#thcophagy

"has anyone ever threatened to strangle you with their bare hands? just wondering."

from his position on the floor, with his hands behind his back and his frame resting on his knees, wyatt would have expected to feel more... degraded. and perhaps he does, but in a shockingly arousing way. still, doesn't mean he's suddenly the perfect submissive; there's a certain defiance in his eyes as he looks up at them. "you serious?" (he scoffs as though his cock doesn't twitch inside his jeans at the thought.) "thought you wanted me to eat you out or somethin'."

"he's such a fucking dick," she spits out, heels clacking against the studio floor as she sucks down on a smoothie. the latest assistant her agent sprung on her is trailing faithfully behind, though maria doesn't bother looking their way until they reach her scrappy trailer. "who the fuck is he to tell me i don't understand the reference? it's a fucking game show dupe, any grandma that still has cable could understand it." she collapses on the couch with a dramatic huff, as though shitting on the head writer currently responsible for her career is a perfectly sane move.

"so... this is where we live?" he just can't seem to push his frame past the doorway, eyes warily surveying the space. everything feels unfamiliar and off-kilter these days, but there's something about the space that feels... wrong. can't necessarily trust his mind these days, but he's always relied on his gut. and right now, it's ringing a five alarm bell. "guess it's safe to assume you took charge of the decorating then, huh?" it's meant to be a joke, but the nervous timber in his tone conveys apprehension.

living relatively close to a powerful ley line has always been a blessing and a curse. a blessing because, for the average amateur (or, in orla's case, aspiring) witch, the frequencies make everything that much more amplified, which leaves room for experimentation and discovery. and, of course, a curse because of such rumored abilities, making it easy to exploit and get wrong. but orla cannot live a single second longer with her git of an abusive husband, so if she has to make a literal deal with the devil to solve her problem? well, then so be it. and so two hours, one meekly stirred potion, and three poorly ritual circles drawn in the dirt later, she's holding her breath as the trees and ground begin to shake around her. she takes a step back, somehow both determined to stand her ground and seconds from fleeing back to the comfort of her own home.

it took a long moment for evie's eyes to adjust to the image on her screen, only registering familiar shapes and colors, though her brain couldn't put them together in a clear picture. every performance was exhausting, but the one she'd just rushed off stage from was especially taxing, both physically and mentally. all she wanted was a couple minutes to herself to decompress, at least, but instead she had to continue the emotional performance of remaining in character even as a stranger backstage shoved their phone in her face, babbling on about something she was too overstimulated to catch. the more the image came into place, however, the more her expression began to shift, a sense of dread settling in the pit of her stomach and a sour taste in her mouth. unsure how to respond to such a gruesome sight so casually displayed by a smiling stranger, she forced herself to return that politeness, as if she hadn't seen anything at all. "i'm sorry, i, uh... i should be getting back to my dressing room," she tried to explain, but they wouldn't budge from her path. "i'm all sweaty."

the last thing nell had expected to see in her kitchen more than two hours after she’d left work was her new intern sat at the table with her kids, both seemingly engrossed by the stranger. the shock and slight panic of such a sight made her stop dead in her tracks, hovering by the doorway with wide eyes and a tightness in her throat, her mind immediately jumping to the worst case scenario— they'd come to expose her, only, they'd happened to show up the night her husband was out of town and she was alone with the kids. she could’ve been standing there for mere seconds or whole minutes before they finally glanced up and acknowledged her, lips curling into an innocent smile that didn’t at all match the taboo nature of visiting her at home after what their professional relationship had evolved to. “sorry— i didn’t hear you come in… is everything alright?”

“this is not that bad, actually…” which was easy for him to say, all things considered. after the video had leaked, no one looked down on him. if anything, it only boosted his own reputation, adding just the right amount of authentic sleaze to his flirty, party boy persona. their participation, however, had not been received as favorably, which would explain their unpleasant reaction. “it’s not that bad, and i’ll tell you why— it’s… well i don’t wanna say it’s a career thing, but it wouldn’t be… horrible. for either of us. right? it’s almost chic now, it’s like… nostalgic is what it is! i’m not saying we claim it’s a publicity stunt, but there’s nothing wrong with treating it like one.”