#tile club artist

[thepaintedroom]

William Merritt Chase (American, 1849-1916) • In the Studio • c. 1892

[starrystevie]

thinking about steve as a radio show host. he's pretty, clean cut, charming with the guests and surprisingly invested in the interviews he does with them. he listens to all of their albums no matter what and uses it as a way to expand his music taste and loves breaking down his favorites with the artists themselves. he's a beloved household name from his radio show to his talk show to his product endorsements and he's known as one of the nicer celebrities out there.

thinking about steve being out and proud, dating whoever he wants, whenever he wants, and not shying away from the publicity it gets him. he waves at the cameras that are flashing as he leaves clubs with someone new on his arm, smiles at the people who stare when he walks down the street holding hands with a new boyfriend, laughs along with the interviewers when he has a girlfriend the following week for a red carpet event.

thinking about steve going to work one day after staying up all night to listen to this new metal band on the scene trying to bring back "real rock and roll" as their lead singer puts it. he has a latte in one hand, corroded coffin cd booklet with annotated sticky notes poking out between the pages in the other as he slams open the door. he jumps when he finds the band already in the studio, the back of a curly head he almost recognizes sitting in his chair.

thinking about steve dropping his overpriced latte on the carpet when he realizes just who is sitting in his chair. his mind flashes back to months ago where he met some rockstar in some club who had a fiery smirk and wonderfully smart fingers. he still has the shirt the guy left behind at his place in the back of a drawer as a memento from a very successful one night stand that he tried to find again for weeks.

thinking about steve wrapping up the interview as easily as he can while staring at the singer who still pops up in his dreams late a night. he's out of his chair the second he can be and excuses himself to the bathroom with a not so subtle nod for a certain member to follow and counts the tiles in the ceiling as he waits for him to show up. he grins all wide and cat like when the door opens and pulls him into the stall to get his hands on him as fast as he can.

thinking about steve getting eddie munson's phone number as he buttons his pants up, both of them breathless and sated as they lean against the stall door. he learns he loves the taste of eddie's smile even more in the day time and makes a promise to himself to call him as soon as he gets home. he's not going to let him get away again, he still has a shirt to return after all.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Sadly, this retiree-turned-artist's home just outside of St. Louis, Missouri didn't sell and has been taken off the market. The asking price of $499K was reasonable for the area, but apparently buyers just weren't into his mosaic art. I really love it- check it out.

Love the technique he did on the door- reminiscent of Pee Wee's Playhouse.

He did the mosaic floors and also the paintings on the walls.

I really like the design on the fire place and hearth. It has an art deco look.

This is so nice. People are so dull, they probably would've bought it if it was white or gray.

The owner, named Frank, was inspired by his favorite place, the Venice Cafe. The local haunt was known for its eclectic decor comprising statues, curios, and mosaic tiles.

The kitchen is nice. Love the orange cabinets. At first, the house was put on the market for $534,900, and was eventually reduced to $499K.

Off to the side of the kitchen what they call "The Rotunda."

He did the same technique on the bedroom windows giving the illusion of irregular shapes.

Frank's favorite room is the ocean themed bath. He thought that he would just die here, but at 73, he's living longer than he thought he would, so he & his wife have decided to downsize.

This is cool- it's from his inspiration, The Venice Cafe's, FB page.

I can see why he wanted his home to look this, it's amazing.

I notice that they have pet turtles, too.

No wonder he did his home like this, I'd never want to leave.

Outside, it looks like an architectural salvage yard.

Sure wish I could buy that house and live here.

https://www.businessinsider.com/quirky-missouri-mosaic-house-for-sale-venice-club-photos-2023-6

[evan-collins90]

The first Torrid store - Brea Mall - Brea, CA (Opened April 18, 2001)

Designed by JGA, Inc. 

From the book: “The retailer, Hot Topic, based in City of Industry, CA, started a short 12 years ago with a concept and a target market; cutting edge apparel, accessories and novelty items--all inspired by alternative music, oriented towards a hip and trendy, teenage market. Hot Topic changed the look of their retail settings, which are usually located in mainstream malls, and the company has recently taken aim at another special market. The new focus is on plus-size teens; an area that the fashion market seems to have neglected. 

Up until this time the 15-30 year old hip and trendy young women who wear sizes 14-26 had no other choice but to shop in the larger size women's shops where the fashions were tailored to the more matronly and conservative tastes. That is how Torrid was born! 

Torrid was introduced in a new, hot and fun retail setting designed by JGA, Inc. of Southfield, MI which has designed the various prototypes for the Hot Topic stores as well. To be sure of the need for such a niche to be filled, the company opened five Torrid shops almost simultaneously; the first in Brea, CA, followed by stores in malls in Mission Viejo, CA, Annapolis, MD, Omaha, NE, N. Attleboro, MA, and Littleton, CO. The merchandise offerings are clustered as "Streetwear," "Clubwear," Rockabilly Wear," and Renaissance Wear" and the stores average about 2,750 SF. Besides the "everyday" slacks and novelty T-shirts, these larger size young women can find black vinyl pants and mini-skirts, black corsets, dog-collar chokers and platform shoes as well as retro-inspired clothing and accessories. In addition to the gothic and prom dresses, Torrid also carries a full line of lingerie for this particular market. Listening to the target market, Hot Topic's Torrid offers teenagers and up the opportunity to look "girly yet fierce." 

The design objective for the prototype store that was designed by JGA, Inc. was to create "a celebration of abundance" and make the setting as unique, unconventional and spirited as the plus-size young women who will be shopping here. Inspired by a "mythological, after-hours club in New Orleans," the atmosphere is romantic, dark and filled with a sense of "unbridled passion." "From the signature flaming heart icon to the curving voluptuous lines throughout the store, excessive materials and scale mirror the zest of the Torrid woman." It starts out front with the shopper-stopping facade which serves as a dramatic gateway to the store. 

The curvaceous and sensuous "hourglass" figures of the Torrid customer is expressed in the hand-crafted metalwork and the backlit translucent glass glowing red. A "drippy" red chandelier and the hand blown flaming heart torcheres add to the store's distinctive sense of place and being. The mosaic porcelain tile floor sets the color palette of jewel tones and metallics. "Visually complex, layers of finishes and architectural pieces evoke a one-of-a-kind artistic flavor." The eclectic mix of fixtures, furniture and furnishings-even the armoires--add to the New Orleans flavor. The hand painted, whimsical and overscaled armoires or cabinets are used to anchor the various zones within the store and at the center of the space a large bronze metallic drape further divides the departments.

The designers added special touches to each area to create that unique, one-of-a-kind feeling to the design. Specially designed, oversized red sculptured chairs with slatted backs are featured in the shoe area. Shoes and accessories are displayed on the slatted backs. The lingerie area takes on a more intimate and exotic--almost Moroccan--feeling with the hand blown glass chandeliers suspended down from large plaster domes. Seen behind this area--beyond a hand painted wall and arc--are the individual, oversized dressing rooms which are equipped with flattering uplights and decorative chandeliers that are visible from other parts of the store. The cash wrap becomes a "focal fantasy" in the total design and it resembles a giant canopy bed topped with twisting shapes and forms.

The space is filled with a pulsating excitement that is so appropriate for the merchandise and the young clientele. In addition to the shimmering palette of rich, deep colors, the warm colored downlights not only enrich the ambient colors and textures but they enhance the merchandise display. The traditional long and narrow mall space is broken up into more personal and individual zones by the variations in ceiling heights, the tin ceilings, finials and the assorted wall coverings. The use of brocades, metallics, and jewel tones on the walls also help to differentiate areas in the store. The metal fixture system--tortoise shell like in appearance--was customized to accommodate the products unique size and length requirements.

If all goes as well as anticipated we can expect to see more and more Torrid shops opening up across the USA- maybe even as many as 700 outlets!”

Images and text were scanned from the book, Stores of the Year 14 by Martin Pegler (2003)

[certified-ni-ki-lover]

“Aren’t you the model from my figure drawing class?”

SEVENTEEN The8 Oneshot

You finally got hands-on tickets to one of the most famous art museums. Not only were you able to finally see all the spectacular paintings & sculptures but you also saw an unexpected piece, which was undoubtedly the most gorgeous artwork in theworld.

Word Count: 743

MASTERLIST

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .

You loved art. You loved how there were so many forms of art you could express yourself with. Sculptures. Paintings. Sketches. Photography. You loved them all. You could express yourself in different kinds of art. You loved how some artworks could have such deep & beautiful meanings behind them & how some were just simple &aesthetically pleasing.

You loved sketching & painting. You were in a painting club & sketching class. You enjoyed seeing how different everyone around would paint. Some would paint sadness, some happiness some anger, others just did it for fun & to please their minds.

Your sketch class was rather interesting. You signed up so you could develop your skills more. They brought in models for everyone to sketch. Each time the same model came in you would barely recognize them. Their outfits & hairstyles would get more complicated & detailed. But you liked that.

Today you were so excited. Your aunt surprised you last minute by giving you tickets to one of the most popular art museums. You’ve been trying for months trying to get your hands on these tickets. Now you finally had them. You couldn’t wait to see all the beautiful artwork & get inspired by all the amazing artists. You hurriedly got dressed, grabbed a quick bite to eat & then headed to the museum.

When you got in you were special at how elegant & unreal everything looked. Not only was the artwork in there beautiful, but the building itself was also gorgeous. The architecture was spectacular, from the floor tiles, pillars everything.

You roamed around observing all the artwork, taking pictures & writing down notes. That when you saw him. Staring at a painting was a model that came frequently to your class. Every Tuesday, Wednesday & Friday. All your sketches of him were stunning. You paid very close attention to him & to every little detail. You sort of developed a crush on him. It was hard not to. The way he talked about art was like music to your ears. You could hear him talk about his favorite paintings, why they were his favorite & the meanings behind every one of them 24/7. His eyes sparkled whenever he talked about them, which made him look even more breathtaking.

You decided today was the day you were going to ask him out. You took a deep breath & walked towards him. “Aren’t you the model from my figure drawing class?” he jumped at the sudden voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you” you said embarrassed. “It’s ok,” he said laughing a little “& yea I’ve seen you around there. Your sketches always turn out amazing” he said smiling. You could feel you cheeks heat up at the compliment “Thank you,” you replied shyly. “So, which is your favorite piece here so far” you asked trying to start a conversation with him. You could see his eyes light up & he began explaining his favorite pieces here & their meanings behind them. “Woah you know a lot about this museum” you said. “Yea, my parents own it so I’m here often” he replied. Your eyes grew wide “Your parents OWN this museum??!” you asked shocked “woah that’s so cool & lucky” you said, he just chuckled. “By the way, I never got your name,” he said smiling down at you. “It’s Y/N,” you replied smiling, “what about yours?” you asked back. “Xu Minghao” “but you can just call me hao” he said smiling.

“Well Y/N since it’s your first time here why don’t I give you a private tour of everything?” he asked “I would love that” you replied. Both of you walked around the museum & he showed you everything. Both of you talked about what you think each painting represents & what the artists was thinking while he made them. He even introduced you to his parents. They were super nice & were impressed by your art skills.

Around closing time you both went out, “um Y/N, I was wondering if you could give me your number?” he asked shyly. “It could be cool to hangout sometime. I know the perfect place we could go to paint the sunset” he said. “Sure, I would love that” you replied smiling, he smiled back. You gave him phone & he put in his number. That night both you texted each other till 1 AM making plans for your date the next day.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .

Let me know if anyone wants a part 2 to this!!💚💚

[tired-but-willing]

The Shadows Shadow

Pairing: Kaz Brekker / Inej Ghafa

Word Count: 1,525

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, and the Menagerie. Nothing is explicitly detailed.

Summary: A short hurt/comfort piece focusing on Inej's trauma, as I feel there aren't enough works doing that. It's not overly fluffy because it takes place earlier in the timeline— but I hope it's still enjoyable!

Authors Note: My @grishaversesecretsanta for the lovely @milo-my-beloved ! This project was an absolute treat to work on, and I'm very excited for 2024. Please check out the Secret Santa blog for works by other talented writers and artists.

Divider from @cafekitsune

There are some days where Inej thinks she never left the Menagerie behind.

It clings to her like a shadow, haunting her the same way she haunts Ketterdam. The Wraith pursued by a ghost. Perhaps it's a twist of irony, or the curling of a monkey's paw. A reminder that freedom in contract is not freedom in soul, and Inej may be free, but the young Suli girl torn from her home still sits terrified underneath the dictation of Tante Heleen. Her past is separated sorely from her present, and she finds difficulty in reconciling the small, fearful girl with herself. There are some similarities, of course. She is still slight. Her hair is still long. Hair holds memories, and memories are the dearest thing in the world. Not even memories of Heleen can destroy the devotion to other relics of the past, like her mother and father, or her dearest brother.

Unfortunately the consolation of familiarity is naught when the family she seeks isn’t there in her grasp. The warmth of her father is just out of reach. Her mothers laugh is out of earshot. This leaves her with nothing— not even her brother to hold, as she always loved to do. She sits alone on the cold floor of the Crow Club, back to a tile wall that may as well be formed of ice. Her feet— bare, always bare when she needs to ground herself— absorb the chill through the ground as well, prompting a shiver to wrack her body. She’s never been fond of the cold. It’s not that she hates it; she feels neutral to ice and chill; but she would always take a roaring fireplace and comfort over cold. Except for today. Today is when she needs the ice to keep her awake and remind her that she is alive. That she will stay alive until she reunites her family. Then, and only then, can she rest.

The task drives her forward. Faith that the Saints will bring her quest to fruition by being her guiding life keeps her going, keeps her fighting. There are some days, however, where hope feels like a monumental thing.

Like here. Now. Alone with her knees to her chest, feeling as small as she was when she arrived under Heleen’s thumb. As helpless as when she was ripped from her mothers clutches. Small and scared and everything that Inej Ghafa does not think of herself. Her size is at all times a strength; building into agility. Now it makes the bathroom feel much larger. The world, larger still; and she is alone. The warning of a sob drags at her breath, forcing the air inside her lungs to stutter and hitch like an unoiled door; coming in short bursts. It’s a balancing act, trying to maintain composure. Ketterdam is not a place where one can afford to look weak. There are those who would sink their teeth into anything raw, simply because they need to, to survive. Inej isn’t surprised by this. She’s had to bite into more than she wants— teeth bloody and tongue iron-coated with desperation. She’s had to claw and tear to live. It’s the way of the world, she knows; even if she hopes in her heart of hearts for a kinder place. Another universe where Inej Ghafa hurts nothing and is never hurt in return.

There’s a knock at the door that tears her from her thoughts; the subtle clunking that comes from metal and not man. The crow-head knob of a cane, not a fist. It makes her rise to her feet— albeit slower than usual— to respond.

“Kaz,” she says. She wouldn’t have to look to know it was him. She could recognize him anywhere, at any time; blindfolded and with her ears plugged.

“Inej,” comes his cool reply. He acts much older than he is. She supposes all of them do. Even Jesper, who can be so easily overlooked for being ‘immature’, is so far beyond what he should be allowed to be. “I thought I might find you here.”

“In the bathroom, yes. You could’ve waited until I was finished.”

“I didn’t hear you wash.” There’s a small smirk then. “I’d hope you never started.”

He caught her there. Inej wasn’t going to pretend she was using the restroom, anyway. It would be a pointless endeavor. Lying to Kaz often was. It was a bit unfair how good he was at sniffing out secrets while stacking up miles and miles of his own. Of course she could read him— she had recognized his tells— but he built in failsafe after failsafe.

Some days, she wondered if even Kaz Brekker knew who Kaz Brekker was. If the walls fooled even him.

“I needed to clear my head.”

He doesn’t question why she wouldn’t just go outside, as she always did when she needed to think. It’s no secret that Inej much prefers brooding on rooftops, if she must brood at all.

“And?”

It’s a prompt that both surprises her and doesn’t. She knows that somewhere inside him, Kaz cares. For her, for Jesper— but for his plans, too. She thinks that’s what makes it so difficult for him to express a single thing. If he admits he feels anything at all, then someone else can sink their claws into it, and he’ll lose it all.

“And it’s clear,” she says. 

“I think if it were clear,” he retorts. “You wouldn’t be sitting on the floor. Which is unsanitary, by the way.”

“We wash it.”

“Not often enough.” His nose wrinkles, then, and his age strikes her once more. “You could come to my study.”

An offer, now. Inej turns it over in her head. It feels unbalanced— sharing part of her with someone who won’t readily share himself in return. Inej doesn’t want to give and give and give. She wants, for once, to receive. But she’s tired too. Tired of toiling her own worries over in her mind, over and over again until she crumbles and cries into the night clutching a small scrap of fabric.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay,” says Kaz. And they go.

The study is more like a museum than an office. The paintings on the walls are stolen. She would know— she helped take most of them. There’s something familiar about it, though, that almost allows her to remove her guard. Almost. She won’t ever shed all her armor, but she can remove small pieces.

She takes one off when she says “How do I know this means anything?”

“This?” Asks Kaz. 

“Everything we do. I want to find my family, Kaz— it feels like I’ll never get there. The Saints—”

“The Saints won’t have anything to do with it when you find them,” he interrupts. When, not if. “It’s going to be you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Really?” He sits down on the edge of his desk, seemingly uncaring for the documents mere inches from where he made himself comfortable. “I wouldn’t work with someone incompetent. If anyone can track them— it’s you.”

It’s his way of complimenting her, she knows. Calling to her competency. Sometimes, though, she wishes he were more forthright.

“Is this your way of saying you believe in me?” She asks. It’s easier to joke than to crumble. “I’m touched.”

“You should be,” he responds, smiling wryly in the way only he can. “Not many people experience my kindness.”

And yes; it is kindness, for him. To have him call it that feels like a step in the right direction; even if his words are half-drenched in sarcasm at all times.

“I’m very lucky, then,” she says— equally wry as he.

“Do you regret it?” asks Kaz suddenly. It seems uncharacteristically vulnerable for him. He follows up. “You aren’t indentured to the Crow Club. You can leave. I won’t stop you. Jesper may whine—”

“Jesper.”

“---but he wouldn’t, either. You could go.”

“I could.”

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” she agrees. “I don’t regret it.”

She doesn’t. Not now. Maybe for a brief second, sitting on that bathroom floor, she did. Because she’d felt so small and insignificant, and she wanted only for things she couldn’t have. Now, Kaz reassures her. Some hopelessness still lingers. She thinks it won’t leave— not until all she wants is finally in her reach. But it’s diminished.

Progress is progress. She’ll take the hope she can have and she’ll hold it close, claws sunk in to prevent its escape. She’ll bite into it because biting is all she can do.

“I don’t regret it,” she repeats. This time it’s for his benefit. Something in Kaz doesn’t relax then, but it does the next closest thing. Something in his smile seems less like a monster and more like a boy. 

It’s barely noticeable. All she does is notice things. They make a good pair, him and her.

“Good,” he says. “I don’t, either.”

The conversation won’t be enough to keep her satisfied. It won’t soothe her at night when she is cold. It won’t place a healing balm upon her grief. 

But it warms her now, and that is enough.

[walkingdetroit]

Art in the Stations: Fort/Cass

Overlooking the historic Detroit Club and the former Detroit Free Press building (now Press/321), Fort/Cass is one of the first People Mover stations I became familiar with due to its proximity to Rosa Parks Transit Center, John K. King Books, and the old Salvation Army thrift store (you can still check out Sally's on Fort)

"Untitled" by Farley Tobin is inspired by the Taj Mahal and created from 30,000 tiles to construct two murals. A Cranbook graduate, Tobin created and studied the history of ceramic tiles, architectural tile, and mosaic installations.

Her work can also be found in courthouses, museums, universities, and private homes.

Sandra Jo Osip is another Michigan-born artist who combines nature and her industrial environment. As you enter the Fort/Cass station, there are two six-feet high bronze sculptures to the left. "Progressions II" reminds me of shells with a floral flair, and was added to the station in 1992.

From Sandra's website, "In this time of uncertainty I began to offer hopefulness with bright and uplifting themes. Since flowers represent a new beginning and celebrate beauty, love hope and healing I used their forms, shapes and colors for the start of this new experimental journey."

I hope to meet these talented artists one day!

[rullakebu]

Le Rubis (FFF/M, tickling, furs and feathers)

This story is actually accompanied by a drawing made by FurFeatherTickling on Deviantart.

--

“Will, come in here!” a raspy female voice called from a modern chic office.

Will took a deep breath and tidied his light brown messy hair before stepping through the glass door into the sleek, minimalist space. The office was a study in contrasts: sharp lines and cool tones softened by plush furnishings and warm lighting. Behind a large, glass-topped desk sat Elise, Will’s boss, her keen eyes scanning through a stack of documents.

“You wanted to see me, Elise?” Will asked, ready to do his duty as Elise’s personal assistant and blinking his hazel eyes.

Elise, her hair, a rich chestnut brown, was meticulously styled into a sleek bob that framed her angular face, accentuating her high cheekbones and piercing green eyes. Today, she wore a charcoal gray suit with a fitted blazer over a silk blouse, the subtle shimmer of the fabric catching the light whenever she moved. She closed her laptop with both of her hands, as though she had just finished something important.

“Open the window for me, darling,” Elise commanded gently, her eyebrows rising up in a requesting expression.

Will, with no hesitation, walked over to the huge window and opened it, letting in fresh air to the spacious office. The sounds of the city flooded the room as Will walked back over to the front of Elise’s desk.

Elise leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she inhaled deeply. "Thank you, Will. I needed that."

"Of course," Will replied, his curiosity piqued. "Is there something you need me to do?"

Elise's gaze sharpened as she looked at him. "Yes, there is. I have an important task for you tonight." she stated, winking her eye at him.

“Oh? What do you need me to do, Elise?” Will queried, brisk with enthusiasm for his boss.

This was the reason Elise had hired the 23-year-old young man. He had so much drive to do his job well. Will had been desperate for a job for some time and Elise had saved him. Will's ambition and dedication were qualities Elise valued highly, and she saw in him a raw potential that reminded her of her younger self. His enthusiasm and willingness to tackle any task, no matter how unusual or challenging, made him stand out in a sea of complacent employees. And there was no denying that Elise found the young assistant somewhat cute.

“Tell me…” Elise asked, squinting her eyes slightly and tapping her long white nails on the counter. “Do you know about Le Rubis?”

“Cannot say I do,” Will replied, shrugging his shoulders at the name. “What is that?”

“It is not a thing; it’s a place. A burlesque cabaret club, to be specific. It’s located in the core city center,” she clarified, matter of factly. “You know the red tile building next to the city theater? That’s the one.”

“A burlesque club? In this city? How come I haven’t heard of it?” Will pondered, scratching his head, puzzled.

Elise leaned forward, her expression both amused and serious. "Le Rubis is not your average club, Will. It's an exclusive, members-only venue. Only a select few even know it exists, and fewer still have the privilege of entering its doors."

Will's curiosity was piqued further. "What kind of people go there?"

Elise's eyes gleamed with a mixture of intrigue and caution. "Influential people. Artists, politicians, business moguls... It's a place where deals are made and secrets are kept. The performances are just one part of its allure."

“So, what do you need me to do there?” Will asked, trying to mask his excitement with professionalism.

Elise handed him a sleek black envelope embossed with a crimson wax seal. “This is your ticket in. You’ll be attending a special event tonight: 200th performance of the main show. But remember, discretion is paramount. What happens at Le Rubis stays at Le Rubis.”

“Understood!” Will proclaimed. “I will be as discreet as I can. I will not utter a word about what happens inside!”

“Good. But that’s not all, though, Will,” Elise stated, turning around to her right in her huge office chair. She leaned down and picked something up from the floor. She lifted it up and placed it on the table. It was a box. The box was made of polished mahogany, its deep brown hues catching the light in subtle reflections. The craftsmanship was evident in the fine details etched along its edges, suggesting it was more than just a container—it held significance.

“I happen to know the main performer, Scarlet Tempest. She’s a dear friend of mine. I’d like to give her and her dancers a small gift for their 200th performance. It’s a special event, after all,” Elise said, smiling to herself slyly and patting the box gently.

“So I give the box to Scarlet. You got it!” Will replied, picking up the sizable box from the counter, lifting it with both hands.

“Take my chauffeur. He’ll be outside waiting,” Elise informed, waving her hand to shoo Will away.

Will made his way through the ornate dark wooden door of the office. She let out a mischievous chuckle as she watched him leave and bit her lip. “He’ll have fun in there, I’m sure,” she thought to herself, walking over to the window and looking over at the vast metropolis.

Will walked through the hallways of the office space and made his way to the elevator at the end. He looked at the indicator on the top of the doorframe. “37,” it said. Will pressed the button, opening the door instantly. He saw as the down arrow lit up. He went inside and pressed the 1st floor button.

As the elevator descended, Will's mind raced with thoughts of what awaited him at Le Rubis. The place had a reputation that preceded it, a luxurious and exclusive club where the city's elite gathered. He clutched the black envelope and the box, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

When the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, he stepped into the grand lobby, its marble floors gleaming under the chandelier light. Outside, Elise's chauffeur was waiting, a tall man with a stern expression and a sleek black car parked at the curb.

“Good evening, sir,” the chauffeur greeted, opening the door for Will.

“Evening,” Will replied, sliding into the back seat with the box carefully balanced on his lap. “Do you know where Le Rubis is?”

“Pardon? Le what?” the chauffeur asked, not knowing what Will was talking about.

“Eh, just take me to the city theater,” Will dismissed, and fastened his seatbelt.

The car pulled away from the curb smoothly, and Will watched as the cityscape blurred past the tinted windows. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. Le Rubis was legendary, a place where the city's elite gathered in secrecy. It was said that its walls had witnessed history being made, deals brokered, and alliances formed.

They drove past the main square, filled with different advertisements. One advertisement caught Will’s eye. A huge billboard depicted a tan-looking man wearing a luxurious fur coat, gazing fiercely at the camera. Opposite him, a woman draped in an elegant fur stole exuded confidence and allure. The bottom of the billboard said something and Will looked closer. With bold letters it said, ‘Bianca Nyberg, furry perfection’.

Will smirked at the dramatic display as the car continued its journey. Soon, they arrived at the city theater, an imposing building with grand columns and an air of historical significance. It was not the building Will was looking for, though. There was a plain red tile building next to the lavish theater. It had no signs or ads.

“Thank you,” Will said as he stepped out of the vehicle.

He approached the unassuming building, its lack of signage adding to the air of mystery. Pushing open the heavy door, he found himself in a dimly lit foyer. A narrow staircase led downwards, the soft glow of wall sconces guiding his path. With each step, the muffled sounds of activity grew louder, a blend of distant conversations and soft music.

At the bottom of the staircase, Will emerged into a grand hall that contrasted starkly with the plain exterior. The space was opulent, with rich red drapery, golden accents, and crystal chandeliers casting a warm, inviting glow. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the buzz of elite guests mingling and enjoying the luxurious ambiance.

A tall muscular man in a suit was posted up at the bottom of the staircase. Before Will could advance any further, he was stopped by the man.

“Tickets, please,” he said calmly.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Will said, setting the box down.

He opened the envelope and gave the inspector his ticket. He glanced at it for a while and nodded.

“I have this box for Scarlet Tempest. It’s from a friend. I was instructed to bring it to her,” Will added.

“Is that so? You can leave it with the staff in the cloakroom. I’ll figure it out. For now enjoy the show and I’ll find you after,” the inspector instructed, pointing to the cloakroom.

Relieved, Will picked up the box and made his way to the cloakroom, a small but elegantly decorated space staffed by a few attendants. One of them, a young woman with a friendly smile, stepped forward to assist him.

“I need to leave this box for Scarlet Tempest,” Will explained. “It’s very important.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, taking the box from him with care. “We’ll ensure it reaches her safely.”

“Thank you,” Will said, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

With his task temporarily set aside, Will made his way into the main performance hall. The theater was breathtaking, a blend of old-world charm and modern luxury. The walls were adorned with rich, deep red velvet drapery, accented with intricate golden embroidery. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their light refracted into a warm, inviting glow that bathed the entire room in elegance.

The seats were plush and comfortable, upholstered in a matching red fabric with gold trim, arranged in a semi-circular pattern to ensure that every guest had an unobstructed view of the stage. The balconies above offered a more private viewing experience, each adorned with ornate railings and plush seating, adding to the sense of grandeur.

The stage itself was a marvel. It was expansive, with a polished wooden floor that gleamed under the stage lights. A deep red velvet curtain, heavy and opulent, hung closed, hiding the wonders that lay behind it. Above the stage, a proscenium arch was intricately carved with scenes of mythical creatures and gods, painted in gold leaf that shimmered under the lights.

As the house lights dimmed, a hush fell over the audience. The red curtain slowly parted, revealing a scene of enchanting beauty. The backdrop depicted an elegant, vintage Parisian cabaret, with ornate columns, a grand staircase, and twinkling fairy lights that seemed to create a magical ambiance.

The stage was set with various props that added to the allure—a grand piano to one side, draped with a shimmering fabric, and an array of beautifully designed chairs and tables, giving the impression of an intimate, exclusive club. Soft smoke wafted from the edges of the stage, adding a touch of mystique to the scene.

Will looked around at the audience, taking in the diverse crowd gathered for the evening's performance. The room was filled with the city’s elite—business magnates, influential politicians, renowned artists, and celebrities, all dressed in their finest attire. Men in tailored suits and women in elegant gowns whispered to each other in hushed tones, their conversations blending into a low hum of anticipation.

As the music began to play, its notes rich and evocative, the audience was transported to another time and place. The lighting shifted, casting dramatic shadows and highlights, enhancing the depth and allure of the stage. It was clear that every detail had been meticulously planned to create an unforgettable experience.

Will settled into his seat, feeling the anticipation build. The atmosphere was electric, and he knew he was about to witness something truly special. The magic of Le Rubis was about to unfold before his eyes, and he couldn't wait to see Scarlet Tempest take the stage.

As the first notes of music filled the grand hall, the stage lights illuminated Scarlet Tempest, who stood poised at the center, her fiery red hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of flames. She wore a dazzling, extravagant costume: a purple corset with a fluffy fox fur trim that accentuated her figure and added a touch of luxurious elegance. Feather boas trailed behind her like tails, flowing from the back of her corset with every movement, creating a dynamic and enchanting effect. Draped over her shoulders was a sumptuous large lavender fox fur stole with tails, adding to her regal and captivating appearance. She wore satin gloves with fur trim, completing her dazzling ensemble and enhancing her graceful movements.

The music started softly, a haunting melody played on a solo violin, setting a tone of elegance and mystery. Scarlet began to move, her steps precise and fluid, her body swaying gracefully to the rhythm. She extended her arms, fingers delicate, as if she were weaving a spell with her movements. The audience was entranced, their eyes following her every motion.

As the tempo of the music increased, so did the intensity of Scarlet's dance. She spun across the stage, her feather boas and fur stole trailing behind her in a mesmerizing display. Her movements were a seamless blend of classical ballet and contemporary dance, each step telling a story of passion and enchantment.

While Scarlet Tempest continued to captivate the audience with her solo performance, the music swelled, signaling the arrival of the backup dancers. The first one, Belle Stardust, was a blonde with wavy hair that cascaded just past her shoulders. The second dancer had black hair, Raven Noir, her forehead covered by a fringe with the tips of her hair curled. The tops of their heads were adorned with extravagant pink ostrich feather headdresses, adding a touch of flamboyance to their appearance.

The stage lights brightened, casting a vibrant glow as the dancers made their entrance. They moved with a synchronized grace, their outfits echoing Scarlet's but in a more understated yet equally stunning fashion. Their corsets were a delicate shade of pink, trimmed with soft fur that complemented the luxurious aesthetic of the performance.

The dancers' feather boas were massive, far larger than any Will had ever seen. These boas, draped dramatically over their shoulders, flowed and billowed with their movements, creating an almost ethereal effect. The ends of the boas were adorned with enormous feather tassels, each connected by ornate metal couplings that shimmered under the stage lights. These tassels added a dynamic element to the dancers' movements, swinging and twirling as they danced, enhancing the visual spectacle.

As they joined Scarlet on stage, the dancers formed a circle around her, their feather boas creating a mesmerizing swirl of pink feathers. The contrast between Scarlet’s lilac ensemble and the dancers’ softer pinks created a striking visual harmony, enhancing the overall enchantment of the performance.

The choreography was intricate and perfectly synchronized. The dancers moved in unison, their massive boas sweeping through the air in grand arcs. They spun and twirled, their feather tassels creating a dazzling display of motion and color. The interplay between the dancers and Scarlet was seamless, each movement designed to highlight the beauty and complexity of the others.

One particularly captivating moment involved Scarlet being lifted high into the air by her fellow dancers, her body arched gracefully as if she were flying. The audience gasped in awe, the seamless blend of strength and elegance creating a powerful visual impact. As she descended, the music softened once more, transitioning into a delicate, lyrical section.

Scarlet and her dancers moved through the softer music with a gentle fluidity, their motions almost ethereal. The use of props, such as feathered fans, added layers of texture to the performance, creating a dreamlike quality. The interplay of light and shadow, combined with the dancers' graceful movements, painted a vivid picture of romance and fantasy.

As the final notes of the music echoed through the hall, Scarlet struck a final pose, her arms raised triumphantly. The stage lights dimmed, casting her in a soft, golden glow. For a moment, there was complete silence as the audience absorbed the beauty and power of the performance.

Then, the hall erupted in applause, the audience rising to their feet in a standing ovation. Scarlet and her dancers bowed deeply, their faces beaming with pride and exhilaration. Will found himself applauding with fervor, the magic of the dance leaving an indelible impression on him. He understood now why Le Rubis was so legendary—this was more than a performance; it was an experience that touched the soul and lingered in the memory.

After the performance, Will made his way back through the grand hall, still buzzing with excitement and admiration for what he had just witnessed. He navigated through the crowd of elated audience members, their conversations and praises filling the air. His destination was the cloakroom, where he needed to retrieve the box for Scarlet Tempest.

Reaching the cloakroom, he approached the counter where the friendly attendant from earlier stood, now assisting other guests with their belongings. When she noticed Will, she smiled and stepped forward to help him.

“Hello again,” she greeted warmly. “How did you enjoy the show?”

“It was incredible,” Will replied, still awestruck. “Absolutely unforgettable. But I need to retrieve the box I left here for Scarlet Tempest.”

“Of course, sir,” the attendant said, turning to the shelves behind her. She scanned the neatly organized packages and personal items before locating the box Will had brought. Carefully, she lifted it and placed it on the counter in front of him.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Will turned around to find the inspector standing behind him, his expression neutral yet somehow conveying a sense of anticipation.

“Scarlet Tempest and her dancers are expecting you,” the inspector announced, his voice calm yet carrying an air of authority.

Will's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected summons. He hadn't anticipated being personally invited to meet Scarlet Tempest and her troupe. This was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

“Thank you,” Will replied, his excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “I’ll follow you.”

With a nod, the inspector led the way through the labyrinthine corridors of Le Rubis, his confident strides indicating a familiarity with the venue that Will found reassuring. As they walked, Will's mind raced with questions and anticipation, wondering what awaited him in the presence of the legendary Scarlet Tempest and her dancers.

Soon, they arrived at a door marked with a star, the name "Scarlet Tempest" emblazoned in elegant script. The inspector knocked gently before opening the door, revealing a lavishly appointed dressing room beyond.

“Ms. Tempest, Mr. Will is here,” the inspector announced, stepping aside to allow Will to enter.

As Will stepped into the dressing room, he was greeted by a scene straight out of a glamorous movie set. Mirrors lined the walls, framed by rows of bright lightbulbs that cast a soft, flattering glow over the room. Clothing racks filled with an array of fur and feather garments stood nearby, their luxurious textures catching the light and adding to the ambiance of opulence.

Standing amidst this dazzling display were the dancers of Le Rubis, their vibrant personalities evident in their lively chatter and animated movements. They were a vision of elegance and allure, each one adorned in exquisite costumes that shimmered and swayed with every step.

"Ah, you must be Will," one of the dancers exclaimed, her voice warm and welcoming as she approached him. "We're thrilled to have you here."

Will nodded, feeling a sense of excitement building within him as he took in the energy of the room. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you," he replied, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

“I was informed you would be delivering a gift?” Scarlet inquired, her curiosity piqued.

“Yes, ma’am,” Will answered, stepping forward and presenting the box he had carried with him. “A token of congratulations on your 200th performance, from Elise.”

Scarlet accepted the gift with a smile, her fingers delicately tracing the contours of the box. “Aww, how thoughtful of Elise,” she remarked, her appreciation evident in her tone. “And thank you, Will. Your presence here tonight is a gift in itself.”

As Scarlet opened the box and lifted out a note, a mischievous gleam danced in her eyes. She read the contents quietly, her smile growing wider with each passing moment. Then, without a word, she glanced at the inspector, a silent understanding passing between them.

Glancing up at the inspector, who stood nearby with an air of professionalism, Scarlet made a subtle gesture, mimicking the motion of locking a door using a key with her hands. The inspector, catching her meaning, nodded in understanding before swiftly exiting the room.

With a decisive click, the door was securely locked, ensuring their privacy within the confines of the dressing room. Scarlet turned her attention back to the note, her curiosity piqued by its contents.

As Scarlet read the note aloud, her voice filled with playful intrigue, a mischievous smile spread across her lips. Belle and Raven gathered around her leaned in, their eyes alight with curiosity as they absorbed the message.

"'Congratulations on the 200th performance of your show! To mark this special occasion, I’ve sent you a gift that promises endless fun. Inside, you’ll find an assortment of tickling tools. And as an added treat, meet Will, your ticklish victim for the evening. Knowing how much you and I both love tickle torture, I thought this would be the perfect way to celebrate. Enjoy! Love, Elise.'" Scarlet recited, her tone tinged with mischief.

A moment of silence hung in the air as the dancers processed the unexpected message. Then, as one, their gazes shifted towards Will, who stood nearby, his expression a mix of surprise and bemusement.

“W-w-what?” Will's voice faltered as all eyes turned towards him, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being the sudden center of attention. He shifted nervously, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected revelation.

Scarlet's mischievous smile widened as she observed his reaction, a playful twinkle dancing in her eyes. "It seems your presence really was a gift," she remarked, her tone teasing and ominous.

The other dancers exchanged knowing glances, their lips quirking into amused smiles as they contemplated the implications of the note. Will felt a knot of apprehension form in his stomach as he realized he was the subject of their curiosity.

"Shall we put him to the test, girls?" Scarlet asked, her voice laced with teasing anticipation.

With a collective giggle, the dancers closed in around Will, their playful energy contagious as they prepared to indulge in the unexpected twist of fate. Will could feel his heart racing with a mix of fear and anxiety, unsure of what lay ahead but willing to embrace the adventure.

Will instinctively turned towards the door, his hand reaching out to grasp the handle. However, as he tried to open it, he realized with a sinking feeling that it was locked tight. A sense of unease washed over him as he rattled the doorknob, hoping in vain that it would budge. But no matter how hard he tried, the door remained firmly shut, sealing him inside the dressing room with Scarlet and her dancers.

Scarlet's playful smirk only widened at his discovery, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Looks like you're stuck with us for a while, Will," she teased, her tone ripe with mischief.

As the dancers closed in around him, their playful energy turning more mischievous, Will's heart raced with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Before he could react, their hands were on him, gently but firmly guiding him to the ground.

With a collective giggle, they began to forcefully remove his clothing, their movements deft and quick. Will squirmed under their touch, a blush creeping across his cheeks as he found himself the center of their attention.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Will protested, trying to fight the dancers off.

First came off his shirt, being thrown forcefully to the other side of the room. Secondly Belle sat on top of his legs and removed his shoes and socks. He tried to sit up but he was pinned to the floor once again by Raven. Will felt the cool air hit his bare feet as the socks were swiftly discarded. Finally, with a mischievous grin, the dancers turned their attention to his pants, their hands moving swiftly to undo the buttons and zippers. Leaving him clad only in his underwear, the dancers both creeped their fingers under the elastic and pulled them down, revealing his manhood to their tickle hungry gazes.

Will turned tomato red, as they stared at his cock. The dancers grabbed his hands and lifted him up. Desperately, Will tried to buck and squirm his way out of their grasp, his muscles straining with exertion as he fought against their playful advances. But despite his efforts, he found himself powerless to escape their determined hold.

With a sense of inevitability, Will was dragged towards a nearby table, his body laid out upon it with gentle yet insistent force. As he lay there, exposed and vulnerable, he couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited whatever ticklish antics the dancers had in store for him.

Will tried to wiggle away from the table, alas he was being held by his ankles and wrists against it. Scarlet giggled to herself as she strolled over to the coat rack, her massive lavender fur stole swaying from side to side along her steps, and fetching 4 fluffy feather boas. "These should do nicely," she purred, letting the soft feathers trail through her fingers.

With a nod from Scarlet, the dancers began their work. Will felt the gentle caress of the feathers against his skin as they used the boas to tie his wrists and ankles to the table legs. The feathers were soft, teasing him with what was to come. His wrists were bound first, the fabric snug but not painful, and then his ankles, leaving him spread out and completely vulnerable.

"Comfortable?" Scarlet teased, leaning over him with a grin that promised mischief. Will’s lips trembled in response, unable to respond to the red haired beauty.

"Now, let's see what lovely Elise has provided for us, shall we?" Scarlet purred, her fingers delicately tracing the edge of the box. With a flick of her wrist, lifted the lid, revealing the contents within.

The dancers purred in delight as Scarlet lifted the lid, revealing an array of tantalizing tickling tools nestled within plush velvet lining. Feathers of every color, massive feather dusters and other ticklish contraptions lay waiting, each promising to elicit the most helpless laughter from their captive guest.

Scarlet's fingers danced over the contents of the box until she found the perfect instrument for tickling: a luxuriously soft, oversized powder puff. Its fluffy texture promised to elicit delightful sensations as it traveled across Will's skin.

Belle, with a playful twirl, selected a large feather fan adorned with golden accents, its delicate feathers shimmering in the dim light of the room. She admired it with a satisfied smile, the anticipation of the evening's festivities evident in her sparkling eyes.

Meanwhile, Raven's slender fingers delicately plucked out two massive ostrich feathers from the box, their long, wispy plumes dancing in the air as she examined them with a delighted smile. She twirled them between her fingers, testing their weight and flexibility, eager to unleash their ticklish potential upon Will's helpless form.

"Who's ready to make our dear Will laugh?" she teased, her voice laced with anticipation. The dancers chuckled in response, their fingers itching to unleash the ticklish torment that awaited their captive guest.

As the devious dancers settled around Will, anticipation crackled in the air like static before a storm. Scarlet stood above him, wielding the luxuriously soft powder puff, her fingers tingling with excitement as she prepared to torment his upper body. Raven positioned herself at his side, her ostrich feathers poised to dance along his midsection, while Belle took her place at his feet, her golden-accented fan ready to send him into fits of laughter.

With a shared glance and a silent understanding, the dancers prepared to unleash their ticklish assault upon poor Will. In unison, their tickly tools descended upon him, each movement calculated to elicit the most delightful reactions.

Will’s giggles were instantaneous as he felt thousands of fluffy fibers caressing his vulnerable skin. Belle’s feather fan flicked and fluttered under his ticklish toes, up and down his soles and around his arches, as her left hand skittered along his left foot. Raven’s feathers hovered slowly over to his sides as their long strands began to trail along his anticipating flesh on each side. Scarlet's powder puff swirled and danced across his arms, leaving a trail of ticklish delight in its wake as she spidered inside and around his armpits with her left hand’s fingers.

Will’s body twitched as his nerves were overwhelmed by ticklish tingles. Every feather, every soft touch seemed to ignite a cascade of laughter and sensation, sending waves of delightful torment coursing through his veins. His muscles tensed and relaxed in rapid succession, unable to resist the ticklish assault on his senses.

“Tickle tickle tickle,” Raven teased as she stared Will directly in his eyes with a hunter’s gaze, leaning over and dragging her feathers all the way from his shoulders to his waist in a long, slow and ticklish trail, making sure Will experienced the full tickle of both feathers thoroughly.

“That’s right, Will. Tickle tickle tickle,” Scarlet chimed in, whispering closely in his ear as she spidered her fingers on his neck, making him scrunch it. She brushed her powder puff very slowly along Will’s extremely sensitive underarms. From his wrist, to his elbow crevice and elbow and back up the other arm.

Will bucked and thrashed in his restraints. Although light, the boas held him firmly in place and prevented him from moving too much. Even his fluffy binds were tickle tools in and of themselves. Wriggling and squirming caused the soft feathers of the boas to caress and tickle his wrists and ankles as he moved.

"Does it tickle?" Belle asked out teasingly, her voice a melodic echo in the room as she leaned over his feet with the grace of a dancer. With delicate precision, she traced the edges of his soles with the soft feathers of her fan, eliciting bursts of laughter with every playful stroke.

Will's laughter erupted in a crescendo of uncontrollable mirth, his voice rising above the playful taunts and teasing of his captors. "SHAHAHAHAHAT UP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" he cried out, his words punctuated by fits of laughter that shook his entire body.

"Girls, I think the tickle talk and teasing are getting to our ticklish guest here," Scarlet claimed with a playful smirk, her voice filled with mock concern as she glanced down at Will, who was still caught in the throes of laughter. "But don't worry, Will," she added with a wink, "we're just getting started."

Knowing his tickle torment was far from over, Will banged his head against the table, his mouth wide open letting ticklish laughter loose and echoing throughout the room.Each thud against the polished wood seemed to punctuate his helpless giggles, a rhythmic accompaniment to the playful symphony of ticklish delight that surrounded him.

Scarlet took her left hand and gently pressed Will’s head back against the table. “Now, now. We don’t want you hurting yourself, ticklish Will,” she said, her voice soft as she leaned in closer. With a playful twirl of her wrist, she took her powder puff and began to tease his ears and face with it, the soft, fluffy bristles eliciting fresh peals of laughter from him. The ticklish sensations danced across his skin, sending shivers of delight down his spine as he squirmed beneath her gentle touch.

Belle closed her feather fan for a more concentrated point of fluff. She switched feet and trailed the precise point ticklishness under Will’s left toes, eliciting high pitched squeals from the ticklish gift giver. “Only we decide what sensations you feel. No pain, only tickles,” Belle dictated, her voice firm yet playful as she asserted their control over the ticklish torment. Will could do nothing but laugh helplessly, his senses overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught of ticklish delight.

As Will’s face was being teased with the powder puff, Raven set her feathers aside for a moment. With a purposeful stride, she walked over to the box and picked up a blue motorized duster, her monstrous ostrich feather boa and tails swinging with each step. Its sleek design and gentle hum promised to deliver a new level of ticklish sensation to their captive guest.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Raven returned to Will's side, the motorized duster held firmly in her grasp. She paused for a moment, savoring the anticipation that hung in the air, before activating the device with a soft click.

The duster sprang to life, its bristles vibrating with energy as Raven brought it closer to Will's exposed skin. Will couldn’t really see it properly, with the puff blocking his vision. All he saw was flashes of blue and heard a soft whirring noise. With a playful smirk, Raven began to trace delicate patterns along his belly and chest, the gentle buzz of the duster sending shivers of ticklishness coursing through his nerves.

Will's cheeks began to redden, the strain of the intense, non-stop laughter starting to take its toll. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAHAHAHAHAHAT IS THAHAHAHAHAHAT? STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!" he pleaded between fits of laughter, his voice hoarse from the relentless giggles and unable to see Raven.

Raven, her voice playful and teasing, leaned in close to him. "Oh, darling, that's just a little something to keep the fun going," she replied, her words punctuated by a mischievous giggle. "It's a motorized duster. Isn't it so lovely and ticklish?"

“PUT IT AWAY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Will exclaimed, his laughter reaching new heights of intensity as he begged for mercy from the relentless tickling.

With a mischievous grin, Raven playfully continued to wield the motorized duster, its gentle vibrations sending fresh waves of ticklish delight coursing through Will's already sensitized body. Despite his protests, the ticklish torment showed no signs of abating, much to the amusement of Scarlet, Belle and Raven.

With a gleam of mischief in her eyes, Belle opened up her fan once again, its feathers shimmering in the soft light of the room. She directed her attention to Will's exposed legs, her delicate touch sending shivers down his spine. With precise movements, Belle began to trail the feathers of her fan along the sensitive skin of Will's legs, eliciting fresh peals of laughter from him. Each gentle stroke sent ticklish tingles through his legs upwards. The tingles flowed past his crotch, making his manhood twitch slightly.

The combined sensations of Belle's feather fan and Raven's motorized duster created a whirlwind of ticklish torment, overwhelming Will's senses and leaving him breathless with laughter. Despite his protests and pleas for mercy, there was no escaping the playful assault on his ticklish senses.

“Elise should send us ticklish boys like you more often,” Belle said, trailing the fan in Will’s inner thighs. Will's laughter bubbled uncontrollably as Belle's teasing touch sent ticklish sensations racing through his inner thighs. He squirmed helplessly against his restraints, unable to escape the playful assault on his sensitive skin. His cock slowly grew in size, fueled by the cool breezes of air and ticklish teasing of the fan in his thighs.

Scarlet and Raven exchanged amused glances, their laughter mingling with Belle's playful taunts. With mischievous grins, they continued to tickle and tease poor Will, their fluffy tickle tools driving him to new heights of ticklish delight.

As Raven took notice of Will's growing erection, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes. With a teasing smirk, she moved the spinning duster over Will’s balls, causing him to buck and jolt in response to the unexpected sensation.

“You beg so much, yet you seem to be really liking us tickling you, Will,” Raven teased, her voice a playful taunt as she observed his reactions with amusement. Will's cheeks flushed even deeper with embarrassment, his laughter mixing with a hint of nervous excitement at the intimate ticklish touch.

Despite his attempts to protest or plead for mercy, there was no denying the undeniable arousal that coursed through him as the ticklish torment continued. In this moment of playful abandon, surrounded by laughter and teasing, Will couldn't help but surrender to the hellish blend of ticklish pleasure and desire that enveloped him.

"Tickling turns you on…" Scarlet whispered with a knowing smile, her voice laced with a sultry teasing tone as she observed Will's flushed cheeks and heightened arousal. "You like having fluffy feathers caress and explore your ticklish body. You love the tingle… the tickle…the tease.”

Will's cheeks burned even hotter at Scarlet's bold words, his body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Each ticklish sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, heightening his arousal with every gentle touch.

With a playful grin, Scarlet leaned in closer to him, her voice a sultry whisper in his ear. "Do you like when we whisper ticklish nothings in your ear?" she teased, her breath warm against his skin as she awaited his response.

Will couldn’t answer. He was too busy cackling and bucking against the ticklish torment ministered by Raven’s spinning duster and Belle’s dreaded fan. He couldn’t deny the fact, however, that the teasing and tickling was making him incredibly aroused and charged with ticklish ecstacy.

Throwing the powder puff away with a playful flick of her wrist, Scarlet beckoned Raven closer. With a shared glance and a mischievous grin, Raven discarded the duster, its gentle hum fading into the background as they focused their attention solely on Will.

Taking hold of her huge fur stole, Scarlet began stroking it delicately along Will’s sides and ribs. The soft, luxurious fur trailed lightly over his sensitive skin, eliciting shivers of ticklish pleasure from him. With each gentle stroke, Scarlet teased and tantalized, her touch sending waves of delightful sensation coursing through his body.

Mimicking the movements of Scarlet, Raven adjusted and took hold of her giant boa, setting it on her shoulders. With a playful grin, she trailed the soft feathers along Will’s sides and ribs, mirroring Scarlet's teasing gestures with a mischievous flair of her own. The mixture of the feathers of the giant boa and the soft fur of the stole trailed lightly over Will’s sensitive skin, eliciting the message of “tickle” racing through his nerves.

Leaning in close, Scarlet and Raven whispered ticklish teases in Will's ear, their words a sultry symphony of mischief and desire. Each whispered promise sent shivers of anticipation coursing through him, heightening his arousal with every tantalizing word. Taking turns they, they whispered:

“Surrender to the tickle.” Raven purred, her voice dripping with playful seduction as she watched Will squirm beneath her touch.

“Do you like my fur stole teasing you?” Scarlet whispered, her breath warm against Will's ear as she trailed the soft fur along his skin.

“Does my boa tickle you?” Raven teased, her voice a sultry whisper as she mirrored Scarlet's gestures, her feathers dancing lightly over Will's sensitized flesh.

“Tickle tickle tickle…” Scarlet tickle talked, her words a playful taunt as she continued to stroke the fur stole along his sides and ribs.

"Oh God it tickles…" Raven tantalized, her voice a sultry whisper as she watched Will squirm beneath her touch. With a playful grin, she continued to trail the feathers of her boa on him.

"You love being tickled..." Scarlet whispered with a knowing smile, her voice a sultry tease as she watched Will's reactions with amusement.

"Bound and vulnerable to our ticklish touch…" Raven murmured, as she watched Will squirm helplessly against his restraints. Her words sent shivers of anticipation coursing through him, heightening his arousal with every tantalizing syllable.

Will's perception of reality could be described with one word: tickle. Every sensation, every thought, every moment was colored by the delightful, tantalizing, and overwhelming experience of ticklish torture. From the soft caress of feathers to the teasing whispers of his captors, tickle was not just a sensation but a vibrant, all-encompassing world in which he found himself completely immersed.

Raven rose from her position and walked over to the box, her movements graceful and purposeful as she retrieved something from within. Meanwhile, Scarlet remained leaning over, her breath warm against Will's ear as she blew gently, sending tingles racing down his spine.

As Raven reached the box, her fingers danced eagerly over its contents as she searched for the next ticklish tool to add to their playful arsenal. With a satisfied smile, she selected a sizable ostrich feather duster, its soft brown feathers sure to tease Will to insanity.

Walking over back to Will, her next tickle target was obvious. Will’s cock twitched and throbbed, practically begging for her ticklish attention. With a mischievous smile, she slowly reached over with the duster, wiggling it as she inched closer and closer to him, teasing Will with the swaying feathers that promised a maddening tickle.

Belle tossed her fan aside, the delicate feathers dancing through the air before settling on the ground. Her mischievous grin widened as she locked eyes with Will, her gaze filled with playful intent. Slowly, she began to stroke her own feather boa up and down in a tantalizing rhythm, the soft feathers yielding lightly to her fingers. Each stroke sent shivers of anticipation coursing through Will as he watched her with bated breath, his heart racing with excitement at the promise of more ticklishness to come.

Scarlet resumed her position above Will's head, her presence casting a playful shadow over him as she prepared to join in the ticklish fun. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned in closer, her fingers tingling with anticipation as she plotted her next move. Not opting for any tool, Scarlet wiggled her fingers in Will's sight, the gesture a clear indication of the ticklish torment that awaited him, slowly lowering them towards his armpits.

With the tickling momentarily ceasing, Will took a deep breath, relief washing over him as he savored the brief respite. However, his moment of reprieve was short-lived, for he could sense the impending return of the tickles, like a storm gathering on the horizon.

With Scarlet's spidering fingers meeting Will’s open armpits, his desperate laughter erupted once more, echoing off the walls of the backstage. Her gloved fingers slid on his skin, smooth as butter, as the satin glided effortlessly over his sensitive flesh. Will thrashed his head from side to side as the tickle attack commenced anew.

Belle leaned over with a playful glint in her eye, her fingers wrapping around her boa as she prepared to join in the ticklish fun. With a teasing grin, she brought the soft feathers of the boa down to Will's right foot, running it between his toes. Licking her lips, she trailed the boa ever so slowly, watching with delight as Will's toes curled and squirmed in response to the ticklish sensation. Not wishing to leave his left foot jealous, she began to tickle his lonely sole with her other hand.

Will watched with ticklish horror as the duster approached his throbbing manhood, his eyes widening with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The playful swaying of the feathers teased his visual senses as he braced himself for the impending ticklish torment.

He felt the tips of the feathers pre-tickling his cock, a tantalizing sensation that sent shivers of ticklish fire conquering his pelvis region. Will couldn't help but squirm slightly in response, his body reacting instinctively to the teasing touch of the feathers.

Will felt wiggling feathers slowly taking over his throbbing sex, the ticklish sensation intensifying with each passing moment. As the feathers continued to dance and tease, he soon found himself completely engulfed in an overwhelming cloud of ticklish teases.

His breath came in short gasps as the feathers tickled every inch of his sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. Despite his attempts to hold back, Will couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably, the ticklish sensation overwhelming his senses.

In this moment of ticklish ecstasy, Will surrendered himself completely to the intoxicating blend of pleasure and arousal. His laughter mixing with intense moans as he felt the duster twirling and brushing his jolting, ticklish penis. Belle made sure to run her colossal boa between each of Will’s toes as she skittered her fingers on his soles, up and down his arches and along his insteps. Her boa was like a ticklish snake, slithering and teasing his senses with its soft, feathery touch.

Scarlet continued to tickle Will's armpits with determination, her fingers spidering and exploiting his ticklish armpits as she relished in the delightful sounds of his laughter and moans. With a playful smirk playing on her lips, she couldn't help but tickle talk to him once more, her voice filled with amusement and mischief.

“It tickles, doesn’t it, Will? Me having fun with your armpits? Belle’s boa sliding between your toes? And the ever so soft feather duster fluttering on your helpless cock? You love it. You love it when we tickle you. You love the intense tingling feeling all over. You love laughing and feeling helpless when soft feathers and wiggling fingers expose your weaknesses,” Scarlet flirted, her voice laced with seductive teasing.

Will's laughter filled the air, mingling with desperate pleas as the ticklish sensations overwhelmed him. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA OOOOOH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IT TICKLES SO BAD! IT'S TOO MUCH!" he cried out, his voice filled with a mixture of laughter and desperation.

Scarlet chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she leaned over Will, her ample cleavage blocking his vision. The soft fur trim of her outfit tickled his nose as she adjusted her stole, covering his sides entirely. With a playful smirk, she reached over and began to tickle his ribs and stomach, her fingers dancing lightly over his sensitive skin.

As Will wiggled in response to her ticklish assault, the fur stole brushed against his sides, sending shivers of pleasure through him. The fur trim of her gloves also brushed against his skin. The sensation was tantalizing, adding an extra layer of sensation to the already overwhelming experience.

Raven smiled to herself when she saw Scarlet blocking his vision. Looking over at Belle, she observed her skillfully running the boa between his toes and brushing the soles of his feet with the tassels, eliciting delightful squirms and giggles from Will. As she watched, an idea began to form in Raven's mischievous mind.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Raven adjusted her boa, draping it across her shoulders like a stole. With careful precision, she took hold of one of the tassels and began to brush it lightly against Will’s balls, her touch feather-light and teasing.

Not being able to see, Will was caught by surprise as the sensation of the tassel brushing against his balls sent a jolt of ticklish delight through him. It felt like Raven had brandished a second duster, the soft feathers teasing and tantalizing his sensitive skin with each gentle stroke.

Will was overwhelmed by fluff, surrounded on all sides by feathers, fur, and ticklish sensations. Scarlet leaned over him, her presence blocking his vision as the soft fur of her stole teased his face. He squirmed beneath her touch, his sides tickled by the gentle brush of the stole.

Meanwhile, the duster and tassel continued to flutter and brush against his aching manhood, sending waves of ticklish pleasure coursing through him. His moans and laughter mingled with gasps of delight as he surrendered to the intoxicating blend of pleasure and arousal.

At the same time, Belle's boa teased his poor vulnerable feet, the soft tassels brushing against his soles and sending shivers of ticklish delight up his spine. His laughter echoed off the walls as he had no choice but to surrender himself to the chaos of tickling, his body quivering with blissful agony.

Will's cock began dripping precum, the stimulation proving too much for him to handle. The soft feathers of the duster became slightly damp as his arousal grew, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he was experiencing. Raven glanced at the damp feathers and with a smirk, she tossed the duster aside.

She drew her boa away and walked over to the box once more. Before she could pick another tool, Belle hollered, her voice filled with excitement as she continued to torment poor Will with her feather boa. "Wait, Raven! Can we switch?" she exclaimed, her eyes alight with mischief as she gestured eagerly toward the box.

Raven's glanced over at Belle. "You want me to get his feet?" she asked, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. Her fingers tingled with excitement at the thought of joining in on the delightful ticklish fun.

"Yes, I want a turn on his cock," Belle declared with a playful smirk.

"Alright," Raven agreed, as she walked over to Will's feet and knelt down beside him. With deliberate care, she removed her gloves, revealing her hands and the sharp, teasing nails that lay beneath.

As she flexed her fingers, a mischievous gleam in Raven's eyes. With a playful smirk, she reached out toward Will's vulnerable feet, her nails poised to deliver a bouquet of ticklish sensations all over.

With care, Raven's nails danced lightly over the sensitive skin of Will's feet, her nails teasing and tantalizing as they trailed along his arches and ticklish spots. Each stroke sent waves of delightful tingles coursing through him, his laughter filling the room as he squirmed beneath her touch.

Belle's eyes scanned the contents of the box before her, her gaze flickering from one item to the next. Her fingers danced lightly over the assortment of ticklish tools until they landed on something that caught her attention. With a delighted grin, she reached out and picked up a pair of fluffy fur mittens, her excitement evident.

With a playful twirl, Belle slipped the mittens onto her hands, reveling in the softness of the fur against her skin as she tested them on her shoulders and legs. The fluffy mittens promised to deliver a fuzzy addition of ticklish fun as she joined in on the torment of poor Will.

Biting her lip, she stared at Will’s needy sex. Gently, she wrapped one of the soft gloves around him, the hairs brushing against his sensitive flesh gently, and began to stroke. It felt lovely in the midst of Raven teasing his feet and Scarlet ravaging his upper body. With her other hand, Belle began stroking and caressing his thighs, the fur teasing the sensitive skin, near his erogenous zone, further heightening his arousal and adding to the sensations that consumed him.

Will's entire body was on fire with tickly sensations, every nerve ending tingling as he squirmed and writhed beneath the teasing touch of Scarlet, Belle and Raven. From the tips of his toes to the crown of his head, he was consumed by a fiery inferno of ticklish ecstasy. Charged with arousal, he was ready to burst in a violent ticklegasm.

Will’s mind was consumed by a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. Confusion and regret mingled within him, casting a shadow over the overwhelming torture he was experiencing. He couldn't shake the realization that he had been sent to Le Rubis under false pretenses. Not to celebrate, but to be tickle tortured by the dancers at Elise's behest.

As Will's body continued to convulse with ticklish pleasure, his sense of time slipped away, lost in the swirling chaos of sensations that engulfed him. Will found himself adrift in a timeless void, his senses overwhelmed by the tickling of feathered burlesque demons. Surrounded by laughter and desire, he lost all track of how long he had been subjected to the teasing touch of the dancers at Le Rubis, his only focus the relentless pleasure that coursed through his body.

Scarlet straightened up, her demeanor softened slightly as she eased up on her leaning position. “Let go, Will. Stop trying to make sense of it all. Let us tickle you. Let it consume you. Embrace teasing of our furs and feathers. It feels so good, doesn’t it? Your sole purpose is to be tickled, sweetheart. Lose yourself in laughter and pleasure, dear,” Scarlet whispered in his ear, her words a gentle invitation for Will to surrender to the joy of ticklish bliss.

As Scarlet's whispered words washed over him, Will felt a wave of relaxation flood through his body. With a soft sigh, he let go of his resistance, allowing himself to be swept away by the tide of tickling that surrounded him. The weight of his worries and doubts melted away, replaced by a sense of lightness and freedom.

As he surrendered to the sensations, Will's body relaxed completely, his muscles loosening as he allowed himself to be consumed by laughter and pleasure. With each ticklish stroke and caress, he felt himself drifting further and further into a state of blissful abandon, his mind emptying of all thoughts except for the delightful sensations that danced across his skin.

His eyes rolled back in ticklish euphoria. Every fiber of his being was just bursting with tickling… tickling… tickling… He was lost in a sea of laughter, his mind a haze of pleasure as he surrendered completely to the delightful torture.

The gentle yet maddening strokes of Scarlet's fingers on his armpits, the teasing stroking of Belle's fur mittens on his manhood and thighs and the relentless skittering of Raven’s pointy nails on his abused feet all blended into a symphony of ticklish ecstasy. Will's body didn’t even twist, not moving a muscle, not fighting back. He accepted his fate. He let it tickle.

Will’s cock quivered in Belle’s fluffy, furry grip, the soft texture of the fur creating a maddeningly gentle friction that emitted signals of pleasure to his tickle conquered brain. Each stroke of the fur mitten against his sensitive flesh heightened the arousal, blending the sensations of and laughter into an overwhelming crescendo.

Sensing Will was close, Belle turned to Scarlet and nodded. Scarlet, catching the signal, looked over to Raven and gave her a nod as well, signaling their final plan. Every dancer slowly but surely ceased their tickling, leaving Will panting in his fluffy binds.

Scarlet chuckled as she lifted the fur stole off her shoulders and placed it on Will’s shoulders, gently grabbing it and teasing his cheek before walking away. Raven and Belle changed positions and kneeled down next to Will’s ears, each preparing to deliver the final whispers of teasing. Scarlet walked over to the coat rack that stood nearby, her movements fluid and graceful.

She reached for a massive feather boa, even more gigantic than those of Belle and Raven. Similar in its design, luxurious purple feathers shimmered under the soft light, exuding an air of decadence. The tassels were connected by ornate golden ring bangles, twice the size of the others. With a confident smile, Scarlet draped the magnificent boa over her shoulders, the feathers cascading down and enveloping her in a vibrant, ticklish cloud.

Turning back to Will, she strutted over, the boa's feathers swaying with each step, adding an air of playful menace to her approach. The soft rustling of the feathers seemed to echo in the room, a promise of the tickling that awaited him. Will's eyes widened in a mixture of dread and exhilaration as Scarlet's seductive figure loomed closer, her gaze locked onto his with a predatory gleam.

"Now for the grand finale. Just a little more, Will. Let yourself sink into the feathers, into the tickles. You’ve been such a good sport. Enjoy this final moment of ticklish bliss,” Scarlet whispered, her voice both soothing and teasing.

With that, Scarlet lifted the giant purple boa off her shoulders and leaned over his crotch. As she positioned the boa above him, the anticipation in the room heightened, everyone aware that the climax of their ticklish torment was near. Raven and Belle took hold of their tassels and started brushing them against both of Will’s red cheeks.

Raven and Belle leaned closer, their tassels caressing gently. “Feel the tickles, Will,” Raven whispered in his ear, her breath warm and teasing. “Every feather, every touch,” Belle added, her voice a sultry purr.

“Tickle…” they whispered.

Scarlet wrapped the boa on Will’s cock and began to pump slowly. The feathers brushed against his sensitive flesh, their softness a stark contrast to the intense sensations that had bombarded him all night. Each stroke of the boa was deliberate, teasing, and maddeningly light, driving Will to the brink of ecstasy.

“Tickle…”

Stroke…

“Tickle…”

Stroke…

“Tickle…”

Stroke…

Will's breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale interspersed with moans of pleasure. His senses were overwhelmed by the gentle caresses of the tassels on his cheeks and the exquisite ticklish torment of the boa. He felt himself teetering on the edge of release, the relentless teasing pushing him closer and closer.

Scarlet's hands moved with practiced gentleness, her eyes locked on Will's face, savoring every expression of pleasure and desperation. Raven and Belle continued their whispering, their voices a seductive chorus that heightened the intensity of the moment.

“Tickle… let it take over…”

“Tickle… let go, Will…”

“Tickle… surrender to the pleasure…”

With each whisper, each stroke, the tension within Will built to an unbearable height. The soft feathers of the boa, the teasing tassels, and the sultry whispers all combined to create a symphony of sensation that drove him insane.

And then, with one final, deliberate stroke, Scarlet brought him to the peak of ecstasy. Will's body convulsed as he was overwhelmed by a powerful, shuddering release. His moans and giggles mingled in a symphony of pure, unrestrained pleasure as he surrendered completely to the ticklish torment and the exquisite relief that followed.

Tears formed in his eyes as he twitched on the table, his body and nerves overwhelmed by the most blissful ticklegasm. Every fiber of his being seemed to hum with the aftershocks of intense pleasure, the remnants of laughter still bubbling up uncontrollably from deep within him. The sensations lingered, the soft feathers and teasing touches leaving ghostly trails of ticklish delight across his skin.

Will's vision blurred as the tears of release streamed down his cheeks, his chest heaving with the effort of catching his breath. He lay there, utterly spent and trembling, his mind unable to process the sheer intensity of what he had just experienced. The women around him watched with satisfied smiles, their playful eyes gleaming with the knowledge that they had pushed him to his absolute limit and beyond.

Scarlet gently stroked his hair, her fingers brushing away the sweat and tears from his forehead. "You did so well, Will," she murmured softly, her voice filled with a mix of pride and tenderness. "You let go completely, just as we wanted. And you loved every second of it, didn’t you?"

Raven and Belle remained close, their fingers still lightly tracing over his skin, offering him the comforting afterglow of their teasing touch. "We knew you had it in you," Raven whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. "You were perfect, Will. The most lovely gift."

[deancasswitchbang]

Missionary Man

Author: AmberXBoone (@amberxboone​) Artist: Tallula03 (@alicetallula​) Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence  Tags: Murder Husbands, AU (no Supernatural), Lawyer Castiel, neuroscientist Dean WInchester, rock band Dean Winchester, anal sex, oral sex, shower sex,  References to gun violence, stabbings, gore, references to domestic violence, unsafe sex, blood covered sex, drug use/drug use reference

Summary: Castiel Novak, Esq. is a struggling Manhattan attorney who has made one too many mistakes at work. In order to make up for it, partners Chuck Shurley and Zachariah Adler task him with killing the star witness in the firm's biggest trial, a fraud case against Niveus Pharmaceuticals. That witness is disgraced whistleblower neuroscientist Dean Winchester, who has been playing rock star since being fired from his job. But after stalking Dean in the bars and clubs where his band plays, Castiel winds up in Dean's bed instead, and the two decide to take out the people after them to save themselves. Promo: Dean reaches down to Castiel, pulls him back up until he’s standing, kisses Castiel like no one has kissed him before. “Who are you, Castiel? Why have you been everywhere I’ve been for like a week?”

Castiel kisses him back, slips his tongue along the edges of Dean’s lips. “I’m supposed to kill you.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that.” Dean’s fingers move up to Castiel’s face. “You’re not doing a good job.”

“I know. I don’t really think I ever intended to do a good job.” Castiel lets his hands fall to Dean’s waist. “At least, not once I saw you.”

“So who sent you to do it? Hitman hired by my ex-boss to stop me from telling the truth at that fucking trial next month?” Dean presses his forehead into Castiel’s. “I always hated that asshole. How much did he say he’d pay you?”

“No, no not a hitman, or whatever. Not professionally, I mean.” Castiel can still feel the water raining down on his body. “I’m a lawyer—for the firm representing Niveus”

“They’re sending lawyers to kill people now?” Dean’s lips brush against Castiel’s as he speaks. “Do you charge hourly for that?”

“I don’t know, probably.” Castiel’s knee is in between Dean’s legs, pinning him up against the wall. “It was basically get you out of the way or lose my job. I think I know which way things are going now.”

“You can kill me right now. I won’t make a sound.” Dean kisses Castiel’s again, fingertips running along his jaw.

“The only thing I want to do to you is this—what we did last night, what we’re doing right now.” Castiel takes a step back, away from Dean, just enough to see all of him. His soaking wet body, the way droplets of water run down his chest, to his stomach, dripping off his thighs. “Fuck, that’s all I can even think about right now.”

Dean slips around Castiel, letting their skin touch as he climbs out of the shower. He runs a towel over his face, the eyeliner traces disappearing, before tying it around his waist. Strands of hair are all stuck to his forehead, and Castiel can

barely even remember how wound up here, or why he’s here. All he can do is watch Dean under the stark white bathroom lights and imagine all the things he wants to do to him, to his body. He wants to bend Dean over right here, over the bathroom counter, fuck him until he can’t take being fucked any more. Hold Dean face-down on the floor, spread him apart, make forget about every word Castiel had just told him. Make him forget about everything, everyone in the entire goddamn world, but Castiel.

But Dean turns off the shower, pulls Castiel by the wrists, until he’s back on the tiled floor, until their bodies are touching again. “You know what’s going to happen now, right?”

“I lose my job. Maybe worse. Probably worse.” Castiel can feel the fabric of Dean’s towel rubbing into him. “Maybe I’m the one at the bottom of a river with my brains blown out by the end of the weekend.”

“No.” Dean’s tongue finds its way between Castiel’s teeth. “We get them before they get us.”

POSTING BETWEEN APRIL 23rd AND MAY 6th, 2023!  

[thepaintedroom]

William Merritt Chase (American, 1849-1916) • The Tenth Street Studio • 1880

[adventuressclubamericas]

Flat Phryne's journey to Miss Fisher Con in New Orleans continues! This month, she's in Salem, OR! First stop, Phryne went to the A.C. Gilbert House to see where the famous erector set was invented. It's a children's museum now. While there wasn’t any polonium in sight, Phryne was able to see the Gilbert Children's chemistry sets that once came standard with uranium. Later found her visiting the Eco-Earth Globe along the Salem waterfront to chart her next world adventure. The globe is a collective art project between professional artists and 125 students from high schools all over the city. Originally a 26-foot-diameter steel acid storage ball, it was converted into an art installation as part of the downtown revitalization and is made up of over 86,000 individual tiles. Phryne's next stop was the state capital building to "enjoy the view" of the golden statue at the top. Phryne's always enjoyed a strong, interesting man; despite the scaffolding, her enjoyment of the 22-foot talk, "Brawny Woodsman," as he's called, did not disappoint. The hollow statute is made of bronze and coated in 23-karat gold leafing. With that level of polish and an axe at hand, he's just the kind of 'old friend' Phryne seems to attract. Then it was off to the historic Thomas and Kay Woolen Mill to see if she could find some skeins of yarn for Dot (and most likely stumble upon another factory murder). Now known as the Willamette Heritage Center, it teaches about the mill's strong ties to the world-famous Pendleton Wool Company, life as a laborer in the Willamette Valley, and preserves the classic fiber crafts established historically. Finally, she finished her adventure by visiting the Historic Elsinore Theatre (named for the castle setting in Hamlet). Built in 1926, the theatre was a popular location for silent films, live plays, vaudeville, and many other performances. The interior is styled after a Gothic castle and features painted murals of scenes from Shakespeare's play. Phryne hoped she'd be treated to another private recitation by Jack — perhaps something a bit more romantic than Hamlet. Where will Flat Phryne turn up next? Stay tuned…

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I can't believe I found another old favorite on the market again. It's the Mirror House. The owner covered the entire outside with mirrored tiles. It was originally built in 1969 in Pittsburgh, PA. I don't know at what point it got mirrored out, but it has many local fans. (Good thing there's no HOA.) It has 3bds, 4ba, & is listed for $899K. Oh, and the interior is pretty awesome, too.

It's a seriously artsy home. The fireplace has mirrored tile, and a piece of the ceiling is also mirrored. A checkered wall with a matching window shade complete the look.

Next to the living room is a dining area with stools around a large island. The kitchen has a service window with a place for plates and serving dishes.

The professional chef's kitchen has a large island and all the utensils are out and within easy reach.

The dining room is somethin' else. He really decorated this with mirrors galore. Do you love the dining table & chairs?

The primary bedroom has a tile wall that simulates brick.

This bath with a sunken tub is a little trippy and matches the dining room decor.

This secondary bedroom is also very nice.

And, here's another decorated bath.

If the new owner is an artist, there's a great studio/shop.

What do you think of the railings? This must've been very painstakingly done, as all the decor is, in this home.

Upstairs is a table with a lazy Susan, that looks like it's for games, plus a wall of what appear to be record albums.

Music room down in the basement.

Then, there's a sub-basement with a home theater.

Another bathroom down here.

Plus, another art studio/gallery.

Outside is a pergola with a mirrored wall.

The entire house is covered in mirrors, including the back. And, the red addition is the studio.

The home is on a nice big 1.50 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/897-Field-Club-Rd-Pittsburgh-PA-15238/11446516_zpid/

[the-bar-sinister]

Lucifer Was an Angel As Well (40079 words) bythesavagesabretooth

catch up here Summary: A sheltered young artist with a tragic past finds herself caught in the web of dark affection by a beautiful and sinister murderer, and his carefree rockstar brother.

-

September 2, 2028 – 9:00 pm

There was a door down a long staircase in a forbidding looking building. There was a line of people waiting around the corner to get into that door.

Klavier Gavin, with his arm around her shoulder, walked past them all, and down the steps to the door. There, a stern looking man with huge shoulders practically bursting out of his black t-shirt waved the both of them past. Klavier grinned, and saluted him before passing him some folded bills in a denomination Vera couldn't see.

Vera walked just a little closer to him, eyes wide at the packed crowd and the unfamiliar faces. 

A place like this, so busy and teeming with hopeful participants, and Klavier Gavin could just walk right past with some money and a smile.

It was a power she’d never known. “Wow..” 

"They love me here, fraulein," he said, grinning widely. "My favorite club in LA."

It took Vera's eyes a moment to adjust as she walked into the dark, busy, loud space, full of music and sound. The light came in bursts of color in intense shades, pulsing and flashing from the ceiling. Her shoes clicked on the tile floor which was done in black and white checkerboard, reflecting the colors as they shone.

The front of the club was a dense forest of tables across two sides,, with an aisle in the middle to pass, and these tables were crowded with people in all manner of exotic dress. The walls were high, and the decor was, Vera realized– despite the flashing lights– in a classic art deco style with soaring columns, geometric shapes, and classical statues.

For a moment it was almost overwhelming. The sound of the music and the people, the physical beat of the surround system , and the feeling of eyes on them as attention was drawn from all corners…but at the same time…

It was so new, unique and strange as to be exciting. The room was beautiful, a room caught in time and bathed in the colors and lights of the modern era. A work of art, down to the teeming bodies moving through it.

She hugged Klavier’s arm a little tighter. “So they all know you?” she tried to speak up to ask. 

"What?" he called back, craning toward her. Then he shook his head. "Well, not everyone, liebling! But many, ja? And the owners! We are great friends."

Indeed, she noticed several people at the tables wave at him, and he waved happily back.

He kept his arm around her as he led her through the room to the second area, where the room was flanked by a pair of bars on either side of them, both crowded with people. There was an enormous statue looming over each bar, like a moon-faced lion, one in striking black, the other in bright white.

Vera felt a sort of inspiration well up in her once more…maybe, to commemorate the occasion, she’d draw the striking image and capture it forever on canvas…maybe. 

“W-what’s the difference between the bars?” she asked with a nervous smile, half ducking behind his arm as the people waved. 

"Ah, you see fraulein, it is very important! One of them is on the left– and the other is on the right!"

Vera stared at him for a moment before she said “r…right.”

She pointed to the one on the right. 

He laughed and patted her on the back. "Very good, fraulein! Right it is! Honest, there are just two for the look of it– and to pack more people in of course."

He swaggered with her to the bar on the right, the one with the black lion statue, and a couple of people hastily pushed a space open at the bar for him.

"Hey, Klavier!"

"Klavgav!"

"Oooh, what brings you out tonight, herr piano?"

"New girlfriend, Klavvy?"

Suddenly all eyes were on him, as he kept her close, a number of the bar's patrons looking her over.

"Ladies, gentlemen, other!" Klavier crowed. "This is my dear friend Vera whom is like a little sister to me. I am taking her out for her first drinks, ja?"

Vera’s eyes went a little wide, and her glossy lips parted into an unsure smile as she waved her hand at them. The multicolored lights sparkled off her ‘lucky charm’…the shining and subtle nail polish she always wore as of late…as she wiggled them at the newcomers.

“H-hhhh” She bowed her head. “how do you do?” 

"Oh she's precious!"

"How do you do!"

"I love your dress, Vera!"

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Klavier took his hands off her briefly to make a shoo-ing gesture at them.

"Maybe later, maybe later, meine freunde! Give my little sister some breathing room, ja? Before I vanish her to the VIP lounge instead!" He grinned brilliantly and tossed his hair, sparkling under the radiant lights.

The word from him was all it took and there were a dozen blown kisses and 'see you laters' and 'have funs!' as they dispersed or turned back to their own conversations.

It was a power she’d never known, she couldn’t help but think again as the masses dispersed. As they left with a quiet ‘see you later’ of her own, she leaned against Klavier’s side with a bit of newfound respect.

“You really have a way with people…” she winked conspiratorially. “big brother.” 

He turned his shining grin back on her and sloped his arm around her shoulders once more. "Little sister. Let me get you that drink. Something sweet, like you, ja?"

She leaned into his arm, and nodded. “Just as long as it’s really strong too. I..m-might need it before more of your friends come calling.” 

"Sweet, but strong. Something with a real bite to it, ja? I'm not surprised that this combination appeals to you."

He favored her with a very teasing, almost flirtatious look, as he flagged down the bartender.

September 2, 2028 – 9:25 pm

Vera was all the way through the tall, neon blue, melon-tasting drink that Klavier had handed her, and part of the way through the second before she started to notice the effects. A certain bending of the light and warmth that went through her face and down to her fingers. It dulled the light, and made the music roar ever so slightly in her ears.

Klavier had been chatting to her about the music. It was a throwback night, and he was telling her about The Cure while she drank, with all the knowledge and enthusiasm his brother had expressed for cosmetics in his letters.

She nodded along, wide eyed and curious as the music pumped in her ears along with his enthusiasm. 

It was that kind of knowledgeable enthusiasm that caught her attention with Kristoph’s letters, and now it seemed it was a family trait. 

She felt hot, her fingers flexing against the glass as she tried to wave the bartender down for another.

Despite her nerves, she was starting to feel a little less penned in among the press of people. A little more able to focus her attention down to the companionable ‘big brother’ who’d taken her out and to the atmosphere of the club. She even had started to wiggle along with the music as it moved through her. 

Klavier seemed to notice her movement, because he knocked back the rest of his glass, and grinned at her in a pause in his monologue.

"So fraulein, are you ready to dance with me?"

“Huuh?” Vera looked up with a start and a timid grin. “if you think I’m ready…that s-sounds pretty fun. W-warning. I won’t be good.” 

"Good? Bad? It doesn't make a difference" He waved a hand dismissively. "If we wanted good dancing we would be hiring choreographers! This is for the fun. For the movement. For the soul, liebling!"

Klavier snatched her wrist in his hand, and pulled her toward the furthest area of the bar yet– the dance floor, flanked by more menacing and beautiful statues, with a high, long podium up at the front where the DJ looked down like a reigning monarch.

She drifted along behind him, swept like one of the heroines in the few movies she’d seen in the cluttered studio she called her childhood.

For the fun, the movement and the soul– all things she rarely got the chance to nourish– though she knew the last was well and truly claimed. 

She flushed and looked up at the DJ with curious eyes. She wasn’t sure about the etiquette….

She waved up at him. 

The DJ caught her eye– or perhaps noticed Klavier with her– and gave a solemn nod.

The music changed, and a new song started.

Klavier pulled her into the dance floor and the rest of the dancers gave them a little space– word had spread perhaps, about the rockstar's 'little sister.'

"Don't get too far, ja!" he said over the music, "but other than that, just have fun with it!"

“I promise!” she said as loud as she could manage over the music. Despite herself– despite the claws of anxiety that the drink hadn’t quite quashed– she couldn’t help but smile as she tried to get into the movement of it.

Unfamiliar as it was, she knew she looked a little silly, but beside Klavier…her ‘big brother’, so to speak, she was reasonably confident nobody would tease. 

The music pulsed and bounced around them in time with the lights, and Klavier seemed to be trying to 'show her how it was done' moving his body in a loose, free way vaguely in time with it all. His skin glittered and his hair bounced around his face, and he seemed utterly careless of what anyone else might say.

The way he sparkled in the light reminded her of the statues, beautiful and artfully presented, glistening in the strange colored lights of the club and drawing the eye.

Confidence wasn’t Vera Misham’s strongest suit, not with the way her isolation had crippled her social abilities, but with the drink and Klavier’s enthusiastic attempts to show her how it’s done she found herself mimicking his movements, letting herself move in time with the rhythm as she tuned out everything but the music and him. 

The music seemed to capture them both in a bubble outside time for a moment, dancing without concern for grace, only to feel the rhythm that pulsed through the soles of their shoes, to the pits of their souls for one song, and then another.

Just as Vera was becoming breathless, the music changed, and a slow song came on– no longer fit for the wild, bacchanalian fervor that had briefly overtaken her.

She almost stumbled to a stop, putting her hand to her chest with a flushed smile. She felt the beat of her heart against her palm, the hot air in her lungs as she looked up at Klavier with a flustered laugh. “...f-fun. That was fun.” 

Klavier was smiling widely, and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Do you want to go sit down– or one more?"

“One more…then I think I’d like another drink..and to sit with you again…” she looked up at him as she tried to get the motion down for a slower song. “heh, ‘big brother’ Klavier.”

She glanced over her shoulder, briefly worried that eyes were back on them. 

Vera had just enough time to notice that it wasn't true– everyone else on the dance floor seemed suddenly preoccupied with one another– before Klavier suddenly swept her into his arms and pulled her close to his glitter covered, musky body– pulling her immediately into a swaying dance.

She squeaked, surprised as she was by the sudden sway, but her mimicry went beyond art forgery, even with the alcohol buzzing in her head.

She stepped close, and slowly began to follow his lead, copying his movements as some of his sparkling body glitter and the heavy scent of his cologne rubbed off on her dress. 

The timeless bubble seemed to wrap around them again, but the mood was different– a warm glow instead of flickering fire. His hands on her back and shoulders, her body against his, pulling her and swaying with her as the music overtook them.

Vera let him lead, soon enough managing to get the steps down and lose herself in the moment under the unblinking gaze of the statues. Her face felt hot…all of her felt hot, flushed in the light of the club and the alcohol in her system…and certainly with the company.

As she swayed under the flashing lights, she snuck a glance up at Klavier with a smile free of its usual timidity. 

Klavier was smiling– not his big, flashy grin, but a small, joyful smile that reminded Vera strongly of her guardian angel. His eyes were closed and he seemed carried off by the music, and, if the sweep of his hands down her back and sides was any way to judge, by the dance with her as well.

She let herself move a little closer, her hands resting against his sides as she took in the expression to add to her store of memories..a snapshot of the moment as she swayed against him and closed her eyes to let the music take her once more. 

It was over too soon. As the music ended, Klavier twirled her around, pulling her toward him so that her back rested against his chest, and he put his chin on top of her head.

"You're a lovely dancer, liebling. How about that drink, ja?"

She tilted her head against him, looking up at him from below with a flustered smile. 

“That sounds lovely, Klavier…” She closed her eyes with a laugh. “I’m glad to h-hear I haven’t done half bad, I had a wonderful teacher.” 

"You'll have to introduce me," he joked. She felt him plant a kiss on the top of her head, and then he partially released her, one arm still thrown over her shoulders as they departed the dance floor.

She looped an arm around his side, feeling emboldened by the dance and the liquor, and laughed. 

“I hear he’s a hard man to get a hold of…and currently out on the town with a certain young lady.” She laughed into her free hand, glancing up at him with a smile. “and he has a lovely smile when he’s dancing.” 

"Oh my! The way you describe him I have a crush already, fraulein." He grinned brightly and led her to a set of steps at the edge of the dancefloor that led up to a little door with a sign that said VIP room.

He fished in his pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and unlocked the door.

Vera leaned over, steadying herself by resting her head against his side. 

“You’ve got your own room…? Like a hotel room, or..?”

She had no idea, in truth, what a VIP room even entailed…it wasn’t something that had really come up in conversation with Pearl, though she’d heard the term from Trucy a few times. 

"Not exactly a room of my own, fraulein– if there were other VIPs here tonight, we would have to share! But I think we have it all to ourselves."

He waved an arm to usher her in, and followed close behind, closing the door tightly.

It was a wide, lavish space a lot like a classy living room or a parlor. This space too was done up in art deco style and it was easier to see due to the lack of the flashing lights. It had long, low couches with intricate geometric patterns in gold flourishes, and a number of pale marble statues set around the room. There was a pool table, and a couple of pinball machines, and, dominating one side of the room– an unmanned bar area stocked full of liquors. 

Her hand went to her mouth.

“Oh…that makes sense.” She pointed to the pool table and the pinball machines. “It's a quieter part of the club…special part of the club…with games and all the drinks you want.”

She laughed shyly “...I don’t think I’d ever see a place like this on my own.” 

"It is for special guests only," Klavier admitted, striding over to the bar, and slipping behind it with a smile. "I am a special guest. And tonight, fraulein, you are my special guest. How do you like that?"

It was easier to talk here than in the main body of the club. The music was still present– piped in large speakers high in the room– but it was a little quieter and the roar of the crowd was dulled and separate.

It was nicer, not that the main club wasn’t fun, but with the roar of the crowd dulled and distant, and the music not as oppressive. She felt less like she’d been whisked into some loud and excitable fairy tale. She wandered over to lean on the bar with a flush and a smile.

“...I like it. I certainly feel special, swept away across th-the dancefloor. I hope I’ve made a good impression!” She rested her head on her arms, looking up at him with a grin “first drink, and with g-good company.”

He set the bottle he was holding down next to her and put a hand on her head gently. "I'm glad that I could make it a special occasion, liebling."

She preened a little at the touch. Having her hair brushed, or the simple gesture of a hand on her head, had always been one of her favorite tactile sensations right there with painting her nails.

Her eyes closed, her smile happy even in its subtle way. 

“It feels special…you’ve been too kind to me, Mr. Klavier.” 

He stroked her hair almost like she were a cat. "Too kind, liebchen? Never. It is only right for my 'little sister', ja?"

There was a mischief in Klavier's words– that flirtatious edge again.

She felt her face heat again, this time she was sure it wasn’t just the alcohol. She hardly minded–absolutely not the petting, and certainly not the mischief; the flirtation– from Klavier, her guardian angel’s brother and the man who took her in as a confidant of their family secrets, and a fascinating and charming man in his own right.

She smiled up at him as her dark hair fell over her eye. 

“I’m not going to argue!” she laughed quietly, “you’re going to spoil me, big brother.” 

She glanced up at him, a bit of her own impishness– surely grown from the presence of the devil in her life…leaking flirtatiously into her tone. 

He grinned widely at her, leaning down toward her with that same flirtatious air. "I have been taught that that is part of a big brother's job, liebling."

She gasped, though the smile didn’t leave her face. 

“Oh! That does make sense…” she tilted her chin till she looked into his eyes with a sheepish laugh. “Then it’s a little sister’s job not to take that from him…spoil me as much as you w-want, big brother.” 

Klavier reached down and he rested his fingers on her warm cheek. "As much as I want, liebling? That's a dangerous proposition."

Vera half closed her eyes in seeming thought , taking the opportunity to nuzzle her flushed cheek against his fingertips. 

“I’m pretty used to danger…I’m not going to retract it.” She tilted her head, and her lips lightly brushed his fingertips, the gloss leaving a little mark against the pad. “as m-much as you want.”

He stroked her cheek down to her chin, and pulled her up lightly to face him. His pale blue eyes seemed to glint in the dim room.

"Then I will ask you only two more questions, liebchen," he purred. "The first– you have never been kissed before, ja?"

Vera shook her head with a sheepish smile. 

“No…well…” she thought back…a kiss on the cheek from an over-enthusiastic Trucy after complimenting her after her show probably didn’t count. “N-no, never.” 

"I thought so." The fingers of his other hand curled in her hair. "Last question. Do you want to give your first kiss to him, or do you want to practice first? You may think carefully, fraulein."

Hearing him speak about it that way gave her pause as she looked up at him, frozen for a moment in thought and indecision.

Her first kiss– was it as important as Pearl had always told her? Her limited experience, her small pool of friends, it left her a little adrift, especially as Pearl had been adamant that your first kiss was something special.

The idle thought of who Pearl’s first kiss was, or would, flickered out under the question looming in her mind.

“...oh. Ah…” 

On one hand…to give something so important to Kristoph Gavin would be another surrender…another offering to the devil himself to tighten his grip on her. On the other…he was an experienced man, with many lovers before her…in addition to her…in the past and present.

Would he be impressed if she kissed him with confidence?

“Pearl…says your first kiss is sacred. But…w-what do you think, big b-brother?” 

"I wouldn't take away something special that you want to give to another, fraulein," he said, shaking his head. " I have never been one personally to take stock in firsts, but there are many who do."

He stroked his fingers over her cheek and released her, putting his hand on the bottle next to her instead.

She flushed, dropping her chin back into her arms with a tilt of her head. 

“Does your brother take stock in firsts?” she asked curiously. “Of all the things I’ve been trying to catch up on and learn…this is one they don’t exactly teach you in the accelerated learning programs.. H-heh.” 

Klavier chuckled. "My brother? No, liebling. My brother takes stock in skill, I am afraid. He is a very different kind of romantic than you see on TV.".

She smiled a little wider at that, and her heart thumped against her ribs. 

“...then I think I’d like some practice. I’ve only learned a little…but I never really got why Pearl was so adamant about firsts, even if I believed her. ” Vera leaned on her arms, and looked up at him “if you’re still i-interested in helping me, ‘big brother’? If the mood hasn’t passed.”

He released his hand on the bottle and reached down to stroke her face tenderly again, shaking his head.

"Nein, fraulein, never fear. The mood could not pass in the company of your charming self. Come here. Let me teach you how to kiss our big brother."

Vera’s face heated under his hand. Between the contact and the very idea she was feeling very warm indeed. She shifted closer, standing to ease herself over the bar and towards him with a nod of her head.

Let me show you how to kiss our big brother. 

It sent more of a thrill through her than it should have, sending warmth prickling through her body more than the drink ever had. 

“On your lead, big brother…I’m a good student.”

Klavier leaned forward over the bar between them, still cupping her face. His other arm he scooped under one of hers to pull her closer, and he leaned down.

His lips met hers and he sucked on them almost delicately for a moment. She could taste the alcohol and sweetness in his mouth, as well as the chapstick on his lips.

That, it seemed, was the same as what she wore, too. Peppermint.

She closed her eyes, sucking softly at his lips in return…the taste of peppermint and sharp alcohol on her tongue, a taste she knew was shared between them. 

True to her word, she followed his lead, gently– carefully mimicking his motions as she half propped herself on the bar near him. 

Klavier's kiss was slow, and deliberate, as if he really did mean to teach her the ins and outs of it. After she sucked on his lips for a moment, she felt his tongue press between her teeth.

It surprised her at first, if only a little. 

She’d read novels, seen shows– but the experience of it firsthand was exciting. A tingle rolled through her body again as she parted her teeth to let him kiss her deeper. Her tongue inexpertly brushing his as she shifted against the counter to press firmly against him. 

Carefully and deliberately his tongue explored her mouth and stroked against hers. Carefully and deliberately he sucked and toyed with her lips– until for a moment, care and deliberation gave way to hunger as he pulled her closer.

She gasped, but found her arms going around him to better brush her whole body closer to his. As she promised, she was a good learner, even as she too gave in to the eager hunger that now burned inside her.

Kristoph Gavin liked experience–liked skill– and she had a lot she was eager to learn from Klavier. Her teeth grazed his lips , her hands traced over the hem of his short-cropped shirt, for the moment she left her hesitation behind and let herself feel the music between them. 

Finally he released her when she needed to breathe, and he moved back just a bit, hand still on her face.

"Very good for a first time, liebling. You're a fast learner."

She caught her breath, finally opening her eyes with a soft gasp, one hand leaving his stomach to press against her chest as it rose and fell.

“oh..oh…oh..” she bit her lip, tasting the stronger taste of peppermint on her smeared glossy chapstick. She closed the small gap he’d made to press against him again with a nuzzle to his hand “I told you…though i’m still a novice.” 

She looked up at him with a trace of mischief, and he grinned back at her.

"Not for long, certainly." She felt the weight of his gaze on her as he seemed to look her over, and then he brushed his fingers through his hair. "Perhaps we should switch to water, little sister, or I'm likely to do something rushed and immature, ja?"

“Rushed and immature…” she murmured with a pleasant little shiver. “if you think it’s for the best, big brother. I’m still following your lead.” 

She looked up at him with a half smile.

Klavier brushed his fingers through her hair and smiled back at her. "You are not likely to be disappearing any time soon from my life, ja, fraulein? So, plenty of time to teach, and to make mistakes. No need to rush."

She nuzzled against his hand, rather like a large cat in her own opinion, and chuckled as well

“I’m not going anywhere, Klavier. I wouldn’t, couldn’t leave. There’s all the time in the world to make sure I learn everything I n-need to about this…big brothers and all.”

Klavier grinned almost bashfully, and patted her cheek. She could see a little bit of a flush in his face, and it might not have all been alcohol. "Ach, liebling, you have pinned me with my own joke. But maybe I never meant it as a joke at all."

He poked her nose, and then pulled away from her, grabbing a pair of cups and starting to load them with ice from under the bar.

She stuck her tongue out a bit playfully, before she leaned on her arms again with a flustered half smile “...maybe I’m glad you never meant it as a joke, Klavier…” 

He chuckled as he filled their water glasses, and passed one to her. "You like it then? Perhaps in some twisted way this was all meant to be."

She took it gratefully and took a long and almost desperate sip. 

“Meant to be..” With a musical little laugh she nodded. “Maybe it was meant to be. Fate…or the devil’s own luck making sure all the right players are ensnared in the web…because y-yes… i do.” 

"Let's drink to that strange twisted luck, fraulein. I'm happy to have you here tonight." He raised his water glass toward her.

She raised hers with his and clinked them together with a smile. 

“...I’m happy to be here, Klavier…a celebration of…of my entry into the Academy, and of my acceptance into the family, y-yeah? To the twisted luck that made it all happen.” 

"Cheers, liebling."

[lilahaze]

"lobby"

i demand that i walk. the man holds fast, a boulder cemented into the riverbed. threatened by his low, eerie gaze and the metal clipped to his belt loop, i sink abashedly into the wheelchair.

his heavy breaths are not nearly as sweet as those of a diabetic; neither are those of his men, complete with neatly-pressed uniforms and a lack of regard. the eyes of patients and employees alike bore into me as i am rushed past, skinny and resistant. all had deemed me pitiful, their opinions unchanged since my arrival a week prior. this was not how my plan was supposed to go; i should be corralled inside a shabby house, corrupted by ham sandwiches and my third day of drama club practice. i should be anywhere but condemned to a wheelchair surrounded by unfamiliarity save for my stuffed rabbit clutched tightly in hand.

my conscience sold, i confirm that the facade i had meticulously crafted throughout the past eleven months had been shattered. alongside greying locks, my parents remain accusatory. with a cold spine curved toward the north winds, i had spent days justifying and elaborating upon my truth that had adopted the form of a waning crescent i still yearn to taste.

my parents have never listened to me. my parents have never listened to anyone.

eyes locking onto the stretcher, i quickly regret my distaste for the wheelchair; i wish that i had been left to rot atop the cell-littered cot that had exemplified death. i miss the open-backed gowns littered with cartoon tigers, mesh underwear, and my view from the sixth floor. i wish for anything but as the men coax belts across my limbs, dark leather contrasting against the whites of bony wrists.

distrusting, i observe how their knuckles brighten against the silver bars aa i am wheeled into the sun. the september air tastes of my father's cholesterol pills.

dark sunglasses slip from the bridge of his speckled nose as he settles into the passenger seat of the silent ambulance that had escaped his grasp. red metal aglitter and engine brought alive, we are swiftly driven to the west end of the block.

i had sworn that i would not run had my father been permitted to drive me to the ward, the hospital staff riddled with disbelief. his retinas burnt the unbrushed strands from the crown of my head, evidence of his abuse littering the stretcher. the financial burden of my state, crouched atop the extruded aluminum, assures me that i would not be walked from as i had walked from the shabby house, syringe needles beneath my heels.

the back doors thrown open, i shrink in the face of noon: my perpetrator. closed eyes do not deliver me from my fate. i refocus my pupils. the wheels roll forward. i know well that the scent of alcohol wipes and fear will sap my senses for weeks. i know this yet i remain stunned as i am pushed into the lobby and off to the side to allow the men to speak with the receptionist.

white tile under wheels, strained wrists and the suffocation of cheap fluorescence: i ponder reality to distract myself from the fact i remain restrained. i am a spectacle and the lights are the color of my hospital underwear. the crude stars atop my nails lopsided, i know i am not an artist, however, i claim to be one. this is why the doctors will only allow me the joy of colored pencils under direct supervision. i am the tile, they are the wheels. this is how it will be.

i yearn for a father that would raise his hands and command the men to stop. alas, i remain bound to a father that smiles behind his sunglasses. i remain bound to a father that laments that there is, supposably, nothing he can do and leaves me to stare at the back of his work shirt as he exits.

i will lose time to the rough wind of late summer. the psychiatrist, gloved and in possession of a tendency to sentence thirteen-year olds with bruised thighs to countless sleeps behind barred windows, will count my scars and classify me as a danger to myself. he is not required to inform me of his educated guess as to the number of times i have mercilessly taunted myself. regardless, he will be wrong. i have learned that psychiatrists are often wrong. earth rotates regardless of my sentence to track the days and repress my wish for another chaotic saturday. time, burrowed inside the grandfather clock nailed to the sage-hued wall of my living room, has ignored my burning gaze and continues quite alike it always has. today will not be the day it ceases and certainly not for me: a sun-bleached ward of the state.

[uwmspeccoll]

It’s Fine Press Friday!

Death of a Salesman: Certain Private Conversations in two Acts and a Requiem, a tragedy by American playwright, screenwriter, and essayist Arthur Miller (1915-2005) is here published, with five etchings by American graphic artist, Leonard Baskin (1922-2000), by the Limited Editions Club (LEC) in a limited edition of 1500 copies signed by the playwright and the artist in 1984. 

The play, Death of a Salesman, first opened on February 10, 1949. It was incredibly popular, and is considered by some critics to be one of the best American plays. It has since been revived on Broadway five times and adapted to film ten times, and has won numerous awards. Salesman is a fine example of one of Arthur Miller’s dominant themes,the importance of the father-son relationship. It is somewhat inspired by Miller's short time working for his father. His biographer wrote:

Arthur particularly loathed the vulgarity and aggressiveness of the buyers, who treated his father and the salesmen with arrogant contempt, and he became acutely aware of the meaning of self-respect when he saw how cruelly it was abused.

The play is about the unrealistic expectations we have for ourselves and others, expectations that cause us to lose sight of what really matters even to the point of falling out of touch with reality. In this case it is the expectations a father has for his children. 

This edition marks Leonard Baskin’s third time illustrating for the Limited Editions Club. Other tiles he has worked on include, Eugene O'Neill’s The Iceman Cometh, 1982 and Aristotle’s Poetics & Politics, 1964, both of which we may feature at a later date.. The striking etched portraits are very characteristic of Baskin’s work. Baskin often works in themes of death. His etchings richly portray the mental degradation that the main character, Willy Loman, suffers from. 

This book was designed by book designer Benjamin Shiff, son of LEC owner Sydney Shiff. He selected American and English Monotype Bulmer fonts, which were set in type by Dan Carr and Julia Ferrarie at Golgonooza Letter Foundry. The text was printed at the Wild Carrot Letterpress by Daniel Keleher and the etchings were printed at The Heron Press by Bruce Chandler. The paper was made by Cartiere Enrico Magnani and the book was bound by Gray Parrot Incorporated. Our copy was a gift from our friend Jerry Buff. 

View more Limited Edition Club posts.

View more Fine Press Friday posts.

– Teddy, Special Collections Graduate Intern

[udo0stories]

New York City is the most iconic and most visited city in the United States. With its distinctive skyline, diverse neighborhoods, world-class museums, incredible Broadway productions, and melting pot of cultures, NYC attracts millions of visitors each year. (It’s also the place I call home.) New York City is huge. I mean, ten million people live here. Where do you stay when you’re here? There are so many hotels to choose from. To help you plan your visit and narrow down your options, here’s my list of the best hotels in NYC: 1. East Village Hotel Located in the East Village, my absolute favorite neighborhood in NYC, this boutique aparthotel is run more like an Airbnb than a traditional hotel. You get sent a code before arrival to check in, and there’s no staff or restaurant on site (though an outpost of The Bean, a popular NYC café, is right downstairs). The studio apartments are designed to reflect the neighborhood’s bohemian spirit, with contemporary artistic décor, beautiful exposed brick walls, and lots of natural light. The kitchenettes include a stovetop, refrigerator, microwave, dishwasher, and silverware. Rooms include comfy pillowtop beds, showers with good water pressure, a flatscreen TV, and complimentary bath products. Everything is pretty compact, but in an area with few hotels, this is one of the best-value spots. Stay here if you want to be in a central location with tons of great restaurants and bars at your fingertips.   2. The Marlton Originally built in 1900, this historic boutique hotel in Greenwich Village has been home to many of the area’s bohemian set, including one of my favorite writers, Jack Kerouac (he even penned a few novellas here). I like that the hotel’s extensive renovations still kept its classic aesthetic. The beautiful interior has a stately feel, with ornate moldings, herringbone parquet floors, and vintage furnishings like brass light fixtures, ornate rugs, and custom-made furniture. The staff are super friendly too. The rooms are pretty small, but well designed to make use of the space. They come with flat-screen TVs, comfy beds with plush bedding, wardrobes, minibars, and marble bathrooms. The Marlton is also home to an excellent bar that serves incredible cocktails, and there’s a complimentary breakfast available too. I think it’s the best value for your money in the area.   3. Vocabulary: The Franklin This three-star hotel is in a 19th-century brownstone in the Upper East Side, the neighborhood I live in (if you see me, say hi!). The rooms here are simple, but the hotel has some great perks, like a free 24-hour espresso bar and a standard late checkout time of 12 p.m. The restaurant is currently being renovated, so there’s no breakfast available on-site, but there are tons of places just steps away. The rooms are decorated in a minimal (but cozy) style, with white-painted chandeliers and cute original art. All rooms come with large TVs and comfy pillow-top mattresses, while their larger rooms come with a desk and easy chair. Everything is newly renovated, and the glass-enclosed showers have excellent pressure. The location is great too, as it’s on a quiet, leafy street close to Central Park and Museum Mile.   4. Hotel Indigo This four-star hotel is dedicated to supporting local street art and artists, and you’ll see plenty of their work throughout the building. The rooftop bar, Mr. Purple, is a favorite among locals for fancy cocktails, and on the weekends, the area turns into an upscale club. (Because of that, it’s a 21+ hotel.). There’s even a heated pool on the rooftop too. The rooms boast hardwood floors, bold artwork, and floor-to-ceiling windows with impressive views over the city. All rooms also include Keurig machines, desks, and a minibar (for which you get a $20 USD credit). The bathrooms are large, beautifully tiled, and feature rainfall shower heads. While there’s no breakfast served on site, you’re just steps away from tons of great eateries open at all hours. Overall,

I think this hotel is the best place to stay if you want to experience NYC’s legendary nightlife.   5. The Standard The Standard is one of the best hotels in the city (I think this East Side location is even better than the one in the Meatpacking district). The bar serves some of the best drinks in town and is usually always packed with NY’s fashionable set. There’s a café where you can get breakfast in the mornings too. The recently renovated rooms are gorgeous, decorated in a minimal design with bright pops of color and lots of natural light thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows. They’re pretty big too, especially by NYC standards. All rooms at this four-star hotel feature plush beds, fluffy down pillows, huge flatscreen TVs, Bluetooth speakers, cozy bathrobes, work desks, and stocked minibars. The bathrooms are spacious, with tiled walk-in showers and organic designer toiletries. You’ll also get complimentary access to the nearby Crunch gym (in case you want to work off all the delicious food from the plethora of nearby restaurants).   6. The Library Hotel Everything at this four-star hotel is book-related. Each of the ten floors has a different theme, and all of the 60 rooms have dozens of books that fit within that theme (the hotel has a collection of over 6,000 books!). There’s also a Reading Room lounge with work desks, cozy nooks for reading or writing, and 24/7 coffee, tea, snacks, and drinks. Guest rooms are a good size (for NYC) and feature rich wood furnishings in a sleek, contemporary design, with plush bedding, minibars, flatscreen TVs, desks, and luxury bath products. There’s also free breakfast, a rooftop terrace with a bar that serves literary-themed drinks, and really helpful staff. It’s a quiet respite from an otherwise busy and loud neighborhood. Stay here for a unique experience that’s close to major tourist sites like Times Square, the Empire State Building, and Grand Central Station.   7. The Sherry-Netherland Located on Fifth Avenue, right across from Central Park, this ornate five-star hotel is housed in a stunning Beaux-Arts building. The lobby boasts vaulted, painted ceilings and custom-made chandeliers, and the elevator even has a white-gloved operator, just to highlight how upscale this property is. The property’s Italian restaurant serves breakfast in the mornings, and there’s a fitness center available too. The spacious rooms are elegantly decorated, with mahogany desks, tasteful art on the walls, and large marble bathrooms. All rooms include flatscreen TVs, luxury bath products, complimentary soda, mineral water, and chocolates, and daily newspaper delivery. This is the place to stay if you want to splash out on a classy and timeless NYC hotel experience.