#the nautical sadness of it all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

armoreddragon · 3 months

Note

how did you first get into making this stuff? do you enjoy it?

There's a lot of possible answers here.

For a couple years after college, I worked at a laser engraving and cutting shop. Leather was a material we knew we could cut, but nobody ever asked for it, so I looked up some basic info and put together some masks as demo pieces. Then I got fired for unrelated reasons, but decided to keep going with the masks on my own. A decade later, I’m still going.

I've always enjoyed making things. The focused calm of working a craft, the challenge of finding the problems that need solving, followed by the satisfaction of holding in your hands something that hadn't exited before. It’s hard to beat that feeling. If you haven’t done it for a while, I highly recommend making a habit of it.

Sometime in college I realized that if I kept making things just for myself, I would eventually run out of both space in my closet and money in my bank account. So I took the best photos I could of what I had, and started posting it up on Etsy.

In high school ceramics class, I had an idea to try and make a flexible dragon skin out of little bits of clay, all glazed differently. I had no idea how to do this. A friend of mine was like "Yo it sounds like you want to look up how to make chainmail for that." She was right.

I work in architecture by day, and the decision to do that was unrelated but definitely related to my crafting obsession. Designing a kitchen, a café, a house, takes months or years of work, most of which is tedious details like picking tile patterns or looking up exactly what order to layer different sealant tapes to make sure the walls are watertight. Designing a crafting project gives me a creative outlet that is immediate. I can sit down for an afternoon and take an idea from a sketch on trace paper, to a final mask formed up out of leather. There's an excitement to that. A reminder that, yes, I can make cool stuff quickly, without needing to sink two years into a project.

For a while I worked to teach myself to draw. I managed to get pretty decent at sketching from life, with a moderate understanding of anatomy and perspective. I liked art, so I thought I wanted to make art. But I struggled with it. If I was drawing something from my imagination, no matter how well I managed to put the lines down on the paper, I would ultimately look at it and just be sad that it didn't exist in the real world. So eventually I gave up on the drawing part, and focused on the part I seemed to actually care about.

I can't envision a version of myself that doesn't make things. I think on some fundamental level, I measure my worth as a person based on what I put forth into the world. I don't know what else to do.

When you decide to turn a hobby into a business, it of course takes some of the delight away. It's no longer something you do when you want to relax and have some fun. It becomes an obligation, to make and ship orders on time, to pack up your stuff and bring it to craft fairs, to track your expenses and file your taxes, to stay on top of the constantly changing social media landscape. But it also lights a fire under your ass. You can't just keep making the same thing you made three years ago–you have to keep making new stuff, keep improving your techniques, keep reaching for new ideas that have never been made before. You lose some of the joy, but you gain a lot of satisfaction.

All through my childhood I filled my closet with little handicrafts kits, that I got as gifts or that caught my eye when following my dad to the art store. Calligraphy, wood carving, weaving looms, boondoggles, spirographs, knitting, crochet, fancy nautical knots, sculpey, and more that I can't remember. After all those different things, I’m so glad that I found a couple specific crafts that really grabbed me, that take enough work to develop expertise, that have expansive enough applications and possibilities, that I could devote a decade or more of my time to focusing on them.

I’d been interested in the furry fandom ever since little fantasy reading teenager me tried looking for stories where the dragons were the main characters, and I found people online who were doing just that. There’s a powerful do-it-yourself attitude that’s baked into the core of the fandom: The world isn’t giving us the art that we want, so we’re going to make it ourselves. I keep having ideas for things that I want, that don’t exist yet. If I want them to exist, I have to be the one to make them.

My dad was a photographer, and I spent many childhood afternoons with him in his darkroom in the basement, delightedly washing negatives, turning them gently over in their canisters of chemicals, sitting still in the dark as Dad unspooled the sensitive film, squinting in the red light as the projected images magically re-emerged on the clean white paper. What could be more amazing, more normal, more right, than having your own little space to work such magic for yourself.

In about 2008 or 9 I ordered my first batch of metal scales, with the idea of trying to make a dragon tail in time for Halloween. It took probably a couple weeks to figure out how to make it, and within a week I had thought of how to do it better and disassembled the entire thing. By the 3rd or 4th time I'd rebuilt it, I thought that it was probably good enough that I wouldn't feel embarrassed to post it online and see if someone might want to buy it.

Of course I love working on these things I make. But I don't think that's exactly why I make them.

#Thoughts #Real Life #creative writing #memoir

37 notes · View notes

gizmo-writes · 9 months

Text

the moon | siren!wilbur

i was listening to phoebe bridgers and then wrote this because im big sad lately

warnings: mentions of drowning, chest pains, no happy ending

You're not sure why this doesn't feel right. Maybe the lights are too bright.. maybe the guitar is out of tune.. maybe the smile on Wilburs face is just a bit too big... whatever it is, you just can't place it. You're supposed to be enjoying this, you're supposed to be happy, smiling, dancing. But you can't, you feel like you can't move from your spot. You are stuck standing, watching Wilbur as he plays his guitar. He's singing happy birthday, a huge smile on his face. This is all you've ever wanted so why doesn't it feel right? Why does it feel so wrong? So out of place? It makes your heart ache, your chest hurt.

It's odd, the way the room is full of people you're not sure you've ever met. Some faces you recognize and some you aren't even sure you've ever seen before. The room is decorated in a blue theme.. why blue? You don't like blue, you don't hate it but you don't love it either. So why is it blue? Why are there anchors and nautical themed decorations? You hate the ocean, despise it. It has scared you since you were a little kid so why was the room filled with decorations from your deepest fears.

As Wilbur finishes singing, the room is filled with people clapping, friends cheering. You clap, you smile just like how you feel like you're supposed to. "Come up here, come say something!" Wilbur called out. You're unsure but your legs are moving before you can even stop them. You walk towards him, he kisses you on the cheek and you blush. "Happy birthday." He whispers to you before placing you in front of the microphone. You stare out at the crowd, confused but smiling. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. It's not that you can't talk, it just feels like something is coming up your chest, through your throat. Next thing you know you're coughing.

You cough up the water in your lungs, your head forced to the side from the force of the water coming out of your mouth. "Oh, god. Oh thank god." Wilbur said, grabbing your face. You stare up at him wide eyed and coughing. "Breathe, just breathe." He says, holding your face. You can barely hear him, it feels like there's water in your ears. You're freezing and shaking. "Breathe." Wilbur said, using his magical voice. Now you're taking a deep breath, chest rising and falling. "Good, good. Okay, that's good. Keep breathing." Wilbur said.

You don't even remember what happened, why you're shaking and freezing. Why Wilbur is wearing his mask. You reach up, shaking hands touching your own mask. "It's still on, it's alright. No one has seen your face. You're safe here." He said, pushing your wet hair from your face. "W-where-" your voice was gravely. "No, don't speak.. we're in the warehouse by the docks.. everyone else is still fighting. But you're safe.. No one's here but us so don't worry." Wilbur explained, stroking your cheek. You nodded, shaking still. "Oh, fuck.." he said, pulling off his trench coat and laying it over you. "This'll warm you up until I'm able to move you. Does anything hurt?" He asked. You nodded. "Where, show me where," he said, looking down at your body. You brought your shaking hand over your chest. He nodded, "okay, that makes sense.. it's just because of the water in your lungs.. but it's okay. You're okay." He said. "I'm sorry, im so sorry. That should've never happened. I'm sorry." He continued, stroking your hair.

You were still confused, staring at him with confusion written on your face. "Y/n.. you jumped in front of me.. you saved me from Dream. I don't know why the hell you would do that." He shook his head, "Why would you ever do that?" He asked. "I-I-" you took a deep breath. Wilbur was about to talk but you brought your hand up to his mouth to tell him to shut up. He shut his mouth. "I-I would give y-you the moon." You stated. He looked at you, confused. It was a simple statement but it said everything it needed to say. He wasn't sure why you would phrase it like that but... deep down he understood. Giving someone the moon, wanting to give someone the moon meant that you were willing to give him everything no matter what it took.

Now... he hurt.. those words hurt him. He had never realized it till now but everything you did was for him.. every time you brought him a snack during syndicate meetings, every time you offered him a ride home after the meetings.. everything you did was for him and he never realized. He had been taking you for granted for months.. for maybe even years. He was unknowingly using you, asking you to pick up his laundry, to grab him dinner, to do things for him just because he knew you would no questions asked. But you only did those things because you loved him. Not because you were a great friend, even thought you were. Not because you felt obligated, you did it because you loved him and he never noticed.

"Y-you okay?" You asked, smiling weakly. "I-I'm sorry.." was all he said, looking down at you with sad eyes. "I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry." He said, holding your face. "I'm sorry.. I'll.. I'll Zephyrus after you but I can't do this.. I'm sorry." Wilbur stood up. You looked up, reaching for him. "D-don't-" you said but he shook his head. "I'm sorry." He stated before leaving, almost like every single time before. You wanted to believe he was leaving because he couldn't see you hurt. You wanted to believe he was leaving because he cared so much that it hurt him. You wanted to believe so badly.. but you knew better.. it took you years but now you knew.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot fanfic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot imagine #siren!wilbur #clinic!wilbur #tommyinnits clinic for supervillains

65 notes · View notes

fictionalmenaremytype · 4 months

Text

Percy Jackson episode 7 spoilers!!!

First of all, that cliff hanger is more cruel than the actual cliffhanger...okay maybe not but you get the point.

- WE GOT CRUSTY'S. If I'm honest though I wasn't really disappointed when I thought he wasn't in it.

- I am sad we didn't get DOA records but the fact that they didn't fare with Charon tells me DOA does still exist they just used a different entrance so I'm hoping for it to be used in a different season. Would be funny if Nico used it in the 5th season with Percy.

- Annabeth's "Dude, don't make me come back out there!" Tell him, WiseGirl!

- Oh my god Percy and Sally at his first boarding school is so sad but when I tell you I cheered when he locked that car door! Persassy at his finest.

- "not in Kansas" "Hey focus, we left kansas four days ago." "Yeah, I-" so it's basically Canon they were going to see the Wizard of Oz in BotL then yeah??

- Percy is so polite with all the souls! "We're all dying...to some extent."

- The boys bribing Charon and Annabeth is staring at them like they are about to get them in trouble again.

- "You can buy a new whistle" I cackled

- AWW CERBERUS...I mean Ahhhh Cerberus!

- Annabeth is so smart but Grover getting eaten?? Was scared he wouldn't come back.

- I feel bad for Aryan being covered in that gloopy stuff that looked gross.

- She just chucks Percy the ball to get herself up! INGENIUS!

- Aww Annabeth's little sad backstop moment and Percy wasn't even listening!

- The way Grover lost the pearl is very clever! I wasn't expecting that but it makes more sense than Poseidon forgetting about Sally.

- New Information?!?!? Mate you could have sent an email!!!! I'm sorry but maybe the fact he was on the school gymnasium roof probably suggests that the school wasn't keeping a good enough watch on him!!! Report the school!!!

- HOMESCHOOL??!?!?! Of course Sally can't do that she's barely able to support her, Percy, and Gabe as is! But Percy seeing all of that is so sad.

- That soul is terrifying I never want to watch the fields of Asphodel scene again (I've watched it four times)

- Annabeth getting stuck because of her regret (which I'm assuming is regret leaving home) I was scared for her. Completely forgot about the pearl.

- I really thought the sound were going to do some Weeping Angel level scary stuff.

- She's so smart using the pearl

- I thought the desert was another dream sequence but nope! How did I forget!

- Sad we didn't get the tartar sauce line but I'm also glad we didn't.

- I am convinced they only came off of Grover's hooves because he has hooves and not feet. If his foot filled the shoe properly he would have been dragged to Kronos.

- "is this?" "No!" "Well it looks like-" "it absolutely is not" "Okay, so what is it then?" "Yeah that's the master bolt." "I mean, I think so right??" I love how they show it takes them longer to get to the truth without Annabeth.

- return the bolt ❌️ Take the bolt to the person you think stole it ✅️

- The café scene is so sad what! "I would never do this to you." Has me sobbing. my favourite thing about the show is all the extra scenes we're getting that explains how difficult it was for Sally to raise Percy, it just adds to why there's so many year-round campers.

- that elevator is badass

- I love how Hades tries to connect with Percy with the nautical reference. He's so funny. I want a scene in season 4 or 5 of Nico just ranting in Italian and Hades sat on his thrown like "Yeah yeah I know."

- PERCY DEFINITELY PANICKED SEEING HIS MUM IM GOLD BECAUSE WHEN HE WAS IN GOLD HE ALMOST SUFFOCATED TO DEATH AND SALLY HAS BEEN LIKE THIS FOR FAR LONGER. HE'S PANICING THAT SALLY IS EXPERIENCING WHAT HE DID.

- "huh?"..."the bolt is my brothers drama I don't want anything to do with it." Spoken like a true middle child.

- "my helm!" "Your what?" So funny. Percy knows loads of stuff about Greek mythology but not about the helm.

- Oh my god, the way this is setting Annabeth up to be the traitor??? The helm turns people invisible like her hat. Percy realised he was supposed to be dragged to Tartarus, which would make sense why she saved him from the chair...he knows someone partnered with Ares, and both Annabeth and Ares were upset with Athena when Ares arrived!! Kind of suspicious...

- "Kronos." chills.

- Hades helping them in exchange for the bolt makes sense now because he only wants to defend his land. He's thinking he's the closest to Tartarus, so he will experience his father's wrath first and therefore needs the strongest weapon.

- "Nice pearl?"

- "Hold fast mum."

- Sally burning the milkshake as an offering is so smart but WHAT CAFÉ HAS MATCHED IN THE SUGAR BOWL?!?!?

- The way Poseidon just turned up because Sally needed him <3 (couldn't do that for Percy though could you mate?)

- "it's a him, he saw it." I cackled.

- Poseidon and Sally having that kind of relationship where they put feelings aside to help the other person. It's giving besties with a child.

- "one day...one day when he's ready...when he knows who he is...and where he belongs...and fate has revealed to him his true path...and that day..." And that day is next Wednesday because surprise! Its a cliff hanger! And the end of the episode!

- The way they looked at eachother when they realised what was about to happen though has set them up to be such a perfect trio.

- I will never get over how cool Ares is!

- And riptide/anaklusmos (which for non book readers is the name of Percy's sword) looked so sick.

This episode was so good and I'm so glad it wasn't like a 25 minute episode. Even though the actual content only took 36 minutes, it felt well spaced and gave time to understand what was happening. I am a little teensy bit worried for how the last episode will go as there's quite a lot to cram in. They have to find the Helm and fight Ares and then they have to return to camp so I'm a little bit worried but I have faith that Rick, Aryan, Leah and Walker will pull it off.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo tv show #pjo series #grover underwood #leah sava jeffries #aryan simhadri #walker scobell #percy jackson episode 7

33 notes · View notes

aquaquadrant · 5 months

Note

hi, apologies if I’m using this wrong I’ve never really interacted on tumblr before.

but I’ve been following your HTP au and as many other previous asks have mentioned, it has consumed my soul and I love it.

however, I have been thinking about something and I wanted to ask if you/y’all. Apologies if you’ve been asked this before, but I didn’t see it anywhere.

So the helsmit’s names, very cool very cool (largishlegumes made me cackle when I read it for the first time) but for a while I was wondering why Bravo didn’t have a similar name to Tango, other than the fact that they’re from the military/NATO phonetic alphabet. However! I’m a nerd and I remembered something just now. Each of those words that represent a letter is also connected to a specific nautical flag used for signaling. And those flags have meanings! B - Bravo means “dangerous cargo”

T - Tango means “keep clear of me”

And that is hilarious. Also very fitting for their characters! And also kinda sad if you think about Tango’s whole attitude towards himself, “keep clear of me” definitely makes sense.

I know y’all have only vaguely mentioned this bc of spoilers but like something along the lines of reflecting how Tango’s more of a good person than Bravo is? Hmm

anyway, idk if y’all knew the flag meanings before you made this AU, but it’s very fitting which makes me think you did. If so, very smart! That’s a whole extra layer of thought and angst that others may or may not have recognized. If not, well that’s very fitting and a fun coincidence.

alright well that’s all from me for now. Keep up the great work both of y’all.

oh man i really wish i could claim that this had been the intent behind the names all along, but NOPE 😂 i was not, in fact, aware of the flag meanings. i literally just chose bravo because it’s part of the military alphabet and sounds similar phonetically (tan-go, bra-vo). plus, it’s higher up in the alphabet so it matches w bravo’s superiority complex. so, fitting and fun confidence!

i did originally consider a better corresponding name, like another dance term to match tango. see, i’ve had this au idea for a WHILE (like, since helsknight was a Thing) but in between then and now, there have been many hels!tango’s in the community and i didn’t wanna use any of the names that had been used already, so that kinda ruled out the dance terms approach (waltz was a personal fave of mine, as it’s a great contrast to the tango style of dance but both are partnered ballroom styles).

so this is where we landed. very neat to know there’s another meaning behind the names.

#hels to pay au #HTP ask #ofc i don’t think there’s anything wrong w using the same/similar names for a hels concept #after a certain point it’s gonna be hard to come up w smth that’s never been used by someone else #esp if it’s for a character that’s popular to make hels for #but since bravo is one of the main characters AND a new spin on the idea #(ie. he is the overworlder instead of the hels)#i wanted it to be more unique to the au

40 notes · View notes

ittsybittsybunny · 4 months

Text

PJO Review Episode 8: The Prophecy Comes True

Things I Liked:

Percy and Ares Fight

I was so excited about this fight, and I liked how they showed Percy training with Luke (in more ways than one). Also, Poseidon coming into for the assist because yes Percy is going to win, but he is still 12. And for now and forever, it will be on sight! (Though no curse???)

Meeting Zeus

Lance Reddick was the perfect level of intimidating and standoffish. The entire time Percy was mouthing off I was so concerned for him!

Enter Poseidon

Toby Stephens is the world's best sad and nautical actor I swear. He looks just enough like Walker, and the hand grab behind the neck. Their looks - ACTING!!!!

Grover

I love your hat and searcher's license! Godspeed my good friend.

The Necklace

The way they looked at each other, the trust, the hope 😭

Things I Didn't Like

The Betrayal of Luke

Though not for the reason I thought. I do hate the exposition dump of "Luke is the traitor" more because it fits the pattern of exposition dumping. I think Percy did have the information to put that together, and I genuinely love the idea of Luke trying to recruit him! He probably would have. I was confused by Backbiter, but that is apparently book-accurate, and just never used again???

Annabeth Was There

Annabeth loves and trusts Luke, which is a big part of her (SPOILERS) holding up the sky, and then even trying to save him later. It seems odd to have her hear everything and then be willing to trust him come season 3, and believe in him season 5. I hope they show her struggling with this in the future!

Dream Timeline

I am honestly confused by the end of the show there. Apparently, summer is over but they're wearing jackets in August in NY and then it cuts to his mom and a dream, and then awake. So, I think perhaps it's supposed to be all real except the dream? Not great differentiation for me though.

Gabe Turned to Stone

Why do we keep taking away Sally's agency and choice to turn him to stone? It happened as an end-type scene in the movie too, but I really wish they stopped taking away her decision. She deserves to turn her abuser by choice, not by his own stupidity.

Pacing

I love the first half of the episode, but I feel like they somehow had too much time and not enough action at the end.

TLDR: 7/10 - I loved the beginning especially Percy's interaction with Poseidon. "Grandpa" Kronos made me laugh louder than anything. But, I still think the pacing was weird toward the end, and I wish Annabeth hadn't been there to confront Luke.

Here's to next season folks!!!

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv #spoiler #annabeth chase #luke castellan #grover underwood #poseidon #zeus

27 notes · View notes

habit-poxly · 1 year

Text

father neptune (pt.3)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

sea monster-hunter au!

description: The Ghost of the sea has been plaguing your mind since you first laid your eyes on him, your longing for him are starting to grow unbearable. Ghost can’t help but feel the same, desperately seeking out your presence.

warnings: strong horror elements, discussions of alcoholism, chronically sad behaviour

word count: 3.5k

masterlist | Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

Tiny speckles of flame dance out the open window and into the ocean breeze, she had always admired the view- it made the lonely moments lazing at her windowsill more bearable, the sea birds keeping her plenty company as they perch on the jagged rocks that adorned the cliffside. She tore another bit of paper and lit it with her lantern, letting it flicker out in into the garden. Delicate lace curtains danced into the bedroom around her, flowing down from the short ceiling. It was a good spot to linger during the day, the house positioned at the top of a tall cliff-face; where she would have a perfect view of the weary Maritimes who would mindlessly wander through her waters and onto her beach.

It was her beach, after all, at least she thought so. The villagers had long since agreed, deserting the area completely by nightfall. She had made the beach her personal chapel, the place where she would go to pray, to howl and scream at whatever God was listening, to whoever would take her grief and hold it as their own. The beach was a holy site now, one to be treated like it, so she would grant it nights of peace. Nights where she would wander down the shoreline in silence, watching the waves or the seagulls, or the occasional seal if she were lucky.

Her grief would come in like waves, pulling her in and out of dark waters, tearing and tossing with strong enough currents to drag her under. Her bones creaked with the weight of it all, far too large and far too heavy to unpack right now, there simply wasn't time. She would spend her days and nights in agony, staring alone at the ceiling and counting the cracks, studying the bookcase or the vanity; but no, there was never any time to try to get better.

If you were to ask, 'why are you in such pain?', she would struggle to find an answer. It was something not meant to be articulated, the words were too misshapen to fall from her lips, 'all of it' may serve as an accurate answer. She was well aware average individuals did not do what she did, yet she was allowed to without consequence-, so she did.

It had been two months since the familiar and daunting shadow of the hunting ship had nestled onto your land. This side of the island had received little of the recent horrific weather, you assume wherever the crew had come from in Britain had been hit rather hard though- seeing the prolonged absence. Frankly, after their last encounter she was rather surprised they had dared come back at all. You had only caught a glimpse of him a few times, from around rock faces or sneaking onto their ship to take a peek.

He wore the mask all the time, you had gathered. Not that it was a particular bother, he was still rather attractive. It was always exciting when he came around, none of the men in the village were particularly appealing, so seeing him was a welcome treat, even if his face was always covered. He was large, the largest in his crew and the largest man you had ever seen. He was tall- 195cm or so- and very well built. His arm was covered in nautical-themed tattoos; something rather taboos in English areas.

When the men had followed you down the beach, you had been completely unaware, simply stumbling along completely lost within yourself. Only when the Captain of the ship had stuck his face into the cave, leaving mere inches from yours, did you break from your focus. The rest ran away, certain you were some sort of monster like everyone else who came past you, yet he stayed. He spoke with you- or tried to. It was why you had returned his friend's boots, it's why you kept the large metal harpoon with the ship's name engraved into it. He was kind, or some part of him was, something in him was good.

'What will you do if I've always been cursed?'

She had answered that question nightly since. She'd cry for him, pray for him. She had always been cursed too, sentenced to suffer for eternity. She was the curse, the ghost of this land, and she had grown content with that. No one had ever placed it upon her to her knowledge, but she lived in it. Surely it was the same for him, his curse being cast on himself by himself, his own executioner just as you had been.

The Ghost of the sea was a stranger to you, someone you had never formally met, yet you were certain you knew him, loved him even. You dreamt of him, not nightly, yet often enough to leave you aching for sleep in the mornings. It was a longing, something deep and full, nestled painfully into a tender spot in your heart. The dreams would vary, sometimes he would sweep you away onto his boat and take you to the mainland, sometimes you two would settle here- hanging laundry together in the yard. Surely he wasn't the type to wish to settle down with you, take you as his wife and have a family with you, he'd always belong to the sea. Even if the fantasy came true, you imagine yourself still weeping on the shores in the future, sobbing prayers for his safe return when the ocean inevitably calls him back.

He wouldn't need you either, a man of his age and unmarried was probably self-assured, surely he wouldn't need to be taken care of.

His ship bobbed in the distance, they had long settled in the water outside the dock, you had watched three of them paddle in on a small boat about three hours ago. Guilt had tinged your gut at the sight, there was no doubt they wouldn’t dock because of you. The thought of finding them at the bar and apologizing had crossed your mind, yet the idea of confronting the group of rugged hunters who believed you were a supernatural being frightened you somehow.

With a sigh, you push from your spot at the window and place your feet on the dark wood floor. The room was simple, having a large bed with many quilts stacked on top, an ornate vanity, a bookshelf, a clothes trunk, and a large basket of different yarns. Taking some water from the water basin on your vanity you splash it on your face, your cheeks stained with salty tears.

The old floorboard creaked under your weight as you descended the steep stairs. Your father built this house a very long time ago, but your hands have been filling the cracks in the plaster for a long time as well. You hardly remembered them- your parents. They had left things behind of themselves, bits and clues as to who they were, what they liked, and how they acted, but nothing ever gave a clear picture.

The exterior details of the house had been painted and repainted over many times, the plaster remained white while the trim and window frames were painted a fading green. It was traditional and simple, it lacked the luxury of indoor plumbing and heated water that those in the mainland had- but it was quiet and sweet.

You make the slow, laboured journey into the living room and allow your weight to fall onto the couch. The heat from the twisting fire in the brick fireplace danced on the tip of your nose. On the mantle stood a well-made, boat model, one someone had clearly made meticulously. You didn't remember where you got it, it didn't matter though, the care someone put into it made it sentimental to you. Someone, a long time ago, someone with hobbies and a favourite book and music they liked to made this, they aren't here anymore but what they left behind is, that made it special.

Behind it hung the Bravo 141's harpoon, litter, you had deemed it. Sure, perhaps the crew did want it back, but they had been the ones to leave it behind, it was as simple as finders keepers.

Your eyes gaze out the living room window, outside the cloths strung on your clothesline dance out towards the ocean in the wind. It was unfortunate how often you had to wash your clothes, the seawater making them filthy and uncomfortable when just left to air dry. With how often your nights take you to the water's edge, every dress had to be soaked, scrubbed and dried in a delicate process. You only had two white dresses, both elegant nightgowns, both of which were your favourites out of every other dress in your trunk.

Only one was hung out, though. Its sleeves were long and loose- much like everything else about the dress. Ribbed lace lined the hems and seams and a thin bow was strung across the front of the wide collar. The light fabric tossed in the breeze, the momentary sun warming the yard.

As your eyes scan through the narrow window, two distant figures appear on the dirt trail leading down from your property. It was odd, no one had ever walked over this far from town before. And certainly no one had done the winding hike to your property.

They continue walking- now the figures clear as two tall men- and slowly approach the small front gate. They pause at the fence, both peering at the house intensely for a moment. Men in town don't dare wander over to this side of the island- they all think it's infested with kelpies- so without good reason, it shouldn't be any of them. You stand and place yourself against the wall beside the window before quickly drawing the curtains to a close. It would be clear they could see it, and it would be clear you wished to be left alone.

You wait a moment before peeking through the again to get a good look, and the two men were still there. Now, getting a semi-clear view of their faces you saw Ghost and the Captain from the ship, standing side by side seemingly speaking about the house. Looking back to the white dress hanging outside you cringe, it had been the same one you were wearing the night you had met them- distinctly so.

Regardless of the bubbling anxiety in your stomach, your eyes danced over Ghost- who was now leaning his forearms onto the fence, posture slumped and tense. He tugged the black coat he was wearing further over his shoulders, he was wearing a hat this time- a patterned newsboy hat. It wasn't typical ‘pirate regalia’, he just seemed like a regular upperclass english man plucked from the streets of London- wildly out of place.

The bearded man would wave his hands while he spoke, motioning to the house, then to the boat and then out to sea, clearly trying to convey some kind of point or plan. After a painful few minutes, the men simply turn and leave, not speaking another word to each other. Ghost turned back several times- far too many- eyes always wanting to return to the house as they tracked down the road. Then, the men disappeared over the hillside, leaving nothing but an empty valley once again.

In silence you walk to the front door and open it, taking a few steps out onto your rocky yard. Your eyes scan over the hill intently, your heart silently begging to see him walk into view again. Perhaps finding the house was all the confirmation the two had needed of her being a person, not an unexplainable creature to keep them up at night. It felt selfish to wish it any other way, to wish him too long for and be tortured with thoughts of you, but at least that meant he'd come back- that he'd want to see you.

It was yet another thing to add to the list of her grief, she'd already mourned for what he had lost, why wouldn't she mourn for his loss as well?

Love was never something that others planted in her, no one had sewn those seeds into her soul and nourished them to grow, no one cared too teach her how- so how could she possibly love now? If she has nothing to give, if there is something broken inside of her that can never be fixed, how could anyone possibly love her? In her youth, she put off the idea that one day she would find a husband, one who cherished her as she wanted, and as she remained unmarried into her 20's she all but abandoned the idea completely- until she saw him.

There was nothing particular about Ghost- other than his unique profession and choice of face covering- that drew her to him, in fact, he had been a complete mess many of the times they had staggered here. It had been very clear that not a single man on board had his drinking nor smoking under control. When they would leave the pub in the early morning hours they would drunkenly yell and sing and dance through the dirt roads of the small village- driving the single, lonely, old, solitude-seeking men residing in it up the walls.

There had been no struggle over ownership of the beach, all the men simply conceded and dropped the issue, only occasionally whispering of the shoreline ghost- until the Bravo 141 crew arrived. Their 'every so often' drunken disturbances quickly grew to biweekly as the ship started to linger around the island more and more.

It seemed minor to the crew, but to the 40 or so villagers it was the only out-of-place event to happen- nearly- ever. After the first two times, you had noticed the villagers beginning to turn out all their lights- insisting on and on about the 'ghost on the beach'. It was clear that the intention was to scare this group of sailors away like many of the sailors who had done the same, yet these men were sea monster hunters, and often far too involved in their own world to care about or notice the strange activities.

Remaining a third party, sitting looking over the unlight buildings while being used as the reason for it all was rather amusing. Clearly at whatever town meeting had taken place -to which you are never invited- no man had wanted to be the one to tell the crew to not come back. And obviously the town had decided that you simply would not care if they pinned it on you, which they were correct.

You stand in place for a moment longer- admiring how the setting sun split the clouds and how the evening breeze was beginning to rush up the cliffside. Your eyes moved back to the dusty path one last time in silent hope his head would peek over the horizon. It was so silly- you thought- standing around waiting for him, it made you feel foolish in a way, like a small child with a crush in another.

Even after settling back inside, after pacing up and down the hall and retreating to your bedroom the feeling of unrest weaved into you. It was unshakeable, steadfast in staying with you regardless of reason. Laying on your bed you memorize the cracks in the ceiling- ones you'd have to fix on your own. Your room was rather small, furniture and decorations all mixed in different colours and styles- a small collection of the simple joys you took from what you could.

A loud, rough knock shakes the walls of the house, the wooden door rattling on its hinges from the force. The knocking lasted for a few seconds before stopping, leaving the house in its familiar quiet. You raise from your bed, casting yourself a quick glance in the mirror before exiting your room. When you reach the mid of the stairs the knocking starts again, louder this time- more frantic sounding.

"Coming." You call, causing the knocking to promptly stop. Placing your hands on the wooden door you open it a crack, just enough to let you peek through. On the other side stood Ghost, his imposing form completely blocking the doorway. His eyes snap to yours, a stern look apparent on his face despite the black mask he wore. You suck a deep breath in as you examine the top part of his face up close. Deep scars scrapped across his forehead and browbone- no doubt extending down the entire length of his face. His blue eyes bore into yours as he placed a firm hand on the door, pressing it to open.

"Let's talk." His eyes soften in a silent plea, his . Dark bags hung heavy under them, far too heavy to be purely from lack of sleep- clearly something had been eating at him

"What?" You stutter out, confusion clouding your tone. taking a small step back from the door to give him room. Instantly he takes the opportunity, giving a slight apologetic look.

He pushes the door open just enough for him to squeeze himself through, hands placing themselves on your forearms and pulling you close to him. "Listen to me-" His chest vibrated as he spoke, deep Manchester accent sending shivers down your spine when he softly tugged you even closer.

“Hold on-” You go to take a startled step back up his grip tightens. His eyes grow sterner, brows tightening together at your action.

"For two months all I've bloody been able to think about is you- Just talk to me." His gentle grip on your arms tightens and loosen- as if he was trying to expel excess energy- like he was trying to control himself. He was a giant, hardly fitting in the small entryway of your house and seeming starkly out of place because of it. Softly you bring your hands to rest on his chest, he inhales a quick breath- waiting for you to push him away and out, but instead, your fingers softly brush over the fabric of his shirt and you nod.

Ghost takes a deep inhale in as his body tenses. "What are you? A siren, selkie?" His words come out nearly as whispers. Your nose scrunched at the question, making Ghost's heart beat faster at the sight.

"I'm a human, a real human woman." You huff, applying light pressure to his chest. This earns a soft chuckle from the man, one that was purely intoxicating.

His hands roam down the sides of your body slowly before settling on your waist. He confirms your statement with a hum, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You squirm under his intense gaze, you had only dreamt of moments like these, but the way he gripped the flesh of your hips was far better in reality then in your head.

When you do push off his chest his eyes don't leave your form, fixated on your every move as they hungrily wash over you. You close the door behind him as a large rush of cold air comes in and gently tug at the black coat around his shoulders. He allows you to peel it off him, an action causing an intimate air to bloom, it had become nearly suffocating to Ghost. It was so effortlessly domestic, as if you had instantly taken to tending to him.

He had never recalled a time feeling flustered by a woman, not until you peered up at him with doe eyes and traced your fingers over his chest. It sent his body into overload, he was sure he could control himself, but it was growing harder and harder the longer he stood in your presence. You hang his coat on a hook on the front door before softly taking his hand and leading him into the living room.

He sits rigidly beside you on the ornament couch, his well up together appearance making him seem wonderfully at home in the neatly decorated room. His hand doesn't leave yours when he sits- he doesn't let it- his grip lingers far beyond when the moment has passed, yet Simon could bring himself little to care. Clearly, the woman in front of him didn't mind, and if a gorgeous woman allows him to touch her who was Simon to say no?

"What's your question?" You ask softly, he notes how small your hands feel in his, completely dwarfed in comparison. His eyes dart to study your face for far too long of a moment, far too intimately.

"Start with your name." He says, his thumb beginning to absent-mindedly rub over the flesh of your fingers. You imagine all those years screaming over the waves had left his vocal cords raw- somehow making his voice impossibly deeper.

"It's been so long since I've been called one- I don't think I have one anymore. Other than 'ghost'- but with us both I think it would get confusing." You shrug, he gives you a odd look, one painted in slight concern over something you couldn't put your finger on.

"Call me Simon." He says sternly, eyes squinting slightly.

"Simon." You repeated to yourself, the name flowing off your tongue with a sweet taste. It sounded sweet to Simon too, he swore he had never heard his name said so tenderly before, so perfectly.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Simon?"

taglist: @blueoorchid @@hoe4myers @yjhariani @lexi-zsy09 @galaxieshearme @tumblinginoz @icepancakes @iluvweasleys @crunchlite

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 au #cod x reader #x my posts #x father neptune #x codmw2 ff

116 notes · View notes

tokillamockingbird427 · 1 month

Note

yo this makes me think of Logan idk it just feels like such shattering wistful sadness

just babbling to myself Hesh lying there on the shore (at night instead of day?) after Logan was dragged away, looking up at the stars him and Lo would see every night alone in the woods together as kids out hunting or camping or their Hell week

T_T

Any song that mentions California is automatically a Logan or Hesh song.

ALSO! May I point out the title has "Stars" and also Hesh has those nautical star tats on the back of his right bicep! Fate.

I fucking love the "Same Sky" motif thing and you've just reminded me of it. Them looking at the same stars together, and then them being separated... but still under the same sky.

I also have the idea to use that motif in my Post Sand Viper Pre Odin WIP I have! Plan is to end the whole fic with it; All the Ghosts separated but comforted knowing they're still under the same sky as their fellows. (Which is very important to them because they need to know they're not alone.)

#Logan + Hesh being stargazers is such a lovely/important hc to me RARRARAR #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #logan walker #hesh walker #girl-shapedisopod #I fucking love your username btw lmao

13 notes · View notes

telltaleangelina · 2 months

Text

TC tag game Thank you for the questions and for tagging me @renaultphile Rules: Answer the questions and tag other TC fans

"He would not fucking say that" only they did and it's canon. When/who?

I don’t think I’ve read it enough to have a sense of something like this. I really disliked Laurie’s scenes with Adrian though. So it’s not so much ‘he wouldn’t say that’ as ‘I would prefer to ignore the fact that he said/did that.'

2. Did they kiss in the study? Yes/no + why you are 100% correct about this.

I think they did. The first time I read it, I didn't really wonder if something had happened, only what had happened: I didn’t know if they’d only kissed or done anything more. Later, it seemed to be confirmed by Ralph’s letter that they’d not done ‘anything more,’ I just assumed it was a kiss, and I don’t really think the dialogue following the ellipses makes much sense without anything having happened. “Now you see what I mean, Spud. It would never have done, would it? Well, goodbye.” What could Laurie have seen if there was nothing besides a hug or handshake or something? What would never have done? Why ask him to ‘come here’ at all?

3. Mandatory question about Ralph's alleged tattoos.

I really don’t think he’d have any, but if he did I think it'd probably be something nautical.

4. 53 vs 59 edition: quote a line or paragraph that is better in the edition you like the least.

I don’t know which of them I read and I definitely haven’t read another addition, so I can’t answer this. Apparently, the earlier one had more detail and dialogue, so if I haven’t I’d love to read it

5. Which TC character would feel right at home here on tumblr dot com?

Sandy, I think he'd be great on here.

6. Tag yourself at Alec's birthday party.

Laurie reading a book or Laurie just at the beginning, sitting around awkwardly, listening to people’s conversations and wondering how on earth he ended up there.

7. Post a TC meme

The first I ever saw (on the Mary Renault tag) and still the funniest to me, I think because I understand it perfectly

8. Easy to talk about who deserved better. Who deserved worse?

Straike, I hate him with a fiery passion. The man had a dog put down, not because he was sick or anything but simply because he couldn’t be bothered to care for him. Vicar? Ridiculous.

9. You can break the fourth wall (at any point in the novel) and say a single sentence to our protagonist, Laurie Odell. What do you say?

'This is not Ancient Greece, stop being weird,' at the exact moment Andrew is telling him his traumatic life-story and Laurie is preoccupied worrying about Dave. Also related to the question, but not really asked for: if I could I’d also tell Andrew he doesn’t have to feel ashamed of how he feels about Laurie. Well, more accurately, I’d give him a modern copy of ‘Quaker Faith & Practice’ and have the relevant passages highlighted, so I know he won’t miss them. It makes me very sad for both Andrew and Dave that their whole lives could've been very different (and much happier) if they were born four or five generations later.

9. What's a question you have about TC? One you haven't found an answer for yet.

I can't think of any, besides wondering how Mary Renault could've written it because it's so good. I love the use of subtext, the way she describes emotions you've felt before but never would've been able to put into words on your own. In terms of characters and story, I do have a random question about Bunny: was it supposed to be implied that he was a perpetrator of sexual assault? I got that idea when I was reading the car scene between him and Laurie but I was unsure.

I don't know who to tag! I think all of the Charioteer accounts I know have already been tagged, but if anyone hasn't and wants to, I'd love to read your response!

#mary renault #the charioteer #tag game!

17 notes · View notes

descendantofthesparrow · 2 years

Text

Touch starved - Harry Hook x reader - Oneshot

blame @hanas-headcanons for this yall

Harry-being from the isle, didn’t grow up with normal affection, the most you got physically was fist bumps, baps on the head, punching each other as hard as you could (for funsies~) and the very rare; pats on the back.

Yeah…isle kids didn’t get much affection growing up, leading many many to be touch starved. Such as the C4; Mal would smack at and basically hiss at anyone that tried to touch her that wasn’t Ben or her friends, only to actually melt into Ben’s arms when he hugged her gently. Evie thrived on physical affection, taking every chance she got to huddle up to someone she was close to. Jay loved being just-squished, happy to be the pillow or mattress. Carlos was the most-skittish of the three- he preferred gentle touches and soft hugs, preferring to be the one laying on Jay instead of being under Evie or Mal.

So Harry ended up being…adverse to touch, he didn’t like it, plain and simple. Only people close to him had permission to touch him, Uma and his sisters being the few with that permission. Then he met you, a bright, affectionate, cheery sunspot that suddenly crashed into his life when he arrived in Auradon.

You were just a quiet thing, sitting in the back of the class with your nose buried in your sketchbook. whenever the teacher called on you; you knew the answer, not even looking up from your art. He didn’t know what had drawn him to you, maybe it was that comforting personality you had, maybe it was your soft smile, or maybe it was that you had never judged him for all his mental bullshit.

He just one day realized oh, there you are; as you were laughing about your stupid joke about pirates. That was the day he admitted to himself tha the had fallen in love. He had confessed soon after, and realized you might be a bit more work than he thought, not in a bad way but-you were and are an EXTREMELY affectionate person, he could tell you wanted to hug him when he told you his feelings, but you settled for taking his hands and shaking them about. He felt a little bad, one of the huggiest girls at Auradon prep and she ended up with the one dude who hated hugs.

He remembered telling you so before you really even became friends ‘I hate hugs. Never got em never wanted em’ he could feel the pity coming from you, or maybe it was just sadness in general. “you’ve never been hugged?” you had sounded so broken, as if just the thought hurt you to the core. But after you got together, you compromised, you could do whatever you wanted with his hands, hold em, play with em, anything, just-don’t hug him without a week's warning.

But one day, Harry was fully distracted, and you were too, bouncing around the room hyped up from your art project being accepted for the nautical art competition, leaping towards Harry and into his arms, laughing as he went stone still; snapped out of his daydream.

“oh, crap-im so sorry Harry! I got so caught up in my emotions and-and” you started to pull away, face flushed in embarrassment before Harry held you tight, practically melting into your arms “Harry?”

“where ‘ave ye been all me life” Harry grumbled, his arms around your waist tight and unbreakable, he-he was hugging you. “fuck” you beamed, realizing Harry-liked- your hugs. You quickly held him again, rubbing your face against his head, giggling as he gasped and snuggled into you “fuck” you laughed louder, oh he was just so cute. “pirate puddle” you teased as Harry muttered curses, his cheek smushed into your shoulder as he pressed his hands to the small of your back. One of your hands started to run through his hair, your fingernails scratching his scalp and Harry felt as if he was going to melt right then and there. He let out a garbled mess of noises and you tilted to the side, landing on his bed and continuing to giggle as Harry practically crawled into your lap, every ounce of his weight being pressed against you. “yeh can hug me whenever ye’ want, jus’ lemme know it’s you first” Harry mumbled, sounding very sleepy, as if just your touch was comforting enough to put his mind at ease to sleep.

You nodded against his head; your lips pressed to his forehead “promise! Promise.” Harry hummed, happy at your response, and moved his face to press into the crook of your neck, smiling against your skin as you giggle at the feeling “told you; hugs are great”

“should’ve listened”

“yep yep”

-end~!-

again, blame Hana for this, they messaged me about touch starved Harry this morning and i just-HAD to, ive been wanting to write TC’d Harry for a while anyway so this just gave me the excuse, gonna do more with different situations, i just wanna see/read Harry fucking shake and melt when (y/n) holds his face for the first time

permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @rintheemolion

@random-thoughts-003 @imtryingthisout @remembered-license

@thecaptainsgingersnap @verboetoperee @saryguerrero

@reallysparklychaos @thetrueghostqueen @dai-tsukki-desu

#disney descendants #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #touch starved isle kids #harry really needed a hug and didnt realize it

407 notes · View notes

danganphobia · 27 days

Note

toshiro and laios college au aquarium date uhm . they need to see some creatures .

Fic under the cut. It gets nsfw later, just a heads up.

They've begun dating only recently, so it took Toshiro by surprise when Laios was the one who asked him where he wanted to go for their second date.

Toshiro blanked out for a second. He was used to going out to most places by himself. He was quite comfortable with his own company. To adapt to bringing Laios along on these ventures was going to take some time. But as he thought about it, the local aquarium came to mind because they were on Spring break from classes, and neither of them had any other plans.

Laios even offered to pick him up this time. Toshiro had been to Laios' home on numerous occasions, yet being in his cramped beat-up truck felt more intimate than all the other home visits.

Asking if Toshiro was comfortable, (Toshiro answered yes), Laios cranked open the windows and turned on the stereo, lowering the volume. Toshiro wondered if he did it for his sake, toning down his rambunctious behaviors, that was. Or else, he would've been singing every song that came on the radio at the top of his lungs.

The aquarium was awfully crowded. It was Spring break, after all. Everyone there had the same idea. Laios bought them both tickets, pushing their way through the herds of nautical lovers and all the like.

"What do you wanna see first?" Laios asked, gently grasping Toshiro's hand, making his heart rate speed up. This was something else that threw Toshiro off. Laios would've already dragged them to the first exhibit that caught his eye. He was being extremely attentive today. He was spoiling Toshiro, rather.

And it felt... really nice, to have Laios' attention on him; like he was special.

"Whichever you want," Toshiro said, trying to test the waters. Also, because being put on the spot like this was overwhelming. "I don't mind."

Laios squeezed his hand and said, "what kind of animals you like? I know there's not much bug-stuff here, but..." He laughed, under the dark blue hue of the lights, pink was visible on his cheeks. "I wanna know more about what you like, and why you like it. Helps me know more about you."

Toshiro, speechless, had to kick himself back into reality. Why did he have to be so disgustingly thoughtful? And why did he find that so attractive?

He had to remind himself that just about anything he said would be fascinating to Laios. It didn't matter how simple, or silly. He shouldn't have to think so hard about it.

"Have you heard of Ryujin?" The question escaped Toshiro's lips before he could stop himself. He almost wanted to flee from the sparkle in Laios' eye, because Toshiro was about to enlighten him about something of his own accord, not because Laios forced it out of him.

"I think so! They're dragons that control the ocean, right?" His enthusiasm made Toshiro smile, guiding him to the fish exhibit first.

"Ryujin is a deity, or a dragon god, not multiple. But you were close," he answered, Laios grinning in triumph. "I'll tell you about a story written long ago... there was this princess named Tamatori, a beautiful pearl diver tasked to retrieve a stolen pearl for her son..."

As Toshiro explained, Laios nodded eagerly, listening along. Toshiro wasn't very confident in his storytelling skills, but Laios made it so easy. Tamatorihime's story was just one of the many examples of why sea creatures and the ocean was part of his culture, showing Laios' the fish that swam around behind the glass exhibit. He'd gasp in awe as if he were picturing Toshiro's story vividly, like he was there... and it was quite adorable.

"Did she get the pearl?" Laios asked. He wasn't as interested in the sea creatures because he was engaged in Toshiro's story instead.

"Yes, she did," Toshiro replied, Laios sighed with relief, but Toshiro had to break the sad news to him. "She hid the pearl within her breast. She cut it open to do so, and she bled out."

"What?" Laios gasped. "Did she survive?"

Toshiro shook his head. "But it was an honorable sacrifice she made for her husband and son." His eyes widened when he heard Laios' sniffling, tears in his eyes. "L-Laios?! What's wrong?!"

"I'm sorry, I just-!" Laios sobbed, wiping his eyes. Toshiro blushed at the onlookers, thinking Toshiro did something with bad intentions to make Laios cry. "Poor Tamatori! She was so brave!"

Toshiro laughed exasperatedly, putting his hands on Laios' shoulders. "Please stop crying. I thought this was meant to be motivating."

"It is! I enjoyed this story so much!" Laios exclaimed, with puffy, teary eyes, he hugged Toshiro. "Thank you for sharing this with me."

Toshiro didn't have the heart to tell Laios the folklore Maizuru told him as a child usually ended in tragedy. Tales like this were performed in theaters, sung by monks, and passed down from one generation to another, through war and famine.

That was why they were so significant.

When he looked to his right, they happened to be at the koi pond exhibit, one of Toshiro's favorites.

"Laios," Toshiro said gently, wiping his tears and cupping his cheeks, urging him to look at the pond. "Look."

The pretty sparkle returned to Laios' eyes. "Koi?"

Toshiro nodded. "Yes. Want to come with me and look at them?" He asked with a patient smile.

"Fuck yeah!" Laios' was back to his usual chippy self. He took Laios' hand and led him to the exhibit. It was interactive, so they were able to feed the fish in the open pond.

Toshiro adored the way Laios' eyes lit up seeing the fish swim over to him, cooing at them like newborn babies.

They continued exploring the exhibits, going from smaller animals, and working their way up to the massive ones. Laios seemed to enjoy seeing the whales and sharks. Toshiro was more drawn to cnidaria and chordata, but they both had time to see their favorite sea creatures.

It was Laios' turn to tell Toshiro that some jellyfish were technically immortal because of their ability to reaggregate their cells after decaying, their polyps creating new jellyfish. They both had something to learn from each other, including the fact that Toshiro hadn't seen a single Jaws movie, and Laios wanted to change that immediately.

As a way of thanking Laios, Toshiro bought him a shark plush at the aquarium gift shop.

Laios was about to start crying again, which Toshiro panicked, pleading that he stop or people would think he was a really shitty boyfriend.

He thankfully obliged as they exited the building, content with how their second date went.

"Say," Laios said, "you hungry?"

"A little?" Toshiro answered timidly. His stomach growled, and telling Laios a little was just an understatement. Laios laughed, and Toshiro smacked him in the chest.

"Silence!"

"You're so cute!"

"I will take that shark back."

"Don't you dare! Tamatori is mine!"

Toshiro paused, looking down at the plush, then at Laios. "You... you named your shark after Tamatori?"

They got fast food.

It's less than ideal. Where Toshiro came from, being wined and dined was a sign of respect. Fast food was for people who were craving late night junk at an affordable price.

He was bumping shoulders with Laios and sharing chicken nuggets, french fries, milkshakes that Toshiro would've regretted drinking if he didn't bring his lactaid pills. Laios wolfed down two whole burgers. The food was good, and that was dangerous. If Toshiro had too much of this, he was afraid he'd never stop.

"I gotta go to the bathroom," Laios said, standing up.

"Wait, here?" Toshiro asked, baffled. Public bathrooms were either well-kept or a biohazard. That didn't stop Laios. He tapped Toshiro's nose with a snort.

"Yeah, silly. Be right back." He winked, turning his heel and jogging across the room, making a right down the hall. Toshiro sighed, shaking his head as he looked out the window.

He wondered what his father would think, him stuffing himself silly with chicken nuggets with who's practically considered a frat boy and jock combined instead of a wealthy businessman looking to elope and then forget he existed, since to his father, courting and marriage were a means of keeping up appearances and not because either party wanted to genuinely know each other outside of that.

Toshiro was wealthy, heir to his father's company; but he wanted to be invisible to everyone else. He didn't want to be befriended to get in the good graces of the Nakamoto family dynasty. He preferred drinking out of the same milkshake cup as Laios, two separate straws between them like they were high schoolers on a date after school and not grown-ass college students who often played DnD together. He just wanted to be a normal person, with normal hobbies, goals, and dreams.

He wanted to fall in love with somebody that saw him as just Toshiro, without the importance of his family name attached to him.

Laios returned from the bathroom as Toshiro took another sip of their shared milkshake.

"Hey, princess," he grinned, sliding down next to Toshiro and pecking him on the lips. "Did you miss me?"

"I was thinking you fell in." Toshiro joked, something he didn't do often. Still, he made Laios laugh anyway, so he was glad he did it.

"Wait," Laios said as he grabbed a napkin, "you got something..." He used it to wipe off the whipped cream on Toshiro's lips, the two of them giggling at each other. There was maybe one or two people present in the restaurant with them, the employees miserable and ready to clock out any minute now, so neither of them had to worry about eyes on them.

They make sure to clean their table up when they're done. The employees didn't even spare them another glance when Laios' told them goodbye, Toshiro slapped his shoulder, scolding him to not patronize them any further.

Laios responded by wrapping his arms around Toshiro's waist and tugging him close to his chest, his breath warm on Toshiro's lips.

"Good thing they're not around to see me do this," he whispered, capturing Toshiro's lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Toshiro melted into him, sighing contentedly. His lips tasted salty, with traces of the vanilla milkshake they had earlier.

"Mm," Toshiro placed his hand on Laios' chest, reluctant to stop when Laios sucked on his lower lip, teasing his tongue through. It made Toshiro feel dizzy, but they were out in public still. "Laios," he gently pushed him back, their lips parted, and he immediately mourned the warmth. "Not here."

Laios breathed a raspy chuckle that made Toshiro's insides tingle - filling with butterflies.

"Do you wanna - my car?"

Toshiro let all rational thought fly out the window.

Fuck it. Laios Touden was a dork and the opposite of a walking sex god, but Toshiro wanted Laios' tongue down his throat anyway.

"Come with me," he tugged on Laios' arm.

Laios didn't have much of a choice. "Yes sir."

Making out in the backseat of Laios' truck was thrilling. Toshiro got into a couple fights in high school - but he wouldn't classify himself as a delinquent. It was important to follow the rules to stay out of trouble. But sometimes, if provoked, he'd act unwisely.

Sitting in Laios' lap and grinding against him as they kissed in the restaurant parking lot reminded Toshiro an awful lot of those times, the adrenaline rush. But this was way better. Laios removed Toshiro's hair tie, secured around his wrist as he ran his fingers through them, his other hand running along Toshiro's hip to slip under his shirt, roaming his bare skin, heating up at Laios' touch.

To think this was only the second date.

Feeling Laios' lips suck and lick at his jawline, he worked his way down his neck then marked a spot there, sucking hard enough to earn a gasp from Toshiro.

"Laios!" He tugged Laios back by his hair. "I can't have any marks!"

"Oh," Laios appeared entranced, his response distant, looking at Toshiro all dopey-eyed. "Sorry, you smell really good. It's the same cologne from the last time, isn't it?"

Toshiro sighed, smiling a little. "Yes. I wore it because I knew you'd like it."

Laios whined, burying his head in Toshiro's neck as he embraced him. "Man... you're gonna kill me one of these days."

Toshiro petted his hair, consoling him. "I didn't say we could stop."

Laios lifted his head. "Really?"

Toshiro giggled, nodding. He pecked Laios on the lips, once, twice, then again, nibbling on Laios' lip just to rile him up some more. He was feeling quite frisky himself.

"Baby, can you-"

"Hm?"

"Can you - can we -? If you want to?"

Toshiro nodded, moving his hips again, as he wanted exactly what Laios wanted.

"Good?" Toshiro asked quietly. Laios moaned, his hands on Toshiro's ass to pull him down, meeting his thrusts.

"Oh, fuck- yeah..."

Toshiro laughed breathily at his reactions, losing himself in the sensations. This should feel indecent, rutting against each other like dogs in heat, but Laios left gentle kisses on his lips, his cheek, eyelids, forehead, his hands squeezing here and there, awash in the waves of pleasure swirling in his gut.

"Laios... ah- Laios, yes. T-There..."

"Toshiro."

Toshiro whimpered, holding onto Laios. "Say my name again, please."

Laios paused, then he kissed Toshiro's neck, fingers carding through Toshiro's silky hair, worshiping him with his eyes.

"Toshiro," Toshiro moved his hips faster, desperate, a whine in his throat. "Toshiro... Toshiro... You look gorgeous like this... I wish I could fuck you here. I'd make you feel so good."

Before Toshiro knew it, he trembled in Laios' embrace, hips stuttering and climaxing in his stupidly tight jeans.

"Oh baby... I'm close..." Laios wasn't very far behind. He was counting on Toshiro to help him, to tell him what to do.

"Maybe one of these nights," Toshiro whispered in Laios' ear, nails scratching through Laios' scalp, soft blond curls damp under his fingers, "You can take my clothes off, lie me down, touch me all you want. Taste me until I'm wanting more." Laios moaned throatily as Toshiro continued, pushing past his nervousness and letting his arousal do the talking, "Then... you can make love to me. I'm all yours."

"Fuck!" Laios groaned shamelessly loud as Toshiro pressed their foreheads together, he thrusted his hips up one last time as he finally came.

Both panting, they sat there, the windows fogged up from the heat that built up between them.

"Wow!" Laios relaxed against the car seat with a sigh.

Toshiro didn't know how to interpret that reaction, feeling shame again.

"Did you not like it?"

Laios thought he had grown two heads by asking that question. "Are you kidding? That was the hottest thing ever, Toshiro! I always found you sexy as hell, but you surprised me with that one. Biggest load I've blown off in ages."

"Goodness, Laios," Toshiro laughed in relief, his cheeks reddening at his vulgar words. "Could you be any more direct?"

"Look at my pants, babe!" Toshiro shifted back, seeing the large wet patch on Laios' pants, his dick going flaccid again. Meanwhile, Toshiro's own underwear was uncomfortably sticky.

"Oh." He did that. That was all him.

"We absolutely have to do this again," Laios begged, hugging Toshiro again to pull him back. "Please?"

"I'll think about it, just take me home. I feel disgusting," Toshiro politely requested, pushing himself off Laios. Laios gave him back his hair tie, watching Toshiro bring his hair back to tie it up into a high ponytail, mesmerized, like it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Unfortunately for him, this show was all he was getting.

"Come on." Toshiro urged with a swat on the shoulder, turning so he could climb back into the passenger seat. He didn't expect the light slap he got on the ass as it hovered in Laios' view. He squeaked.

"Laios!"

"Did I mention how hot those jeans make your ass look?"

"Drive the car!"

Laios put his hands up, seeing that Toshiro was at his limit with his indecency. He got out the car door and returned to the driver's seat within seconds, strapping up and starting up the car.

"Good date, huh?" He asked, changing the subject happily. Toshiro responded to him with a glare.

#dungeon meshi #laishuro #laishuro college au #fic: high society #van writes #here u go dear i hope u enjoyed #i didnt mean for this one to be so long and spicy but oh well lol

14 notes · View notes