background. The latter was so much more feasible. Sid was bi-lingual, dipping in and out of her mother tongue as quick as sentences came to her mind. Born with conversational English and her fluent second language was that of flirtation. They tended to run into one another in her mind and she paid no attention to what managed to make it out of her mouth. “You know, I don’t doubt your ability to give me what I want, you shouldn’t either.” Without a conscious thought, her tongue happily danced out her vampish words, a content grin sitting on her lips. If she was afforded the opportunity to watch Stella work or at the very least welcomed into her space to see what she was working on in person she’d be nothing but polite. In a way it was why Sid had a hard time bringing people home from bars or wherever she might find them, her little homestead doubling as her studio. There were pieces there for her eyes only, it was the sanctuary of her much love passion, not available to just anyone.  

“Why’s that? I like this one.” It was Sid’s turn to play. Her hand reached out and delicate fingers moved along the band of the blonde’s bralette, lingering for a dangerous moment. She didn’t want to pull away and so she didn’t, her digits stayed, moving downward over familiar skin. Her eyes made their way to Stella’s own, watchful for a reaction. “Where am I putting this little honeybee?” Once given a space she’d be better able to envision what she’d make of the piece. Sid valued any opportunity where she was allowed to freehand work. It meant that there would be no online stencil, no copy and paste qualities and no other work quite like it. That was art. Art was the line drawing on the skin and editing during the needlework, brainwaves occurring in the works early stages that leant themselves to a beautiful end result. “Doctor’s orders,” Sid repeated with a victorious grin, their little game turning out to be a win for both sides. “We do have to get this thing done first though. Looking for colour or black and grey? And if there’s anything you really want to see, just tell me and we’ll make it happen.” That was an assurance that Sid had no doubt in. Of course, there were limitations but her dedication to her artistry meant that the limits only came in terms of tools and hours in the day.