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celestiamour · 4 days ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ sharing is caring ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @formerlypeanut ˚₊ ⊹

ft. logan howlett, scott summers x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ ever since you started dating, logan noticed that scott’s (hidden) eyes have been wandering, and what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t let him indulge?┊2k words

contains: smut!! dom logan, scott & sub reader┊established relationship (logan & reader), voyeurism/cuckolding, nipple play, fingering, cumming untouched, masturbation (logan)

➤ author's note: it’s been a while since i posted anything xmen related (or anything aside from squid game), but i still love them ^^ also the ending is so shit but oh well

logan’s been around for quite a while, it’s no secret. he knows how to read people and how things run by now, and if there’s anything he knows how to spot like it’s highlighted in neon, it’s attraction and desire for another. ever since he started dating you, he’s started becoming more watchful over what you do and the people you interact with (not in a controlling way, of course, he’s just territorial by nature and wants to keep an eye on his beloved to make sure she’s safe from how cruel and predatory the world can be), which has opened his eyes to something he’s never quite noticed before.

scott summers isn’t half as slick as he thinks he’s being.

he would be lying if he said he and cyclops were buddy-buddy with each other and didn’t butt heads every day, but he never thought he would have the audacity to flirt with his girl in broad daylight in front of him thinking he was being subtle.

practically everything about his behavior screams “i’m so into you, break up with your boyfriend and run away with me instead.” the way he leans into you when you speak to show you have his undivided attention, the way he rushes to fulfill your every request trying to beat him to punch, the way he likes to give little gifts that he claims reminded him of you, the way he puts extra effort when training in the danger room to flex in front of you, the way he laughs at a little too loudly at your stupid jokes whether or not they were actually funny— you get the point, everything he does is a sign of his desire and logan can see the heart eyes behind his stupid ruby shades. it’s so glaringly obvious that he feels like an idiot for not noticing it before.

even the other xmen have seen it for crying out loud. ororo and hank exchange a brief look with their eyes, mixed with slight concern and confusion like everyone didn’t already get the pitch you were taken (they both love the drama though, they just know how to hide their true feelings unlike a certain someone). kurt started nervously giggling and changing the subject like clockwork in fear of a fight breaking out. students whisper in the halls asking if scott has a death wish for pinning after the wolverine’s girl and betting on when he’ll tear him a new one for it.

for fucks sake, jean had even pulled the brunette aside at one point so he had no fucking excuse of pretending he didn’t know what he was doing.

“listen, you’re my best friend, and i’m telling you to give it up! you missed your shot, and you can try again if they break up, but as of now, she’s off limits.”

“you don’t get it, she would be so much better with me instead—“

“you’re being a dick! how would you feel if logan persistently went after your girlfriend the way you are?”

“that’s in a completely different universe, but even then, she would eventually pick me over him.”

yet surprisingly enough, logan doesn’t feel half as jealous or possessive as he thought he would, which was a shock to himself when he realized. i mean, who wouldn’t fall for someone as beautiful and amazing as you? he’s positive everyone at x-mansion has felt some type of romantic way about you to some extent at some point. he was just the lucky one who you shared affection for. scott was just another one of those people, and his role as the second male lead in your life could easily have been another guy or girl expressing their similar infatuation.

that’s why he’s standing behind him right now, hands on his shoulders, and pushing him along the hallways to your shared room.

“listen, if you’re going to kill me, at least make me make my case—”

“i’m not gonna kill you, i just have a surprise for you.”

“if your surprise is gonna be adamantium claws in my face, i’m not interested—” there was no one in the mansion at the moment aside from the two of them as far as he’s concerned, since everyone else was doing an overnight field trip. this would be the perfect time for logan to finally dispose of him if he so pleased for all these weeks of constant annoyance.

“no, you’re gonna love it, i promise.”

“the last time you said i would love one of your surprises, i was picking out porcupine quills from my ass for two hours—”

before he could finish his statement of the painful recollection, he was shoved into the dark bedroom. hearing the other man lock the door behind him, he closed his eyes and braced himself for a stabbing pain in his body.

“scott? why are you just standing there? come over here,” your voice called out to him, feather-light like the wings of an angel.

he opened his eyes to find you lying in the bed, waiting for him, all pretty and wearing a little baby pink dress that was hitched up to show that you weren’t even wearing any underwear. you looked like something straight out of a wet dream, and he wondered if he was going to wake up at any moment now that he had gotten to the best part.

you were reluctant to agree to something like this, mainly because you were shocked logan suggested it at all. logan, someone who was willing and has gotten into fistfights with other men for so much as looking at you wrong, was suggesting that you have sex with another man. not just any man, scott summers whom he’s been openly fantasizing about punting into a nearby lake. he didn’t need to ask if you’re attracted to him because he already knows that he matches your type like a textbook. he’s seen your exes before, mostly brunettes with blue eyes, under six feet tall, with almost puppy-like personalities when it came to you. it matches summers perfectly.

“see, i told you that you would like it.”

“there’s no way,” he said in disbelief, “there’s no way, you’re testing me and are going to kill me when i fail.”

“there’s no catch! i’m just trying to be nice. you know what they say, sharing is caring, or whatever.” logan realized how unbelievable he sounded at the moment, so he quickly moved on from his motivations straight to the chase, “you know she got all dressed up for you, bought a new outfit and everything. so are you gonna fuck her, or are you going to leave her hanging? ”

it took scott a second to process the entire situation, and he was trying not to make it obvious how excited he was by essentially jumping you. as he seated himself on the bed, you reached out to cup his face with your hand and pulled him in for a tender kiss. he’s clearly nervous, anyone would be, but after a moment of hesitation, he gave in, and his hands began to wander over every inch of exposed skin visible to him. you’re softer than clouds and sweeter than cotton candy, it made him wonder if his teeth would start rotting if he let himself indulge too deeply.

before he could lower himself to kiss your neck and go any further, he became increasingly aware of the wolverine’s presence and his intense gaze watching both of you, “are you going to join or just sit there and watch or…”

“i’ll just watch,” he gruffed, settling himself in a nearby loveseat. “i don’t think you want me to outperform you.”

scott bit the inside of his cheek, choosing to overlook the subtle insult and making up his mind to prove him wrong. trying his best to ignore the man, he continued to kiss you until your plush lips were almost swelling and bruised, knowing that this would probably be the last and only time he’ll be able to hold you in his arms like this as long as you were with logan. he didn’t want to be too rough with you, even if it was taking every ounce of his being not to sink his teeth into your tender flesh and ruin your unblemished skin with hickies all along your neck and chest.

his fingers trailed down your torso, undoing the ribbons of your lingerie and finally exposing your fully nude body to him. god, you’re so beautiful, like something straight out of a late-night fantasy. he wanted to take his time to care and worship you, to treat you delicately like you were a frail marble statue of aphrodite that would crumble if he was too rough. the pads of his thumbs experimentally flicked against your sensitive nipples, listening to you let out a soft whine at the sensation before his mouth moved to take one in his mouth.

your nails grazed against his scalp as your fingers tangled with his locks, tugging on them gently when his other hand came up to pinch at the neglected one. it feels different from usual, obviously— you’re in bed with an entirely different man than the one who confessed to you on that moonlit night. scott feels so much more gentle, like how logan was with your first time together, feather-light touches and eyes constantly flickering over to yours to make sure you were alright before proceeding, but there was a hint of urgency and desperation in his actions as if he was trying to prove something.

contrary to what everyone else believes, you aren’t completely unaware of his feelings towards you. it would be difficult not to notice with how obvious he could be at times, but it was easier to pretend that you didn’t when you didn’t want to hurt him. he’s a nice guy, he really is, the type you could see yourself falling for in another timeline, but not this one.

that’s how it was, how it was supposed to be, but he’s in the one in bed with you, dipping his fingers into your needy heat and making you moan as he curls them into your sweet spot. your eyes open for the first time since you started, his head held low against your chest and the tips of his ears blushing a barely noticeable pink. your gaze trailed over to your boyfriend in the corner, the dark not obscuring him in shadows. it was impossible to know what he was thinking, if the possessive wolverine was regretting his decision with how silent he was even though his intense staring could be felt by both of you. one thing’s for sure though, he’s never one to skip a show, and if you strained your hearing just enough, you could hear his heavy breathing with a spit-slicked hand fisting his cock.

your entire body was enveloped in a feverish warmth as his index and middle moving in a scissoring motion that was stretching you out so sweetly, so soaked that the sound of the squelching was making you embarrassed as it dripped all over his hands and the fabric of the bedsheets below. all the while, he was pathetically rolling his hips into the mattress. he wasn’t thinking of his own pleasure at the moment, all he wanted was to get you off and make you cum around his fingers like he would occasionally dream of late at night.

his name feels so foreign on your lips when you cry it out followed by a swear, a little wrong, yet so right at the same time. the sight of you reaching your climax because of him, crystal tear droplets forming at the corner of your eyes and your head thrown back into the pillow as your thighs quiver around his waist— it was all too much for him, and he stilled as his own orgasm overcame him, shooting blanks in his underwear and leaving a barely noticeable wet patch. he swears his vision went completely white for a moment, struck by stars like a cartoon character would be.

while the two of you held each other close, logan couldn’t help but think that you could be a better match than he initially thought. maybe he’ll let this continue for a little while longer… but only after he joins and stakes his claim on you, just as a little reminder of who you really belong to.

request

Listen but I’d love to see you do a Logan x Reader x Scott threesome that let’s say… started from Logan knowing Scott has a crush on his girl 👀👀👀👀I wanna be sandwiched between them so bad it’s unreal and I want Scott to suck on my tits

#📜. her works #scott summers #scott summers x reader #scott summers smut #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #x men #x men x reader #x men smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut

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cherry-berry-candy · 1 year ago

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okay TLoRS complaints and nitpicks sorry folks

(ft. my headmate nyx cowriting lol)

yes i am 100% going to be overly critical but i feel like i can nitpick if im open about this being partially nitpicks. this episode has just been really sticking in our brain, so we found ourselves with a lot to say about it, especially as we rewatch it. this also slowly turned into me thinking "okay, truman show theory has to be real because i feel like things wouldn't be this Weird otherwise, there's no way it was just written this way"

OKAY i put a cut so i can justify how ungodly long this got 😭

why are we going to unit about this right now? what spurred this on? (this is a bit of a pattern this season, stories just kind of... starting. truman show fixes this, but otherwise...)

why is the immediate assumption that susan MUST be this exact susan related to the doctor? why is this so quickly accepted as fact? was the TARDIS anagram supposed to be enough justification? (maybe we're being overly critical here... i can see ruby having the immediate thought with TARDIS/susan, but even then i feel like im filling in gaps for the story just to justify that)

also, why are we also working on ruby's mystery mom right now? is there a reason outside of... we need to get involved with her story for the purpose of the narrative? (again there's some version of the truman show reveal that could explain this, but right this second...)

is there any reason for the "is there any chance they're... the same woman?"? like, we as the audience are assuming that these things are related, because they're the season arc. the show is nodding to the fact that we as the audience are assuming this. but why is morris making this assumption? (this is very much nitpicky i feel, but i cant help it! 13's era has made me a lot more vigilant to purely-for-the-plot lines)

does it make sense for rose to come with ruby for, like. any reason? 😭i mean, she needs to come with, so that carla can have the 20 second interaction that makes her decide to come to UNIT, but like... 😭??? they just met, and i like that they immediately vibe, but it's still weird, no? even when we get there, she's not even in any shots until she says the two lines that lead to carla going to UNIT. is this intentionally supposed to feel weird, is it just kind of awkward, or am i just being nitpicky again?

speaking of carla... it's so weird for me that she decides she's joining unit just because rose's mom is part of it?? especially since this decision is split second 20 seconds into the scene 😭and the music just reads so cheesy to me. it feels unearned with how little carla we've had this season, especially compared to rose tyler's family, martha's family, donna's family.... okay just the RTD families tbh LOL, but those are the only families who were ever directly involved in the Major plot points. (again, maybe truman show reveal retroactively fixes this- well of COURSE she thought she needed to join unit, that needed to happen for the plot to happen, wink!)

"do you think it's her?" wait. okay, so... we're not working under the assumption that she is already? when did that change? 😭we were full in on "well yeah, that's who she is!" to "are you sure she is?" to "she is, you should go say hi!" (though... rewatching it seems like it's mostly ruby who sticks to this assumption? but no one ever like... denies the assumption or throws doubt on it until kate briefly thinks it, before quickly going back to the assumption. idk, am i reading this wrong?)

wait, we... already knew susan triad was human? we did??? why and how did we already know that what 😭 (edit: we misunderstood a line from earlier! for whatever reason, we thought "no alien traces" referred to her technology- turns out it actually refers to her biology! oops!)

kind of going out of order now but who the hell is this UNIT guy. not the one who dies, the other one (looked it up, Ibrahim!) it's because he's going to be a main character in the inevitable UNIT spinoff, right? like there's literally no other reason to name him? lol 😭

goes doubly for the vlinx. we don't know what it is, but we just really don't like him. we can't put it properly into words, it's just weird that he exists 😭he does nothing for me he's just supposed to be this Sick Epic robot UNIT has for some reason. feels very kids show sci-fi. i guess it's a family show, but we'd been doing fine as a family show without this kind of thing, correct us if we're wrong

aren't we, like. incredibly concerned about susan twist? no offense ruby, but i feel like finding your mom should be a little lower on the priority list here! the doctor prioritizing his companion makes sense but... morris and kate? why are they just cool with this detour? there's just no protest at the doctor sidelining the susan stuff? not to mention it makes the episode feel kind of weird pacing-wise.

"but what happened? what happened on that night?" oh yeah, carla's in the room! im so sorry but carla being here really doesn't feel like it adds much to the scene 😭this question could have been asked by literally anyone, and the delivery doesn't exactly help how i feel about it. everyone else has a verbal reaction to the time window, but carla (well, and ibrahim) are just kind of... in the room about it. until this line, that is. (her next line makes me feel a bit better about her inclusion though, actually a character moment instead of an expositional question! but still... how much would've been lost without her, especially with the flimsy reason for her coming?)

okay no seriously why is ibrahim introduced like he's a character and then get not a single piece of dialogue in this scene

"i know its name... its the beast!" does have some greater significance, especially considering the impossible planet and the beast below- shared VA and satan and all that- i feel like carla being the one person otherwise disconnected from this UNIT/alien stuff does make this line make sense for specifically her. so maybe i really am being harsh on her inclusion at UNIT.

hmmm then again, chidozie makes the connection by mentioning being "in hell", so im still not entirely sold? especially when this connection will probably not be that important- it just adds fun extra context... right?

"i think susan triad is a part of it" okay but seriously where is this connection coming from. like she is a part of it, but why is this the assumption we made? (maybe this is the doctor making an excuse to be selfish, and it's on me for taking him at his word?)

yeah okay if i didn't know what sutekh was, the way this reveal was handled would really do nothing for me 😭like to make the direct comparison to professor yana (especially with the sue tech screen stuff and the typing of "yana", i feel the comparison makes sense... hm especially with the master vainglorious playing... okay tv theory shut up for a second) the master is a recurring villain. not only that, but there are implications that we can gather from the rest of the episode, and the rest of the season. there's a big deal made about the doctor being the last of the time lords, and speaking so highly of them. and then, when he learns he's not alone, he's actually afraid. he's dreading it. it also helps that "the master" is such a similar name to "the doctor", so all this gives us the implication that this is something like an evil doctor. really all the info you need for this reveal. and then, the reveal is even BETTER for people who actually know the master already. sutekh had only showed up once- so folks who didn't watch classic who have a lot less reason to know about them. not only that, but there's not really any, like... themes or anything that show up this season, right? like, the doctor is scared of him, but yeah, he's like. superdeath or something. there were a lot of... triangles! this season! that's something i guess 😭and we didn't really have the context until now that sutekh is part of the pantheon, from what i understand? it just doesn't feel like there's really anything significant to connect sutekh to... anything. kinda losing steam because a billion other people have pointed this out already, but. yeah, it just doesn't hit that hard.

anyway, feel free to yell at me or disagree or what have you! im totally willing to be that i missed something, or overanalyzed something, or was overly critical, or just said something weird because our sleep schedule has been terrible LOL, but i wanted to put a lot of these things down

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers

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livealittleoc-cb · 2 years ago

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:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: The Avatar of Wrath

⋆｡°✩ Biblical name: Satan

⋆｡°✩ Human Name: Rhys Hughes

⋆｡°✩ All sins are contained into the Underworld unless with their guardian, given special permission from a deity of the underworld or have someone outside of hell to take care of them

⋆｡°✩ Wrath is not to be trusted if seen alone && without his muzzle && chains!! He displays psychotic behavior && should not be allowed without his muzzle && chains or with any weapons!! HE IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS && WILL NOT HESITATE TO HURT ANYONE WHO DISRESPECTS HIM, KEEP MUZZLE ON AT ALL COSTS!!! [please take this into consideration when interacting!]

⋆｡°✩ Just like other supernaturals/gods/etc. the sins have a human form if allowed to walk on Earth/Human Realm

⋆｡°✩ In "human" form is from Cardiff, Wales, in Astria he's from Uscary

⋆｡°✩ He/They | Bisexual, Poly | 23 [Human Years], is actually about 1,000+ years | 10/23 [Libra] | 6'6"

⋆｡°✩He is:

cold

straightforward

does not take shit from no one

blunt

angry half the time

sarcastic

is a little shit

Demon, Hybrid, Animal && Human Forms/Sin Info

⋆｡°✩ was prince of the 5th Circle [Anger]

⋆｡°✩ contained into the form of a Giant Eurasian Wolf

⋆｡°✩ in his demon form he is 7'6", has no wings, two set of curled black ram horns on his forehead && the side of his head, his ears are pointed && wears 19 mm guages/plugs, black wolf like claws, he has 2 long wolf like tails, one is black && the other is dark red with [12 ft/ 366 cm], his legs are similar in shape to wolf legs, his tongue is long [4 ft/ 122 cm long], has 1 set of sharp canines, his eyes are a bloody red with the whites of his left eye being inky black, his crown would sit on his head when he was prince [rubies with a black crown with black chains], he typically wears all black, typically seen with a black corset with bloody red roses, black dress pants, black dress up shirt && black dress shoes, always wearing a black muzzle && black chains

⋆｡°✩ is similar to a hell hound

⋆｡°✩ in hybrid form [wolf] he has black wolf ears on the top of his head, black wolf claws && fluffy wolf tail [there is dark red streaks in his fur]

⋆｡°✩ in human form his skin is pale, has tattooes on his arms && chest, wears a lot of black && dark reds, wears a lot of rings, braclets && necklaces, is allowed his favorite silver engraved dagger [is always kept blunt && in a special place, NOT ALLOWED TO BE SHARPENED!!], his eyes are black with one constantly turning dark red, nails are kept blunt && are painted black [gluttony does it for him], always has his muzzle && chains on

⋆｡°✩ his ears are extremely sensetive, DO NOT TOUCH UNLESS CLOSE!!

⋆｡°✩ when angered he growls lowly before attacking, be careful

⋆｡°✩ Resides: District 5 [former], District 1 [current]

⋆｡°✩ Languages: As a demon speaks all languages, focuses on Welsh && English, can speak in tongues

⋆｡°✩ Representative Colors: Black, Dark Red

⋆｡°✩ Guardian: Hades [Greek God of the Dead]

⋆｡°✩ Guardian Mark: A bite mark on his shoulder

⋆｡°✩ Curse: N/A

⋆｡°✩ likes: knives, guns, blood, napping, cursing, yelling, cigarettes, piercings, cherries

⋆｡°✩ dislikes: his muzzle, being told what to do, being told no, bright colors

Powers

super strength

iron jaw [can bit down on you && have an iron grip, will not let go]

can cause mass anger in others

can turn into your worst fears [can tap into your mind && gain this info]

NSFW

⋆｡°✩ a switch, heavy hard dom lean [bit of a bratty sub]; some of his kinks are marking [receiving && giving], collaring [receiving && giving], pet play, breeding [giving], size kink, public, impact play [receiving && giving], praise [receiving && giving], hair pulling [giving && receiving], orgasam control [receiving && giving, oral [receiving && giving], free use [giving && receiving], humilation [giving && receiving], choking [giving && receiving], bdsm [most elements], double penetration [giving && receiving], overstim [giving && receiving], cnc [must be spoken about before hand], primal, degradation, recording/being recorded, exabitionist, voyeurism, burning [giving && receiving], wax play [giving && receiving]

⋆｡°✩ hard nos: feet, watersports, wasteplay

⋆｡°✩ he prefers harder kinks but will not force this on his partner[s], does also like softer kinks

⋆｡°✩ the whites of his eyes turn dark red if he is arroused

⋆｡°✩ safe word: cherry stem

⋆｡°✩ uses 🍒 or 🖤 on dash

Relationship Statuses

⋆｡°✩ in the underworld && setting things on fire

⋆｡°✩ single [0/3-4]; uninterested

⋆｡°✩ friends: Gluttony/Beelzebul [little bear 🧸], Lust/Asmodeus [fuck buddy 🤤]

Tags

⋆｡°✩ relationship tag(s):

⋆｡°✩ friend tag(s):

⋆｡°✩ music tag(s):

⋆｡°✩ inspo tag(s):

⋆｡°✩ other tag(s):

faceclaim: @/milessdespair on ig

#🍒wrath.txt #🖤satan.txt #profile.txt

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ghoestys · 4 years ago

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ruby o. im, member of the yale’s elite

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ she puts angels to shame — ISMS⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ looked like milk and honey would flow out of her — GRAPHICS⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ i could swear i heard our souls whisper ever so quietly — DIALOGUE⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a little taste of heaven — IMESSAGE⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a glimpse of bliss — PHONE CALL⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ soft like spring flowers and sunsets — SOCIAL MEDIA⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ her hands are soft and her eyes shine in the sun — VISUAL⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ bet she has flowers growing between her ribs — MEME⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ft. name — INTERACTIONS & RUBY⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ft. name — DYNAMICS & RUBY⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ft. name — MEMES & RUBY⌋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ft. name — 00⌋

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inkykeiji · 4 years ago

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hope you don’t stop running to me, cause i’ll always be waiting

character: dabi | todoroki touya - raver!dabi

genre: extremely sentimental fluff + smut with a sprinkle of angst

notes: okay so essentially, this is raver!dabi, but like the piece isn't really focused around that. the piece is about this all encompassing, ravenous love the reader feels for him, and it really borders on unhealthy obsession; it's about how he's the happiest she ever sees him at raves, but it's bittersweet because he's so fucking high, and it kind of contrasts his love for raves and drugs with her love for him | title cred: cinema by benny benassi ft. skrillex and gary go

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, size difference, drugs, obsessive unhealthy relationship, extreme codependency, manipulation if u squint, minimal prep, a sprinkle of degradation

words: 6k

synopsis:

And he’s so fucking breathtaking—striking sapphires and stunning smile more spectacular than any piece of art you’ve ever seen, the combined melody of deep grunts and trembling groans rattling around behind his ribs better than any piece of music you’ve ever heard, endless words streaming from his swollen ruby lips lovelier than any piece of fine literature you’ve ever read.

He’s walking art, talking art, living, breathing, feeling art—and he’s all yours.

There’s nothing he loves more, no where he feels more at home, more at ease, more himself, than at a rave, you’re absolutely sure of it.

He sniffs them out like a hound, manages to find them no matter what city or country he’s in; loves them indiscriminately, regardless of how big or small they are; and drags you to each one he attends. Because he’s addicted to every single thing about them—irrevocably hooked on the pounding music that throbs like a beating heart, the marvelous colours that sear through the venue like vibrant flares of blood, the pretty pills and dazzling tabs and soft, soft powder—it all turns the party into a living entity, breathes life into the crowd, intoxicates him like nothing he’s ever felt before; and he’ll never be able to get enough of them, enough of how they make him feel, how they make him forget.

But he wants you there with him every time.

Sometimes, he’s hauling you into dingy basements full of wispy smoke and blaring speakers, staticky as they thrash out beats over a crowd, atmosphere saturated with sweat and the sickly sweet smell of hard candies. Others, he’s pulling you along on a lush field or cracked concrete tainted with brilliant flashes of crimson and violet, through thousands and thousands of people adorned in spiky fur and holographic latex until he finds the stage he’s looking for.

You don’t mind, though, unbothered by the pulsing music and the glistening crowds. You don’t mind, because this is your only chance to get these fleeting little glimpses of what true, pure happiness looks like on him—and you’re fucking addicted to it.

This weekend it happens to be a two-day-long EDM festival, set up far away from society in a large grassy meadow, embellished with wildflowers that dot the tangled jade strands with pops of pastel pinks and yellows and ivories—and it’s enchanting, whimsical, almost surreal in a sense. You can feel it, the atmosphere that drapes the masses of people scattered across the rolling hills, an energy unlike any other that envelops the patrons and lulls them into a state of soothing bliss.

He loves it. You love him.

And you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to accurately explain what the feeling of accompanying him to a rave is like; you don’t think the words even exist—the essence and aura, the feelings that swirl around in your chest, fuzzy and fluttery and fierce, transcending any and all languages. Because they’re something bigger, something better—they’re something higher, something stronger, something more than any word could ever describe.

No, there’s no way to define it, to portray it, nothing to encapsulate or summarize it, the genuine happiness that encompasses him, the way his pinched and stern features finally, finally relax, a special, gentle type of carefreeness seeping through the permanent mask of trepidation irrevocably sown into his strong face. It’s beautiful, mesmerizing to watch as they morph, the way his lips transform before your very eyes, from a firm, thin line into a loose, easygoing grin, sharp eyes liquefying as his lids droop a little, thin ring of sapphire outlining gaping onyx pupils, voracious in the way they observe, inhale, devour everything, blown and massive from whatever he’s high on—E or coke or acid; possibly a mixture of all three. You aren’t allowed to have any, of course, but it’s okay.

It’s okay, because as cheesy and stupid as it sounds, you’re high off of him—off his smell, spicy cinnamon and sweet campfire, laced with just a hint of Marlboros; off his taste, mint and smoke and sugar; off his touch, large hands caressing the natural curves and contours of your body, calloused fingertips rough and ragged as they drag across your soft flesh, skin pebbling with each graze.

It’s intoxicating, the way it invades your senses, overwhelms your receptors and has you yearning for more. It’s dumbfounding, the way your mind goes numb with him, infused with thoughts of DabiDabiDabi as he seeps and soaks and stitches himself into the tissues of your brain.

And you’ve never seen him more content than he is here, high out of his mind and entirely absorbed in the music, embraced in it like it’s a protective blanket, like it’s the arms of an old, treasured friend, like it’s home. Bitter acid creeps up your throat, blends with his saccharine spit ever-present and saturating your tongue, the thought that he’s only truly, genuinely, substantially happy when he’s high off his ass at a festival procuring a muted, blunt ache in the middle of your chest, dull blades that dig and burrow into your beating heart, shoved a little deeper with each bubble of laughter that escapes his lips.

Nevertheless, you can’t ever bring yourself to put an end to it, no matter how much it hurts him, hurts you both, because he looks so lovely, so elated—and you just can’t bear to take that from him, to take that from yourself.

Because he’s so fucking pretty like this, hair undone, careless and free as fluffy tufts of black bounce and sway with his movements, sticking to his temples and his neck—and he almost looks soft like this, strands of onyx hanging in his eyes and curling around his ears. Because happiness looks so good on him, so gorgeous on him, with those bright smiles that span his face, across his cheeks from ear to ear, and those stunning sapphire irises that glow with pleasure, contentment, bliss��and you wish, wish so desperately that you got to see it more often, that you had the chance to experience it without the drugs steadily coursing through his system, that they weren’t necessary, mandatory, in manufacturing these emotions.

But you’ll take what you can get. And he will, too—because you both love watching, both love feeling him this ecstatic, this relaxed, all his anguish and trauma forgotten, those chains that shackle him, that weigh him down and confine him, disintegrated by the synthetic emotions, burnt to ash just for a night or two.

And so, you aid, you help, you enable—because while you’ll take what you can get, you can’t ever get enough, either, eyes wide and unblinking as they place a pretty pink tablet stamped with a heart on his tongue, entranced by the way his lips close around your fingers and suck. And it’s so fucking hot, a rush of warmth flooding between your thighs and furling tightly in your belly. His eyes are shining as he stares at you, stuffed full of so much love it nearly hurts, and you want, you want, you want.

It isn’t long before drug induced euphoria is rushing through his veins and colliding with the constant, steady bass oozing from the speakers, vibrations travelling through the grassy earth beneath him until they reach his feet and flood his body. He tells you he can feel it in his chest, in his heart, in his very soul, seeping into his bloodstream like the sweetest poison, forcing a pleasant buzz through his limbs.

And it’s the best—it’s better than anything he’s ever felt, anything you’ve ever felt, hands roaming across bodies as music pours from the mammoth speakers, tracing soft lines and hard edges, fingers committing them to memory through touch alone; foreheads knocking together as he giggles into your mouth, as you suck his laughter from him and let it bloom in your chest, bright and buzzing and full of him, so full you feel as though you may burst; tongues dragging against one another as you both lick either side of a heart-shaped lollipop, sticky crimson candy sparkling in the waning sunlight, before he pushes his gum into your mouth, endless huffs of amusement spilling from one throat into another as you pass it back and forth—a game of sorts—smiling into the messy, slippery kisses, lips sliding and slurping and sucking.

Colourful beads embellish his arms, slender wrists and sculpted forearms peaking through the gaps, plastic droplets smacking together delicately with his movements. The brilliant colours are vibrant in contrast to his smooth skin, ivory tainted gold by the August sun, to later be painted by the lively splotches of aquamarine and lilac and lime and fuchsia as the lights dance through the night sky, spraying across the crowd.

His body glistens under the setting sun, varnished in a thin layer of sweat, gleaming droplets decorating his skin, catching in the beams and glittering like tiny diamonds. Strands of inky hair cling to his neck and white cotton hugs his torso, outlining the firm muscles of his back, the plains and contours that glide almost gracefully under scarred skin and soft fabric with each of his movements.

He’s a horrible dancer; truly, but he makes you giggle—which makes him giggle, large hands finding your waist and tugging you towards him, forehead bowed to yours again as he stares at you, cavernous pupils flitting from each of your features—your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth—with his lips slightly parted, as if he’s in awe. Tiny thumbs run over his clammy cheekbones, and his eyes close briefly with the motion, body swaying a little as he leans into you, further pressing his forehead into yours. His molars are grinding again, you can feel it, the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his jaw under soft, tender palms, and you tsk softly.

“You need another lollipop, Daddy,” you tell him, and although you’re practically shouting over the music, it feels like your whispering, wisps of your adoring voice caressing his skin, curling around him and sopping into his flesh, warming him to the core of his soul. Little fingers are pressing into the hinges of his jaw as you speak, their gentle touch instantly diffusing the tension, and he nods.

The whine that catches in his throat when you pull away is one of the sweetest, most valuable sounds you’ve ever heard, and it makes your chest flutter, eyes flicking up to look at him through your lashes with a beaming smile. He’s still leaning towards you, slowly falling forward, a magnet drawn to magnetite, and you love it, you love it, you love it.

“You look so fucking cute in your tutu, princess,” he’s chuckling as you root through your tiny bag for more candy. And you can tell he really means it, a dopey smile decorating his face, eyes shimmering with mirth, with drugs, with love.

A giggle slips past your lips, hands smooth down the tufts of tulle adorning your waist as you shyly murmur your thanks, his own smile growing. Lidded sapphires float around your body, slow and belated as they take inventory, words unhurried and sluggish as they tumble from his mouth.

“I-I should…Uh, I should put some sunscreen on my baby, sh-shouldn’t I? Don’t want your shoulders or that pretty face of yers to burn, y’know,”

You really don’t need to—the sun’s sunk halfway below the horizon by now—but you indulge him anyway, would never be able to deny him a fucking thing.

It’s fumbling, clumsy and messy in his inebriated state, but it’s still so cute, so considerate, so caring, rough hands slathering the thick cream across your skin, rubbing in awkward, blundering circles—and it sends sizzling sparks shooting through your bloodstream, alighting your entire body with a blaze that is so specifically him.

The sky turns from coral to navy all at once, and then you’re clasping onto him tightly, hugging your body to his as hands roam, as fingers tangle and tug and tow, as lips latch and lick. Salt mixes with his usual taste, tongue tingling with it as it laps at the dips of his collarbones. The sharp smell of sugar stings your nose, and you inhale deeply, face nuzzling against his damp neck. He smells sweet, like sunshine and burning hickory wood, like a summer breeze grazing freshly washed linen, carrying with it a sprinkle of cinnamon.

And you can’t stop, powerless to your urges and void of all control as you nibble at the column of his throat, as you suck the prettiest galaxies of violet and periwinkle into his flesh, as the tip of your tongue traces the jutting bones at the base of his neck, over and over and over again until they’re saturated in thick layers of your gleaming spit.

Because he’s fucking delicious, and it’s never enough—will never be enough, regardless of if you spend hours kissing, until your lungs are burning and your jaw is aching and your mouths and chins and cheeks are coated in each other’s sticky saliva.

Because you’re fucking greedy, needy, hungry, limitless in how much you desire, more and more and more.

Because even when he’s pounding into you, it still isn’t ever enough. You want to consume him the way he consumes those pretty little tablets, want to breathe him in and hold him in your chest, in your heart, in your soul, forever. Not all of him, you promise, you swear, you’ll settle with just a piece—just a piece you can carry around everywhere with you, always. It’s the worst addiction you’ve ever suffered, it’s the sweetest heaven you’ve ever felt, it’s the only semblance of home you’ve ever known—you’ll keep chasing that high he gives you forever, keep chasing him as he chases drugs, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

And eventually, eventually it becomes too much to bear, just as it does every single night, this seething desire that roars and rumbles within you, rattling the cage of your ribs as it demands more. Eventually, it has you yanking on his arm, both hands clasped around one of his, shrill begs and pleads beginning to claw their way up your throat.

Strong hands manhandle you against him, a thick thigh slotting between your own, and you whimper, burying your face against his neck. With such a large crowd, and such thunderous music, and so many people higher than the clouds, no one can tell what you’re doing; no one can tell how naughty you’re being.

He knows exactly what you need, exactly what’s got you so restless, pressing his muscled thigh into your core and chuckling at the instant moan it procures.

“Daddy,” you mewl loudly against his ear, curled fingers giving another tug on his t-shirt, cunt already grinding steadily against his thigh. “I need you,”

He snickers, the sound vibrating against you, head tilting curiously and lips molding into a cocky smirk. “You need what, baby?”

And the whine that breaks in your chest is absolutely pathetic, bottom lip jutted out into a deep pout, grinding against his thigh becoming more erratic, more urgent. You hate that he’s gonna make you say it, face crumpled up in adorable irritation—his favourite expression on you, you’re sure, his smirk growing into a grin as a growl rumbles in your chest.

“Your cock,” shimmering eyes, glazed with want that reflects the flashing lights in their glassiness, stare up at him, blinking twice in enticement. “Please?”

He hums in thought as he pretends to think, to consider, as if his leg isn’t pressing further and further into your core as you aimlessly hump it, as if his cock isn’t already hard and pressed up against your hip and throbbing through his jeans, as if he isn’t grinding against you in infinitesimal motions, little gyrations of his hips that almost feel subconscious instead of intentional—as if he can’t help himself.

“Daddy!” you squeal, barely audible over the heavy bass, eyebrows scrunched in the way they always do when you don’t get what you want. “Now!”

Normally, if he wasn’t higher than the full moon hanging in the sky and flickering stars scattered in uneven clusters around it, such a bratty request would’ve earned you a hefty punishment—something that would’ve left your skin raw, cunt abused, and completely unsatisfied—because bad girls don’t get to cum, now, do they?

But tonight it only makes him laugh harder, cooing about how fucking cute you get when you’re all needy like this, like it’s the most endearing thing he’s ever witnessed, cobalt eyes shining with delight and adoration as he laces his fingers through yours, pulling you along behind him as he weaves in and out of the sea of bodies.

But the car’s too far, you’re whining as you trail behind him, a deep pout carved into your face, eyebrows knitted so firmly they weave creases into your forehead. I can’t wait, Daddy, I can’t wait!

And it’s true—you can’t wait any longer, you need him inside of you this very instant or you’ll fucking combust—a deprived addict vying for their favourite vice; a raving, ravenous fire that burns bright and blistering in the pit of your tummy, constantly starved for him.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, this intense, insatiable craving; one that has your thighs clenching so tightly it’s painful, that burns through your veins and scalds the insides of your stomach, that has your blood bubbling and nerves buzzing, whole body feeling electric in his presence.

It’s a gnawing urgency, one that tears at the pit of your belly and roars in your chest, filling your ribcage until it feels like it’s about to burst, until it has you choking on botched gasps of air and his name, nails digging into his hand as you tug on his arm, pleading, begging, needing.

It’s going to devour you from the inside out if you don’t get what you want soon, if it isn’t fed with what it wants soon, expletive filth spilling from your lips in frenzied little huffs as Dabi tries in vain to drag you to the car—please, Daddy, I feel like I’m gonna die, need your cock, Daddy, need it right now, right now, right now, fill me with your cum, Daddy, I’m so empty without it; warm me with your cum, Daddy, please, please, pretty please, I can’t wait!

Such sentiments, woven together between threads of high whines and broken gasps, evoke a dark snarl ripping through his chest, his true persona cutting through the manufactured euphoria for just a moment—and then you see him, you see your Daddy, you see your home, blazing in his glassy eyes as he whirls around on you and crashes his lips to yours, large hands splayed on either side of your face, nimble fingers gripping your head so tightly it hurts.

But the pressure is welcomed, little hands pawing at his thick belt again, pathetic and desirous, and the sheer force has you stumbling backwards, feet catching on your own ankles as the two of you tumble to the ground.

“You are such a fucking brat, y’know that?” he’s nearly moaning between kisses, lips never leaving yours as he spits the words into your mouth, hips snuggling into their favourite spot between your thighs.

“You love it,”

“A spoiled little bitch,”

“Y-Your fault,” you giggle into his mouth, a large palm colliding with your ass half a second later, knocking a yelp from your throat, a pitiful little squeak that he readily swallows down.

Calloused fingers twist in the lace of your panties and he yanks, holes materializing in the delicate fabric, lithe digits hooking through them and unceremoniously jerking the ruined remains down your thighs. It’s graceless, movements inept and cumbersome in his attempt to remove them from your body, stubbornly refusing to break your kiss, hovering body supported by one hand and his knees. The material finally snaps, fingers tearing through it, like fire blazing through intricate spider webs. A whine catches in your throat and he laughs darkly, tongue lapping at your neck, your jaw, your mouth itself, drenching you in sugar-infused saliva.

Lips part immediately, eagerly, ready to greet his tongue with your own, and he huffs another chuckle into you, breath scorching as it floods the cavern of your mouth, and God, he’s got himself such a good girl, such a good slut, doesn’t he?

The words are mumbled out, slick lips gliding against yours, a little slurred and stuffed full of sticky spit as massive, rough hands run up your thighs, grabbing healthy handfuls of your flesh and squeezing.

A sharp gasp escapes from your throat, hips instinctively bucking against his from the sudden pain, and he laughs, deep and sinister and reverberating against his ribcage.

You can feel the dull thud of the music in the distance, bass burrowing its way into your chest, pulsating beat slithering through the pliant earth and oozing up through the dirt against your back. Magnificent glows of azure and amethyst blanket the festival in their embrace, bleeding into one another before they morph into and emerald and magenta, haloing the grounds and all of its inhabitants.

But all of those colours, the almost ethereal beauty of the party itself, is nothing compared to the sapphire gazing down at you, the ivory skin that almost glows against the grass and the pines and the night sky, the fluffy onyx tufts your fingers tangle in.

Teeth sink into his plush, scarred bottom lip and you suck harshly, taking it into your mouth, the tip of your tongue toying with it, laving over the supple flesh and dousing it in your saliva. A snarl clatters around in his mouth as he pulls his lip from between yours, teeth scraping against it in the process.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you’re chanting, muffled by his mouth, muddled by his tongue as it aggressively pushes against yours. “Need’a, need’a,”

The words snag in your throat, evaporating into ghosts of the sentences they were supposed to be, fading into pathetically breathy moans.

And it’s hard to think, when you’re like this, when you’re ensnared in him, consumed by his touch and smell and taste, tongue shoved so far down your throat you’re choking on it, brain gone numb—dumb—from it all, incapable of knitting together words and forming a sentence. Instead, your hand snakes between your bodies to cup his cock, a loud moan hitching in his chest as he immediately grinds against your touch.

“Want,” you mumble, groping at him and forcing a whimper from his chest. “Now, now, now,”

“So fucking needy,” he’s teasing, none of his usually heat to his voice, peppered with moans and the sweetest giggles as he rests his forehead against yours. Reaching down, two slender fingers prod your hole, giggles fading into groans as his eyes shut. “Soaked, huh?” he asks, voice strained, your head nodding almost ferociously in response. “Always drenched for me, aren’t you, my babygirl,”

But you’re too impatient to be properly prepped, to be thoroughly stretched out, impetuous legs kicking and squirming from underneath him, whining and pleading for him to just fuck you already!

They’re uncontainable, the words barreling past your lips, high and cracked and rapacious as you beg—beg for him to fill you up, to make you feel whole again, to stretch and shred and slash you to pieces, to put you back together, part by painstaking part, to complete you.

And he’s practically keening at the sentiments, hips rutting ungracefully against your soft palm, cock twitching through the denim of his jeans.

“Alright, baby, alright,” he’s hushing you, words slurred, heavy and unhurried despite his frantic actions. “Daddy’ll give you what’ya need,”

“Wanna ride,” you nearly wail, little fingers clawing desperately at his broad shoulders, fingertips sinking into his flesh through the thin cotton.

“Ch-Christ,” he nearly chokes on the curse, head nodding in choppy movements as he allows you to push the two of you over.

Because, well, baby gets what baby wants.

Or, at least, that’s what he’s telling you as you straddle him, lilt void of its normal derision, replaced with a kind of admiration.

Nails dig into the toned, smooth planes of his chest as you sink down on him, an involuntary hiss escaping gritted teeth, features scrunching in a cute wince. A hitched expletive escapes his throat, lidded eyes falling shut as his head lolls to the side, angular jaw on display.

The stretch is a welcome one, feels like home, so familiar it’s almost comforting, little cunt throbbing as you split yourself open on his cock.

Cool, refreshing air rushes into your lungs the moment he bottoms out, cockhead pressed snugly against your cervix, and that ache, that addiction, that animal tethered to the very core of your soul is immediately satiated, immense pressure deflating and the strain on your ribs easing up.

It feels perfect, feels right, feels whole, and suddenly, you’re alive again, intense sparks shocking your system as they sear through your veins, invigorated and revitalized.

It doesn’t last long though—it never does.

Because you’re just as famished, just as voracious, just as avid as that entity birthed from obsession and addiction inside of you, satisfied only for a moment before you need more.

It isn’t slow, isn’t sweet or soft, because neither of you can take that right now, neither of you need that right now. And the very moment he bottoms out, the minute you feel him nudging against your cervix, your hips begin to rock forward, rough hands finding their usual place on your hips, aiding you in your motions as he bucks up, falling into an instantaneous rhythm together

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he’s panting out, bleary eyes watching you as his words knot on his languid tongue. “Bounce on m’cock, princess, bounce on it,”

The earth is firm beneath your knees, but you can still feel those faint vibrations travelling though the dirt. Blades of grass tangle themselves in inky tufts as his head falls back, neck arching, jade strands in a sea of black.

He’s so much louder when he’s this high, deep guttural groans rumbling in his chest, broken whines catching in his throat, growled out curses tumbling from his saliva slicked lips. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin, and you long to lick it up.

“You always look so pretty, s-so perfect taking my cock,” he’s babbling, voice soaked in awe, pupils blown and shimmering as they gobble up your reactions, your expressions—every little sound emitted from your throat, ripped raw and wrecked from the column; every little twitch of your features, the way your lashes flutter and eyes roll back with each roll of his hips; every little shake and shiver and shudder, tiny jolts of electricity, of him, exploding through your veins—calloused hands sliding up and down your thighs in a clumsy caress. “F-Fuck, princess, so gorgeous,”

You should be quiet—really, you should both be quiet, fucking in an open field and committing such a heinous act of public indecency.

But you’re powerless to stop the mewls and cries from prying past your lips, and he’s hopeless to quell the steady stream of words flowing from his own, increasing in pitch and frequency with each gyrate forward, with each rut and rub and grind of your hips.

“Feel good, Da-Daddy?”

And he’ll never understand how you sound so fucking sweet, so fucking precious, as obscene words flow from those pretty lips, punched out of your chest with each rock of your hips, core of your body intimately skewered by him.

He doesn’t answer, can’t answer, words dissolving into a fractured moan as he nods vigorously.

“Want you to cum, D-Daddy—ah—fill me up, please,”

The grin that splits his face is nothing short of spectacular—it’s nothing like those sharp smiles he gives his enemies, or those smug little grins he gifts his friends, or those tiny lopsided smirks that grace his lips when he’s teasing. No, this smile—this smile is only for you; a gentle quirk of his lips, parted just enough to see those gleaming pearly teeth, fluid as it stretches and wobbles with his ragged pants and snapping hips. It’s almost overwhelming, the emotion pouring from that single, simple action alone, has your chest stuttering and eyes blurring, knowing that this is something special, that this is something that is yours and yours alone. And this smile—this smile is genuine, true happiness. This smile cuts through all of the drugs and anguish and rage, shining bright and beautiful as it beams up at you.

He’s walking art, talking art, living, breathing, feeling art—and he’s all yours.

You’ll never get used to this, you swear to God. Such amazement will never cease, makes fucking him a religious experience every single time, always so astoundingly exquisite. You’ll never get used to the way those dark growls claw their way up his throat, vibrating in the column. You’ll never get used to the way your name sounds on his tongue when he’s just about to cum, all pitchy and broken and punctured by hitched breaths. You’ll never get used to the way his thick eyelashes flutter, unfocused eyes rolling in his skull just a little—never fully enough to hide that brilliant sapphire from you—right before he stuffs you full of hot sticky seed.

And you never want to.

—

This is your favourite part, has always been your favourite part, will always be your favourite part, every single time. It’s terribly selfish of you—you know it is, know it’s awful and greedy and so, so obsessive—but you love it, love it as much as he loves the drugs and the music and the ostentatious lights.

Because he clings to you when he’s coming down, nuzzles his face into your very touch, practically purrs out his admiration for you as you pat his damp face down with an old t-shirt, brushing back the stringy strands of sweat-drenched hair from his forehead.

Because you’re his protection when he’s coming down, swathing him in your love, in your gentle caresses and your tender venerations—his very own guardian angel, keeping him from plummeting into the concrete and shattering into a million pieces, cradling him in your soft wings as you ease his feet back onto this earth.

Usually it’s scary, he’s telling you that night in the backseat of his car, eyes still glazed, breathing slow and shallow. Or, it was. It was scary, coming down without you—but not anymore. Because you’re here now. You’re here with him, and you take such good care of him, and he loves you, he loves you so much, he loves you more than anything on this planet—or any others.

He used to feel nervous, he’s babbling on as tiny fingers press into tight, coiled muscles, rubbing the tension out of them in small circles. Used to have memories… he trails off then, and you don’t push, never push, just humming your acknowledgement softly, whispered affirmations falling from your lips as palms smooth over his cheeks before caressing his hair, pulling mewls from his throat as he arches into your touch.

Bleary sapphires stare up at you, glittering in the dim light flittering through his car windows from the flickering lamp posts. He’s tired, he tells you suddenly, face somber, sober, but he can’t sleep.

“I know,” you murmur, petting his hair again. “Just try to relax,”

He is trying, he promises, vigorously nodding up at you, eyes wide as if they’re imploring you to understand.

But words keep spilling from his mouth—involuntary, automatic, reflexive—unfocused eyes staring up at the roof, then darting around the car slowly, distractedly, like there’s a million other thoughts surging through his mind—you can see them, swimming in his eyes, tainted with paranoia, with fear, even though there’s a steady stream of presumably unrelated words flowing from his throat.

He talks about anything, everything, nothing—all at once. He tells you about the festival as if you weren’t there, and you let him ramble, unable to stifle the small smile that forms on your lips. Because it’s cute, and he’s still so excited. He tells you how pretty you look, tells you about how good you ride his cock, how irresistible your cunt is, how much he loves stuffing it with his cum.

And throughout it all you nod and hum and coo, just like you always do, just like you always will.

And it’s nights such as these, at four and five in the morning right before the sun begins to creep over the horizon, navy sky fading into a faint amber glow the only indication that it’s coming—that you are careless with your words, that you are more honest than ever before, because you know he won’t remember it—or, if he does, he won’t bring it up until he’s high like this again.

Because his being high provides this limbo, this purgatory for the both of you to be open and raw and vulnerable under the guise of drugs, with the knowledge that you can always backtrack, always claim not to remember or that you said no such thing, if you ever need to.

You don’t ever need to, but the option’s there nonetheless, like a buffer of sorts—a buffer for him to be raw and real, a buffer for you to be less cautious, to be more reckless and let the words stream from your lips without fear of consequence or punishment; a shield for both of you to use against such susceptibility.

It’s become an unspoken agreement between the two of you, a pass. And that’s what makes these nights the best.

And you will always consider yourself one of the lucky ones, one of the privileged few that are allowed, permitted, approved to experience him like this—to watch that well-worn mask of apathy melt from his face as drug-laced happiness bleeds and burns through it.

It hurts, sends sharp spears searing through your chest, embedding themselves in the depths of your fucking soul, because you can only imagine what true happiness would look like on him.

Maybe it would be too much, you want to trick yourself into believing, desperate to find excuses for the drugs and the artificial euphoria, to sanction this type of behaviour. Maybe he would be too beautiful, too bright, too brilliant if he were truly happy—maybe he would burn out too quickly, if he were too happy, like a shooting star that flies across the indigo sky, sparkling and sizzling and stark in it’s stunning, gorgeous and ethereal and much too short lived as it fizzles out into nothing, into darkness and emptiness, only a moment later—gone forever.

And you suppose, if that were to be the case, that you could selfishly accept this fate—if only to keep him here with you for just a little bit longer. You could help him shoulder the crushing weight of that torture, that agony, that suffering that he’s constantly carrying, spine straining under it, if it means that you get to be with him for more, for longer, for eternity. You could handle that, if it means you get to be greedy, if it means that you get to have him, on this earth, living and breathing and beside you.

Still, you hope, very much so, deep down at the bottom of your heart, that he will one day find that true, genuine, sincere happiness that he deserves—and that it will stick, not just for a moment, for a few fleeting seconds, but for a while, for forever.

He’s quiet when you tell him this. He probably won’t remember it come morning, too high to remember much of anything, but he’s so honest when he’s like this, fucked up out of his mind, and words leak from his lips without his permission as he tells you, grave and serious, that he has…in you.

And you suppose…You suppose he’s right; happiness isn’t exactly a person, or a place, or an object—happiness is a sentiment, an experience, a collection of memories, adventures, evocations.

“Happiness is...it’s when I’m with you,”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #bnha smut #todoroki touya #todoroki touya x reader #waaaAAAAAAAAH #ever so slightly nerve-wracking hahaha #this is EXTREMELY sentimental you have been WARNED #it's also supposed to feel almost suffocating or overwhelming #bcoz ur reader yk #okay ANYWAY ENJOY #tw drugs #tw toxic relationship #tw daddy kink

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aliyebalik · 3 months ago

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closed starter for @rubywritesrp out and about in tokyo, japan

There were few things in life that felt as good as waking up in another country did. After a long flight overseas with Ruby and a night to recover at the hotel, they had a full day ahead of them to explore the city before they moved further up north for their trip. When Ruby had texted her, there hadn't even been a moment of hesitation before she said yes. The logistics never mattered, Aliye always knew she could figure it out. Given that it was likely her last chance for a trip before she was off to film her next show, she knew she had to take it. Walking out of the front door of the hotel, Aliye was practically bouncing as she glanced over at Ruby with a grin. "So, where to first? Walk and talk vibes today or did you have anything specific planned?" she asked, happy to roll with anything that Ruby wanted to do. Aliye was never one to make plans when she travelled, usually just showing up and finding things to do once she got there.

#interactions #interactions ft. ruby little #thread 2 ft. ruby little

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warlordgab · 6 years ago

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Analysis of shipping: Revisiting detracting arguments

I know some people were expecting more content here, and I'm sorry for taking so long to put this thing together. This post will be a little different from the other analyses you’ve seen here...

It's no secret this blog is mainly about LuNa...

...and NaLu

And several post made here are meant to showcase how their respective stories build them up through consistent bonding; defend their position as potent relationships by means of evidence and logic; or both.

We know standing next to each other in the same panel or frame are not “moments” if the context and/or the story doesn’t turn them into a meaningful interaction.

We know a girl slapping a guy is not something inherently romantic, and it’s not a defining trait of a potent relationship, specially when context says otherwise.

We know that brief rescue scenes are not always the sign of a potential romance as there are several elements needed to turn them into actual moments for a pairing

But, there are some arguments that persist because shallow shippers think they give meaning to their premises, disprove the potential another pairing has, or both. This post will deconstruct a couple of those arguments used to argue against LuNa and NaLu's position as potent relationships in their respective stories.

1) Romantic pursuit Vs. Consistent bonding

I was going to call this one the “Touka Argument”, or Touka's Rhetoric. Naming it after FT's Touka...

...she seemed to be the embodiment of nearly everything shippers argue against relationships as LuNa and NaLu until we got a comedic plot-twist worthy of a trolling writer.

Still, the argument goes a little bit like this: any one-sided pursuit of romance should become part of the endgame pairing. It doesn't matter if the story doesn't take such "affection" seriously, it doesn't matter if it is meant to be a joke with little to no weight, all that matters is the character actively looking for romance while proclaiming “love.”

A character who appears much later in the storyline openly expressing "love" for the MC. Meanwhile the MC shares far more development with a romantically inactive girl.

Some shippers may argue that the girls or guys who are actually "in love" are the ones who will win their object of affection. Others may admit this is a extremely subjective matter as some of these girls end up winning, which makes it hard to analyze this stuff properly. But, there's one thing that helps people to keep an objective perspective: development

If we take a look at relationships like Gruvia from Fairy Tail, we get to see that their most powerful scenes are not the ones that involve the characters being all mushy over each other, but the moments of actual emotional significance; actual build-up...

...created by impactful moments

Some of Hiro Mashima's works prove he's aware that what truly matters in this particular regard is not how often a character makes claims of love, but how much development she or he has with a significant other.

What about Eiichiro Oda and his works? We got one notable example from the Whole Cake island arc

One sincere gesture of kindness from Sanji (the local pervert and Casanova wannabe) was enough for him to get to Pudding's heart...

...when he shattered the image she had of herself as monster with that gesture, and later an armor-piercing question, she ended up falling for him as he was the only person on that island that saw her true face and still deemed her as a beautiful woman instead of a monster. Sanji had such impactful moments with Pudding without going "horny" mode on her.

Other authors know that this kind development is needed for the logical progression in both good storytelling and decent characterization. They may not say it out loud, but their works speak for themselves while showing even characters who are not looking for romantic love can eventually develop such bonds.

Take a look at relationships like Kenshi and Kaoru from Rurōni Kenshin...

...they became an item, despite neither of them being romantically active, because they bonded over time, supporting and caring for each other, to the point of developing a much deeper connection. No over-the-top corny lines nor becoming all horny on each other; it was just consistent bonding, which ultimately triumphed.

It's shouldn't come as a surprise given the author of Rurōni Kenshin mentored Eiichiro Oda.

And to add it more to the irony, there was another girl interested in Kenshin who got a role much greater in the anime than the manga, and who was more mild-tempered, feminine, and seductive.

Another mangaka who understood this matter is Seishi Kishimoto, brother of Masashi Kishimoto (of Naruto fame), and author of O-parts Hunters.

The moments shared by the main characters led Ruby to become Jio's emotional support, and both of them to get emotionally attached to one another. Another girl was interested in Jio, but consistent bonding made Jio and Ruby's connection remain as a potent relationship... as well as some other plot points.

And of course, there's the critically-acclaimed Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood for anime-only watchers) by Hiromu Arakawa.

Edward and Winry. Two well-written characters who weren't romantically active before ending up together, yet their relationship and later upgrade made total sense... I could name Roy and Riza too, but that would be overkill.

The point is that it's not the romantic pursuit (or gag-like claims of "love") that makes or breaks a pairing; it's all about the moments that leave an impact along with shared experiences which give a strong companionship the potential for a relationship upgrade.

2) Every shonen story is the same story?

While this argument sounds ridiculous, it serves as an umbrella for several other claims some shippers may use.

A lot of anime fans know that most popular shonen stories, such as Dragon Ball, usually feature underdeveloped relationships. So, more often than not, shippers may claim or imply significant moments and actual development mean little to nothing in a shonen story. This reasoning can be easily mixed with the "romantic pursuit" argument.

Another related argument is the "informed attribute," which means you can off-screen the whole relationship and just let a character or narration "tell" you how a pairing happened instead of "showing" you how they developed. Basically, a violation of "show, don't tell."

While it's true several shonen stories share similar tropes, the more you examine each story, the easier it becomes to tell them apart.

Eiichiro Oda wrote a story that could easily fit the concept of "romance," as in a dramatic narrative treating themes such as heroism, idealism, mystery and adventure...

In fact, according to Sugita, a former One Piece editor, "Oda revealed that One Piece was something of a deliberate subversion of Dragon Ball through having a vastly more complex story and characters, while Dragon Ball is a manga infamous for its simplicity."

This is consistent to Oda's own statement: "I write ONE PIECE as dramatically as I can. If I had written a pure battle manga, it would have been easily defeated by Dragon Ball."

Given the amount of themes the series covered and the engaging emotional narrative, the argument of this story being the same as every other popular shonen doesn't hold up. The characters are all bound together as true companions not by a desire to become "stronger," but because they're "in love with adventure" as the author put it.

What about Fairy Tail? Hiro Mashima wrote a fantasy shonen series centered around thematics that are common in other shonen stories: Companionship and Family.

While some people already commented how the manga seems to have strong similarities with One Piece, Hiro Mashima had his own ideas when making the story. As he himself said once: "Usually a shonen manga starts with just a main character, who then slowly accumulates his or her allies as the story progresses. But in the world of Fairy Tail, everybody pretty much knows each other at the beginning. That was sort of what I was going for."

In another interview he even stated one of the thematic differences in relation to his previous work: "Rave Master was about friends saving the whole world, but Fairy Tail is about closer-knit relationships."

This is consistent with what we've seen in Fairy Tail, as the titular guild is all about that theme, how different people of several backgrounds are connected by intimate bonds and the search for exciting adventures.

What about the characters?

Both Eiichiro Oda and Hiro Mashima (just like many other mangakas) grew up watching and/or reading Dragon Ball. But, are their main characters Luffy...

...and Natsu...

...just mere replicas of Goku and other shonen heroes?

It's true that many authors follow the shonen hero archetype when writing the protagonist of a series. Both Luffy and Natsu are golden-hearted idiot heroes, and both of them have personalities that reflect the idea of "No Challenge equals No Satisfaction."

But, unlike Goku their ultimate aim is not all about following an endless cycle of self-improvement. At their core, both Luffy and Natsu are thrill-seekers who are constantly looking for fun and adventure.

Luffy is all about freedom, and even if he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, he can still display actual leadership qualities when the situation calls for it. Natsu, like some other of his guildmates, is a mischievous trouble-maker but still pretty much the embodiment of the values of Fairy Tail.

The more you examine both characters, the more differences you can find...

All of this is related to shipping mainly because people may claim "every shonen story is the same story" to justify pairings that do not have enough canon material supporting them.

So, if the hero and the heroine have a far more substantial development and actual chemistry, shippers who oppose such characters getting together may imply the following: "if several popular mangakas make their official couples with no regard for moments or build-up, why Oda or Mashima should be any different."

Because each author is different, and even if their stories use similar tropes from time to time, elements like themes, purpose, focus, plot, and characters will vary from writer to writer.

3) Anime Vs. Manga

'It's easier to watch a series than read a story'

Which is why whenever a manga gets an anime adaptation, if the story is good, its popularity rises.

However, sometimes the directors and writers of the anime do not share the same vision as the mangaka. And people who are up to date with both mediums can perceive such differences. Dragged out fights, OOC moments, inconsistencies with plot points from the source material, etc. are common place in some adaptations.

But, some directors and other staff members take some liberties to add "shipping fuel" according to their own views and taste.

I apologize in advance if this comparison offends someone, I’m just using it as an example. The anime adaptation of Bleach made by Studio Pierrot featured some ship tease...

Such scenes weren't written by Tite Kubo, the author of Bleach. And they could easily pass as something "romantic."

However, during an interview, one of Bleach's editors, Toya Taichi, stated that "in Kubo sensei’s mind, Orihime is the heroine character and Rukia is a comrade" and he later summed it up as "feeling like a pal" (相棒 in japanese).

When it comes to modern japanese storytelling, the term "heroine" (ヒロイン in japanese) is interchangeable with "love interest." Orihime herself was even present in the Shonen Jump heroines covers. But, people who take filler scenes as the real deal may think otherwise.

When it comes to Fairy Tail, A-1 Pictures did a decent job in adapting the story but they also added shipping fuel, small things like Gray following Lucy and getting teased by Happy for it, or the big things like the non-canon expansion of the flashbacks involving Lisanna, which some people still treat as the signs of endgame pairings.

People who watched this version before reading the manga are more prone to overhype relationships that have little to no supporting evidence from Mashima's works. Fortunately A-1 Pictures toned it down later, too bad some shippers never forget...

If we talk about One Piece, the story is very different to say the least. TOEI Animation didn't stop in this regard, as some people may recall I already posted several of the changes they made for the sake of ship tease, and unlike A-1 Pictures they keep going and going with the moments they keep adding being more and more blatantly shippy (specially with Nami and Sanji) as time goes on.

Since One Piece is very long-running manga, more and more people only watch the anime and they take all those additions as the real deal despite the heroine of this story sharing far more development and solid chemistry with the hero.

However, not every fan is into well-developed relationships, so not every manga-reader will go LuNa/NaLu. Same could be said about anime-only watchers, as not all of them are swayed by filler, so not all of them will disregard LuNa/NaLu if they like consistent bonding.

The point is that the anime adaptation has a strong influence in how the fans perceive the story, the characters, and the bonds they build. And not every anime adaptation presents a favorable image of the in-canon premises made by the mangaka.

Here’s a little bonus:

Who's the One Piece heroine according to Oda?

When talking about Strong World, the movie he wrote, Oda said “I really wanted to make a ‘hero saves the heroine’ story." A movie about a hero (Luffy) saving the heroine (Nami). He added: "You might think otherwise, but I had no intention of bringing in someone new to fill that [heroine] role. So when I had to think about whom to use for it amongst the straw hats of course that meant Nami.”

He also stated in 2019, when an interviewer addressed the fact his wife is similar to Nami, "They say a mangaka often marries a person who's similar to the heroine."

Across the several years the manga had been going, Nami often appears in the Shonen Jump heroines covers due to her role in One Piece.

You can see the latest Jump heroines poster here

Who's the Fairy Tail heroine according to Mashima?

One of his latest works (HERO’S) answers this question...

Context: Ellie is talking about Haru, Natsu, and Shiki (the heroes of Rave, Fairy Tail, and Edens Zero). Each one of these girls has the role of "heroine" in each of their respective stories. One of them even ends up with the hero.

BONUS: The Elephant in the room

As you probably noticed, I used a lot of official statements to back up my post. However, even those who oppose LuNa and Nalu use those kind of statments...

In the case of One Piece, several fans considered "romantic love" a concept completely foreign from the series due to a couple of quotes from the author. When asked about this particular subject, Oda stated that the members of Straw Hat crew are "in love with adventure." And later when asked again, the mangaka said that since this is a shonen story "romance isn't depicted."

Based on these answers, several fans created the myth of "romantic love" not existing in One Piece. Many held onto this conclusion with so much intensity that they always dismissed the bad girl Alvida's obvious attraction to the hero (Luffy).

However, as a clever and perceptive reviewer pointed out we're talking about the same author that once claimed he doesn't kill characters and went as far as to say "I hate when supposedly dead characters come back to life." Yet his story has a couple of "supposedly dead" characters who turned out to be alive. No spoilers here.

Some of his statments are meant to be taken with a grain of salt. He said "romance wasn't depicted" but as of recent years it's been a thing in One Piece...

...Señor Pink and Russian are one example of how traditional romance gets integrated in both story and characters. So, using the author's words to invalidate all possibility of romance in One Piece no longer works.

Ironically, haters take Oda's old claims literally when talking about Luffy, but they completely forget about it as soon as someone mentions Nami or Robin in this particular regard. A clear display of a blatant double-standard...

When it comes to Fairy Tail, some haters love to quote that Natsu and Lucy are "more than friends but less than lovers."

Yet, they choose to ignore that in recent years, when asked about the relationship between these characters, Mashima himself replied: "I feel that the Natsu and Lucy ship is more suitable."

Some time before that statement, during a New York Comic Con, when asked what he feels is “right” in this regard Mashima held up his drawing of Natsu and Lucy...

...so everyone could see his answer to the question.

So, using Mashima's old quote to deny the plausibility of a relationship upgrade here and there is not going to work either.

If people want to defend a pairing or prove a potent relationship has what it takes to become canon, they should try to stay true to the author's works, and the story's internal logic, instead of trying to find a way around them and/or promoting a baseless process of elimination, all to justify another premise.

Consistent bonding, chemistry, and natural development coming from the author’s works should be superior to mere rethoric, hype, and/or anime filler

#one piece #fairy tail #eiichiro oda #hiro mashima #monkey d. luffy #nami #luffy x nami #lunami #luna #ルナミ #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu x lucy #nalu #shipping #analysis #I'm ready for the salt...#this feels like committing blog seppuku #edited to correct a couple of mistakes

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wildcardaces · 4 years ago

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@ruby-static "haha human spy cams go brr" edition!

Robo penguin: ....

Shira: what the fuck- bro you good?

I fucking love the penguin spycams, they're so dorky and awkward and watching videos of penguins interacting with it is just as fun

And then there's the snowball camera

Quil: what is that

Anna: no idea

Theres a video this is based off where theres a group of emperors and as the ball rolls they all just zoop their necks down at it in interest and it made me chuckle.

Anna: Dan wtf-!?

Tmw you're a torpedo birb underwater who can launch into the sky for a little after jumping from the water so you do it every chance you get. That is what dan do

Extinct penguin time- the largest penguins to exist stood at nearly 6 ft tall. Which is taller than an emperor penguin, and mr gigantism Jpg (and me-) poor quil is being drawfed by the giant, this is probably during the prehistoric party-

SUDDENLY CURSED-!

Anna: *nervous chuckle* what the fuck?

Shira: THIS IS WHY ENTIRE SPECIES GO EXTINCT WHAT THE HELL-

Personally, I want to meet the person who did this and ask them "Why did you do this?"

And shira wants to eat their knees, Anna probably wants to kick their knees ajfhajfba

Ok onto the wholesome and funny for the finale

Tiny clover-!

For reference, a quil who is a giant to babi clover. But she dont care shes just baby!

And then theres tiny Jesse

Translation: Why are you big? Give me your height, fite me m8

And jesse is still chill

#agent a anna #agent a quil #shira #wildcard dan #clover #jesse #club penguin ocs #club penguin oc #club penguin #cursed image #who the fuck hard boils a penguin egg wtf-

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

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How To Love

Summary: Brian hoped taking you out on a date would help you both connect more like most couples did. Except, with him being a ghost, going on a date proves to be harder than either of you anticipated.

Pairing: Brian Kang x reader (ft. Day6)

World: Spiritual Connection (masterlist HERE)

Genre: ghost au / angst-fluff / valentines au

Warnings: none

A/N: Happy Valentines to everyone who celebrates it! As promised at Christmas, we are returning to our beloved manor house to see how the ghosts are doing. I did want to write about them all but it appears Brian was a little needy this time around so he got a story all to himself! I hope you enjoy it.

For those new to this world, this story’s context won’t make any sense without reading the previous stories before this. They are linked in the masterlist shared above.

Word count: 6292

Placing down the book he had just completed, Brian let out his umpteenth sigh for the day. It wasn’t the book’s fault. He had read this story many times over his years of existence and usually it held his attention well.

Tonight, however, Brian was too distracted to let the words fully infiltrate his mind, his thoughts wandering towards the dilemma he was faced with.

Things at the seaside manor had been going well. In fact, business hadn’t been better. Although it hadn’t been long since Christmas break, as soon as the doors reopened, guests would come and go every week in larger volumes than before. And whilst Brian was thrilled that your bed and breakfast venture had really taken off, it had some disadvantages.

Since you were spending your Saturday evening entertaining your guests whilst he was stuck in the study alone.

Glancing down at the love story he had been attempting to read, Brian lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. For someone who didn’t feel the same as he had when he was alive, he could still sense the weariness within his soul. He was tired of all of the distinctions between you and him, and reading about a love that held different worries than he had couldn’t ease his mind or heart.

Brian craved something more tangible to his existence. Since his death, over a century had passed by. And during that time, he hadn’t really questioned a lot about anything. Sure, he had his profound moments, inspired to write his feelings down in poetry. But that was it. He had accepted his time and place in this realm. Yet, just because he was dead, didn’t mean his emotions had died off.

Had that happened, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.

And it was due to the intensity of such emotions that everything felt insufferable right now.

“Here you are!” a voice called and it perked him instantly, despite it being more masculine than your tone. Turning to look in Dowoon’s direction, Brian gave his friend a curious look. “I should have known to find you inside of a book!”

“What’s up?”

“Sungjin and I are going to go walk Custard down the beach. You keen?”

Smiling lightly, Brian thought how peaceful that would be. Custard was Dowoon’s pride and joy, a dog you had got for his friend for Christmas. Brian was certain Dowoon loved his canine friend more than anyone else in this house. Custard was all too eager to spend every moment – awake or asleep – with Dowoon too.

Now I’m jealous of a dog, Brian lamented, shaking his head softly. Whilst the thought of stretching his legs and attempting to take in the salty air of the sea did sound enticing, he could already see who he wanted to do that with.

And it wasn’t Dowoon, Custard or Sungjin, sadly.

“Maybe another time.”

“Alright, suit yourself! Ah, if you get peckish, Sarah has made her infamous brownie for the house guests and served up the edges on a plate in the kitchen.”

Brian chuckled. “Peckish? Us dead folk don’t need to eat.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t a nice concept now and then,” the tall man suggested with a shrug, giving Brian a final look before departing the room.

He contemplated the idea. Brian’s thoughts shifted back to the first time he shared a drink with you when you moved into the manor house as an adult. No longer were you simply the child who grew up in this house each summer when visiting Pearl, your grandmother. You had arrived and stirred a lot more than the dust and bric-a-brac left behind with her passing. Brian found himself smiling at the many times after you had both shared a meal together.

Maybe, Dowoon was right.

Pushing back his chair, Brian made his way out of the study and down to the kitchen, stopping in the threshold when he overheard the conversation between the occupants of the room.

“Shh! What if someone hears you talking? It will look like you’re talking to yourself!”

“Wonpil, don’t be so silly! Everyone’s being entertained in the main living room right now. We’re completely alone down here.”

“You make it sound as if you like that idea,” his friend mentioned and Brian cleared his throat noisily, his bitterness overshadowing any guilt he felt at breaking up the couple’s alone time. Wonpil, clutching his heart, heaved a little with his fright. “You could have given us fair warning!”

“Why? Your heart won’t jump out of your chest with a little scare,” Brian remarked, reaching for a piece of brownie on the table. He held it up and smiled. “I was told to come for this.”

“Yes, but Sarah’s heart could and as much as that could simplify things, I’d much rather she live out a full life until she joins us in the afterlife.”

The only living human in the room swatted a bashful hand out at Wonpil. “Stop it!”

“I won’t! You are special to me how you are!”

And that signalled Brian’s departure from the kitchen, unsure if the brooding overwhelming him stemmed from the fact that he couldn’t really taste the chocolatey goodness of the treat within his hand that he nibbled on, or because he had to agree with Wonpil to some extent.

If you weren’t just like Sarah, someone who possessed a beating heart, that would simplify things. You would be on a level playing field. Brian knew nothing was ever truly equal in relationships – dead or alive. Still, it would mean you wouldn’t be doing everything so separately. He couldn’t help you run the guest house. He wasn’t able to assist you with your guests like Sarah could. Of course, he did his fair share around the manor where he could, and you were always grateful for that. But it didn’t change the fact that if he walked into the living room right now, only you would see him. Further, you couldn’t interact with him other than in subtle ways that wouldn’t bring attention to the living.

Sensing movement by the front door that he had mindlessly wandered towards, he gave a small smile to Jae who was slipping into his jacket.

“Oh bro! Had enough of the books?”

Shrugging loosely, Brian rocked back on his heels. “What are you up to? Do you want-”

Jae tipped his head to the side as he brushed down the collar to his jacket and then grinned. “Me? It’s date night.”

“A-Again?” Brian breathed incredulously and his friend nodded.

“You know how it is. Married life is all about making sure you keep things fresh and healthy. Date night is a part of that.”

Swallowing down a bitter curse that he, in fact, did not know how any of it was, Brian smiled again, albeit more strained this time. “Where are you going?”

“Downtown theatre.”

“Aren't they only showing Little Women right now? You saw that last week.”

“Gotta keep the Mrs happy, Brian,” Jae announced and then smiled as his Mrs, also known as Becky, came into view.

Her ruby lips twisted up with disdain. “I heard you.”

“I know you did and that was why I kept my talk decent,” Jae quipped, leading his wife out the front door of the manor house with a hasty farewell wave to Brian as he left him behind.

Brian sighed heavily once the pair had gone. Even if they bickered more often than not, he was jealous of them. At least, they prioritised having a date night.

Had he ever gone out on a date with you? Sure, he spent most of his time in your company. You would wake up together, run errands in town or the closest city, sometimes walking along the beach like the others were right now. On the odd occasion, if you didn’t pass out early from exhaustion from running the bed and breakfast, you would curl up in his arms and catch up or read books together. Eventually though, you would fall asleep and a new day would arrive just like that.

Time never had much value to him until he started being with you. It felt like there was never enough of it, moments stolen in between house chores and setting up for new arrivals.

The longer he went through the catalogue of his moments with you in his mind, he realised he had never gone out of his way to call anything a date. Glancing at the large event board by the coat closet, he moved closer to inspect the decorated part of the calendar, indicating that Valentine’s Day was just around the corner. Smiling, he finished his piece of brownie with more enthusiasm before clapping his hands together.

He knew what he had to do.

You smiled brightly when you felt arms slip around your waist from behind you, instinctively leaning back and allowing Brian to step in closer. You nuzzled into him briefly. “Well hello, handsome.”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You gestured to the various hues of pink and red that you were using to decorate the living room. “It’s the month of love.”

“The month of love?” he echoed, chuckling softly. “I thought Valentine’s was only a day in February. One in which, I’m certain I heard you proclaim was not your cup of tea.”

Turning around in his arms, Brian grinned at your expression. You scrunched your nose up further. “If I’m honest, it is really cliché. I mean, you should show your partner that you love them every day, right?”

He didn’t answer, simply staring back at you and hoping that you could feel what he did deep down. Brian never questioned your love for him. He just wished you realised how you prioritised him in your schedule.

And how little lately.

“However, from a business standpoint, Valentine’s is the perfect time to whisk your loved one off somewhere to have a little rendezvous. We’re completely booked out for the entire week that Valentine’s falls on.”

Brian’s mood dampened. “Really? You didn’t plan to have even one day off?”

“Now why would I do that?” you questioned, moving away from him to return to your decorations.

“Because you did during Christmas.”

You laughed and shot him a look. “There’s a huge difference between both events. Besides, we had a Christmas wedding to plan for.”

“Would it take another wedding for you to take time off again?” he wondered with a heavy breath and you stopped hanging the balloons, turning back to him.

“Are you okay?”

“I was hoping we could have some time together that week. A whole day, actually.”

You cocked your head to the side, intrigued. “Why?”

“Do you know we’ve never gone on an actual date, Y/N?”

“We haven’t?” Brian shook his head and you fell silent.

“Becky and Jae go on one almost every week.”

“That’s because they can.”

“Why can’t we?” he asked, a little hurt by your response. You could tell and swallowed slowly. “Because I’m not alive?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you mumbled, guilt washing over you. “Not at all. Hey! We do things together all the time! We just went to the city together last week.”

“To pick up plant boxes for the vegetable patch.”

“It was fun though. And it was just you and me.”

Brian sighed. “I meant, intentional time together. I want to do things with you like a proper couple does.”

“Can we do that?” you breathed and immediately shook your hands to dismiss your doubt. “Of course we can. We will!”

“You’ll give me one day of your time?”

“How about the day before Valentine’s?” you offered and Brian began to smile. You, however, looked stressed. “I’ll just ask Sarah to step up a bit whilst we’re gone. We will have the best date ever!”

He should have known with your hesitance that this date of yours would be a disaster.

Still, when you met him out in the foyer by the front door, Brian felt hopeful. You had put in some effort to how you looked; wearing one of the dresses he knew you had dug out of your grandmother’s wardrobe. It looked perfect on you and with a hooked arm extended out to you, Brian allowed you to curl a hand around it before leading the way out to the car.

For the trip to the city, you were both excited. Conversation flowed freely as did a lot of singing. He could see how affected you were after he sang along to a Michael Buble song on the radio, the hand he had held the whole trip growing a little clammy. It satisfied Brian to know he had charms about him still.

But it all turned pear-shaped when you pulled up at the restaurant you had made a reservation at. The maître d looked at you and then frowned. “Is your lunch partner running late?”

“What? No,” you answered, smiling at Brian and then swallowing down your easy reaction. Brian stiffened at your side. “Oh. Yes, they are.”

“I’m afraid right now we’re really busy and so we’ll have to seat you up at the bar. We’ll be able to find you a table when you’re ready.”

“Can’t I just be seated at a table for two regardless?”

He shook his head at your request. “Sorry, it’s our restaurant’s rules.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Brian breathed into your ear but you shook your head subtlety.

“I’ll just go somewhere else,” you announced, turning on your heel and hurrying back out to the car.

Brian stared at you when he was seated next to you again. Your cheeks were red and he could tell it wasn’t only with annoyance. He caressed your face softly. “I didn’t think that would be a rule in a restaurant.”

“It’s fine. We’ll still eat together, Brian. Who needs to go to a restaurant like that? Even though I look like this, I can eat anywhere!”

You both ended up in the food court, your determination now tapered out as you sat across from him staring down at your sushi. The noise within the eatery was louder than the ambience at your first stop and Brian pushed down his disappointment.

This wasn’t where he wanted to take you out to eat today.

“It’s fine,” you mentioned again when you caught his gaze, smiling for his benefit. “I love sushi.”

“I know you do.”

“What’s next on the list after eating?” you asked and Brian reached out for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I thought we could go to the museum together.”

You brightened. “I haven’t been in years.”

“It’ll be fun. You love old things,” he commented and you slyly grinned at him whilst nodding.

“You know, I really do.”

With your lunch eaten, you got back in the car to head to the museum together. A renewed energy stepped between you both as you began to look around, Brian swinging your hand in his gently as you walked around.

“Oh look!” you exclaimed, dragging him over to the Victorian section. You lit up as you inspected a selection of men’s outfits. Looking at Brian and then back at the mannequins, you giggled. “Are any of these looks for you?”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in number three,” he breathed and you giggled. Looking towards the casual outfit on the end, Brian pointed. “That was more like me.”

“Oh, now that is very you!” you exclaimed, looking at his modern outfit and then back at what was once the type of clothes he wore. “Maybe you should try them on again?”

“I’d rather stay like this,” he announced quickly, pulling you away from the display.

For the following hour, it felt as close as it could to a date for Brian. Of course, there were a couple of instances where other viewers would step too close to him and he’d have to sidestep away quickly to avoid being walked through. Still, he was having a lot of fun and he could tell you were as well.

Yet, Brian had become aware of a small group that had been following you both around the museum, and more so of their stares in your direction.

“Who is she talking to?”

“She’s weird, don’t look at her.”

Brian attempted to ignore the jeers from them for some time before he let out a sigh, stepping in front of you with a weak smile. You placed a hand on his torso affectionately. “Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Pull out your phone.”

“It’s already in my hand,” you pointed out, now confused. “I’ve been taking photos!”

“I mean, pull it up to your ear. Do you have your earbuds? Maybe put one in.”

You slowly looked around yourself, realising what he was referring to. Brian closed his eyes to maintain his emotions, hating that you were now aware of the people whispering and looking. He wondered if it would have been better to leave you oblivious to it all.

Forcibly smiling, you pulled out your earbuds and angled your phone towards yourself so it looked like you were on a call. And from that moment out, the trip to the museum became subdued.

“Let’s forgo the gift shop and head back to the car, hm?” he offered when you had made your way back around to the exit, your head lowered in defeat. Brian rubbed your arms softly. “We can go and-”

“I want to find something to remember this outing by,” you mumbled, stepping away from him and going into the gift store. It took a few minutes for your head to lift back up to a level you could maintain without feeling uncomfortable. He could see in your eyes that you were trying to salvage the trip here. Stepping over to your side, he pointed at an arrangement of keyrings with the museum’s logo on it.

“What about one of those?”

You shook your head. “Anyone could have one of them. I want something more us.”

It was a slow process of finding something that you liked. A couple of times you got excited over an item and turned to show him it, only to stop mid-way and cast your gaze around the tiny shop to see if anyone was watching.

It was a keyring and magnet that you eventually settled on, your mood had fallen to a level that he felt he couldn’t retrieve it from. Still, Brian attempted to. “Do you want to go shopping? I’m sure we could cheer up looking at stores together.”

“I do need to get a couple of things from the mall,” you agreed quietly, driving the car to the closest one. With yourself fully armed this time from the start, you relaxed into your experience at the mall. You had done this many times together and perhaps that was why you seemed to grow your confidence again.

“Oh, let’s look in here!” you exclaimed, walking hastily towards a jewellery store. As you browsed, Brian lingered at your side, trying not to take much notice of the items. He didn’t know how to act within such a place. Of course, he wanted to take a deeper look at everything they had in stock. Although he might be a little outdated, even back in his times, he knew the importance of a fine gemstone on a necklace or ring. It made him uncomfortable because he wanted nothing more than to find something for you.

“Anything caught your eye?” you murmured when you looked back at him and Brian shrugged. Smiling, you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the display boxes. Everything was so sparkly; it took him several blinks to actually focus on anything. You squeezed his hand before letting go, wandering around the store whilst he remained where you placed him.

Brian’s eyes were stuck on a delicate pendant. It held a blue stone within its centre, the metal surrounding it linked in a unique way to hold it together. He decided it reminded him of his love for you.

Brian didn’t even realise he was crying until he felt his cheeks were wet. You approached him calmly, peering at what caught his eye. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It is.”

“Blue topaz is your birthstone too, did you know that?”

He hadn’t but there was no way he could reply, overwhelmed by the pure need for the necklace. His eyes travelled to the price tag and sighed.

A ghost couldn’t exactly purchase anything.

“Excuse me,” you called out and Brian turned to stare at you, somewhat disconnected in the moment. He didn’t hear the rest of your sentence, but when the necklace was taken from the display and you stepped away from his side, he knew what you had done. Walking out of the store, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, collecting himself when you bounced up to his side and waggled the gift bag. “Here you go! Ah, I’ll carry for you until we’re back at the car!”

“Why did you do that?”

You beamed at him. “Because I could see what it meant to you.”

“I wanted to get it for you,” he explained and your smile evaporated. “I can’t even get you a god damn gift!”

“Brian,” you started but he shook his head, storming away from you and going back out to the car. He laughed bitterly when he was able to slip inside without you unlocking it. Because he wasn’t bound to the same world as you were. Although he could touch you and all the things that your realm held, he wouldn’t ever truly exist in it.

This date had been the worst idea he could ever have. It highlighted all his fears. Inside the manor house, you never seemed unattainable, apart from your endless working hours. But stepping out of the house he had stayed close to for the last century and trying to do something that normal people did had been foolish. Jae and Becky were an anomaly. Brian had learned today that dating was only for people who both either had hearts that moved or had turned to dust years ago.

Brian was in the study again, this time no book was held within his grip. Instead, you had left him with the small gift bag and headed into your bedroom, locking the door behind you, your tears muffled as he had listened on until he couldn’t take it any longer.

Looking down at the velvet case on the table, Brian snapped the lid open and stared at the necklace you had bought in his stead. He closed the lid with a sigh, only to open it again, repeating his actions even though they were taking quite a toll on his energy levels. He hadn’t expected going out on a date with you to be so exhausting.

No wonder Jae always crashed the day after his outings with Becky.

The door to the study opened and closed, though Brian had no interest in tearing his gaze away from the jewellery box before him. He blinked when a hand picked it up and a low whistle left the man before him. Sungjin then chuckled. “Wow, this is real nice.”

Brian gave no response, though his fingers reached out to touch the velvet once it was back on the table.

“Did you steal it?”

“That would take a lot of energy though perhaps I would feel more at ease had I.”

Sungjin chuckled softly. “No, it wouldn’t make you feel any better. And Y/N would have felt bad too. It’s best to do things in their realm the legal way.”

“Did … did you steal something?” Brian asked, glancing up and seeing the answer in Sungjin’s face. He gaped at his friend. “What was it?”

“A brooch,” he admitted, toying with the stack of books on the edge of the desk.

Brian sucked in a dramatic breath when he realised it was the one Pearl had worn all the time. “That brooch? I thought Pearl bought it!”

“My pride was knocked around from that ordeal. It sucks having to step back when it comes to dating though, huh?”

Brian nodded glumly. “I wanted to drive the car.”

“And hold open the doors?” Sungjin offered in which his friend agreed to with another nod.

“I wanted to make Y/N feel special and enjoy herself. Instead, all we did was constantly remind one another of our differences.”

“The only true difference you both have are that you were born over a century and a half ago and Y/N is from this time we’re existing in now. Your morals will be outdated in her world.”

“Hardly, there’s more and you know it.”

Sungjin shrugged, though his gaze was less nonchalant. “There’s only more if you allow them to be there. Why focus on the unimportant stuff?”

“Sungjin, the fact that I’m dead and Y/N’s not is kind of important.”

“Is it? I wasted far too many years of Pearl’s life thinking just like that, you know. To her, all she cared about was her feelings for me and mine of hers. All couples have to learn to compromise and accept how the other is. You’ve been doing that all along. Before this desire of yours to be more than you are, you were working well together, Brian.”

“Were we? I felt like I never did anything with her,” Brian lamented and his friend moved around the desk to pat him on the shoulder.

“So tell Y/N that, not me. You didn’t need to go all out on some fancy date to let her know what’s really been bothering you.”

“Is this how Y/N feels after talking with you?” he breathed as he got to his feet and Sungjin grinned.

“Hey, I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. It took me a damn long time to get here though. I don’t want to see either of you spend decades stuck in the wrong situation like I did with Pearl.”

“I wouldn’t let even a year pass by being away from Y/N,” Brian replied and Sungjin clapped him on the back.

“See, you’re already ahead of me. Now, how about you go let her know how you’ve been feeling!”

You were already asleep when Brian quietly entered your bedroom, slipping into the bed tentatively. When he had been alive, he had dated briefly and so the only arguments he had experienced were with those of his friends and family. Now in his afterlife, you had been his first true love. He didn’t know what was practical to do within the delicate situation afterwards, no matter how many relationships he had studied within novels over the decades. He laid still beside you, chewing on his lip until your body shifted closer, your arm soon flung over him. Brian reached for your hand gently, drawing it up to his chest and placing it there instead.

He knew when the morning arrived that he would tell you everything. Until then, he would enjoy the proximity you sought after as you dreamed, your body now pressed into him at multiple spots.

Despite his lack of actual sleep, Brian felt well-rested when you finally opened your eyes. And he smiled when you didn’t move away from him when you realised how curled up you were next to him.

“Morning.”

“Hi,” you breathed, swallowing visibly. “Brian, I’m sorry-”

“Can I go first?” he interrupted, smiling at you more warmly. He reached out to brush some of your hair away from your face. “I’ve been waiting all night long to tell you how I feel and I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“Did you not sleep?” He shook his head softly and you gasped. “Brian! You should have woken me up so you could get some sleep after talking!”

“I don’t need to sleep every night, remember?”

“Still,” you mumbled, pouting for effect.

“Can I tell you my thoughts?” he asked and you nodded softly, your gaze not leaving his. Brian smiled, reminding himself to actually start talking instead of admiring the way you respected that he needed to talk. He felt foolish for a fleeting moment.

He knew he could have told you all this before and you would have listened at any stage.

“I took you out on that date yesterday because I had convinced myself that was what was missing from us. I saw everyone around us doing their own thing with those that matter the most to them and believed that to do that with you too, I needed to step up, to do more couple focused events.”

“I did enjoy the concept of going out with you, Brian.”

“I know,” he told you, reaching out to cup your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently running along your skin. “And in the future, I hope we can do other things together out of the house. But the real reason for my attempt is that I stopped valuing my place here with you,”

You frowned. “What do you mean? You are everything to me!”

“So is your business,” he pointed out, sighing when your brows knitted together. “I started to feel it was easier to focus on the living as opposed to me because their needs are more visible here.”

Touching his neck with your hand, you smiled. “You’re visible to me too. But I do understand, I think. Things have been really busy when people started asking for longer stays and I went from working a certain amount of days to seven days a week.”

“Are you tired?”

You nodded. “I thought I had to prove more of myself with running the bed and breakfast. I got greedy from my success. Even when I was tired, I was consumed with doing better.”

“I wish I could help you with it and that we could run this together. But my place here doesn’t stand out as much as yours.”

“Really? You’re my favourite to talk about around the fireplace. A lot of people leave here charmed by this mysterious man they have seen the portrait of in the hallway. Don’t tell the others but you’re a crowd favourite. Must be these handsome looks of yours.”

Brian smirked. “I think it’s all down to how much you talk me up.”

“You know, it’s not the same, but I hope you know you’re welcome in the room during the times when I’m entertaining. You’ve shared your stories with me in the past and I relay them. But you could be there to help me with them. And in return, I’ll try to find balance with how much I let this place overrun me. As much as I love sharing my joy for the manor, all the people who live here are the true reason this house is magical to me. You are my longest friend, Brian. Before all this-”

You gestured between you both with a proud smile before continuing. “-you and the others were my five childhood friends who I felt safe around. I still feel safe here and I don’t believe I’m missing out on anything just because I can’t go eat in a fancy restaurant with you. I’d much rather cook together here.”

“Do you know I adore how honest you are?” he wondered, moving to rest his forehead on yours. “Here I was withholding my feelings because I worried we weren’t real enough.”

“Oh, we’re real, Brian. I realised yesterday on the trip home that I was more embarrassed with myself than I was with our unique relationship. I don’t need approval from anyone but myself to love you.”

“If you could choose to wait for a lifetime where we’re alive together or keep what we have now, even with its differences, would you still choose now?”

You nodded immediately and his heart soared. “Of course. Besides, you promised along with Jae, Dowoon, Wonpil and Sungjin that you’d stay with me here until I’m joining you all over in the afterlife. This is just the entrée to our love together.”

“Are you hungry? You keep talking about food,” he asked with a chuckle and you giggled, nodding.

“I want to go make pancakes.”

“Why pancakes?”

“Well, it’s a special day for a lot of our guests but more so for us.”

“It is?”

You nodded. “Don’t you remember one year where I stayed here as a kid because my parents had to go on a business trip and my grandmother was unwell so you five all stood over the stovetop attempting to make a batch of pancakes for me to eat?”

“You remember that? God, I have all the time in the world to replay my existence and yet you recall that far more easily than I would. Was that Valentines Day?”

You nodded, pulling away from him and padding across your room to a familiar book on your shelf, slipping something out of it. Coming back over to the bed, you crawled to his side and handed over the card. Brian chuckled as he opened it. “You still have this?”

“You were my first Valentine.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in today?”

“I believe love should be shown every day, I’ve admitted that. But I do believe in this day. Not for the reason a lot of others do, just for the fact that it makes me think of you all.”

Brian leaned in to kiss you before brushing your hair away from your face. “You were my first Valentine too.”

“I doubt it. I bet you had ladies lining up for your hand. Look at you! So charming that even the mistresses of the house you served no doubt harboured feelings for you!”

“Are you jealous if they did?” he wondered, following you as you got up from the bed and headed out into the hallway, taking the path to the kitchen. Since it was early, none of the guests were out of their rooms yet.

You shot Brian a look. “Why be jealous when I have you now!”

“Who’s jealous?” Jae enquired when you both arrived in the kitchen, Brian surprised by the full turn out. Aside from Sarah who hadn’t stayed at the manor last night, the full-time residents were all seated at the table in the room.

“I am!” Sungjin proclaimed, pointing to everyone in the room. “Pearl can’t come to visit any time soon like she did over Christmas. Look at all these couples around me.”

Wonpil shook his head. “My love isn’t here yet.”

“Love? So it’s to that point already?” Becky breathed in amazement, clasping her friend’s hand in hers. And then she turned to you. “Y/N, is there a reason you wanted us all here today?”

“It’s pancake day,” you announced and went to retrieve two boxes of premixed pancake mix from the cupboard.

Dowoon grinned and stopped rubbing his dog’s tummy. “You really trust us to make these?”

“I think we’ll be tempting fate again,” Jae agreed, shuddering as Becky stared at her husband in confusion. Jae sighed heavily. “We were in charge of feeding Y/N one year when Pearl was unwell. It took us forty minutes to serve up the world’s worst breakfast.”

“It was my favourite breakfast,” you corrected, handing a box to Sungjin and Wonpil each. “And it’s Valentines. Can’t we all have some time together before I go make my guests feel the magic in the air or whatever it is?”

It was chaotic, to say the least. Still, after all the years that had passed, none of them had mastered the art of cooking in your realm. It wasn’t as if they truly needed to, given spirits didn’t need food to sustain themselves like you did. But thankfully this time, Becky was here and she managed to deter Jae from putting too much batter onto the pan at a time.

Watching everyone with a smile on his face, Brian quietly left the room to retrieve the necklace from the study, taking it out of the velvet box and marvelling at it as he carried it back to the kitchen. It would take him some time to fully accept his pride would be knocked about in this relationship. He decided he would attempt to make you things in the future when wanting to give you a proper gift. Still, he knew that this came from him despite how it fell into his hands.

And when Brian saw you again, he didn’t hesitate to sling it around your neck, doing up the clasp to the chain. You turned and slipped your arms around his waist. “I love you, Brian.”

“I love you too.”

“Hey, Valentine’s is for us all right?” Dowoon exclaimed and clapped his hands together. “I love you all! But I love Custard justttt a bit more.”

“Just a bit? I’m offended.”

“Jae, do you love me more than everyone here or not?” Becky offered with a smile and he chuckled.

“No, I love everyone more than you.”

“Hey!”

And just like that, the room filled with laughter and exclamations, much like it always did when you all were together.

And as Brian held your hand within his, he realised that he liked Valentine’s a whole lot more than he ever had. It wasn’t about being the perfect date. Or having the best relationship either. Even though he had new ideas and couldn’t wait to spend more alone time with you.

But for now, he was surrounded by everyone he adored. And if Valentine’s was the day of love, then he knew he would be full from this year’s one.

_________________

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strandedhaze · 5 years ago

Text

ONE : MEET TYLER

FULL NAME: tyler alexander walford. PREFERRED NAME: tyler. NICKNAME(S): ty. DATE OF BIRTH: august 19th, 1998. GENDER: cis male. PREFERRED PRONOUNS: he/him/his. ORIENTATION: heterosexual. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single in main verse. RELIGION: christian. OCCUPATION: footballer, a left-back for lafc. CURRENT RESIDENCE: los angeles, california ; he resides in a house in hollywood hills.

TWO : TYLER’S BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: manchester, england. NATIONALITY: english. ETHNIC BACKGROUND: british. LINGUISTICS: english is his native language but he can also speak dutch and spanish fluently. EDUCATION: he graduated high-school. CRIMINAL RECORD: clean. BIRTH ORDER: second. FATHER: dave walford was born on december 26th, 1976 in manchester, england. he is a former professional sprinter and olympics athlete, who currently works with manchester united and who resides in manchester. MOTHER: suzanne marie walford (née dawson) was born on december 8th, 1977 in liverpool, england. she is an accountant and resides in manchester, england. SISTER(S): none. BROTHER(S): marcus john walford was born on january 4th, 1993 in manchester, england. he is tyler’s manager and resides in new york city, new york. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: lotte walford (née janssen), sister-in-law; solange walford, niece; benjamin walford and dev walford; nephews. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: tyler is single. CHILDREN: none so far. FRIENDS: tbd. EXES: roos dekker and stella jones. PETS: none so far.

THREE : GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 5′11″ ( 181 cm ). WEIGHT: his weight oscillates between 160 lbs ( 72.5 kg ) 165 lbs ( 75 kg ). BODY TYPE AND BUILD: he used to be rather lean, almost lanky in a way, but in the transition between nyfc and lafc, tyler managed to put on some weight and build up his body through workout + diet. so whereas he’s naturally slim, he now has more of an athletic build with muscular arms and an overall toned body. EYE COLOR: deep brown. EYESIGHT: he has perfect eyesight. HAIR COLOR: brown. HAIR STYLE: he doesn’t bother much with his hair style, in all fairness. the most he does is get a trim here and there, and sometimes if he’s feeling do a fade-cut, maybe go for a shorter length than regular but even so, he always sticks to wearing his hair as it naturally is. DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: his smile is undoubtedly his most notable feature, his full, often described as pouty, lips probably a close second. other than that, his overall physique. ever since he’s managed to build up his body, it has clearly become a subject of attention. SCARS AND MARKS: it comes with the career and the job. he has scars from surgery but also from training and official games, as well as the occasional every day life ones. same goes for marks. even so, there’s nothing particularly noticeable. TATTOOS: none so far. PIERCINGS: none. VOICECLAIM: trent alexander-arnold. ACCENT AND INTENSITY: despite having lived four years in amsterdam, and having gone from seattle to new york to los angeles, his accent remains the same. you can tell every time he goes home, as he returns with an even more intense scouse accent. yes, he is from manchester so the most natural thing would be for him to pick up the mancunian accent, however given his mother (and respective family) was the one who was around the most when he was growing up, tyler has picked up her accent. it’s the same for his brother. ALLERGIES: dairy and mushrooms. PHOBIAS AND FEARS: he’s not claustrophobic but he gets a little paranoid when in very tight and very small spaces. MENTAL ILLNESSES: none so far. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: none so far. SCENT THEY WEAR: neroli portofino by tom ford all year round, probably his fave scent. for nights out, sauvage by dior and on special occasions, bleu de chanel. he does the occasional mix, acqua di gio by giorgio armani always being the base and then something different to change it up. ALCOHOL USE: socially, he does. SMOKING: he doesn’t smoke. OTHER NARCOTICS USE: no. INDULGENT FOOD: rarely. he’s not one to indulge in food, truly, he prefers sticking to a healthy relationship with it and opting for foods he knows his body will be happy with, so to say. SPLURGE SPENDING: he can go a little bit crazy with his nephews but otherwise, he’s a responsible spender. he knows his limits and what he can and can’t spend. not to mention he’s the son of an accountant, so he’s been raised to be very mindful and responsible about his money and assets. GAMBLING: no. ADDICTIONS AND VICES: none.

FOUR : DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes. CAN THEY COOK AND BAKE? yes and no. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? yes. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? yes. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? no. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? yes. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? yes. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? a healthy in-between. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? patient. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? outspoken all through and through. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? leader. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? he’s a realist, you won’t find him sugarcoating anything and you won’t find him downputting herself either. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? early bird. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? heavy sleeper. COFFEE OR TEA? coffee. DAY OR NIGHT? night. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? showers. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? coca cola, if he has to choose. CATS OR DOGS? dogs. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? (home) cinema. SHOWS OR MOVIES? movies. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? gaming console. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? ice cream. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? pizza. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? neither, he doesn’t like sweets. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? snowballs fighting. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? literature. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? same as above, neither. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? sci-fi. HORROR OR COMEDY? both.

FIVE : TYLER’S LIKES & DISLIKES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: training and playing football FAVORITE ANIMAL: puma. FAVORITE BOOK: he doesn’t have one so far. FAVORITE QUOTE: ❝ i’ve failed over and over again in my life. and that’s why i succeed. ❞ — michael jordan. FAVORITE COLOR(S): red. FAVORITE DESIGNER: he has a couple he enjoys, none that he favors personally though. FAVORITE CUISINE: he likes mediterranean cuisine a little bit more than others but he’s a person of experiences and who enjoys tasting and playing so there isn’t an exact fave. FAVORITE DISH(ES): he really likes shepherd’s pie and sunday roasts, not even because of the dishes itself but because they remind him of home, and he also really enjoys mediterranean bowls and seafood paella. FAVORITE DRINK: he likes a good gin, on the rare, mostly during off-season. FAVORITE FLOWER(S): black orchids. FAVORITE GEM: ruby. FAVORITE HOLIDAY: christmas. FAVORITE MOVIE: ali, probably is one of his all time faves. he really likes documentaries too, especially surrounding stuff he loves, his favorites as of now might as well be what’s my name - muhammad ali (he’s a major fan) and make us dream. FAVORITE MUSIC GENRE: hip hop and r&b. FAVORITE SONG(S): mile high by james black ft. travis scott. GO TO KARAOKE SONG: HYFR by drake ft lil wayne. FAVORITE SCENT(S): fresh coffee, the scent of freshly baked, straight out the oven cakes, musk. FAVORITE TELEVISION SHOW(S): he has a hard time keeping up with shows, truth be told. FAVORITE SPORTS: football and basketball, though he’s a massive sports fan in general. SPORTS TEAM THEY SUPPORT: liverpool fc (though he keeps that one dear to his heart and not many know about it — his dad included), la lakers though there are a few basketball teams he appreciates. FAVORITE EMOJI: 🙄 — maybe? FAVORITE WEATHER: he's an england boy so naturally, he’s a big fan of the opposite weather he grew up in. he’s also a summer baby so sunshine and warm days all through and through. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: summer. FAVORITE PLACE(S): rhodes, greece — ever since he turned ten, his parents made it a point to go there every year as a family and though the tradition fell through when marcus married and tyler moved to america, it’s still a place of fond memories and where ty really feels at peace and at ease. SUPERPOWER THEY WISH THEY HAD: invisibility. VACATION DESTINATION: there’s a few places he enjoys, he REALLY loves anything more on the calmer, beachier side.

#° ❁. — tyler ╱ defined. ❜

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everafterfrisk · 3 years ago

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Ehhh I think both OP and FT do good job on it

Rather than saying who's done it best

As for Cordovin yeah it kinda drags and a little sloppy but what saves it for me are some cool scenes

Like Weiss using Ice dust to create platforms for her and ruby to hop on

Ruby shooting inside the Arm Cannon

Weiss/Ruby's interactions while riding the queen lancer

Ren & Qrow combos

Ruby running like Naruto on Missiles

Qrow saving Ruby from Falling

Cordovin's Different types of dust

Overall while not the best fight ever, it was decent enough to be passable for me

Made some Memes, hope ya enjoy them

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londonfoxglove-blog · 6 years ago

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Christmastime in London

From Trafalgar Square's giant Christmas tree and Christmas lights across the city to pantomimes, ice skating rinks and Christmas markets, experience the magic of Christmas in London. From London Christmas markets and Christmas shopping in London to ice-skating rinks, Winter Wonderland and Christmas events, there are so many magical things to do in London at Christmas. Find out what are the TOP 5 to see and do in London, 1-31 December 2019 and book your accommodation in London here.

1. Christmas in Leicester Square - until 05.01.20

Step inside the velvet-draped 1920s Leicester Square Spiegeltent to catch this year’s multi-award winning show, La Clique as it makes an iconic return to the West End with jugglers, fire-breathing, sword-swallowing acts and more.

Top it off with the NYE Spectacular, a heart-pumping spectacle followed by a fist-pumping party – a New Year's Eve in London send-off like no other.

See The Puppini Sisters – the queens of three-part harmonies, retro-chic and swing – rock the stage on a November night.

Spice up your night with a bit of drag-infused nostalgia, courtesy of Spice Gals, or watch the Tuck Shop drag queens "sleigh" the Tucking Around the Christmas Tree show.

Let Lickable: The All Senses Christmas Cabaret tickle your senses with a feast of laughs.

Get up to £34 discount toward your first trip on Airbnb! Click HERE

2. Winter at Southbank Centre - until 05.01.20

Tuck into festive snacks and steaming drinks, from mulled wine and hot chocolate, to German sausages, mince pies and spiced cider.

Indulge in seasonal cocktails and comfort food at the utterly cosy, alpine-style Bar Under the Bridge, or grab some hearty grub from Mac & Cheese Truck and Applebee’s Fish.

Book a private igloo at Jimmy’s Lodge, a warming retreat serving seasonal drinks and comforting dishes.

Explore the Winter Market for more delicious treats, global street food and hot drinks next to the Thames.

book your accommodation in London here

3. Hogwarts in the Snow / Harry Potter Studio - until 26.01.20

Celebrate a very magical festive season with Hogwarts in the Snow at Warner Bros. Studio Tour London – The Making of Harry Potter.

Winter has arrived at the wizarding world, with a true festive makeover. Glittering Christmas trees line the Great Hall and a replica festive feast including flaming Christmas puddings is laid out on the long tables; while the top section of the hall is transformed for the Yule Ball with snow, icicles and an orchestra of magical instruments.

Get up to £34 discount toward your first trip on Airbnb! Click HERE

Around the rest of the studio, special-effect fires roar in the fireplaces, the Gryffindor common room is filled with Christmas treats and the detailed Hogwarts castle model is covered in a special blanket of snow.

Get up close to props, costumes and models used in the Harry Potter films, then take a look around the studio’s famous movie sets, decorated as they were for the festive scenes. Even find out how different types of artificial snow, ice and fires were created and used in the films!

4. Christmas at Kew Gardens - until 05.01.20

Discover a brand new trail including Waterfalls – an installation of cascading lights from the treetop walkways in the Kew Arboretum.

Interact with Vines, as you watch the colours change when you touch the LED installation.

Experience a laser light show in the newly reopened Temperate House.

Wander along a 20-metre (65 ft) tunnel of light arcades in Bifröst, with hypnotic animations guiding the way.

Meander through a Fire Garden with enchanted ruby and emerald flames.

See a spectacular light, music and water display in front of the iconic Palm House.

Encounter a choir of holly bushes and a walkway of glittering pink cherry trees.

book your accommodation in London here

Take the little ones to catch a glimpse of Santa and his elves along the trail, and enjoy vintage fairground rides.

Indulge in delicious Christmas treats and warming winter drinks in the food village at the end of the trail.

Tuck into food at the new Pavilion Bar and Grill, or pre-book a Christmas dinner in the Botanical restaurant.

5. Winter Wonderland - until 05.01.20

Skate to live music on the Winter Wonderland ice rink, the UK's largest outdoor rink.

Go on a journey through the past, present and future Christmas in the Magical Ice Kingdom presents A Christmas Carol.

Watch world-class skaters in the heartwarming Paddington on Ice – The Grand Voyage.

Marvel at the acrobatic wonders at Zippos Christmas Circus or Cirque Berserk.

Get up to £34 discount toward your first trip on Airbnb! Click HERE

Take the kids and be sure to catch Mr Men and Little Miss – The Show.

Soar into the sky on the iconic Giant Observation Wheel and see the twinkling London lights below.

Ride a traditional carousel or brave the giant loops of nine different rollercoasters at the fairground.

Get the Father-Christmas-style belly laughs going at the Winter Wonderland Comedy Club.

Create your very own ice sculpture at the Ice Sculpting workshops.

book your accommodation in London here

book a room: booking.com airbnb.com

source: www.visitlondon.com/things-to-do/whats-on/special-events/london-events-calendar

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yuko-wolf-archive · 8 years ago

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Here we go! Some Muse stuff.

Yuko Flandre

Full Name: Yuko Familias Flandre.

Age: 43

Race: Demon (Wolf)

Gender: Male

Profession: Demonic Diplomat, 5th Pool of Sin (Wrath)

Magic:

River boat of the Styx: summons a small wooden raft, able to fit a maximum of 3 people inside of it. The boat is made completely out of wood, and has the full utilities of an amazing wooden boat.

Wisp Manifestation: Yuko is able to bring out the spirits around to aid him in his attacks, the type of utilities he has are dependent on color.

Blue: has water-like properties.

Red: increased force on impact.

black: causes feelings of dread.

White: increases slashing damage.

The wisps can be thrown and are around the size of golf balls.

scythe: 8 feet long, blade is quarter of an inch thick, and is one foot in length

Description: Yuko stand at 6 feet flat, his eyes changing color to various shades of red when, changing depending on his mood. His personality is generally laid back, finding enjoyment in almost all things. He smokes from a metallic pipe, and is extremely quick to anger due to his Sin being Wrath.

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Music Solvand Inaba

Age: 39

Race: Angel (Cat)

Gender: Male

Profession: Angelic Gunslinger

“Loony” Inaba: A personality split from Music, he’s a completely loose canon. He looks almost like a negative picture of the black cat, instead having white fur and ruby red eyes. He’s proficient with shotguns and heavy assault rifles.

Magic:

Summon Armory: (handguns and light rifles).

Lunatic Blue Eyes: Allows “Loony Inaba” to manifest himself from Music, also allowing him to take weaponry in and out of their own private mirror world.

Description: Stands at a height of 5'8. Music has sapphire colored eyes, is never seen without his dark brown cap. Music normally wears a black overcoat and tends to wear two silver earrings in his right ear. His fur color is a pitch black. He has a slight obsession with smoking, one that was attempting to get cut, he instead smokes catnip, just don’t let anyone know it.

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Kamilia Gravel Black

Age: 12 years

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Profession: Musician

Magic:

Spiritual Band: A team of 3 spirits can be summoned along to aid Kamilia in caster both spells and guide her songwriting. There is 1 Drummer, 1 Guitarists, and 1 other vocalist.

Description: The little girl stands at a height of around 3'10, her favorite colors are light grey and black, normally being her colors of choice for her clothing. She generally wears long dresses and blouses, always keeping her hair long and neatly placed around her shoulders.

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Kouri Vel Iku

Age: DECEASED AT 24

Race: (Formerly Fox) Weather Spirit

Gender: Male

Profession: Assistant to Music, Angelic Sniper

Magic:

Temperament Weather: Whatever emotions Kouri feels can manipulate the surrounding area’s weather.

Cloudy equipment: Kouri’s sniper and various other tools can be formed from his cloud-like body.

Description: Kouri stands at a height of 5'9, Wearing a purple vest and always has a rifle on his back. His eyes are filled with clouds, the light blue causing clashing with his darker normal color of blue. His pelt is completely blue, small white patches on his stomach and chest. His body can dissipate into a more ethereal form of clouds.

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Sludge Ver Calavan

Age: 3,500 years

Race: Rat Oni

Gender: Male

Profession: Bartender of Seven Strings

Magic:

Drinking Chains: The locks and chains around Sludge’s neck are able to stretch out to a maximum of four feet, the chains can sap the energy of a person, leaving them with a feeling of wanting to drink alcoholic beverages.

Smallest horns, strongest strength: Sludge possess strength enough to lift and throw 30x his weight, the strength stemming from the horns on his head. As they grow longer, he gets stronger. They can be cut off, but can regrow to ‘full’ height within a month.

Description: Sludge is roughly around the height of 5'4, always seen wearing his bartender outfit or a sleeveless plaid shirt along with a purple kilt. He has horns just underneath his ears and wears a lock and key around his neck along with chains. his fur is a soot-like grey. The chains when stretched out can reach up to 4 ft.

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Rogar Elistaban-verdu Demitori

Age: 58

Race: Turnian (Goat)

Gender: Male

Profession: Mercenary, Dark Knight, Head Chef at Seven Strings

Magic:

Anti-mage Armor: A set of black armor that disrupts spells being cast on the wearer. It is a set of black steel plate mail, It can be summoned and donned on within five minutes.

Dark Ax: A two handed weapon with the ax head stretching roughly 1 foot, the blade half an inch thick.

The pole is about 5’4 from bottom to top.

Description: He’s a ram who stands at 6’ flat, wearing more ‘comfortable’ clothing such as jeans and long sleeve shirts. His fur is a light brown and he has a dark brown spot on his left eye. He tends to be extremely laid back and lazy, rumors of him falling asleep while cooking all in reality are true.

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Alivana (Ali) Von Kalibrin

Age: 50

Race: Turnian (Lion)

Gender: Male

Profession: Servant of the West Angelic Building, Butler

Magic:

Time Manipulation: Using a piece of silver, along with intense training from his former master, Ali is able to stop time for up to an hour while doing harsh physical labor. He can interact with all inanimate objects and adjust them to react within normal time. (I.E. throw a knife, in stopped time, and it flies when time is resumed. If he touches a living being, the being can move freely within the stopped time as long as they remain within 15 feet of the butler.

Description: Ali is a white lion who is 6'2, always seen wearing a suit. He tends to walk everywhere with a silver platter, always smiling and being quite kind to anyone he comes across.

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Vivi Luminari L'Lavallant

Age: 35

Race: Shark

Profession: Dancer

Magic:

Spiritual Dance: using the emotions in his heart, Vivi's dance can manifest into beings of pure energy. These can range from small things such as bugs to even large 12 foot tall dragons. It's all up to how creative the user is. It's an art form easily picked up, but hard to master. It is taught in downtown Silver Turn at the Makantash Theater

Description: Vivi stands at 5'6, his light yellow scales are his second most predominant feature, the most noticeable thing are his eyes which shine a glorious emerald bright and true. He is always wearing flowing clothing which seems at least two sizes big on him with the sleeves extending past the tips of his fingers. His speech patterns are fragmented, not making full sentences.

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Luc Vanti

Age: 40

Race: Demonic (Gryphon)

Profession: Servant to Yuko Flandre

Magic:

Fantasia's weaponry: inspired by writings of old, Luc has the ability to summon weaponry. They range from a long halberd to an ax to a thin and nimble rapier. All weapons seem to have a butterfly and floral pattern engraved and stylized after them.

Description: Luc is 5'9 in height, his feathers are a mix of blue and purple, the base of his feathers being primarily a deep blue. He tends to wear a dark colored suit. The gryphon wears a mask over his eyes, extending out past his face in the shape of a butterfly. The mask is completely metallic.

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Balthazar Kav’Davr

Race: Turnian (Spider)

Profession: Owner of Silver Turn

Magic:

Web Spinnin': allows Balthazar to spin threads of pure emotion, each color holding a different effect than the others.

Red: the color of Anger: increase the power behind strikes and are very suitable as a normal weapon.

Orange: the color of Greed: it increases the want and longing of a target, it can be used on charms or counter-charms to make them more powerful.

Yellow: the color of Fear: it causes a paralyzing effect when wrapped around a target at least once.

Green: the color of Growth: has an absorbing effect, as each attack hits it, the threads become thicker. Max is about 3 inches in diameter.

Blue: the color of Calm: Brings a calming effect to the heart, can be used to deepen the ability of previous strings or abilities, allow them to take an additional beating.

Black: the color of Murder: rises murderous intent in anyone,

White: the color of Purity: Increases pacifistic thoughts and feelings in a person.

Purple: the color of Pride: Increases the confidence of one person.

Description: He stands at about 6'2, with arms out in his back. Balthazar is a jolly fellow, his short fur a pitch black with slight tinges of brown. He tends to wear button up shirts, ones specially made by himself just to accommodate his arms.

#long post #OC: Yuko #OC: Music #OC: Kamilia #OC: Kouri #OC:Sludge #OC:Rogar #OC: Ali #OC: Vivi #OC: Luc #OC: Balthazar

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