#love the more muted colours in the background

[nochukoo97]

boyfriend drabbles (pt.31)

pairing: idol!jungkook x gf!reader

summary: the one where you and jungkook have so much love to give

word count: 2.3k+ oopss

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

You giggle to yourself softly as you watch Jungkook dance across the screen, a mischevious grin plastered on his face as he smiles into the camera.

“Alright, I’m tired already,” Jungkook approaches the camera, huffing as he sits back down on the chair. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you click the heart icon at the bottom of the screen, joining the rest of the fans in sending virtual colourful hearts to Jungkook.

“Shall we listen to some songs?” He asks after a period of silence, walking out of frame to fetch the TV remote as you smile to yourself hearing the muffled pattering of his feet from outside the room.

It doesn’t take Jungkook long to easily navigate the TV, clicking to change your Youtube account to his, with a less cultivated feed since he had insisted that yours was better.

“What should I play?” He peers back to the screen once more to question, attempting to read the answers that stream in the comments section of the live.

Whilst waiting for your boyfriend to choose a song, you place your phone propped up on your desk so that you can watch him and finish up your essay at the same time. Your attention is diverted back to the laptop sitting in front of you, glasses sitting low on your nose bridge as you resume typing.

“Love letters? Is that a song?” You hear Jungkook’s voice hum from the speaker of your phone, you quickly glance towards the screen to take a look at what he’s doing, before returning back to your essay.

“Oh? What’s this?” His voice squeaks slightly as he clicks onto the video, the soft music sounding throughout the apartment.

The music playing soothes your mind as you type on your laptop, Jungkook’s comments that come here and there providing a source of background noise for your concentration.

But your attention is quickly snapped away as a soft, sudden sniffle comes from the livestream. Only to be met with Jungkook’s glossy eyes, glistening with unshed tears. Your eyes widen slightly, despite knowing fully that Jungkook had always been an emotional person, it still tugged at your heartstrings to see him like this.

“This is so touching…” His voice is shaky as he speaks, the song slowly coming to an end as silence fills the air. You watch him gather himself, and it takes every muscle in your body to stop yourself from simply walking out the room to go and comfort Jungkook.

Jungkook manages to collect himself, sharing a few thoughts and expressing his endless gratitude and love for Army. The mood slowly lifts up as he begins to watch compilation videos of him and his members, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the TV.

Whilst watching Jungkook attempt to uplift the atmosphere with a lame joke he had made, your hand, in an inadvertent twist of fate, brushes against the tumbler sitting right beside your laptop, causing it to fall to the ground and crash.

A hasty, muttered curse escapes your lips as you quickly pick it up. The livestream for sure heard the noise, there was no way your metal tumbler crashing to the ground did not get picked up by the livestream's audio.

Jungkook on the other hand jolted suddenly upon hearing the noise, his eyes widened in alarm, as if instinctively soughting out the source of the noise.

Unconsciously, he calls out for you, his voice slipping into a more intimate and worrying tone, “Baby? Oh shit-” He stiffens on camera, as your heart stops for a moment hearing his slip up. But Jungkook quickly makes a fabricated excuse to mute the livestream, telling the fans that he’ll be back. He’ll deal with whatever rumours that come later.

You watch as the door to your shared bedroom creaks open ever so slightly, Jungkook squeezing his way in as he quickly shuts the door, pacing over to you.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He immediately searches you for any injuries, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he takes your hand in his.

“Kook I’m fine, you’ve got to go back before they suspect anything,” You attempt to shoo him away, afraid that the already suspicious reaction and excuse he gave on the livestream may lead to something more serious.

But Jungkook has his priorities, more specifically ensuring that you’re okay. You have to assure him you’re fine, explaining how your bottle had dropped to the ground, and that you didn’t get hurt. As much as you want to check up on Jungkook, knowing he’s still feeling a little emotional about the touching gift made by his fans, you know better than to keep him longer in the room.

“Think I’m gonna wrap up the live,” He mumbles against your forehead, pressing a kiss there.

“Okay, okay, quick!” You’re much more anxious about all of this than the idol himself, which is ironic, considering he’d be the one having to deal with the rumours. Jungkook only chuckles softly at your ushering, listening to you and walking back out.

Once you see the screen turn to “JK ⭐️ has ended the live”, you hear your boyfriend running back into the bedroom, walking up to your seated figure in front of your desk.

“Hi baby,” Peering up at Jungkook, you still notice the faint glint in his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings. “Feeling okay?” You hum, tracing a finger over the tatted purple heart on his hand.

“Don’t know,” He mumbles, leaning down to plop himself on your lap as you huff at the sudden weight. “Army’s are the best, can’t believe they made that for us,” Jungkook hums, his head now buried into your neck, back hunched a little as he tries to accommodate his size difference to cuddle into you.

“I know, they care about you so much,” You whisper, hands reaching up to card through his hair. “I’m losing oxygen soon though,” A laugh escapes your mouth, slightly wheezing as Jungkook’s body shakes above you, giggling as he gets off your lap.

“Want me to shower you? I’ll take care of you today,” You stand up, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lean in to give him a quick peck.

Jungkook nods, bangs hovering over his eyebrows as he hums in response, walking with you into the bathroom.

-

Jungkook thinks he’s in heaven right now, with the way your fingers delicately massage his scalp, the warm water of the bathtub, the dimmed lights of the bathroom. Both of you huddled in the tub as you continued to press your fingers into his soapy scalp, making sure to get every inch soaped up.

“So good baby,” He lets out a soft moan, praising you as he leans his weight back onto your hands making you giggle, massaging at his temples. “Let me do the same for you,” With that, he shuffles around, making the water splash a little out of the tub as you frown at the floor covered with little droplets of water.

“Turn around,” He instructs you as he takes your pink shampoo bottle and drizzles the soap in a pattern on top of your head.

“Hey,” A whine emits from your mouth as Jungkook chuckles at his little creation, telling you that he had made a heart out of the soap, it makes you roll your eyes in faux irritation but in reality your heart swells.

“Your hair has gotten pretty long,” He whispers whilst spreading the shampoo around your hair, as you nod, mumbling something about growing it out.

The both of you are so lost in the moment, how domestic the moment was, the way that the both of you took turns to care for each other. You hoped that life with Jungkook would be like this till the end.

“Kook?” You sound out after a period of silence, as Jungkook hums.

“Will you still wash my hair for me when I’m old and wrinkly?”

“Hah- what?”

“I’m serious,” There’s a pout on your face, and although Jungkook can’t see it because you’re facing away from him, the sulk in your voice is evident enough for him to guess your expression.

“Depends, what if I’m old and scrawny too? Then I can’t wash you up either,” He pokes at you mischievously, as you gasp at his horrid answer.

“Don’t say that! I don’t want to imagine a wrinkly you, makes me sad,” You turn around for a moment, making eye contact with your boyfriend who’s staring amusingly at your reaction.

“But it means that I’ll spend forever with you,” He leans in to kiss you at the corner of your lip, “We can be old and wrinkly together,”

“Yeah, want to live with you forever,” You hum, a little dazed as you let him massage your scalp.

-

“You want tea? Or hot chocolate?” Jungkook calls out from the kitchen, the both of you now changed into pajamas and fresh out of the shower.

“Hot chocolate, with a gajillion marshmallows,” You tell him, opening the pantry cupboard to grab an unopened bag of marshmallows.

You watch as Jungkook meticulously scoops the chocolate powder into your mugs, a pink cat mug for you and a black one for him.

“You’re drinking the hot chocolate too?” You’re surprised as you watch Jungkook nod, scooping some of the powder into his mug.

Jungkook didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, contrary to you, which was why he often ordered bitter or less sweet drinks, as compared to your often filled-with-too-much-sugar and overpriced drinks.

“Kook I saw this trend on Tiktok, can we do it?” You lean closer to him, showing him the video playing on your screen. It’s a couple sitting on a picnic blanket painting and exchanging canvases every ten minutes. Jungkook watches intently, pausing his stirring of the hot chocolate as he instantly lights up, ushering you to quickly retrieve the items.

Lucky for the both of you, Jungkook’s hobby of painting left extra canvases and paints laying around the house, so it didn’t take long for you to easily find the items.

“Okay, I’ll set a timer for ten minutes and we’ll swap canvases once it rings,” You plop down on the living room floor as Jungkook nods, setting down the two mugs of hot chocolate filled to the brim with the marshmallows carefully on your coasters.

-

“This, this is not what I envisioned,” You sighed, the once white and clean canvas now splotched with your failed attempt at drawing a cute calico cat. Maybe you should have just stuck to a singular coloured cat, the different colours of paint smudging together to create a huge mess made it look demonic.

Jungkook peaks over at your canvas and instantly bursts into laughter and giggles, making you frown.

“Why are you laughing!” A permanent scowl plasters over your face as you swipe the wet paintbrush over his arm, making your boyfriend gasp at the brown paint on his arm.

“Baby, that looks nothing like a cat,” Jungkook’s almost wheezing at your artwork at this point, as you grumble and kick his shin in annoyance.

“You better help me fix it when we swap,” Another grumble, as Jungkook’s laughs die down and he pets your head in sympathy, although you still feel he’s probably finding your paint splodge hilarious deep down inside.

Meanwhile, Jungkook’s turning into the asian Bob Ross as he swipes the paintbrush swiftly over the canvas, creating hues of pink, orange and yellow to form a vivid sunset. You’re almost certain this man can do anything he wants by how talented he was at everything.

“Oh- that shocked me,” A squeak leaves your boyfriend's mouth as he jolts when the alarm blares, a little smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth when you notice the little smudge he had created because of the alarm.

“Okay, swap time,” You instantly reach for the other canvas, a much better looking prospect for you as compared to whatever you’ve made on the current canvas.

“How am I gonna fix this,” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow as he stares at the mess on your canvas, twisting and turning the painting in all different directions.

“It’s not even that bad Kook,” You pout again, whining, but you’re only saying that since you’ve got Jungkook’s beautiful sunset painting in your hands.

“Bold of you to say when this was meant to be a cute cat. I think I’m gonna see this is my nightmares,” He scoffs, a mischievous grin appearing as he watches you roll your eyes once again.

“This is so not lovey dovey, I’m getting upset just by putting the paint on your artwork,” You grumble, paintbrush making contact with the canvas to attempt to illustrate a sun, but it only comes out as a weird shaped yellow circle.

“Oh my gosh, my painting!” Jungkook’s exasperated, his eyes widening as he watches you attempt to make a circle out of the yellow paint, but the sun just seems to keep growing bigger and bigger from how many times you’ve painted over the wobbly outline.

“Baby this is too stressful,” You sigh, plopping back on the floor as you set the paintbrush back into the cup of water.

“It’s okay, maybe you’re more of an abstract artist,” He comforts you, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he pokes more fun at you.

“I literally hate you,” Another whine escapes your lips as you shuffle around, almost hitting over your mug of hot chocolate as Jungkook quickly holds onto it to prevent the drink from spilling.

“Not what you said last night,” He mutters under his breath, then lets out a small chuckle as if he didn’t just throw in a dirty innuendo.

Jungkook earns a smack to his shoulder from you, and as much as you fake your annoyance and irritation, it’s endearing to you to see him like this.

And in the end, you end up admiring Jungkook’s work as he finishes up the paintings for you, or shall you say saves it from turning into your next sleep paralysis monster, and then he insists on hanging it up in your bedroom.

taglist!: @imlyfie @jksgirlhere @laylasbunbunny @borahaexoxo @jklvrs-world

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts ff #bts #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook scenario

[morallyinept]

Heyday Hero! - A Marcus Moreno One Shot

Summary: Retired from his role as leader of the Heroics, Marcus finds that his life is missing something he never really slowed down to notice before, and soon the prospect of growing older and grey alone suddenly doesn't seem like such a super thought.

Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature/CurvyF!Reader (No name of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader is of a similar age to Marcus, who I have made 52 in this story, and Reader is more on the curvier side in body type. Otherwise a blank slate.)

Word Count: 12.5k. I'm not sorry. Settle in, it's a long one.

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Some angst/very slight mentions of body confidence/both Marcus & Reader have REAL bodies, and very real middle age spread/coming to terms with ageing & feeling obsolete.

Explicit: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M & F receiving/fingering - Marcus has superpower hands⚡️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: After seeing how distinguished and incredibly handsome Pedro looked at the Emmy's recently (and remarkably like an older version of gorgeous Marcus Moreno) this idea came to me. And I had to write it down... It's long for a one shot, but I didn't want to cut too much out as I wanted to really get inside of Marcus's head. 🧠

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

In the dimly lit restaurant, Marcus fiddles anxiously with the menu as he waits for your arrival.

Sat in the swanky establishment, chosen meticulously for it’s luxurious, yet modest selection of incredibly tasty fare, the ambiance around him is a blend of soft lighting and muted colours that exude an air of quaint sophistication.

The walls are adorned with contemporary art pieces, which he can sometimes get lost inside between courses, creating an elegant backdrop to the gentle hum of conversations weaving around him like a ribbon in the background.

To his left, a couple engage in animated laughter, their cheery faces illuminated by the warm glow of soft candlelight. Across the room, a group of friends celebrate a special occasion, clinking glasses in animated jubilation.

The soft jazz music playing in the background adds a touch of romance, and the scraping of cutlery against fine china creates a comforting sense of familiarity in a place Marcus has favoured from time to time, bringing his daughter as his usual date.

The waitstaff, dressed in crisp uniforms, move gracefully between tables, ensuring that each patron experiences the epitome of culinary indulgence with a first class service.

Grateful that he chose to don his spectacles, he opens the menu and skims the appetizers and main courses, inwardly cursing his exceptional time keeping skills at arriving thirty minutes earlier than he needs to be.

He’s acutely aware of being on his own; standing out as a single amongst a sea of tables where numbers around them are even, and it crawls onto his shoulders to sit there like a heavy, unwanted companion settling in.

Despite the refined atmosphere, Marcus feels a tinge of nervousness swell in his belly. As he catches glimpses of couples sharing intimate moments and friends engaged in lively cahoots, Marcus can't help but feel like an outsider peering into a world that has become somewhat unfamiliar during his retirement.

As he sits in contemplation, considering the Filet Mignon with a Cabernet Demi-Glace alongside a glass of Malbec, or maybe the Châteauneuf-du-Pape, that would go down nicely, the restaurant serves as a swamping microcosm of the world he’s retreated into - a world filled with ordinary moments and the promise of new connections, despite the cocoon of abject terror woven tightly around them.

He wonders briefly for a moment what you will choose to eat as he skims down the list. Then he wonders if you'll actually have the courage to show; his own hesitations and fears trying to toy with him with their insidious little voices hissing in his ear.

His once steady hands now convey a subtle tremor, a physical manifestation of the nerves that have gripped him tightly ever since the idea of this date had taken root and grown limbs of its own.

A journey that still confused him, unable to believe it all started with a simple swipe over his face and a digital message shared between you...

His daughter, Missy, had perched on the armrest of the couch only a mere fortnight ago, a mischievous glint in her deep chocolate eyes that matched his own set of peepers.

"Alright, Dad, let's make you the perfect dating profile. You've got to be enticing, mysterious, yet approachable," Missy had declared with a buoyant smirk.

Marcus nodded, still getting accustomed to the concept of online dating and his acceptance to it after months of Missy berating him about putting himself out there more.

He finally caved when he realised she was right. She usually was about these things, although hardly an example to live by. Several failed relationships later, including an engagement that never led to Marcus actually walking her down the aisle proudly on his arm, and she'd thrown in the towel and embraced single life.

She'd grown in age for a thirty-something rambunctious young woman, but evidently not in maturity.

"Right, right. Enticing and approachable. Got it.” Marcus nodded. “How do I do that?"

“You’re a lost cause, jeez,” she snorted, as her fingers danced across the keyboard on the phone screen. “Luckily, you have me to help you out.”

“What are you writing in there?” Marcus asked curiously, trying to take a peek.

"I’m making you sound like a catch. Because you are.”

“I don’t know about that.” He mumbled bashfully. “I’m old.”

“Being in your fifties is not old. Trust me. You’re what, 56?”

“52.” Marcus frowned.

“Exactly. Young. Now, for the headline. How about 'retired hero seeking sidekick for life's next adventure'?"

Marcus nodded. “Mm, I sound like a sales pamphlet.” He chuckled.

With a teasing grin, Missy continued typing. "Let's highlight your strengths. 'A man of action, but also enjoys long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners.'"

Marcus scratched under his greying beard. "Look at that, I've been upgraded from sales pamphlet to walking cliché."

Missy laughed, "fine, we'll skip the beach walks, then. How about we mention your cooking skills? 'Can whip up a mean lasagna, tower of pancakes and save the day - a triple threat.'"

Marcus nodded in approval. "That's not bad. Cooking is a superpower in its own right. And one that I excel at, if I do say so myself."

"You always say so."

"Quit complaining. You eat here for free." He quipped.

As they navigated through the intricacies of the dating profile, Marcus's naivety about online dating emerged. "Do people really swipe left or right on this thing?”

“Yep. You swipe right if you like the look of them, or left if you don’t.”

“How fickle.” He wrinkled his nose at such a thought.

“Eh, it's what all the cool kids do these days.” Missy shrugged.

“Maybe that’s too cool for me. What about one where I can meet someone like me?”

“Dating specifically for retired Heroics?”

“No. Dating for… something other than a one night stand.” He cleared his throat.

“You mean you don’t want to slut around?” Missy teased. "These are your hoe years, Dad!"

“Hey! Potty mouth.” He frowned again. “And no. I-I want to meet someone who’s serious.”

Missy rolled her eyes. “Dad, this isn’t Tinder I'm setting you up on, don’t worry.” She reassured. “This is a serious dating site for old, uh, mature people who want to find something real. It just has a similar algorithm to Tinder in matching you up.”

“Well, good.” He nodded. “What’s Tinder?”

“Slut central.” Missy smirked.

“Oh.” Marcus chuckled again. “And what's with all the emojis? Ooh, is there a superhero emoji?"

Missy tittered, guiding him through the nuances. "Yes, there's a superhero emoji, we can add that, or a heart to jazz it up a bit."

“I like the purple heart. Can you put that one?”

“Purple? Why not the green one?”

“I don’t like green, purple is my favourite colour. Why would I use the green one?” Marcus questioned, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't know, green is cool. Different."

"I'm not cool. Just put the purple one."

“Purple it is.” Missy said, smiling down at him and how curiously receptive he was to it all. She had assumed he would have put up a bit of a fight and insisted he was perfectly fine on his own. But they both knew that wasn’t entirely true.

As she finalised the profile, Missy held up the phone to snap a picture of him.

“Oh no, let me just-”

“Dad, you look fine.” She groaned as he ran his hand over his head tidying his already neat hair.

“Well, let me take my glasses off.”

“No way. They’re a part of you. Now, say cheese, you uncool old man.” She snapped a few pics as he smiled awkwardly, and chose the best one to upload.

"And there we have it - the profile of a retired superhero ready to conquer the world of online dating. You're a niche in the market."

Marcus simply scoffed.

"Now, brace yourself for the flood of admirers, Dad. Your inbox is gonna be lit."

Marcus looked at the screen, a mix of nervousness and amusement on his face.

"Flood of admirers, huh? I never thought finding a date would be this... complicated."

As Missy finalised and submitted the online dating profile, a moment of hesitation gripped him. He looked at the screen, the upbeat words that described him echoed in his mind, and a pang of guilt tugged at his ventricles making him sigh heavily.

The prospect of moving forward felt like a betrayal, a step into an unknown territory where memories of his late wife still lingered, clinging on. He fiddled with the platinum band around his finger absentmindedly.

But Missy sensed her father's inner turmoil, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding as if she could read every silent thought that churned through him.

She gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

"Dad, it's okay. Mom will always be a part of us, no matter what. This doesn't mean you're leaving her behind."

Marcus nodded, his gratitude evident in his misty eyes. "I know. It's just... it feels strange, you know? To be potentially opening up to someone new. I feel so out of the loop."

“But that’s the fun in dating.” Missy squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and he placed his hand on top of hers. "You meet all kinds of weirdos before you find one that's the right kind of weird."

"You're a weirdo." He smirked.

"Takes one to know one," she mused. "Besides, mom would want you to be happy. And I want that too. You deserve it. There’s someone out there that's just as uncool as you are, I guarantee it."

"Thanks," he chuckled.

"I mean it. Whoever they are, they're going to fall madly in love with you. You really are a hero, Dad."

Marcus smiled up at her with rosy cheeks and a warming smile. “Love you, kiddo.”

“I’m not eleven anymore. I’m a grown woman.” She rolled her eyes at the pet name that had stuck, although secretly she loved it.

“You’ll always be my kiddo regardless of how old you get. That'a just the deal.” He confirmed with a singular nod.

With a soft smile, Marcus returned his focus to the dating profile. The words on the screen transforming slowly from potential betrayal to a blooming eagerness through some determined resilience and the capacity to allow himself to embrace a new beginning in his long absent love life with some appeasement.

Weeks had passed since Marcus and Missy created the dating profile.

Admittedly Marcus hadn’t spent a lot of time on the app, finding it tricky to navigate and the constant swiping made his thumbs ache after scrolling through reams of attractive faces that it began to overwhelm.

But he dipped in now and again to check any matches, and didn’t really expect much.

Marcus was the kind of man who harboured that dreamy infatuation of falling in love naturally in an environment reminiscent of his favourite rom coms.

Like bumping into his soulmate in a coffee shop over a foamy latte, or locking eyes through the stacks in an old dusty bookstore, or between the exotic blooms of the local botanical gardens where he liked to sit and have lunch sometimes.

But of course, life isn’t a rom com, and Marcus was convinced his had always been a gritty action adventure with no time for the romantic story line to be weaved into the dangerous plot.

One evening, as Marcus checked his phone, he discovered a notification from the dating app. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the message, revealing a match with you.

A mixture of excitement and nervousness washed over him. He read through your profile, discovering shared interests and a warmth that resonated through your words about seeking a life partner with whom you could share your zest for life with.

Your photo captivated him, namely your smile, and Marcus found he spent several minutes just trying to envision what you were like in person with those gorgeous eyes of yours staring back at him.

The room seemed to brighten as he absorbed the realisation that someone out there was potentially interested in getting to know him beyond the superhero persona.

"Hey, I got a match!" He called out to Missy, who was folding laundry in the next room.

Despite how domesticated her father was, he still loathed ironing and wasn’t really that skilled at it, so it was left for Missy when she visited, which was an almost daily occurrence. Moving out some years ago into her own place across town, she still spent more of her time at her childhood home hanging with her father when she wasn’t saving the world.

Loneliness, it seemed, was hereditary.

She rushed in, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Really? Let me see!"

As they huddled around the phone, Marcus navigated through your profile.

“Oh, she’s gorgeous, Dad.”

“Right? Far too gorgeous for me.” His voice dipped.

Missy frowned up at him. “Don’t say that, she likes you, look. And look, she loves flowers, you love your garden! Ooh, and she’s a foodie! Perfect match!"

"You think so?" He asked.

"You're officially in the dating game, Dad!" She grinned excitedly.

Marcus couldn't help but smile, a blend of gratitude and anticipation in his eyes.

“Send her a message back.”

“What do I say?”

Missy rolled her eyes. “Just talk to her, dummy.”

He nodded. "I never thought I'd be doing this at my age. But here goes nothing."

Missy playfully nudged him. “You say it like you’re on your last legs.”

“I’m so nervous. Do you think she could really find me interesting?”

Missy's face softened. "Absolutely. You’ve got so much to offer. Remember, just be yourself. And if all else fails, maybe tell her about the pancake towers… That seemed to work for you before."

The father-daughter duo laughed and then she left him to it. As Marcus prepared to message you, he felt a sense of hope blooming within him, seeding with delicate tendrils of what-if scenarios through the soil of his being.

The dating app, once an intimidating frontier, now represented a chance for connection in the palm of his hand, and the possibility of a second chapter in his life.

In the soft glow of the phone screen, Marcus typed his first message to you; a simple yet sincere greeting, with thoughtful follow up questions to get to know you.

As he pressed send, the room seemed to hold its breath with him; floundering in the uncharted territory and all the terrifying pitfalls of online dating opening up in seemingly unconquerable chasms before him.

He could feel his fingers buzz and crackle in giddy excitement, and he shook the pulsing from them as he waited anxiously.

Marcus smiled as wide as his mouth would stretch when moments later your reply came, followed with a purple heart emoji of your own at the end.

The pair of you spent the reminder of that night messaging back and forth until the early hours of the morning, both of you seeming reluctant to halt the texting for the inconvinience of sleep.

You questioned him about his previous career as leader of the Heroics, something that he made no effort in hiding from you, but he was more surprised when you brushed over it and asked him more personal questions about him and his life now.

It warmed him to know that you were keen on getting to know the man underneath the padded out suit and katanas.

As Marcus delved into the conversations that flowed eagerly across the screen, he eagerly shared those glimpses of his life beyond the Heroics. In his messages to you, he found himself excitedly revealing the most cherished aspects of his retired life - his culinary prowess and his love for gardening namely.

Through his words, never abbreviated to modern day text slang, he painted vivid pictures of his kitchen as a canvas where he crafted tasty and experimental delights, contributing to his now less-than-trim waistline.

The tales of him donning an apron and concocting flavours with pots and pans were woven into the giddy narrative - like creating his legendary lasagna and towering pancake stacks - and held a touch of pride and a hint of self-deprecating humour.

Perhaps you'll be the lucky one to experience my famous lasagna one day. I warn you though, it comes with a side of terrible superhero puns and far too much garlic bread.💜

Your response made his cheeks ache from grinning so much:

Well, lucky for you I love far too much garlic bread. And terrible puns.💜

He spoke of mornings spent tending to the plants in his back yard, nurturing them as if they were his wards. The garden, once a therapeutic escape from the demands of heroism, now became a space where he cultivated not just flowers and vegetables, but a sense of ongoing tranquillity.

As he shared these aspects of his life, Marcus was ecstatic that you saw beyond the retired hero and glimpsed the man who found joy in the beautiful ordinary.

You both spoke morning, noon and night until only a few days into your chatting, Marcus offered you his phone number and he called you, engaging in a video call conversation that lasted late into the night and curated a dinner date arranged for just a few evenings later.

And now, sitting in the restaurant waiting patiently for you, his phone buzzes in his pocket at the table and Missy’s name flashes up.

Stay away from anything garlicky 2nite, no matter how much u want it. Good luck! Love u x

He smiles at his daughter’s sage advice after responding with a thumbs up emoji, and he puts his phone back in his pocket and glances out the window.

Outside the restaurant, the early night casts its enchantment over the cityscape of downtown Austin, turning the bustling streets into a reflective mosaic of city lights. The glow of the street lamps create warm halos diffused by the previous cascading rain, warm in the Texas summer.

The restaurant, with its polished veneer and the subtle drama of its patrons all around seem to suddenly cave in on Marcus, and the nerves begin to convince him that you might feel out of place here.

He’s starting to, as he glances down at himself; his once-strong hands now showing signs of a subtle tremble and wear. He smooths down his soft cashmere sweater nervously.

Agonising on what to wear, Missy came to the rescue after his attempts at some mismatched disaster left her looking at him as though he'd completely lost his mind.

And perhaps he had for even entertaining the idea that someone could find him desirable and attractive now at the gates of a later stage in life.

After a brief fashion show of potential date outfits, they settled on a classic and sophisticated choice of a black cashmere sweater, paired with a white pressed shirt and a sleek black tie underneath, teamed with black pants and smart dress shoes that seemed to strike the right balance between the refined and approachable.

Much smarter than his grey denim that was scuffed at the knees.

"Very James Bond, Dad," Missy had remarked, a playful grin on her face.

"James Bond is incredibly smooth with the ladies. I'm more like Jack Lemon." Marcus snorted. "Got that nervous, twitchy energy down to a T... How do I look?"

With a final nod of approval, they exchanged their trademark father-daughter grin; a silent acknowledgment of the bond that went beyond snappy wardrobe choices.

Missy, ever the supportive sidekick, had not only helped pick an outfit, but infused the process with laughter and adoration, quelling his aforementioned nervous, twitchy energy. The ensemble was nothing too fussy, but equally comfortable and smart.

But now he wonders if the sweater accentuates the stomach he’s allowed to grow out of him through not working out on the daily anymore, and he inadvertently sucks it in.

As Marcus browses the menu, his mind wanders aimlessly to the days when the government relied on him and his team to protect the city. Now that gratitude seems to have faded, replaced by a forgotten indifference.

The retirement party was a mere formality, a token of appreciation for a job well done over the years, and soon he was swallowed up in the anonymity of regular civilian life.

But in the quiet solitude of his home, Marcus often found himself grappling with the stark void that retirement had suddenly left behind. The absence of the daily camaraderie of a team, and a mission, left him with a sense of purposelessness that was hard to ignore.

Days stretched before him like an uncertain horizon and weighed heavily on his shoulders. The routines that once defined his life had dissolved, leaving behind a disorienting stillness and quietness that seemed perpetually louder as the days wore on where he was left floundering. And immensely bored.

His daughter watched with concern as her father navigated this unfamiliar terrain cautiously - and somewhat alone.

The strong, confident superhero who had once faced down villains and alien entities alike, and saved the day countless times without so much as a thanks from the general public most of the time, but bore the scars and wounds that weren't just physical, now faced the formidable challenge of figuring out what came next.

In the midst of his internal battles, loneliness became an unexpected companion that walked beside Marcus; its presence more pronounced as the passage of solitude had unfolded.

In the darkest corners of his mind, Marcus grappled with the harsh reality of ageing. The once-vibrant hero who was in super shape, whose every step echoed with the assurance of a Titan-esque strength, now found himself facing the inevitability of a body that carried the pudgy weight of his advancing years and one too many lasagnes.

The grey in his beard and the subtle signs of time etched around his tired eyes, served as visual markers of a journey that had traversed the highest peaks of heroism and now meandered through the sludgey valleys of introspection.

A sense of nostalgia lingered for the days when his strength seemed boundless, and the world bowed in acknowledgment of his achievements and saviour duty.

Yet, beneath the surface, there was also a quiet, yet slow acceptance; a recognition that each new wrinkle and grey strand bore witness to a life well-lived. Overall, he was happy, accomplished; he had what he needed to be content.

But there was still a hole where a hole ought not to be. And it was starting to gape.

The memories of his late wife visited him in unguarded moments. Especially at night when the world was still and peaceful, yet his yearning was abominably loud.

Marcus missed the warmth of her presence, her body wrapped around his, the shared laughter, and the quiet intimacy that had defined their mere few years together.

He would fall asleep glancing at the tarnished gleam of his wedding band that he still wore around his finger, up until his impending date.

A metallic fragment still clinging on with her memory despite its haze, and popping it safely away inside the drawer came with a sense of unyielding sadness as it did with something excitedly eager to pursue a new chapter.

The transition from active duty to retirement weighed heavily on Marcus. The once effable hero, accustomed to the exhilaration of fighting crime and saving lives, found himself facing the stark reality of now being cast aside, overshadowed by the emergence of a new, younger fleet of heroes; his own daughter taking up the position that he once held proudly as leader of the Heroics.

Retirement, in its initial stages, felt like a forced departure from a life that had defined him. The government's decision to make way for the next generation of heroes left Marcus grappling with a sense of displacement.

The outfit, which had been a symbol of strength and purpose, now hung in the closet faded and moth-eaten; a silent reminder of a bygone era, no longer fitting him where he’d allowed himself to fill out a little.

The katanas were sheathed and stored away at the back of the furthest shelf out of reach, and out of sight, and no longer needed to be called into his grip by his own will.

And despite him still feeling that magnetised, crackly buzz in his fingers, it became less noticeable as time wore on.

His team, once a tight knit band of clashing personalities in lurid coloured suits alike, were now strangers in his phone book whom he barely heard from.

There was an inherent loneliness attached to retirement, a solitude that stemmed not just from the absence of battles, but from the realisation that the world had moved on and left him forever encased inside his heyday.

Marcus recognized that the cycle of heroism demanded the emergence of new champions; each generation contributing to the ebb and flow of the greater narrative. He knew and understood he would never be able to keep going forever, nor did he want to.

The challenge, however, lay in reconciling his sense of self-worth with a society that often failed to appreciate the depth of experience that came with age.

It was as if he had become invisible overnight.

Marcus yearned for a companion, a lover who could fill the void left by the passing of his wife. The longing for romance, for someone to share the mundane and extraordinary moments alike, for the feel of someone's bare skin writhing and cupping against his own filled his waking thoughts.

The world, once a carnival of action, now seemed incomplete without the shared tenderness of someone to enjoy it with. The quiet dinners, the walks hand-in-hand, and the simple pleasure of having a partner to confide in rooted a growing hunger within him.

The desire for companionship wasn’t just a fleeting wish; it was a profound ache that echoed through the vacant chambers of his heart, a reminder that heroism, while noble, did not shield him from the vulnerabilities of basic human need.

For your date with Marcus tonight, you'd carefully selected a dress that effortlessly blended elegance with a touch of modern flair.

The dress was a knee-length, A-line silhouette in a shade of deep midnight blue, shimmering with some well placed sequins.

The rich hue complimented your complexion, enhancing the natural tones of your skin, along with a subtle dusting of make-up to accentuate your best features.

The fabric, a luxurious blend of silk and satin, cascaded down in gentle folds, creating a silhouette that was both graceful and sophisticated and hid a multitude of sins that you felt knocking your confidence about a little.

The moment you step into the restaurant your eyes are eagerly searching for him, and you spot him at a table by the window, his eyes equally searching for you.

And it's as if time itself has stopped, and there is only him and you.

Your dress is incredible, hugging your curves and emphasising them in all the right places. He can’t help but let his eyes roam over the fullness of your behind as you turn to give your coat to the host when you walk in.

Marcus can feel his mouth salivate; a small hint of your swelling cleavage is exposed as you walk towards him, rendering his pants feeling a little tighter.

But what captivates him the most is your smile; it lights up your whole face when you dazzle him with the beam of it.

“Holy ssh…” He trails off to himself as he loses his breath.

Of course, he already thinks you're attractive; he's seen you already through your picture and your video calls that have been on his mind constantly. He’d be bashful to admit that he’s looked at your dating profile picture probably far more than he should.

(He’ll never reveal to you that he’s also used it as inspiration to chase his own pleasure as he wrapped his hand around his thick cock to impure thoughts of you whilst he looked at your smiling face. Well, he won’t tell you that just yet, anyway.)

But seeing you finally in the flesh is something else entirely.

As you approach the table, the air pulses with a blend of eager excitement, and that familiar nervous, twitchy energy.

Marcus rises to his jellied feet, a courteous smile on his tanned, weathered face; his mind racing with the age-old question of whether to extend a hand for a shake, lean in for a kiss on the cheek, or open his arms for a hug. He fears he might not let you go at the latter.

All options make him giddy; the thought of finally touching you, even for a polite greeting, makes his legs buckle.

Your eyes meet, and a moment of charming awkwardness ensues. Unsure of the social cues, Marcus hesitates for a split second, caught between the realms of old-school gentlemanly grandeur and the nuances of modern dating etiquette.

In a playful attempt to navigate the greeting, he extends a hand for a shake just as you move in for a friendly hug. The result is a momentary dance of uncertainty - a handshake that morphs into an unexpected half-hug, odd dance. Laughter bubbles up between you both, diffusing the tension of your awkward limbs, as you share an amused, bashful glance.

"Well, that was smooth," Marcus quips, a twinkle in his eye.

"Some of my best moves," you agree, chuckling in agreement.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Marcus compliments. He pulls your chair out for you and you smile as you sit whilst he tucks you in, then takes his own seat opposite you.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, feeling warm all over. “Very handsome.”

“Thanks,” he says, smoothing his hands down over his broad chest. “I had some help.” He admits, his eyes crinkling in the corners behind his specs as he chuckles. “My daughter saved the day.”

“Well, she has great taste. You look amazing. You smell really good too.” You say as your nose still twitches with the heady oaky notes.

"Thanks." He smiles and finds he can't stop.

He drifts off for a moment, lost in your eyes as they observe him fondly. It takes a moment for his composure to return and his brain to remember words coherently.

“Oh, I almost forgot, these are for you,” Marcus says, pointing to the vase of extravagant flowers resting beside the table on the windowsill.

The florals are incredible, a cluster of bulbous-headed peonies and fluffy garden roses, topped with curled calla lilies; their trumpet-shaped blooms standing out amongst their companions, adding a contemporary flair to the bouquet.

A soft hue of pinks and corals greet you, and the scent wafting from them makes your head swim with their delightfully wafting fragrance.

“These are stunning, Marcus. Wow, they must have cost a fortune... you shouldn't have.” But you're glad he did as you reach forward to smell them and run your fingers over their velvety petals in awe.

“Actually, they’re from my garden.”

“You grow these?” You baulk.

“Yeah. I know you said you love the lilies; they’re some of my favourites too.”

“That’s so thoughtful... I really do love them. Thank you.” You’re stunned at the fact this incredibly adept man knows how to cultivate something so beautiful into existence from a tiny seed. “Flowers just make me so happy, you know?”

“I get that. They make me happy too.” He agrees. “Would you like some wine, are you a wine drinker?” Marcus enquires.

Despite your long conversations laughing like teenagers breaking parental curfew well into the night, there are still things you're both yet to uncover about each other.

You nod. “I'd love some.”

The waiter takes your orders and you choose the pan-seared sea bass, drawn to the delicate and flaky texture of the fish, served on a bed of lemon risotto with roasted cherry tomatoes and asparagus.

Something light that won’t aggravate your stomach with your own nerves so much throughout the evening.

But his soft, inviting smile revealing a dimple as he gazes at you whilst you talk, puts you at ease. He really is incredibly handsome in the flesh, to the point it leaves you unable to speak for a few moments in between the engrossing conversations.

But the silences are never awkward between you both.

The dark-rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose adds a touch of intellectual charm to his appearance, framing deep cocoa eyes that hold the wisdom of years spent in both heroism and now the quieter, reflective moments of life.

His greying beard and moustache add a rugged yet refined quality to the sun-kissed countenance of his complexion. The salt-and-pepper tones speak of a life rich with experience, the threads of grey weaving through the tapestry of a man who has weathered both storms and serenity.

He made no attempt of keeping his heroic qualities a secret from you - his face was known for saving the world time and time over - and despite it, it wasn’t something that put you off when you learned he was a former Heroic, and that people would sometimes recognise him like a celebrity when he were out doing mundane things like grocery shopping.

If anything, it flattered you that someone of his calibre would find you attractive in any kind of way. Compared to Marcus, your life in contrast was humdrum at best with a simple, yet modest job and a simple, yet modest home.

He could have a limber woman with a body sculpted to perfection in tight spandex, but instead it impressed you at how humble, and seemingly reserved and shy he was.

And how keenly interested he was in you and everything you had to say.

“Oh, this is delicious.” You sigh after the waiter brings your food a while later.

Conversation has flowed easily between you both and he makes you laugh a lot; something that he selfishly enjoys when he sees you throw you head back and titter, making you look more beautiful than ever, and filling his head with wayward thoughts of kissing down your neck.

That tight feeling in his pants hasn’t gone away yet and he revels in the throbbing ache hanging heavy despite the discomfort, because it’s been so long since someone made his body react like this.

“You wanna try some of mine too? The meat's really good.” Marcus offers, and holds his fork out to you when you nod.

You notice he bites his bottom, plush lip as he watches you take it in your mouth.

“Mmm, that is good. So tender. This was such a good choice of restaurant.” You say.

“Thank you. I love food and kinda pride myself in finding the best places to eat.” He says with a slight flush creeping over his nose. “That probably comes off as rather arrogant-”

“Not at all. I love it that you love food so much. I do too, it’s probably why I’m more on the heavy side these days.” You chuckle as you reach for your wine glass.

Marcus shakes his head. “I think you look amazing.” He smiles and you notice the rosy blush settle in his cheeks again.

“I never knew this place was here. It’s funny, you can spend your whole life in one place and not realise what’s right under your nose, right?” You say, and Marcus can’t help but agree in more ways than one.

The meal is delicious, the wine flows between you both. Finishing the bottle, he offers you dessert with a tempting smile and arched brow, that ignites something over your skin and leaves you tingly and squeezing your thighs together.

Your mutual sweet teeth lead you both to agree on the tiramisu to share between you. Layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone cream, dusted with cocoa powder, promises a delightful conclusion to the meal, to which you both indulge in as you speak more.

As you discuss your favourite movies and share anecdotes, the conversation takes on a flirtatious undertone as he leaves the last creamy bite on the plate just for you.

Wholly engaged in your words, Marcus leans in slightly over the table on his crossed arms; a hint of intimacy in his gesture, and a reassuring sincerity in his eyes that convince you that he’s enjoyed this evening and your company so much.

And when you look back at him, leaning in a little closer on your elbows across the table too, watching and shuddering as his fingertips soon brush against yours, you confirm the same to him in your own eyes that glitter and beguile him to his knees in subjugation of you.

"You know, they say the best movies are the ones that leave you wanting more... I can't help but feel the same about our date. I've had a really wonderful time with you tonight," he concludes, his dark-rimmed spectacles adding a touch of earnestness to his gaze.

He watches you smile and the world outside implodes.

"I was thinking... w-would you be interested in doing this again? Maybe something a bit less formal - like maybe a walk through the city or maybe a picnic or something?"

You chuckle, your eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. “I’d absolutely love that, Marcus.”

“Yeah?” He beams, all teeth and pink grinning lips.

“I’d love to spend more time with you, definitely. I’ve really enjoyed tonight too. Almost don’t want it to end.” You say as your fingers glide over his knuckles.

“Well, it doesn’t have to… I-I mean, the night is still young, perhaps we could go for that walk? Or get another drink elsewhere? I know a good cocktail lounge in town, if you're feeling fruity?” Marcus suggests.

He’s careful not to sully the line between polite etiquette and implied impropriety. But you both chuckle at his choice of words.

“Sounds good.” You agree, all twinkly at him, and he can feel his heart soar.

He fetches your coat and holds it open for you as you slip it on. He carries the vase of flowers out towards the parking lot, suggesting he puts them in the car so he can hold your hand freely as you walk together somewhere, anywhere.

But you both don’t make it on that walk, or to the cocktail lounge, as instead you turn to him and go to kiss him, taking him by surprise that he almost drops the vase of flowers as your lips barely graze his cheek.

“I’m sorry, I just had to,” you say, a little flustered and giggly.

“Wait,” he says, and you watch him plonk the vase on the ground safely, and his arms pull you towards him. “Okay, let’s try that again.”

Smiling, Marcus leans in as you tiptoe up and your lips finally meet; soft, inviting and delicate.

A smooch that lasts and morphs slowly into something more passionate, more desired. And confirms everything you hoped and imagined about him from the moment you laid eyes on him this evening: Marcus Moreno knows how to damn well kiss.

You trace the line of his bottom lip with yours, nipping it gently and it elicits a moan from deep within him that warms your bone marrow.

His hands traverse the length of your back pulling you in closer to him as he gently slips his tongue into your wanting mouth.

Your fingers trace the soft silk of his beard; his moustache gently tickling your top lip deliciously. It’s a tender, unhurried exploration, one that sparks fireworks inside your veins.

His thick fingers, calloused by the harsh realities of his journey, find their way into your hand, stroking gently, and you can feel something crackle between them.

You eventually part and draw in much needed breaths from where he’s inhaled all of you deep into his chest cavity.

“Wow, t-that was-” He begins with a bewildered stutter.

“It was,” you agree, smiling into his face as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

“You taste so good,” he groans, placing his hands on your waist gently, respectfully, as you stroke up his thick arms.

You're so close, pressed into him and you can feel the swell of him against you making you smirk.

“It’s the tiramisu,” you chuckle.

“No, it's all you.” He whispers softly shaking his head. “Would you… would you like to come back to mine for some coffee?”

“Coffee you say?” You smile with raised eyebrows. “You know that's code, right?” You tease.

He laughs. “I’m not being presumptuous, I just… I kinda don’t want the night to end. And I’d really like to kiss you some more.”

“I know what you mean. And I’d love some. Both coffee and kissing.”

Marcus opens the passenger side door for you as you seat yourself in, and he smiles warmly with glittery peepers that render you speechless.

Leaning in, he kisses you again, bent in through the door and unable to abnegate himself away from you.

With the flowers secured in your lap, he sets off and you admire the clean interior of his Camry and watch him drive as he turns to smile at you through the shadows.

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his mouth to kiss over it gently as he drives.

Pulling into the driveway at Marcus’s home a short ride later, you unclick your seatbelt as he turns off the engine.

“I can drive you home at any point. Just say the word and we’ll go. I’m not expecting anything more from-”

“Marcus. Take me inside and make me some coffee.” You reassure him by squeezing his thigh gently.

Marcus’s home is large and spacious, but homely in all the right ways with subtle Hispanic influences woven through the decor, and incredibly neat and tidy than what you would expect from a bachelor living alone.

“Is this your garden?” You query as you glance out the french doors keenly whilst he makes coffee in the kitchen.

The vase of flowers is perched on the counter top, and your eyes recognise the blooms swaying in clusters the gentle breeze around the garden where he cut them from, despite the darkness of the evening.

“Yeah,” he says proudly, as he brings over the mugs.

“It looks beautiful. Can we sit out there?”

“Sure.” He opens the door for you and you step out onto the patio.

Lit by the soft glow of ambient solar lights, the garden unfolds like a hidden oasis. The centrepiece is a small, pristine pool, its turquoise waters reflecting the moonlight as if inviting a tempting midnight swim.

Your body clenches deliciously at the thought of seeing him undress to join you naked in the water - two water nymphs wet and writhing against each other.

Surrounding the pool, an array of vibrant flowers and lush greenery embraces the space. Potted plants adorn the periphery in terracotta homes, showcasing an array of herbs that hint at the culinary adventures Marcus enjoys embarking on in his kitchen.

The scent of lavender and rosemary lingers in the air, adding a fragrant dimension to the balmy Texan night that awaits you both.

As you settle by the pool at the small metal table and chairs under a large, sun-faded parasol, coffee cups in hand, Marcus shares more stories of his connection to the garden - his mother shaping his green fingered talent.

Inspiring him with a sanctuary of her own that blended the influence of his Latino heritage within the serenity of nature growing up as a boy. He also lets slip a little more about his life as a Heroic, and the fact his mother was his mentor and trainer.

“Was?” You query gently.

He nods with a dipped smile. “She passed just before I fully retired. Unexpected, but peaceful at least.” He summises quietly.

“I’m so sorry. She sounds like an incredibly formidable woman.”

“She was. She would’ve liked you.” He says with a pricking smile.

You smile under your eyelashes as you drink more of your velvety coffee.

The night unfolds under the bokeh stars, the inky expanse above causing you both to question and ponder jointly on some of life’s bigger questions and philosophies. Sharing a profound connection that transcends cultures and backgrounds to agree on more common threads that weave around you both, tethering you together further still.

Marcus, his dark-rimmed spectacles reflecting the glow of the night in the lenses, looks at you with a warmth that's far from the ordinary, what feels like hours later.

"You know, it's getting late. I could drive you home if you'd like?" He queries tentatively.

“Trying to get rid of me already, hmm?” You tease.

“God no.” He shakes his head vehemently. “Far from it.”

“I mean, I don’t wanna impose or anything.” You’re quick to add, realising that you’re probably keeping him up.

“No, no imposition at all.” Marcus assures. He reaches for your hand, slotting his fingers in yours.

“Good, because I believe I was promised more kisses, Mr Moreno.” You smile.

At that, he instantly pulls you closer to him by your seat; it scrapes across the patio and he engulfs your face in his giant hands.

“I never do this.” He says, panting after breaking the intense kiss. A kiss that he can feel igniting his whole body.

“You never kiss on a first date?” You gasp as you feel a flurry in your core.

“I mean, you’re my first date since… my wife.” He clarifies.

“I’d love for you to tell me about her some time.”

He nods. “I’d like that.”

"And it's okay. I don't usually do this either." You reassure. "But I really like it..."

"Me too," he smiles leaning in to kiss you some more.

As you sit by the pool, occasionally pressing your lips to one another for periods of time that wash away in a dreamy, pastel haze, the unspoken desire to extend the evening lingers in the air.

Marcus hesitates, a wibble of vulnerability in his voice as he clears his throat.

"Would you... consider staying? I’m really enjoying your company. I-I have a guest room, and you're more than welcome to use it." He tries not to physically wince as he lays it out bare. “I mean, I’m just enjoying your-”

“Would you like me to stay?” You question with your smile widening.

Marcus nods. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to. We don’t have to do anything, nothing’s expected. Just kissing you like this is really nice.”

“Yeah, it really does. You’re a really good kisser, Marcus.” You suck his bottom lip gently and he moans.

“Well, I really like to kiss. Feels good to have someone to kiss again.”

“I don’t want to stop kissing you all night.” You agree as he brushes his lips against yours, his moustache tickling.

“Stay? Let me hold you?” Marcus questions, although it sounds like he’s pleading with you through those strangled gasps as he tastes your tongue again.

You nod, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in his strong arms all night and to wake up in them. "Okay."

It feels right, natural between you. Two strangers who feel like they know one another inside out already - it’s easy with him.

And your attraction to him knows no bounds as you’re greedy for his presence and touch alike, and allow him to take your hand and lead you back inside.

Marcus listens.

Listens to every small gasp that ebbs out of you as his fingers stroke over your skin, tracing over the areas that make you shudder and hitch your breath in anticipation.

He learns that you hiss a little when he kisses your neck, when he sucks your earlobe into his mouth and nibbles gently on it with his teeth.

He learns that you’re ticklish on your hips and you giggle into his mouth uncontrollably, snorting ungraciously a little, when he does it again, making him laugh in turn.

He respectfully traverses the route of your body, mapping it out with his fingers stroking the length of your arms, his lips pressed at the juncture of your throat.

He listens to recall and remember and to please you. God, he just wants to please you and leave you satisfied.

But he also wants to leave you wanting, craving more of him. Begging even… He takes his time kissing you, tasting you and touching you. Letting you unfurl in his hands like a tiny bud, blooming into something spectacular and colourful as he waters you.

The both of you are soon in his bedroom, unable to resist being parted from one another.

His fingers feel like tingly electricity zapping through your skin layers, and he explains that he can’t seem to control it around you as your lips peck at him under his jaw rendering him a quivering mess in your own hands.

It's a curious sensation, a subtle vibration with a pinch of static as the pads of his fingers graze your cheeks gently; it makes your blood fizz through your veins as you feel it pulse into your epidermis and pores.

“What other powers do you have?” You query, lost in the richness of his eyes, as he winds strands of your hair around his digits.

“Just this." He runs his pads over your lips and you feel that soft, gently muted vibration sink into the meat of them that makes you groan as it tingles into the depth of your jaw. "I’m pretty good with a katana too.”

"Are you boasting, Marcus?" You tease.

"I'll be happy to show you my sword wielding skills anytime."

You both laugh as he realises what he just insinuated.

“So you can’t fly?” You query, stroking under his chin. Your fingers trace a small, uniquely heart-shaped patch where no hair seems to grow on the left side. You watch as he closes his eyes and pushes his jaw into your hand further.

“No, I can. But with the help of a flight device.”

“A flight device?”

“Maybe I’ll show you. Take you up. In the sky.” Marcus muses.

“You’re going to take me to new heights, hmm?” You smirk.

“Well, I’ll certainly try,” he says, rubbing his nose against yours.

He grazes gentle, languid kisses down your neck, settling on the curve where your shoulder hilts.

He runs his aquiline nose there delicately, inhaling the faint remnants of your perfume with vanilla and coconut notes that makes him salivate.

"I'm scared of heights," you murmur dreamily.

"Well, I'll be sure to hold onto you extra tight." Marcus takes a hold of you, pulling you fully into his arms.

"Like this?" You whisper.

"Just like this." He says as he wraps them around your back.

"You won't let me go?"

He shakes his head. "Never."

You find yourself straddling his lap; your bodies simply moving of their own rhythmic volition as they slot into place effortlessly and without instruction or hesitation; his large hands sweep up your back as you kiss him deeply.

Your fingers roam in the softness of the greying silk of his bearded scruff. You explore the broadness of his shoulders, the tightness of his biceps over the soft cashmere, journeying over the wide expanse of him as he pulls you closer in his protective embrace.

"I don't want this to end," he murmurs into your shoulder.

"Me either," you sigh with a smile. “This might sound incredibly forward, but... I want you, Marcus,” you whisper into his mouth.

You can feel him pressed against you, hard and swollen in his pants and it’s difficult to ignore his desire when it so brazenly taunts your own.

“You’re sitting in my lap on my bed, I think we're past being forward,” he chuckles.

“True,” you giggle.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? There’s no pressure at all. I didn’t invite you here with an agenda.”

You nod with a keen smile. “I know. But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am right now. Do you want me, too?”

“I’ve never wanted someone so much.” He says with glistening eyes. “It’s been so long though. I-I don’t even know if I’ll be any good.” He gulps heavily and it wrenches your heart a little.

You press your fingers to his kiss-bruised lips and he can’t help but mouth against them. “Marcus, you're perfect.”

“Kiss me again,” he whines as he presses himself even closer to you.

Attaching yourself to his lips once more, he sighs contentedly into your mouth, tongue swirling gently around yours and sucking on your lips.

He holds his arms up as you lift up the hem of his sweater. Your fingers slide over the silk knot of his tie, undoing it. He loves that when you loosen it, you use it to yank him forward to kiss you deeper still, guiding him closer to your body to be tangled up with you.

You undo the buttons slowly on his shirt to reveal tanned skin and the broadest shoulders you’ve ever seen on a man.

A couple of scars dapple over them and his sternum, like white lightning streaks against the gold shimmer of his skin, and he shudders as you trail your fingertips over them delicately.

“I wanna know all about these.” You say beholding him. “You must have some incredible battle stories from your time in the Heroics.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He promises.

“I wanna know everything about you.” You breathe as you feel him nibble at your collarbone.

“The feeling is incredibly mutual,” he replies softly as he brushes your hair from your face. “Can I take this off?” Marcus asks, running his fingers along the silken hem of your dress that’s ridden up your thighs.

“Yes,” you smile at his politeness despite the carnal heat running through the both of you.

He pulls it up over your head and audibly groans at your choice of matching underwear, lacy and delicate.

His eyes trail hungrily over your body and you don’t feel the need to cover up the lumps, bumps and stretch marks; the way he looks at you burns in your core.

“You're just…” words fail him as you smile softly. “Wow.”

“It’s been a long time since a man saw me like this.” You admit, a little shy. "My body isn't what it used to be."

“You’re stunning. I’m lucky that it’s me who gets to enjoy you. Besides, I'm not exactly in my best shape." He grimaces looking down at the small swell of his tum puffing over his slacks.

"I think you're sexy." You say.

"Yeah?" He queries with raised eyebrows.

"Mm, really sexy." You confirm, stroking over the soft fat of him.

"Is this okay? We’re not going too fast? I wouldn’t want you to feel like I'm only after one thing.” He checks.

“I don’t think that at all.”

“Good, because I really like you. I want to see you again.” He says earnestly.

“Me too.” You agree nodding.

“Is it too early to presume this might be the start of something really special?” Marcus asks with a crooked grin. "I dunno, I just feel it."

You shake your head. “I feel it too.” You agree.

He kisses you again and you taste the truth of his words.

“I wanna feel you too. You can touch me, Marcus.” You whisper to him. “I want you to touch me everywhere with those magic hands...”

He grins, and his hands, albeit shaky, massage over your mounds, trailing around to your back where he hesitates at the clasp.

“Take it off,” you murmur as he unhooks your bra and licks his lips as your nipples are revealed to him.

Leaning forward, he trails kisses across your collarbone until his lips find your nipple and he sucks gently whilst you rake through his subtlety greying hair.

A pink wet tongue teases over your skin as he licks, causing your back to arch, pushing your breasts further into his mouth.

“Mmm,” you whine as the pull of your nipple between his lips is felt buzzing on your clit in response.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he trembles, but his voice seems deeper somehow, with more of a heavy graze inside his cheeks. “I wanna make love to you all night. Discover all the ways to please you."

He kisses down your sternum just under your breasts. "I wanna make you come all over me…” He says between rasped breaths. “God, I want you screaming my name.”

“I want you inside me, Marcus." You gasp.

He groans at that. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me either. But it feels so good.” You say, smiling at him.

You help him remove his pants until he’s in his boxers and lying back as you climb over him, leaning down to kiss him as his hands pull you closer to him.

The hairs on your body stand tall as his hands create that wonderful tingle to curl your spine out and your nipples to tighten.

The bulge in his boxers is unignorably prominent and you can’t abnegate yourself away from reaching down in between your bodies to feel him, squeezing over him gently as he grunts into your mouth.

“You feel amazing,” you whisper as he blushes. “I wanna taste you, will you let me?”

“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head, “that’s not how we do things in my house. Ladies come first.” Marcus smirks.

He rolls with you and you giggle as he kisses down your body to the thin hemline of your panties. He runs his hands up and down your hips and stomach, and you feel those tingly crackles from his fingertips ignite your skin once more.

He kisses and lavishes gentle nuzzles against your tummy, and you hum out feeling the soft tickle of his facial hair across it.

You lift your hips as he gently pulls down your panties, watching keenly as he kisses down your legs. He takes your ankle and rests your foot on his shoulder as he lays between your thighs.

And then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Marcus transforms from hero to villain as he licks a long, lingering stripe up your pussy.

“Oh my God, yes…” You whine.

He looks up at you with molten brown eyes as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit and you sonic boom inside at the sight and feel of it.

He massages and strokes your inner thigh as he tastes you, running his tongue in and around your soaked lips and murmuring in keen delight.

The softness of his beard feels like liquid silk against your skin as his nose grazes and nudges your clit whilst he teases your hole, pushing his tongue inside you.

You reach down and pull off his glasses, giggling as the lenses are smeared with your slick already.

“You taste delicious.” Marcus husks before going back in for more, hungry for your as he laps and licks.

"Mmm, Marcus..." You whine, arching your back as you keen for more of his tongue. He presses it against your clit, sucks gently on the nub and licks and sucks through your drenched folds.

He makes you come with just his mouth, sucking expertly on your clit before he slips his fingers in, coming up to suckle on your nipple again as he pumps them in and out of you.

He’s astonished how wet you are for him; his fingers squelching and the sounds are lewd as he whelves.

“God, you’re so perfect,” Marcus says as he leans in to kiss you again: his beard his damp from your secretions. “So wet and tight. Does that feel good?”

“So good.” You groan.

“More?”

“More.”

He speeds up, fingers deep to the hilt of his knuckles. “Harder?”

“Yes!” You cry as you feel it overtake you, a mesh veil cast over your sight as the room fills with gold glitter.

“Marcus! Your fingers! Oh my God!” You gasp as you can feel those crackles again, only inside you now; deep in the pit of your core right on your spot, and your thighs shake uncontrollably.

He circles your clit with his thumb and the sensation completely overwhelms as you feel it there too, buzzing all the way deep into that fleshy hub.

Your eyes catch him smirking at you as he applies the perfect amount of tingly pressure. And that look in his eye tells you he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

You’re coming quicker than you can fathom, dizzy from the pulsing shocks and giggling uncontrollably at the delicious buzzing it creates.

“Jesus!” You yelp at him as he grins devilishly. “How do you even do that?!” You gasp as he pulls his fingers out and you watch, wholly spellbound, as he sucks them clean.

“Benefits of having a superpower, I guess. I used to think it was weird... having magnetised hands.” He remarks casually, as if he didn’t just rock your world with those digits of his.

“I don’t know how I’ll compete,” you say, pushing him onto his back as he kisses you.

“You’re perfect as you are, trust me,” he breathes, watching as you slide down his body.

You kiss over the soft swell of his tummy, lavishing it with wet kisses over and over as he gathers your hair inside his hands to watch you. You look up at him as your fingers slip into the fold of his waistband.

He nods, too dumbstruck to comment verbally as he watches you slip down between his legs and pull off his boxers.

He’s big - bigger than you anticipated, and so thick. You’re unsure how he kept it hidden in his pants all night. He’s perfectly uncut with a flush pink head that’s positively dripping for you.

You make out with his cock gently, barely mouthing over him with the gooey strings of his precum sticking to your lips like gloss, and making him hiss and gasp.

He’s well groomed and the subtle greys in the thatch of neatly trimmed hairs there at the base of him are just as soft as his beard.

You tongue his head, flicking back and forth over that drooling slit and taste the salt of him before teasing his frenulum that makes his hips buck involuntarily.

"Y-yeah," he chokes on a ragged whisper.

You take him in your mouth fully, and he groans long and deep, head lolling back as he feels your hot, wet mouth encase him and suck slowly down his length.

You can take him about three-quarters of the way before you feel him prod at the back of your throat, and although you're tempted to see if you can swallow him fully and press your nose against his soft belly, tonight’s not the night for ungraceful choking.

Although, your body flares at the thought of how uncouth and dirty he could be with you; imagining his usual politeness being traded for filthy demands as his huge hands press on the back of your head, forcing you to take him all the way down your throat.

You whimper around his cock at the thought, feeling your cunt contract and drip.

“You’re so good at that,” Marcus keens as he glances down at you.

Your eyes flick up at him as you smirk around your mouthful of him and it’s not long before he’s pulling you back up and kissing you with an intense hunger that steals the breath from your lungs.

He rolls you onto your back, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he grinds against your centre.

You whine as the length of him slides back and forth against your slit, soaking and greasing him up in your slick. The ridge of his head knocking against your clit builds you up again as you bite your lip staring up into his chocolaty eyes.

"Feels so good," you whisper, clutching onto him.

“Yeah? I don’t wanna hurt you, so I'll go slow, okay?” Marcus whispers as you reach for his thick cock and swipe him through your pussy lips.

You both shudder as you do it.

“You won’t.” You reassure him as you stroke him and he groans. “I want you inside me.”

He lines up, his swollen head dipping slowly into your fleshy folds as he lingers there, pushing gently and barely against your hole.

You’re so wet he could easily slide all the way in with one flex of his hips, but it feels too damn good already, and he’s apprehensive to finish so quickly before he’s even started.

“The things I wanna do to you...” Marcus murmurs bashfully.

“Sounds intriguing,” you smirk as he pushes in a little more. "Tell me, I-oh!"

You gasp as you feel yourself opening around him, stretching as his thick head pushes in further.

“We’ve got all t-the time in the... ahhh, world,” he breathes. “All the time to find... hmmm, new ways to pull you apart on my cock. My fingers, my tongue…” He grunts as he slides in.

“Mmm, fuck," you let slip in his ear and he groans.

“Fuck indeed,” he grizzles as he pulls back a little and slides in again, and hearing him finally curse makes your body shudder.

"You're so perfectly tight around me," he puffs.

“You feel so big,” you say, nodding in encouragement. “I want you to fill me up, Marcus.”

“Yeah?” He breathes as he slides in further. “Stop me if it's too much.”

“It’s not too much. It's perfect... you're perfect. Ohhh. More.” You pant. “Please, I wanna feel all of you. I need you.”

“You need me? You need my cock, hmm?” He teases with a grin.

“Mmm, I want it so badly.”

"I want you so badly."

You look down between you as he breaches fully, hips flushed tight against you as he bottoms out and you both groan, eyes pulled back to one another.

You grapple for him, desperate for him to kiss you again as he works his hips. Soft breathy pants fill your ears as he finds satisfaction and a steady rhythm within your wet warmth.

He’s gentle, but powerful; winding slowly, and buried so deep inside you. It feels like it’s too much, but not enough and you claw at his back desperately each time he withdraws and thrusts back in.

“Mmm, you’re so deep…” You murmur into his lips.

“It’s not too much?”

“No, you feel incredible.”

“You take me so well, hermosa.” Marcus praises.

“Oh, I forgot you speak Spanish…” You smirk, all glistening teeth at him.

“¿Quieres que te hable sucio en Español?” (Do you want me to talk dirty in Spanish to you?)

You chuckle, utterly beside yourself. “I have no idea what you just said, but yes. God, yes!”

He smirks into your lips as he kisses you again, his hips doing all the work with each, deep languid stroke.

“I love feeling every inch of you.” You pant as he speeds up a little.

“All of me... Every. Inch. Of. Me.” He thrusts on every syllable, deliberately making you gasp.

“You feel so good, Marcus. I’m gonna come soon.” You sigh, feeling it build behind your core muscles, cinching and tightening in that delicious wind before you snap back on yourself.

“I can feel you squeezing me. I bet you’ll look so beautiful when you come all over my cock. Come for me. Let me see you.”

He feels your fingers bruising in his skin, tastes your pants fizzing on his tongue like sherbet.

Sitting upright, he pulls your hips right up off the bed as he slips back inside you, fucking deep into you on his knees.

He hits all the right spots at this angle and your whimpers soon become loud hollers and yelps as he pushes against your spot relentlessly and tosses you into oblivion once more.

"Come for me," he pants.

You claw at the sheets; your eyes rolled so far back that you swear you can see the inside of your skull and all the swampy lilac clouds floating around in there. Your body sheens with sweat already, as does his; mercury drizzle, shimmering in the pale light of his bedroom lamps.

You’re almost there; a flutter in your chest as your heart flies away to be gifted to him with metallic ribbon curls wrapped around it. A building warmth, igniting from within, growing more wild like fire consuming and burning everything up in its path, scorches your skin.

An electric charge of anticipation, spurred on by the crackled pulses from his fingers around your hips, pulls your orgasm right out of you like ridding you of a hostile possession.

You screech as it leaves your bones.

“That’s it, hermosa. Come for me!” Marcus pleads with a hiss as you shake and gasp as he turns you inside out.

Pulling you upright against his chest, he’s stunned at you. “You look so beautiful.” He says, almost choking as your bonelessness.

“M-Marcus!” You wail, his cock buried deeper.

“Yeah, keep coming for me,” he encourages as he watches you wind and bounce on top of him.

You groan, throwing your head back and losing count of the number of times he’s made you come already.

You slow and grind on him as iridescent bubbles flow and burst around you; your thighs never-ending in their shaking, and he watches in rapture as you take his breath away.

“From behind?” You suggest breathlessly after a few moments of coming down from that tremendous high he throws you up to so easily.

“Anything you want, beautiful.”

He slides down your body, kissing the length of your back and all over your butt cheeks before spreading you open and tasting your pussy again with his tongue.

His lips never leave your skin, even when you turn around and bend forward with your ass up in his face.

He reaches down between your legs to stroke your clit. You feel him kissing the side of your head, nuzzling into you as he pushes himself back into you slowly. And the feel of him at this angle, this depth, makes you mewl as he hits deeper than before.

He stops for a moment when he sees you backing up and gyrating on the end of his cock, reaching round to grab the meat of his thigh and moaning incoherently at how good it feels.

“You look amazing doing that,” he drawls before holding onto your hips and drawing deep into you with slow, measured thrusts shunting through your body. “That feel good, like this?”

“Yeah… so good.”

“Mmm, I-I can barely stand it,” he pants. "I'm close."

“Come for me, Marcus.” You whisper to him as he fucks you faster.

“Mmm, oh God.” He whines as his hips start to snap harder, his grip around your hips squeezes tighter.

He's marvelling and gasping as he watches you shake again, shake for him. That he still has the power to make someone feel this damn good after all this time.

That he could fathom such a thought of making love to a woman again when he had convinced himself for so long he would endure his remaining years alone, his left fist as his only release.

But then you showed up, careening into his life through a device he held in the palm of his hand; laughing at his humour, smiling that incredible smile at him. Wanting to know more about him and just... wanting him.

And here he is, deep inside of you now and not able to get enough of how you squeeze around his cock bringing him to the brink of his own annihilation. You kill him and resurrect him, to do it all over again.

“I’m gonna come!” Marcus pants, cheeks and chest flushed a glorious pink amongst the natural bronze.

“So am I. Don't stop!” You wail.

“Where? I’m so close! Tell me where you want it...” He can feel it building and rushing towards the end of his cock.

“Inside me, come inside me.” You pant.

“You sure?”

“Fill me up until it’s all dripping out of me.”

“Fuck!” He yells. "Oh fuck!"

Marcus growls out that sweet blasphemy that makes your toes curl and your cunt clench as he comes, filling you up as you so coveted, as he spurts out inside you - warm, thick and plentiful.

A brief moment of his weight against your back crushes you into the bed as he flops down over you, panting and groaning in your ear.

Smiling, you turn and kiss the side of his face buried in the crook of your sweaty neck.

“That was incredible, you're incredible.” He whimpers, voice all muffled in your skin and hair a few minutes later.

He rolls with you, pulling you into his arms against his clammy chest as you both catch your breath.

“I can’t take all the credit, you were pretty incredible yourself there, Mr Moreno.” You grin.

“Yeah. Looks like I’ve still got it after all.” He puffs with a bewildered chuckle.

“No doubt about that.” You giggle and laugh with him, as Marcus wraps the comforter around you both.

The soft hum of the morning unfolds around you.

Eyelids opening and lashes fluttering against his chest, you're accompanied by the distant sounds of nature awakening outside.

Marcus, still in the relaxed embrace of slumber, seems to embody the tranquillity of the dawn as you gaze up at him longingly.

His rhythmic breathing through soft snuffles, his heartbeat in your ear, resonates with the peaceful serenity that surrounds you in his downy sheets that smell faintly of his lingering cologne and your heady sex.

As you lay in Marcus's arms, you spend a few minutes contemplating the next exciting steps between you, when the prominent ache registers between your legs, which makes you smile as you recall the moment he first sheathed himself inside you.

It makes you clench around nothing and you moan softly in want, squeezing your thighs together at the vivid memory.

You’re compelled to kiss him, planting tender smooches across his chest and up to his neck, when he stirs and his lips find yours and latch on again.

Your hand slides down his sternum, over the warm, smooth swell of his stomach, and you find him stiff and weeping for your touch.

He grunts into your mouth as you pump him, fingers wrapped around his length as he hardens fully. His own digits course those pinpricking tingles down your spine again as you shudder and arch.

He bites his lip, eyes closing in satisfaction as you work his cock and feel it throb with need in your hand.

Soon Marcus slips in behind you, clutching you close to his chest; his fingers entwining in tight knots with your own. He fills you again, your moans surrounding him as he kisses and nips on the back of your neck, and it feels like a dream you don't ever want to wake from.

You’re full of him, sticky and drenched from the night of intense love making that never seemed like it would relent. His stamina surprised you both, but was incredibly welcome, alongside the equally surprising refractory period that will leave you aching for days.

You lost count of the number of times he was inside you. Unable to get enough of each other, wanting more, more, more and giving more, more, more.

“You’re so beautiful in the morning,” Marcus cants into your ear as he fills you to the brim, fucking softly into you from behind. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He wraps his arms tighter around you as you squeeze around his cock.

“Trust me, I'm the lucky one,” you whine as his fingers slip down and stroke over your clit bringing about another orgasm that prickles and tingles under his expert ministrations.

You soon sit in his lap, rocking back and forth on his solid cock buried deep inside you as Marcus nuzzles into your face. You work your hips riding him, his shoulders banging gently into the headboard.

His hair is a sleepy, wild mess with streaks of grey running through short curls you never knew he had under that tamed back style he had for your date, and he’s never looked more beautiful as they fall into face.

The way he looks at you makes you come again, with something so warm and so sincere swimming inside his lust blown eyes at you.

"So beautiful, hermosa," he murmurs with a smile at you.

He leans back on his hand, his other squeezing around your butt as you ride you both to a mutual intense finale of whimpers and names called out in desire and want.

After you still, feeling him seep out of you whilst he remains plugged inside until he softens, fawning and kissing over your face, you smile gently as you plant kisses along his silky jaw.

“Good morning,” Marcus smiles as you feel his lashes against your cheeks.

“Morning handsome.” You sigh dreamily.

“How did you sleep?” He enquires.

“Terribly. I had an incredibly attractive man between my legs for most of the night keeping me up.”

“That sounds awful.” He smirks as you kiss him again, and Marcus determines he never wants to stop kissing you or hearing your breathy giggles.

“Sleep is for the weak. It was amazing.” You say and he’s inclined to agree, on both counts.

“You hungry? You wanna stay for some breakfast?”

“I’d love to.” You smile.

“What are you doing later this afternoon?”

“Hmm, not much planned, will probably be thinking about you.”

“Is that so?” He enquires with a smirk.

“Mmhm. I have a feeling you'll be hard to forget.”

“Want some company whilst you think about that, maybe some lunch, too?”

“Sounds perfect. Perhaps we can drag ourselves away from each other long enough to go for that walk.”

“Doubtful,” he concedes and you giggle nodding in agreement. “But we’ll give it a shot.”

“You’re incredible.” You whisper to him and his eyes soften as you regard up at him.

It's been a long time since a woman looked at him like you are now.

“No, it's all you, hermosa, trust me.” He smiles into your mouth.

"I like that, that thing you say."

"Hermosa?"

"Yeah." You smile.

“Good." He kisses your temple. "Stay here, relax. I’ll make you some breakfast in bed. Then I’ll drive you home, okay?”

He winks as you watch him pull on his boxers and reach for a pair of grey sweatpants hanging out of the hamper.

“You spoil me, Mr Moreno.” You say, watching him pull them up his thick, muscular thighs.

“Mmm, I intend to. How do you feel about pancakes?”

“Ugh, my hero.” You swoon.

“Dad?” Missy calls as he hears the front door open around twenty minutes or so after he’s arrived back from dropping you home.

Admittedly it was hard parting from you; kissing you with soft whimpers in the car outside your place, and basking in that post first date glow.

Marcus is hesitant to wash the scent of you off of his skin, convinced that if he does he’ll wake from this wonderful dream to find you’re not real.

A text from you, complete with an emoji purple heart, convinces him to stop being silly and that you are real, and last night and this morning was wanted and reciprocated in equal yearning.

He can't stop thinking about it, about you. His cock aches again as the images of you both wrapped up in one another flash behind his glasses.

Your message confirms the time for him to pick you up later and he smiles reading that you can’t wait to see him again. And to kiss him.

And to feel him inside you again...

“Hey,” he calls out from the kitchen, feeling heated as he tucks his phone away in his pocket.

"How was the date? Don't leave out any details!" Missy warns as she makes her way down the hall.

She comes in, putting down her bag and immediately spots the coffee cups and plates as he gathers them to wash up; clear evidence that he’s had some company this morning.

Then she spies his dishevelled appearance, clad still in the creased t-shirt and sweatpants he drove you home in, and hair that hasn’t been combed as he quickly rakes his fingers through it almost desperately.

She grins up at him as he tries not to blush, but fails. “I might omit some details.” Marcus says sheepishly.

“Must have been a hell of a date.” Missy mirths, perching on the breakfast bar stool.

“Well, she’s a hell of a woman.” He says, smiling behind his spectacles. "It was really... wonderful. She looked stunning, and we had a really great time together."

"Yeah, I bet you did." She remarks with a widening grin.

"Stop it." He groans, flushed.

“You’re glowing.”

“Shut up.” Marcus mumbles and fails to stifle a wayward grin.

Beaming, Missy watches him as he fills the sink with soapy water.

“What?” He asks after he can still feel her eyes on him.

“Are you seeing her again?”

“Yeah, later this afternoon for lunch.” He smiles.

“Good.” She chirps.

She comes up beside him, picking up a dish cloth and dries the dishes as he places them in the rack.

They both complete the task in silence, both trying to stifle their grins at one another.

Once done, she turns to him.

“I’m really happy for you, Dad.” Missy says, as she wraps her arms around him. He rests his chin on top of her head and smiles.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Go and shower. You smell like a slut.” Missy remarks.

"Potty mouth," he points at her with a mock-frown.

"At least I know where mine's been..." She grins.

Shaking his head in defeat, Marcus chuckles, blushing beet red, as he pads out of the kitchen and up the stairs, feeling more invincible than he’s ever felt before.

💜

Thank you so much for reading my Marcus Moreno story (if you made it to the end, hopefully you did!) and I really hope you enjoyed it. I'd love to hear your thoughts about my version of him. Thanks so much! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno fluff #marcus moreno x you #we can be heores fic #jett's writing #sometimes heroes are more than just super #mature marcus moreno

[vampyrsm]

warnings; mentions of death (not bakugou or reader), injuries mention, blood mention, teeny tiny bit of angst that turns into fluffy comfort, baby used as a pet name.

There's a buzz of your phone on the kitchen table at 8:32pm, you don't make a quick dash to get it - already cooking dinner for when your husband gets home later that night.

Another 15 minutes pass, and there's no more buzz which can only mean it's one thing. Katsuki tried to call you. He's never one for calling twice, he likes to be quick and precise. If you're busy, he gets it. He doesn't pester. You love that about him, he respects your space because you respect the time he takes for his job.

Finally meandering over to your phone, you're not surprised to see the (1) New Voice Message! on your screen. You press it, going through the motions of pressing 2, then 3, and finally it starts to play.

There's some sort of background noise, maybe just the busy street he's currently patrolling. It's awkwardly quiet at first, always is with Katsuki on the phone. A man who prefers a face-to-face conversation.

"Hi, I was just callin' to uh—" He clears his throat, and there's a scuff of his boots on the concrete. "Just callin' to tell you how much I love ya, you mean the fuckin' world to me and—...yeah, I love you."

It's uncharacteristically sweet, so to say, for Katsuki. He only reserves that kind of adoration when he's in the safety and comfort of your arms in bed, or when you both share a late-night glass of wine on his weekends off.

It makes your stomach drop. There's something in his tone, he sounds sad. Something Bakugou Katsuki is not known for. He's known to be brimstone and fire, with sharp edges and mean scowls to anyone who doesn't know him.

Something just isn't right.

It's around 11:12pm when Bakugou finally gets back to the agency, his shoulders ache and his neck burns something fierce from holding up the weight of his gauntlets all evening. He rubs a gloved hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face when graced with the beautiful blast of the A/C when he crosses through the threshold.

The agency is quiet at this time of the night, something he's thankful for. The receptionist is usually gone by now, and only the night shift sidekicks should be on the 14th floor where they get ready for a long night of chasing villains.

He's a bit late returning from the end of his patrol; some fucking idiot trying to mug an elderly man on his patrol route. It should've only taken him five minutes tops but the guy had some sort of slime quirk, aka ridiculously difficult to get a hold of.

But he did it, and now he's back in the safe confines of his agency. He can shower when he gets home he reasons, he doesn't want to be apart from you any longer than necessary.

Today was... rough. To say the least, one of the first cases he has to take point on was difficult. Not in the sense that it was a skill issue on his end, he's a well-seasoned pro. Instead, this was because of the parties involved. There was a woman, a fiancée. Bakugou had arrived at the scene midway through, a call from another hero requesting backup. It wasn't on his usual route but it wasn't too far.

Anyway, once he got there he was confronted with something that had his heart genuinely aching. The woman mentioned before, was covered in soot and ash, the colour of her hair a muted dusty grey from what must've been from the concrete walls next to her that had been blown open.

But the most damning thing was the blood coating her face, and her hands and she was crying. God was she crying, it took everything in Bakugou to focus on the part of his training he had to take over and over as an up-and-coming pro. He had to be supportive, he managed to wrangle the woman down from near hysteria until she was crumpling in on herself as he held her whilst waiting for the ambulance.

The words she spoke stuck with him the most, she had mentioned the blood wasn't hers. Nor was it the suspects. It was her fiancé's. She said that she was just meeting up with him, that he had been away for a few days at work and they were going to go for a nice lunch together.

But it never happened, the wall of the shop next to them crushed him on impact leaving her standing in the aftermath.

"I never got to tell him I loved him today, I was—I was so busy with work. I, I thought I'd wait until I saw him. To kiss him, tell him I love him but I—I never got to."

It fucking made Bakugou sick. The thought of you being wiped away just like that made him uneasy, you both knew it was possible but he did his hardest to ensure it never fucking happened.

Because Bakugou doesn't know what he'd do without you.

So he left that voicemail, he wanted to actually speak to you but he was just starting his shift and he knew you'd be busy. He didn't think much about what he said, nor did he think that it'd get him into so much trouble the second he stepped into his office.

Immediately, he freezes at what he sees.

Eijirou is comforting you. Now, Bakugou isn't a jealous man and he doesn't make assumptions. But he is confused as to just why Eijirou is comforting you, and why are you crying?

He doesn't get the chance to speak though. You practically leap out of Kirishima's arms, the redhead startled enough to actually let you go and he wishes he doesn't when he sees you lunge for Bakugou.

But he relaxes, a bit, when you glue yourself to Bakugou's front with your arms tight around his neck to pull him a little more down to your level.

"Baby, wha—"

"You! You motherfucker!" You all but hoarsely yell, your eyes are all puffy and red from crying and he can't fucking think what the fuck he's done wrong to be called a motherfucker whilst also being hugged by you. Just what the fuck is going on?

"I thought you were dead!" Now he's even more confused! His eyebrows furrow, lips parting as if to silently ask what you mean but you continue anyway. "Never, ever, send me a voicemail like that again. I thought it was your dying declaration or something!"

Ah. He gets it now. He did send that voicemail right after he was free to leave the scene, he didn't realise his emotions were so visible when he sent that voicemail.

His face softens, tired arms wrapping around you until you're crushed against him. Bakugou presses his forehead to yours, taking a deep breath in to be washed over by the soft scent of your body wash.

"'M so sorry baby, just... Just had a rough day, really needed you to know how much you mean to me."

"You're so stupid, you know that? Of course I know you lov—" He cuts you off with a shake of his head, quietly asking you to not fight him on this. So you don't. You just let him hold you, let him kiss your cheek - your nose, and finally your lips.

Kirishima awkwardly clears his throat causing Bakugou to uncurl himself from you. Kirishima only offers him a wobbly smile, something Bakugou knows as Ei trying his hardest to not cry about how 'manly' it is to say how much you love your partner.

"You should check your phone more man. I was two seconds away from sending out a search party to find Dynamight." Kirishima is always one to continue a conversation, easing it away from the sad atmosphere that developed.

Bakugou scoffs, cocking an eyebrow. "Two seconds? Why hesitate, Ei? You want my spot that bad?"

Now it's Kirishima's turn to splutter, scoffing in disbelief but Bakugou can't focus on whatever Kirishima might be saying in response when he hears your soft laughter.

A reminder that you're right here with him, in his arms, and that you know just how deep his love runs for you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

[soupandcats]

Sorry abt the big ask, but your colours are always really vibrant and interesting! They seem both saturated and subdued. What’s your general method for choosing them or are there any tricks/layer modes you use?

Thank you! This is gonna be a long one sorry😭

My favorite digital art trick for color is the curves tool! In procreate you press the wand tool in the top left corner (Adjustments) > Curves. I recommend just playing around with this until something you like happens.

Here’s a study I did with pretty standard colors.

Here are some versions of it after moving the curves around.

What I like about this is it’s a really quick way of changing the color scheme that’s more precise than applying a filter. It lets you see how far you can push things outside of what’s expected!

When I first started digital art I had so much trouble with color because unlike traditional, the colors have the ability to be fully opaque. With traditional if you’re doing a painting the paints/colored pencils/etc will naturally mix with one another creating a more cohesive overall image.

Here’s a drawing I did in 2020. As you can see it’s incredibly saturated. When I was picking colors I was working in the most saturated section for nearly every color.

These days even when I’m trying to make something super colorful I’ll force myself to desaturate it more than I think I need to. There are two ways to desaturate something. You can move it towards white or towards black.

Another thing I try to keep in mind is that colors look different based on what colors are around them. If you put gray next to a color it will look like that color’s complement. If you put a warm color next to a cool color they’ll amplify one another making both look more intense. In that same way if I put a super saturated color against a more neutral background the color will look even brighter.

I like this tapestry by Sheila Hicks. See how the orange is glowing against the more muted purples and blues?

Another thing I try to keep in mind is value. Like color it’s influenced by its surroundings. If you place a lighter color over a dark background it will look brighter than over a light background.

So in a piece the eye will be drawn to the areas of highest contrast first. And area that’s similar in both value and hue will recede into the background.

I really am not an expert on color I have so much to learn. I recommend Marco Bucci’s videos as well as the book The Art of Color if you’d like more detailed+accurate info! Color theory is the most fascinating thing I’m obsessed with it.

You don’t really need to know theory to be good at color though! Just playing around and figuring out what you like (I LOVE PURPLE) will make you better!

The most satisfying thing is when you’re making a drawing and you decide to add a little gray or a little orange or whatever and suddenly your piece just starts to SING!!!! (That purple/blue/orange part of the Sheila Hicks tapestry is singing to me it will forever make me happy)

Anyways I hope this helps! 💜💜💜

#ask

[darklyndivinely]

Let Me Love You

Pairing - Lucifer x gn!reader

Warnings - angst, fluff, talk of death, alcohol use.

Wordcount - 900+

A/N - Doomed by the narrative but choosing to keep going? I eat that shit up every time! Headers by @cafekitsune.

OM!Masterlist • Leave a tip! • Taglist Form • Lucifer Masterlist

“How long are you going to pretend?” you whisper, tracing the shadows the lapis lazuli-coloured fire casts across his face, sleek and wild and volatile in their density. “That this thing between us doesn’t exist? That I’m not hopelessly in love with you?”

Lucifer takes a hearty swill of the Demonus cradled in his hands. His eyes, lidded and opalescent red, connect with yours with the soft, lingering start of a violin solo in the background, and he tongues at the aftertaste of alcohol that lingers on his lips before saying, “Is this not enough? Being serenaded by my beloved music? Bearing witness to my delicate state?”

“What are you so afraid of?” You burrow deeper into the plush of the sofa, the conjoined dynamic heat of the fire, liquor and the outline of his body pressed against yours keeping your lips loose. “Death?”

"Only yours," he replies, voice deeper than usual. "Mine would be a miracle gone rogue.”

The cold of the floor has started to nip at your toes, seeping into sock and skin like algae embracing wet stone. The hearth sputters a burst of blue flame as if to soothe you. “Before or after mine?”

He answers in silence, loud and unsurprising. You shake your head and take a sip of your human poison to quell the uncertain thrill of your next words.

“...Do you, though?”

His eyes are frothing drops of blood in a sea of fire. They flicker infinitesimally downwards to your lips, then straighten, boring intensely into yours like a tantalizing still of the dawning sun that causes harm to the eyes yet coaxes the body to halt anyway.

“You know it.”

“And yet you dare not utter the words.” Disappointment unfurls in your chest like a weed in a flourishing farm.

He roughly pulls at his bottle, only to discover it light and empty. “Are you truly so greedy for those frail utterances to deliberately shy from actuality?”

"I'm only human," you spit, emptying your glass sharply, perhaps to draw attention to the liquor that evades his own flask. The subsequent burn in your throat then that seems to mimic the knot in your sternum comes across as irritating and deserved. "Spare me the condescension on days I grow tired of mute pining."

Lucifer swallows harshly, seeming to push down the words already half-formed on his tongue, setting his lacking bottle aside neglectfully. He abandons his seat and trudges towards his beloved liquor cabinet, plucking forth a bottle of Devildom whiskey which he then uncorks with his teeth and takes a burning swig from. The muscles of his shoulders, clad in his regular black shirt, are bunched from sitting in a cruel wooden chair gazing at papers all day. He lingers by the cabinet for a long while, head turned left to stare in a reverie at the creamy Devildom moon looming beyond the glass windows of his office, a psychedelic rock-esque orchestral piece providing the soundtrack for his musings. The hand clasped around the fresh bottle remains limp by his side, the neck tilted at a dangerous axis.

When he turns, there is an expression of resolution in his eyes. He rests the bottle carefully on the farthest edge of the table and kneels by your socked feet. You straighten in surprise, the sudden movement disorienting to your inebriated senses, and stare at the odd image of him there.

"What are you doing?"

He clasps a hand of yours in his and tugs it towards his lips, feathering upon your knuckles a sweet kiss, then presses the back of it to his forehead, where his black diamond might shine if he were to switch to his more primal form. It seems the thought of it occurs to him too for there's a gust of air that buffets you, two massive raven wings unfurling and curling around your lonesome figure, and the mass of his horns emerging to face you at an exposed incline.

He does not look up as he speaks, voice hazy with an encompassing mixture of regret and realization, "I did not say it, perhaps because it was I who lost sight of actuality within the confusing folds of past and future. You're here, you're real, and though you might say that you shall stay forever we both know you lie. We've wasted too much time already and I apologize for how much of that is a fault of mine."

Lucifer raises his head, his eyes just the littlest bit shiny, and slides your palm to rest over his chest, his beating heart a staccato of vulnerability and discomposure.

"Would you go on a date with me, my love?"

It takes a few moments worth of weighing the significance of the scene that has unfolded before your very eyes before the words come bubbling out of your parted lips:

"Yes. Yes, always."

He shifts forward, retracting his wings and horns and nudges his head into your lap. "Do not worry, I'll ask you again tomorrow."

"The answer will remain the same, Lucifer." You entangle your fingers in his silky black strands, bending over to press a kiss to the naked skin of his nape. "I would love to go on a date with you."

He smiles then, partially hidden by the turn of his head. If he circles a hand around your waist to trace a vague symbol against your lower spine and doesn't detangle from the heat of your body for the next fifteen minutes, then it's no one's business but yours alone.

Taglist - @w01f2 @bookoffracturedescapes

#lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me #lucifer x gender neutral reader #lucifer x gn!reader #darkly and divinely written #obey me x reader #lucifer #lucifer fluff #lucifer x you #obey me!

[mageathenaeum-hl]

Let Me Be the One to Save You

Summary: Garreth reflects on a year having past since he'd met the Hero of Hogwarts, and struggles with his ever developing feelings. He goes out foraging one morning, unaware of just how indispensable his existence is about to become for MC.

Rating: T Status: unfinished/draft Word count: 5677

Tags: unnamed MC, POC MC, seemingly unrequited love, pining, jealousy, blood and injuries

Happy Weasley Wednesday! ❤️

Garreth really tried not to think about her. Not about her long, lush curls of ebony hair which bounced when she walked, light and springy like weightless cotton, reaching all the way down to her hips. Not about her chocolate coloured, smooth skin, nor piercing russet eyes that seemed to burn constantly with an intimate fire whenever she would look at him. 

Not about the way the twilight that was her general appearance, the epitome of a night sky absent of stars, paired so well with the Gryffindor reds and goldens she always wore, making her the very image of fiendfyre and coal, of power and vigour. 

He had no right to allow his eyes to wander to her in class, covertly tracing her figure below her robes, or his ears to tune into the pleasant melody of her voice when she would speak with her friends in the common room, muting all other background murmur, and lulling him in an odd, sleepy trance. 

Just because she had helped him once or twice with gathering his ingredients. 

Just because she had never said a word of dismissal of himself, or his ideas, thus opening up an entirely private floodgate of deeply buried insecurities, and baseless hopes for acceptance. 

Just because she was the only one to encourage his potion making, and endeavoured to brainstorm with him on his recipes on occasion, despite not being of much help, even going as far as to consult with some of her Ravenclaw friends, and Professor Sharp and Madam Scribner both for resources. 

A scarce few episodes of receiving a miniscule amount of unassuming kindness could not be all it took for him. Seriously. 

Why the faculty found her more agreeable than himself, even though he always tried to be friendly and amiable, he could guess, but it vexed him regardless of the reasons. It vexed him that she succeeded where he failed, always. Even his aunt Matilda seemed to like her more than him, her own nephew. (Granted, one of many, but still.) 

She was a beast on a broom, both in class and on the Quidditch field. A master duelist too, the likes of which not even Sebastian Sallow had a chance of beating. The pride of Gryffindor House, that one. 

Speaking of Sebastian Sallow. He was often with her, and so was his closest chaperone, Ominis of the infamously prestigious House of Gaunt. Garreth did not know the two well; just as classmates at best. They had barely exchanged a few sentences between themselves over the years. 

Sallow and Gaunt appeared to Garreth sometimes like her footmen, other times like her bodyguards, though he highly doubted she had needed any, probably ever. At yet other times, the three seemed close-knit friends, bonded in spite of the intensive house rivalry and other obvious societal differences within a relationship built on mutually private secrets and inside jokes. 

Others flocked around her too, almost like wasps around a glass of sherbet, hoping for a taste of the sugary drink that was her good favour. There would have been more of them no doubt, had she been pureblood and pale as well, on top of her heroism, charisma, and the fame she had garnered during her first year at Hogwarts (ironically as a fifth year student). Her connections and strength alone lured purists like Duncan Hobhouse and Malfoy to at least take a passing interest, if nothing else then out of sheer curiosity. 

The sweetest flytrap, that one. 

The sheer volume of male company in particular got a little less the closer she had grown to Sallow, however, and this too vexed Garreth, almost equally as much. It irritated him that he had evidently been grouped with the others, even though he was sure he was not on their level. 

He was not as vile and superficial as many of them had been, nor did he behave as such. No, what he felt for her was more on the level of admiration, or adoration, patterned with envy – sentiments the likes of which would fit in a book similar to that of Rumi’s poetry. 

If he allowed himself to write poetry, or if he had even been any good at it. 

So, Garreth tried not to think about her. Not during the school year, and not during the summer. Not to write about her in his diary, and not to strike through any and all paragraphs of his reminiscence on her when it happened to flow out of his half-aware quill. Not to allow daydreams to encroach on his homework and his brewing, or keep him distracted from his reading, or quality time with his friends and family. 

Year Six, Semester One, a week before Halloween 

Hector told him he had been acting strange recently. Leander informed him, somewhat guardedly, that he had been oddly irritable, and asked him what had been wrong that morning during breakfast. Natsai observed him, ever since they had crossed paths in the common room earlier, with an odd sparkle in her dark eyes that seemed full of curiosity she dared not openly voice, rather opting to lie in wait for the perfect opportunity. 

He needed to get away from everyone for a while, Garreth realised with a sigh. 

She was not present at breakfast. Neither was Sallow, he noticed, despite himself. 

But Garreth did not think about it. Did not dwell on it. Not at all. 

With an empty smile and an equally empty excuse of going foraging presented to his friends and brother, he exited the Grand Hall through the closest door which led outside, and summoned his broom as soon as he was under the clear sky. 

Once mounted and off the ground, his lungs quickly filled with fresh autumn air. Scents of wet grass and leaves mixed with those of morning dew and gusts of Skiron as landscapes zipped past and below him. 

He cruised above the South Hogwarts region for a while, in the end deciding to make good of his excuse. Leaning to his dominant left, he let himself hang upside down for a while, eyes closed as he allowed his broom to sail on the air currents, taking him in any direction the wind and his mount agreed on. 

His brew of the day will depend on whatever he will end up harvesting, he supposed. 

It was cold. Not all too unpleasant. Nonetheless, he could have at least brought some gloves with him, his fingers were turning rigid. 

He exhaled. He was sure his breath was a visible steam of white, judging by the subtle wave of warmth hitting his face amid all the cool wind. 

Garreth opened his eyes slowly, at the same time reigning in his broom to fly at a slower pace. The first thing he saw was a vast expanse of murky, navy water under equally as vast a sky, considerably cloudier than what it had been when he had departed. 

He flinched when he felt something brush against the tips of his locks, quickly gathering that his hair had been hovering inches above the highest canopies of a small assortment of deciduous trees – had it caught and matted into the branches, that would have been one very abrupt and painful stop he would have made there. 

There’s one for my diary, he managed a quick half-joke with himself. 

Hastily, Garreth pulled himself up into the correct riding position, further decelerating, and lowering altitude toward an elevated clearance. He dismounted on top of a stone slab reminiscent of a picnic table of sorts. 

“Best be careful,” he noted to himself as he inhaled purposefully deeper and slower, to adjust his breath post flying. He had no idea where he had ended up. 

The landscape behind him, opposite the coastline he had initially seen, was mostly that of thin woodlands, plowable fields and gentle hillsides; man-made stone structures resembling castles could be observed further in the distance. An intense scent of saltwater lingered in his nostrils almost immediately after he had dismounted. 

Somewhere close to the sea, he concluded dumbly after a second, properly refocused on the present at the expense of Hogwarts life and that other, painful topic of human companionship or whatever, as he made his first step off the stone table, and into the picturesque nature about. 

The immediate environment was abound with bushes of Lacewing Flies and bundles of Leaping Toadstool Caps, a wild Dark Mongrel lurking among the trees here and there. (The first one had surprised him, but he was ready for the others with properly erected Protegos and subsequent Stunners.) 

Eventually, rather than go further inland, Garreth descended down a narrow, swirling path toward the beach. A decision he soon found himself almost regretting, when he stopped to consider how much colder it had been to be exposed to the open, merciless coastline wind at the tail of October. 

But fortunately, fate favours the brave. Either them, or ones of equal lack of common sense and presence of luck. And Garreth certainly got lucky, as among the many leeches to be juiced and shells to be collected and ground into fine powders later, he had stumbled on a washed up carcass of an incredibly evasive sea creature – the hippocampus. 

One in relatively good condition too. 

As sorry as he was for the beast in the moment, even taking some time to pay it its due respects and thank the gods for the unexpectedly bountiful autumnal harvest, Garreth soon enough busied himself casting Diffindo to collect on some of the hippocampus skin, flesh, and other useable parts, hurriedly storing them in conjured vials, which he deposited in his robes, the pockets of which he had had a friend magically extend before. (All illegal things Auntie Matilda had warned him were strictly forbidden outside of Hogwarts, but what she did not know could hardly hurt her, he was sure.) 

In his elated busywork, Garreth had completely forgotten both the cold, and all his troubles. He had likewise forgotten to mind his surroundings, right up until the moment someone shouted his name, breaking his focus. 

He lifted his gaze off the hippocampus carcass just in time to notice an enormous dugbog sprinting right at him, its muscley tongue dangling out of its boulder-sized maw, red eyes aglow with part killing instinct, and part sadistic joy upon the prospect of a shortly incoming feast consisting of both himself and the mountain of meat behind him. 

He was given no time to react. He had given himself no such time. 

In the next moment, the dugbog was promptly hit with a purplish white burst of magic from somewhere to Garreth’s left, the force of which sent the foul creature flying into the sea off the coast. Following the remaining gleam of the fired spell with his eyes, Garreth was immediately holding his breath anew, as he perceived the figure of the person who had saved him, and who had also shouted his name before that. 

Fiendfyre and coal. 

“You are mad, Garreth Weasley!” she bellowed as she approached in a sprint. “What on earth do you think you are doing?!” 

He had no words to respond with. His thoughts were a mess in an instant. Emotions, so bloody many of them, were stuck in his throat, threatening to spill over. He was frozen, he was boiling, he wanted to ascend, he wanted to fall into a hole, all at once. 

Did his fate favour him, or did it absolutely loathe him, he was all but sure anymore. He wished for her to have left him to die, and did not, all the same. 

“Why are you all the way out here, in Feldcroft?!” his night without stars demanded to know, exasperated with something Garreth wanted to, but dared not define as worry in her features. 

Here had been Feldcroft, after all, as she had just informed him. The home of the one and only Sebastian Sallow, he happened to know. 

And the two of them both, at the same time, had not been at breakfast that morning. The realisation seemed to sear itself into his nerves, burning white. 

“What’s it to you?” Frayed, weak words came out of Garreth’s mouth, bitter and foreign on his tongue. 

She blinked at him, unsure how to proceed in the moment. “We’re friends?!” was the reply, spoken in shaken confidence, the end of the sentence curving into a question. 

“Yes, well,” Garreth scoffed, licking his lips nervously and looking away from her, (anywhere but at her really,) “not so close friends I’m sure.” 

“Garreth!” she chided offendedly. “Listen to yourself!” 

“If you’re going to lecture me like everyone else, you are very welcome to just leave me alone.” His tone was more frigid than the late October wind blowing between them. And yet, his heart thundered, ablaze, breaking apart with every thrum. “I am grateful to you for your intervention just now, but you truly need not concern yourself with me anymore. Especially go out of your way to do so.” 

“Garreth…!” she sputtered, significantly quieter this time. From the corner of his eye, his gaze being in the moment coined to the sand in which both of their boots had been half-buried, Garreth could perceive her repeatedly clench and release her fist at her hip. 

He liked her – he admitted to himself then, for the first time in over a year he had known her. He liked her very much. But she was Sallow’s. To her, he, Garreth, had been nothing more than a friend. At best. 

“Have I done something?” he heard her whisper. The quiver in her tone lured his eyes upwards. He stopped their advance somewhere at her collarbones, hidden underneath a thick tartan scarf. A desire to gut himself open as painfully as possible overcame him when a portion of his mind, somewhere deeper, took notice of the lovely ways in which her current, tightly fitting travel attire pronounced the lush hourglass shape of her figure. 

He had no right. None at all. 

“If I’ve done something to earn your scorn, I’ll do anything…” Her breathing turned somewhat erratic; she was making long breaks, and inhaling shallowly. She fidgeted with her hands, wand dancing between her palms, and shifted her weight several times over the span of a couple short moments. 

She was panicking. But Garreth found himself only further irritated by it – if she had already secured the handsome and charismatic Sallow and the intelligent and influential Gaunt, what worth could his own friendship possibly hold for her? 

Because he was a Weasley? One of her many prosperous connections? What was the advantage to him over any of the other Wesleys, like his aunt, or his successful older brothers? Was he but a contingency in case her pureblood Slytherin friends ever decided to discard her? 

He knew he was horrible to even think of it. He was being terrible to her, unfair to her friends, whom he did not even know, outside of being casual acquaintances. But his mind was screaming at him to find something to hate about her, anything, no matter how small, to help him not crumble into dust right then and there and never recover himself. 

A shadow of a movement behind her sent all alarms in Garreth instantaneously going off. He was so stupid – utterly idiotic, to throw a tantrum and pout in a place crawling with danger, without first making sure they– she, was safe! 

Before he even knew what he was doing, he grabbed her wrist and pulled hard, throwing her, and himself protectively over her, opposite the water’s edge. 

The dugbog’s thick tongue darted right above their heads as they landed in the sand. A second of hesitation longer and their heads would have been lopped clean off, without a doubt rolling away on the shore by now. The ground rumbled as the beast started running, its cover blown and discarded. 

With a laborious cry of frustration and pent up anger, Garreth’s companion threw him off, straightening herself in an instant, and proceeding to blast the creature with a burst of pure white magic, the likes of which Garreth had never seen before. 

“I’m trying…” she grunted, hitting the creature with another pearl-coloured nonverbal spell, which this time took form of lightning, “...to have…” she levitated a stone from nearby without so much as a word of incantation, and seemingly almost no effort, “...a bloody conversation!!” 

The stone launched the dugbog backward a good two metres or so, flipping it over to its back, and splintering into pebbles in the process. 

Power and vigour. 

Garreth swallowed thickly, unsure if whatever it was that was twittering in his nerves was terror, or adoration his heart had secretly been whispering about in his subconscious for a year. He raised his own wand with an unsteady hand, but determined to aid the girl all of his affection was focused on in her fight, as he immediately took note of her now laboured breathing. 

Without question or hesitation, he steadied her with one arm, leaning her against his side just as she lost balance. A new pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the water right behind the first squirming giant. 

Garreth aimed a Depulso at the flipped dugbog, launching it back into the sea and into the other one. 

“More are coming, and you’re exhausted,” he said, internally hating himself for not having the presence of mind to register it before. “We’re retreating. Accio broom!” 

Grabbing the speeding mount mid-air with his wand hand, he quickly climbed on, scooping his companion up and positioning her securely in front of himself, then promptly taking off, leaving a dusty vortex of sand and gust in his wake – and just as good, as it was sure to disrupt the aim of the blasted creatures below. 

For the most part, his companion was steady before him, but something still seemed off about her; maybe the way her muscles were unnaturally tensing under his arms, or the way she refused to look at him, choosing to instead lock her gaze on the expanse of land directly below them as they darted over the woodlands. 

The headwind carried over the scent of her hair as its many cheerful, soft little locks beat at Garreth’s cheeks – fast-fading rose oil, and plenty of fresh pine, with hints of other flowery fragrances. 

Almost not sweet at all, and certainly nothing close to sherbet. 

Garreth swallowed thickly, gaining altitude and slowing down. He quietly set course for Hogwarts, preparing mentally for a tedious flight, as almost the entirety of it would be upwind, not to mention the extra weight of another person. 

“Land in Feldcroft, please,” his companion requested then, quiet but firm. 

Any protests that infested his mind, Garreth chose to keep to himself. His mouth was pressed in a firm, silenced line as his eyes busied with searching for the outskirts of a village he knew Feldcroft to be. 

It was not too difficult to find. He grounded the broom in the vicinity of the village well, more carefully than he normally would have had he been alone, thereby ignoring the fact that his companion had probably been a better flyer than himself in favour of basic, gentlemanly courtesy. 

And it was a good thing that he did, as apparently, she was presently not feeling like herself. The moment her feet touched the soft soil below, she stumbled to the side. Unprepared, Garreth barely managed to catch her. 

“You’re unwell,” he pointed out. His voice chose not to mask any of the worry that had clutched his heart at the sight, quite against his will. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she breathed, waving her hand dismissively. “I just need some rest.” 

“Let’s get you a bed. Where are you staying? With Sallow?” Garreth’s eyebrows knitted inadvertently as he posed the question. He banished the mental image. 

“Nowhere,” she answered, breathing deeper now, and clutching at Garreth’s hand that had somehow found its way to hers, to offer support. “I’m looking for him, actually.” 

“He’s not home?” Garreth queried, somewhat surprised, but otherwise not all too interested. 

“Nor Hogwarts,” she responded. “Ominis says he hasn’t been to the dorm at all since last night, or any other of the usual places. Sent me a rather panicked Patronus in the middle of the night, asking if Sebastian had been with me.” 

Garreth banished another mental image. 

She grunted then, like one does when they are in pain, and he held her tighter, lowering her to sit on the ground, her back to the stone well. He squatted close to her, still holding her hand. 

“Have you been out all night searching for him?” he asked, disturbed to no small extent. Even if they had been lovers, that would have surely been uncalled for. Sallow also was a skilled enough duelist not to need her protection or anything. He was no child. 

(Unlike himself, clearly, his brain supplied unhelpfully.) 

She chuckled through a frown. “He has a penchant for trouble if left alone, that petulant child,” she joked. 

At least, Garreth sincerely hoped it had been a joke. 

His next question was posed carefully, laced with all the frost of the sudden realisation that washed over him when he finally noticed, being now as close as he was to her, that some of her attire had been a deeper shade of red than the rest. Particularly around the left of her abdomen, and on her sleeves. 

“Are you injured?” 

She hesitated. “A little.” She attempted an expression which only vaguely resembled a reassuring smile. “Ran out of Wiggenweld in the troll den. Got hit by something nasty by a Dark wizard on my way to the shore. But I handled him.” She sighed deeply. “Episkey won’t mend it.” 

“You’ve been running around with an open wound?!” Garreth almost shouted, growing instantly perplexed, and starting to panic. “For how long?” 

She pouted, not responding immediately. It was all the answer he had needed. Too long. 

At that moment, a voice of a middle-aged woman sounded from the side of them: “Excuse me young man, but is everything alright? I saw you two land…” 

“No, it’s not, thank you,” Garreth turned to the woman instantly, purposefully ignoring the look of ‘Do not involve others, I’ll handle it’ his companion was giving him. “Madam, do you have any Wiggenweld and Blood Replenishing Potions? Or somewhere I could brew them right now?” 

“Oh dear,” the woman straightened with evident urgency, the likes of which seemed to infect her immediately through whatever the expression in Garreth’s eyes was. “Come,” she said. “You can use a spare bed in my home. I’ll lend you a cauldron.” She produced a wand from her sleeve, and levitated the girl carefully, with a practised hand. (The latter squeaked shortly in protest at being so rudely lifted without consent.) 

“We mustn’t lose any time with injuries,” the older witch urged as Garreth got up to follow her. “Was it goblins? Or a beast?” 

“She tells me it was a Dark wizard,” Garreth answered honestly, pacing behind the woman as they all too soon reached a small run-down hut which appeared to be her home. Feldcroft sure was small. “Are you a mediwitch, Madam?” 

She tilted her head to the side to grace him with an unexpectedly pleasant smile over her shoulder as she opened the door. “Unfortunately no, but I’ve handled my fair share of wounds and lacerations. This village lost too many people last year, mostly to skirmishes with Ranrok's loyalists.” 

The girl was swiftly lowered to a bed immediately accessible upon entering. The bed itself was tucked under a staircase and facing the hearth. Their host conjured additional blankets and a dressing screen next to the bed, then stoked the sleepy embers with a quick Incendio, cast without even looking directly at the fireplace. 

“We do have some Wiggenweld on hand, but you'll have to brew the Blood Replenishing Potion, young man,” the woman told Garreth in a calm and collected tone. 

“Yes, of course,” he returned, somewhat breathless. 

“Any ingredients you need, just tell me, and myself and the neighbours will make sure to acquire some for you,” the older witch assured. 

She then turned to Garreth's companion, who was in the midst of propping herself up, and off the bed. “Now miss, please cooperate and lie back down this instant. The sooner you are comfortable, the sooner you will also be properly healed.” 

Her features were soft, but her voice was strict. Garreth was quite familiar with the sight; he had often seen both his aunt and mother take up this particular bearing to their posture, especially when they would scold him and his brothers in situations similar to this one, for being careless with their safety or health. 

The other student grumbled, but obeyed, sitting back down. 

Feeling relieved and comfortable in his decision to trust the older witch, Garreth turned to the fire to start on his own task. He grabbed a silver cauldron off the stack in the corner, and filled it with clean water via the Aguamenti spell. “Madam, may I ask where you keep your ingredients?” he began, turning around to find that both women had disappeared on the other side of the dressing screen. 

In the next moment, he heard the sound of ripping fabric, his favourite voice grunting, and the unfamiliar one sucking in air through teeth and tutting. 

Concentrate, Garreth, he scolded himself. “Madam?” 

“Sorry dear,” he heard a muffled reply from the woman. “They’re in the cabinet just behind the kitchen door.” 

The kitchen was barely a few steps away, and the door was barely a door – more so just the frame. Garreth laboured to stay focused as he tried not to listen to the older witch try several healing charms on whatever wounds the girl he fancied had sustained. The more names of spells he heard, the more worried he grew, and all the more rushed his own work became. 

Luckily, the older woman did not need to contact any of her neighbours for ingredients for the Blood Replenishing Potion. Garreth found them all in the cabinet, and carried them over all at once to have at hand by the hearth. He added one by one carefully into the boiling pot, stirring clockwise and counterclockwise as needed, and mending the fire to exactly the right temperatures for each step. 

After a while, he stripped his coat and robe. 

“Breathe deeply,” the woman was whispering, as his favourite’s breaths grew shallow. 

Garreth removed his tie, and undid a couple buttons. He stirred the cauldron. 

“Do not sleep. You must stay awake.” A sound of gentle slaps, skin on skin. “Stay awake.” 

Grunts turned into soft wails. “It’s hot…” she complained. 

“I know darling. I know,” the motherly voice was cooing. “Just a little more, and you can sleep. I promise.” 

You are mad, Garreth Weasley. He repeated the words absently, rhythmically, as he minded the potion. 

It was done, finally. All it needed now was cool. Garreth pulled the hearth hook away from the fire with his wand, and let the contents steam. He wished he could cool the potion artificially, but any such attempt would ruin it immediately. 

He stood for a prolonged second, mustering up the courage. 

“How is she,” he asked aloud, unmoving. 

For a brief while there was only silence, broken by soft wails and short and uneven breaths. Then he heard the older witch exhale heavily through her nose. 

“It seems to be some sort of curse,” she said quietly. “It prevents the wounds from closing. Spellwork is ineffective, and Wiggenweld only mends the skin for a minute or so, after which the lacerations reopen. It doesn't heal.” Another sigh. “I wish we could transfer her to St. Mungo’s, but she’s too weak for either Apparition or Floo already…” 

And then, a quiet: “Garreth…” In her voice. 

“Garreth…” louder, and a painful sob. 

Before he next blinked, his hands folded the dressing screen, and he was by her bedside. 

Gods, the state of her. The overwhelming coppery smell of fresh blood, probably until that point concealed by some obscure barrier the older witch had set up within the confines of the dressing screen and the cramped space below the staircase. All the red – on the sheets, on the conjured bandages, on the floor. Empty Wiggenweld Potion vials everywhere, by the dozen. Her dark hair, usually always light and springy, now soaked and stuck to her skin and the pillow. And her skin… Frozen deep grey, almost. It was riddled with incisions new and old. Faded scars that looked like lightning, stretching from her neck to below her stomach and under the sheets that hid her lower body, down and across her entire torso. 

What on earth had she even been through, all her life? Just how much about her did he have no idea about? 

Her biggest wound was exactly where he had expected, in her left abdomen, tightly wrapped in fresh white cloth, which was already soaking in new scarlets. 

Garreth stifled a sob, a scream, and the urge to vomit, all at once. Instead, he just took in a few forced, ragged breaths from behind his hand pressed over his mouth, and quietly knelt next to her pillow. 

“I’m here,” he was whispering. “I’m here. You’ll be okay. You will.” He swallowed thickly. “I’ll make sure.” 

His trembling hands wrapped around one of hers. She meekly squeezed back. 

“Garreth…” she panted, barely audible. Tears were streaming down the corners of her eyes, in straight lines that passed through her hairline toward her ears. “Sor…ry… I’m–” 

“Shhh…” Garreth soothed her. “Tell me later. You can tell me everything later.” He raised one hand, and carefully brushed some of her locks off her forehead. “I have some things to tell you too, later. So, you have to get through this, alright?” 

She whimpered, as if to protest, but did not attempt to speak anymore. 

The older witch approached Garreth from behind, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Let’s feed her some of your potion, dear,” she said, as composedly as ever, and then approached the bedridden girl to force the contents of the vial she had carried in her hand down the latter’s throat. 

Garreth watched her from his place on the floor by the bed, temporarily rendered unable to do anything. The older witch did not ask him to either, as she went back to the cauldron to refill the vial she had no doubt conjured, and fed the girl another dose. 

“I’m not sure if a double dose is the safest,” she said after a moment, “but you would agree we have little choice right now.” She sighed. “Who knows how much blood she’d lost before you arrived here.” 

For hours, there were no major changes, for better or worse. The girl drifted into a state of unawareness, then finally, to sleep. 

Garreth and the older witch administered the Blood Replenishing Potion every hour – she showed him how to do it to an unconscious person. They monitored her breathing constantly, and changed her bandages whenever they would become unable to contain the blood, vanishing the old ones, and conjuring new ones out of thin air. Bottles and vials too. 

Garreth brewed constantly. Two medium silver cauldrons of Blood Replenishment, and dozens of smaller ones of Wiggenweld. They quickly ran out of ingredients, so the witch eventually went out to speak to neighbours for help. 

Garreth would not be replaced at the hearth. Not even after several other village women arrived to further divide the labour. He needed to make sure the potions were perfect, every brew. Others tended to the patient’s wounds, gave her medicine and water, cleaned, and made food and tea for everyone else. No one witch lingered for long, but they kept coming back, in almost perfectly organised shifts. 

The women gossiped a lot. It seemed to keep them sane through both their overwhelming work and monotonous routine, as well as through the horrors the hamlet had suffered in recent years. One of them recognised Garreth’s companion as The Hero of Hogwarts. From these women, he then learned of the goblin attacks, which had almost stopped completely within the past year since Ranrok’s defeat, although they still happened on occasion as isolated incidents. He was likewise told of the feats his classmates had performed for the local community, and much of Sebastian and Anne Sallow’s childhood. 

By the evening, the little hut had cleared of visitors again. The initial host had also gone out, and Garreth was left alone with the patient, brewing another Blood Replenishing Potion. 

Lost in his thoughts as he processed all of the new information he had heard, he reached for the hearth hook with his bare hand; jumping back the next moment, he toppled over the chair which the village witches had prepared for him to sit in as he managed the potions. 

Grunting, he straightened himself on the floor; and instantly, his ears caught the sound of a soft crack beneath the weight of his right forearm. He sat up onto his shins and turned around, noticing a couple vials of his earlier harvest shattered on the floorboards – they must've spilled from the pockets of his robe, which had been thrown over the now overturned chair. Seashell fragments mixed with what seemed to be a sample of hippocampus inner flesh, probably trapezius muscle. Of course, all now covered in blood of his own. Ruined. 

Garreth sighed, his nerves too tired for him to get upset. He lifted his arm to inspect the damage to his own flesh. Fully prepared to mend the skin with Episkey and not waste any vitally needed potions on himself, he produced a handkerchief from the back pocket of his trousers, using it to remove the debris from his forearm and get a better view of the injury.

Unfinished draft

#hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #my writing #fanfiction #draft #weasley wednesday

[marchsfreakshow]

Dreary Dreams In A Window {James Patrick March x Reader}

Drabble

You're sketching stars and shadows in your notebook, James shares your desires to be free in the world.

Fem!reader/almost a part 2 to Dangerously Yours

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Fog clouded the windows and so forth the outside that Y/N adored. The sky was her favourite thing, how the moon and the stars changed. The colours always blended together perfectly like the pencils she used on the page. Blue and yellow. Pink and orange. Red always dipped in as an after thought.

The wonders of how to seamlessly draw the wonder dusted sky distracted the ghost once again. She could not stare though. A building always hid the beautiful sky, and no windows to show her the bear bones of the moon glowing all the away above her head.

Soon enough the colours appeared on a page, representing a wish that could not be obtained. A wish of simply walking outside the Hotel Cortez and breathing in the air to her undead lungs. The notebook blended shadows of buildings and the people walking past with a hidden sunset no one stopped and noticed. Like the nightlife in somewhere like LA. Thoughts wandered past her mind as strangers in the night went past the hotel of the dead.

Watercolour reds and blues created a small, hidden background. The art was simple, yet it meant so much to her. Other inhabitants stopped caring about the outside world when they were there after a period of time. She kept caring. Being only dead a few months, her desire to go out grew deeper and so much more meaningful. Even talking to someone who was alive made her feel full.

"I too would like to be free."

"You would?"

"I would indeed my dear."

He sat beside her and held her close. The painting was put down and so was the brush, stained with a pink-tinted blue. The outside was nothing special to her, but she didn't realise how much she would miss it if she was dead. Hours ticked by un-noticed. People swayed in and out. It was dull to the woman.

The moon was her wish. To see the moon shining down on her and her lover. The undead ghosts were bound however. Bound to the horrors of the place. He, was proud of his work. She, just wanted her desire. Not even the lust of her partner could keep her from dreaming when she wanted to dream. The distraction in her mind caused her eyes to fall to the window again.

"Do not linger on a twisted world my love."

"I miss the sun..."

“As do I my dear. But we must learn to accept the darkness.”

Eyes met, and a kiss was exchanged. One simple validation and the ghost turned away from the windows telling her of the world outside. And what had become of the world she will never know. She had love in her hands.

No longer has she got her camera in her hands, taking shadowy photos of beautiful people. She has a simple day. The colours are muted. The colours are greying. They are not as lively as they once were. The Cortez was never so lively.

She had slowly forgotten her dream. Colours faded out, into obscurity. But her comfort, her light was the darkest one of all. Finding sweetness in a man who kissed her, and held her. Maybe a new dream of marrying as a ghost would appear, and create a better Hotel.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

#ahs #evan peters #american horror story #james patrick march #ahs hotel #james march #jpm x reader #watercolor #james x you #james march x you #jpm x you #evan peters fluff #x reader fluff #james march x reader #i love james #i love hotel sm #american horror story hotel #Hotel #evan peters x reader

[lesbianlissi]

Our Valentines Secret Santa piece for @transealz ! it was really fun working with the more muted colour pallet for this and I think it turned out lovely! This is definitely the most detailed and involved background we've ever done but it was absolutely worth it for how comfy cozy it feels! We hope you like it and that you had a wonderful Valentines!

#jestersdcassevent2024 #sun fnaf #fnaf eclipse #i like to imagine that this is their headspace #these two are being sappy and gay while Moon is doing patrols or something absdfjb #daycare attendant fnaf #dca sun #fnaf ruin eclipse

[lueurichor]

Cellphone spying! TDA Edition (;TWP)

(I'll be asking this same question to respective other sub-fandoms in the Shadowhunter community so that we have a net-profit of fantastic phone snooping of our own favs)

What are their most used apps, their background photos, their favourite social media, and do they have a pop socket or a special kind of case? etc.! Let's get started!

This ask applies to each TDA cast member of note as well TWP (mainly just to emphasis that KiTy and Dru matter! haha)

❤️‍🔥 Type of Phone: Do they use their phone a lot? What brand is it? What type of model is it? Are they interested in a lot of gadgets or is it very outdated? Does it have a cracked screen? Do they splurge often to buy their phone? Why is it that model?

❤️‍🔥Type of Phone case- Is it utilitarian? Is it branded? Is it funny quirky and often changed up to match certain outfits? Or does it have a string around sometimes just to be useful for i.e. when they take shifts and are on patrol so they have and its very to have a case that wraps around them? What colour is it? Why is it that colour or design?

❤️‍🔥 Most Used Apps: I.e. is it Instagram, Spotify, Mail, Netflix, DC Universe Infinite?

❤️‍🔥 Favourite Random App: i.e. something bizarre like like Hiking trails or Vinted

❤️‍🔥Favourite Social Media App: Is it Instagram? Do they use instagram live a lot? Or reels? Or do they prefer using TikTok for live content?

❤️‍🔥 Favorite App Game: Could it be Candy crush? Or do they not not play games? Is it because of lack of storage?

❤️‍🔥Home & Lock-Screen Photos: What is their wallpaper right now? Do they change it regularly? If so to what? Or is it a generic wallpaper that never changes and it comes wit the phone? Or is it of family members? Maybe a wallpaper affiliated with a sports team or a favourite fandom? Or a fandom ship? Is it a different wallpaper from their home screen?

❤️‍🔥Group Chats (the most frequented): Are they in many different Group Chats? Or they absolutely refusing to be a part of group chats? Or at least a few? If so what, are the group chat's names and who is a part of it? Do they keep the group notifications on? Or muted?

❤️‍🔥 Organization: How do they organise their phone? Is it into sub-folders? How is it organised by theme? How frequently they reach for the app?

❤️‍🔥 Most Called: Who do they call the most? And how often do you say? Or does this person not need to call their person often bc they are often WITH them?

❤️‍🔥Prefers to Call or FaceTime: Video calls or phone calls?

❤️‍🔥 Most Texted: Who do they most text? Their siblings? Their love interest? Their best friend? Who?

❤️‍🔥#1 Emergency Contact: ?

❤️‍🔥Alarms: How many alarms does this person set? Do they use alarms solely for waking up? Or does they set reminders for different tasks or timers for assignments? How much backlog of alarms is there of alarms? Or do they keep only the few they use on the regularly?

❤️‍🔥What news apps do they get their current events?: Do they even check in on current events? Or do they get it from podcasts? Or do they get their news from social media? And if so which?

❤️‍🔥 Social Media Usage: Are they, 'popular' on social media? Thus having a high follower count? What do they tend to post to 'the public'? Are they gearing their instagram or TikTok for a more artistic angle or sharing private important moments to the public? i.e. what they eat, what their favourite show is right now? Do they curate it to a specific aesthetic? Or do they not bother at all? and can go a long time without checking their social media? Do they have a burner account they use to follow all their favourite things and spy on people? Or do they not play that game?

❤️‍🔥 Most Listened to Song (currently): ?

❤️‍🔥Most Listened to Podcast (currently):?

And that's it for now! Thank you thank you for indulging us with your detailed creatives, I hope you will find this as fun as I can anticipate when I go giddy seeing your lovely answers that are at this point as close to canon as real!

xoxo

Regarding the Cellphone-Spying

This is an Answer-Post to a really nice & intriguing question I received from @emmalovesfitzloved.

I really don’t know how freaking long this answer-post will be, so I hope y’all are in for this ride!

We’re starting off with Kit, since he's definitely one of my favorite characters and also one for whom I have lots of personal head canons & theories, which will make this a lot easier. He was also the first one that came to mind!

I also made some categories to please my perfectionistic, organization-obsessed brain. Hopefully, it’ll make everything look less long & intimidating.

The Outside

So, first of all, Kit definitely has an IPhone. I'm thinking maybe 11 or 12 model-wise, and for sure either a blue or silver one (though the light blue one is the most obvious choice for sure)

He would have one of these weird-ass clear cases with the circle thingy, the only reason being that everybody else uses those as well, and he didn't really feel the need to stand out (at least not through his choice of phone case??)

Also, he is one of those people who store absolutely everything in their phone case. Keys, money, hair clips (for Mina), chewing gum, guitar picks (my kit-attempts-to-play-the-guitar-headcanon is very strong), a paper heart (from either Ty or Mina, you decide) and random pieces of garbage

All his wallpapers, not matter if we're talking home- or lock screen, are always pictures of him with his loved ones. Always. Ty basically lives on his lock-screen rent-free at this point.

In terms of accessories, I will definitely stand by the fact that he uses very old, partly damaged wired headphones (instead of listening to his boyfriend!) and is very stubborn about it. He also uses a pop socket, either one of those black-and-white checked ones or one with some sort of comic or movie reference.

The Inside

Apps

He has an average amount of apps, mostly socials and unnecessary games he downloaded because of advertisements but never really uses.

There isn't really an organization to them (like color-coded or something); he just lets them be where they are.

Most used Apps: WhatApp, YouTube and Google (pretty basic)

Personalization

Alarms: He actually only needs like three alarms, the first one being the most annoying sound ever (summit), and the others just in case.

Ringtone: He definitely had a duck-one at some point, simply out of spite and to scare Jace.

People

The people he texts the most are Ty and Dru. I would actually even say that he and Dru have more messages together than he and Ty, for numerous reasons. One of them being the fact that their chats contain many many playful arguments which result in tons of short messages and emoji-spams. Also, Ty isn't really a texter in my mind, and the two of them are around each other the whole time anyway.

In terms of who he calls the most, it's definitely Ty and Tessa, who's also his #1 Emergency Contact. Kit calls Tessa a lot, not only to talk to Mina who does not have a phone, but also just to check in, get advice or just talk for a bit. Him and Ty do both normal calls and video calls, but only if they're away from each other, normally, which doesn't happen too frequently. But when it does, they'll be calling each other a lot!

Group Chats, whew. This is gonna be a long one😅 There is, of course, a family group chat with Jem, Tessa and Kit, that'll have Mina in it later. Just a basic one, I would say, where he always replies (like the good son he is). He's also definitely in a chat with the whole Blackthorn-Family (in which he's mostly active through weird emoji-reactions) and the TWP-Gang (which he keeps muted A LOT, mostly because of Dru). And then there's a really unnecessary Herondale Group Chat, which Jace thinks is very important (it only has him and Kit in it at the moment; they're waiting for eventual children to add😭).

That's it for now, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did! I know I did not cover every single question, there'll be coming more later, hopefully!

#character concept #character design #books #graphic design #my graphics #tid #tmi #tlh #twp #the wicked powers #the mortal instruments #tda #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunters #kit herondale #kitty tda #kit x ty #tsc

[samseaaa]

The Butterfly Effect chapter 3 excerpt - the plaster (band-aid whatever I’m not American)

  It was darker on the way back home. It’d gone full night, and the gloom gave me a new take on the city as the lights illuminated the evening sky. I spaced, staring at the pretty lights while the old pop station played in the background. I was thankful that mine was the only car on the road back to my new home.

  Unfortunately, I didn't account for things on the street that were not cars.

  I was too busy marvelling at the massive neon cat sign for a sushi place that towered over the rooftops of neighbouring buildings to see the figure in dark clothing run out onto the road, even with him frantically waving his arms in the air. And then it all happened so quickly.

  I peeled my eyes from the neon cat (it was just so cute!) when my stomach did that same strange tug, and I finally noticed the human illuminated by my headlights on the road right before me. I screamed, hit the break a smidge too late, and the person landed on the hood with a boyish yelp and a loud, metallic BONK.

  I sat perfectly still in horror, staring as the person slowly stood back up from the bent hood, staggered like a drunk man, and then fell down onto his ass on the tarmac. I couldn't breathe. I heard a faint groan.

  "Shit!" was the first thing I managed to yell in panic as I yanked my seatbelt off and stumbled out of the car. He sat on the road with a dazed look in his eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you - god, are you okay? Are you alive?!"

  "Part of me wishes I weren't," the figure on the ground dryly chuckled.

  "Don't be dead, god, please don't be dead!" I gasped. "I'm too young and scared for jail-!"

  I cut myself off when he held up a hand. I sucked in my lips with wide eyes.

  "A little less shouting, please," the masked figure murmured. He cradled his head with a grimace.

  I knelt beside him, hands nervously fretting and unsure whether to reach out or not, and that was when I noticed his unusual, dark clothing, embossed with green. More prominently - the mask. My eyes widened.

  It was my turn for my ass to fall back onto the tarmac. I had only just gotten my breath back, and it was stolen once more.

  "You're..."

  "Not dead," he said sarcastically. "Yes, well done."

  "You're the Green Ninja," I breathed, ignoring his slight snark due to being too engrossed in the fact that the infamous Green Ninja, the person all of social media was in love with, the quote-un-quote 'leader of the hottest boyband but not only boys and also not a band' was in front of me.

  "The one and only," he answered, still sat in the pooling illumination of my headlights.

  "I just ran into you with my car," I stressed.

  "Oh, I'm aware."

  "I hit the Green Ninja with my car," I whispered in horror as it settled in.

  "That you did," he said tiredly. The Green Ninja pulled his hand away from his head and blinked comically, still seeming to be stunned. My throat was dry when I nervously swallowed.

  "Uh- um-!" I stammered as I launched myself back into my car to grab a box of plasters from the glovebox. I knelt before him once more and held out the worn down cardboard. "Do you need a plaster?"

  "I think-"

  "They have Star Wars characters on them."

  The Green Ninja's brows raised in amused bewilderment - they were a light brown, I noted - before his eyes finally met mine.

  They were green - and I mean, really green. A vibrant green, one that couldn't possibly be a real eye colour. They were ringed by an even darker green and they almost seemed to shift shades and gleam a muted pine in the shadows. They were pretty.

  The Green Ninja seemed to be equally as frozen as he stared at me, and for a brief second I thought that he really hated Star Wars, which was ridiculous, because Stars Wars was a cinematic masterpiece so how could someone ever hate Star Wars let alone Star Wars plasters, but then I realised that I was being silly and-

  God, he was still staring at me.

  I didn't hit him that hard, did I? It was only a little bowl; a mere tap, even, but the dent at the front of the hood told me otherwise. I wilted with shame.

  Two concussions administered in one day. Well done, Y/n. And to the Green Ninja, too! I should have a warning tattooed to my forehead.

  I held out the box again, just to break this weird, silent tangent that had settled over us.

  "Plaster?" I offered. He slowly pulled one out of the old box, still eyeing me oddly.

  "Thanks..."

  "Who'd you get?" I quietly asked before I could stop myself. The Green Ninja pulled open the plaster's packet before showing it to me.

  "Chewbacca."

  "Oh, nice," I said with a stiff nod. I threw the box back into the car and winced at the sound of it hitting the dashboard and falling to the floor. "I like Chewbacca."

  Though the Green Ninja was still staring at me as if I'd grown a second head, he humoured me.

  "I'm more of a Luke Skywalker guy myself."

  Green Ninja likes Luke Skywalker. Figures.

Read the full thing here!

#tbe ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd garmadon #ninjago fanfiction #the butterfly effect #ao3 fanfic #green ninja #does it count as a meet cute if you accidentally run into your future boyfriend with your car? yes. yes it does #damn yn how come you get to have two meet cutes with the SAME GUY

[messydiabolical]

@dandenbo asked me for the art asks: 🎠What is a typical 'workflow' for a piece from idea to finished? It turns out to be a long answer so here's its own post, under the cut to save your dash! How I go from screenshot to painting: (This is not intended to be a 'this is how you do it!' kind of guide. I absolutely don't do an optimal route, this is just how I go about painting and what works for me! I've done a workflow for a screenshot to painting as I do a few different things but this is one I could explain somewhat coherently. My comics tend to be created pretty chaotically lol)

1) I take an ungodly amount of screenshots while playing. Also pester friends for their screenshots or stalk the group discord for interesting shots.

2) Go through all those screenshots cursing why I took so many, looking for those great moments that I want to paint. I’m particularly looking for nice poses/captivating moments, dynamic lighting or interesting expressions, and they don’t need to have all 3 as we can fix some of that in the next step. Here’s the screenshot I chose for my Keahi x Thane piece:

It was a cute, soft moment between them and I liked the highlight at the edge of their profiles. 3) Refine the screenshot. I don’t use anything fancy for this. I game on windows PC, so I open up the screenshot with windows photo editor. I crop the image, play around with saturation, exposure, contrast, just basic editing until it looks tastier. For this piece I wanted it to be hyper colourful and vibrant, leaning towards warmer tones.

4) Decide what I will change, then gather references for those changes. In this case I was fortunate that not a lot needed changing. I knew I wanted to move Thane’s eye position to looking at Keahi rather than the way he is slightly off focus, do a more realistic ear with earrings for Keahi, make Thane a little more smiley and lower his eyelid and give Keahi nicer eyelashes. I keep a whole bunch of art guides and tutorials on my PC so I grabbed the necessary ones and sent them to my ipad ready to have on hand for the sketch stage. I have Thane’s character model in XNApose, so I can check things like his eyelid specifically in that (this is actually for a different project but shows you what I mean)

If I was going to change up the lighting/shading I would also gather references for that. For example sometimes i’ll take screenshots of lighting schemes I love from films/tv shows (think the strong teal and orange scheme in Mad Max or the neons of Blade Runner). Or for precise shadows, I can again use XNApose. I also have a little 3d printed Thane head I can shine a torch at and take photos of to get shadow ideas. For humans there’s lots of reference to be found with online searches, I find pinterest more useful than google for this. For specific expressions or body parts, i’ll just take photos of myself (hand poses, smiling from the right angle etc.) My camera roll is an interesting place. I have drawn drell frills on my neck and on my chest before to see how the lines would fold at certain angles. 5) Setting up a canvas I work in procreate. For a piece like this I try to go pretty big, say 5000 x 4000 pixels, then i’ll crop down later as needed. 300 DPI. As I work, I’ll make duplicates and continue on the copy each fresh session. When i’m finished I make a backup save of the PNG and .procreate files on an SSD. I immediately turn the background colour down to a more muted colour to not burn my retinas. If i’m using a textured background like an oil board i’ll insert it, and any overlays like canvas effects. Set up my layers from the start basically for easy toggling throughout. I try to be good and label things to make life easier, it doesn’t always happen though. I don't wear a digital glove or use paper effect screens but I do have a bottle of screen cleaner and a microfibre cloth handy at all times. 6) Sketch. I’m still very much learning to draw. I tried for a long time to do the classic ‘ball for a head, draw the planes/lines etc. It was a constant struggle and never clicked for me, the ball especially always made things much worse, turning a circle into a 3d image in my head just does not happen. I find it better to just start drawing and work things out as I go (I use procreates reference window to see my screenshot). So I’ll have my sketch in one canvas, and i’ll also have a second canvas with the photo ref on it at the same size, and if I feel like something is really wonky and off i’ll test my lines over the photo to see what’s gone wrong, then go back to the sketch and correct the areas that revealed. Sometimes I’ll use the grid feature if i’m getting stuck.  Here's a few of the sketch stages:

Here I tried out the lines on the photo and noticed that Thane’s frills were a little too far to the left, and Keahi’s eyebrow needed to arch down towards the nose.In the next pass I correct these:

Also, and I know i’m gonna get side eye from some people for this but I really could not care less to be honest. On some pieces i’ll just trace the screenshot. Sometime I just want to get to painting, am not in the mood or mindspace for a learning experience, and this is a hobby. It’s my screenshot, no one is getting ripped off. My latest Javik piece was done this way 🤷‍♂️ 6) Painting. I’ll start by blocking in the background and the portrait flats, usually on separate layers. I try to have an idea of the background colour from the start as this can effect the whole piece overall, but sometimes you just gotta change it as you go so having it on a different layer makes this much easier.

The painting itself I’ll lay down wider areas of colours, then start going in and refining bit by bit, I tend to work on one area at a time, and sometimes I’ll get pretty well rendered on a small area before moving on, other times work on a wider area. It really depends on my mood and what i’m vibing with that day. Like you can see here I’ve done some general messy colouring all over Keahi, but done a lot of refinement on the eyeball:

7) Finshing the piece, uploading and testing: When I’m sick of rendering the painting and don’t think I can add anything more to it without gnawing my own wrist off, it is time to finish up! I make sure I toggle all the layers I want on, add a top signature layer (lol I lie I forget this all the damn time). Then i’ll upload the piece to my google drive and open it up on my big 4k monitor on my PC, and on my phone, and see how it looks (my ipad is a 9.7inch air). I find that once off my ipad, it often looks a little less saturated and contrasting as it does in procreate. So I might go back and change the levels if it’s too big a difference until it looks decent across devices (it’ll never look perfect on them all though, just gotta find that happy medium).

8) Posting online I really don’t have any strict steps for this. I know some people go for optimal posting times, and will make multiple copies of their pieces in different sizes to fit better on different sites (damn you instagram and your need for everything to be square). I… do not do any of this lol. I post when I’m done whatever time or day that is. I do tend to reblog/retweet etc before I go to bed, as I live in the UK and that will at least be getting into evening time in US. I reblog my own stuff a fair bit.

#md answers #art asks

[box-dwelling]

So I can't animate or draw well enough to do this but I do think the world needs a Krisnix No children animatic. So a breakdown/story board plan and idk maybe I'll make it as practice for some of the comic stuff I want to do.

I hope that our few remaining friends give up on trying to save us: Edgeworth and Maya desperately trying to contact Phoenix who is ignoring their calls. Maybe including Edgeworth insisting that Phoenix would never forge evidence to lead into the next line

I hope we come up with a fail safe plot to piss of the dumb few that forgave us: Phoenix forging the ace and then a reference to SL9 dagger to hammer home what that would mean to Edgeworth

I hope the fences we mended: Kristoph being the only vote in favour of him

Fall down beneath their own weight: Kristoph doing the small manipulative smile with the diary page in the background

And I hope we hang on past the last exit: Phoenix meeting Trucy

I hope it's already too late: Kristoph watching Phoenix losing the badge

I hope the junk yard a few block from here some day burns down: the courtroom burning

And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away and I never come back to this town again: Phoenix going to Europe with Edgeworth

In my life: warmer colours come in as we get a little close up of Edgeworth seeing Phoenix and smiling

I hope I lie: warm colours gone Kristophs black psyche locks

And tell everyone you were a good wife: Phoenix telling Edgeworth about Kristoph while smiling. Colours are muted but still brighter than the rest

And I hope you die: back to black. them dining. Kristoph speaking

I hope we both die: same but Phoenix speaking

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow: Kristoph killing Zak (not the best line for but idk what else to put and this works for the general narrative flow)

I hope it bleeds all day long: Phoenix in the detention center

Our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises: trucy, with Apollo entering in the background

We're pretty sure they're all wrong: Phoenix getting decked by Apollo

I hope it stays dark for ever: Kristoph in his cell, wanting to keep what he did in the dark

I hope the worst isn't over: Phoenix post turnabout trump working on Mason

And I hope you blink before I do: spilt screen of Kristoph reading in his cell and Phoenix working on Mason

And I hope I never get sober: Grape juice on the desk beside Phoenix's computer

And I hope when you think of me years down the line: Phoenix in his new suit with the full WAA found family.

you can't find one good thing to say: Athena finds the nail polish bottle, Phoenix scowls while Klavier gets a hug from Apollo and Trucy looks forelorn

And I'd hope that I ever found the strength to walk out you'd stay the hell out of my way: Phoenix getting his badge back

I am drowning, there is no sign of land, You are coming down with me, Hand in unloveable hand, And I hope you die: Kristoph screaming this as he has his breakdown

I hope we both die: Phoenix putting away the hoodie and putting the beanie on the shelf and pouring the grape juice down the sink. Symbolically killing that version of himself

Writing this out I do really want to do it but if anyone else beats me to it, I'd love to see it because I am Bad at Art and while this could be fun practice seeing someone more skilled make this would be awesome too, though I'd appreciate being tagged so I can see it

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #krisnix #kristoph gavin #aa4 #apollo justice spoilers #beanix

[gotchi-blog]

Sumikko Friend Review

This will be a long one. I never really thought that I will own any virtual pet that isn't Tamagotchi. But then I saw Sumikko Friend and I couldn't stop thinking about it for months, until I got a chance to buy it. It was pricey, true, but after having it for a while I can say - it's worth it.

General score: 9/10

Design

First off, I really love the design. The toy is of similar size as a colour-screen Tamagotchi, but it's way lighter. The back is flat - you can rest the device comfortably on a table or other surface, however most of the interactions use the motion sensor, so get ready to hold your new buddy a lot. It ever has little leg-like bumps to avoid scratching the back.

The screen is the same size as Tamagotchi's, but it differs when it comes to the display. Sumikko screen is way softer, with pastel colours. Very nice to look at, especially if you're a fan of pastel aesthetics. However, it's a pain to take a good photo of it - the contrast is too low to make the details of the background as well-visible as in real life. It's a shame. I want people to see how pretty the rooms and animations are! Especially since some of the wallpapers for the rooms are animated, something I've never seen in Tamagotchi.

The brightness settings are alright. The sound is a bit worse - the device is quite loud even at the lowest setting. And it makes a lot of sounds - games, animations, Friend Mode. There is always some squeaking to be done. Fortunately, the sounds are all very pleasant, so it's actually a very nice experience. Just remember to mute it in public. Another trick is to simply cover the speaker at the back with your finger - that's not really possible with Tamagotchi, where the speakers are more hidden.

The device comes with 2 covers - Tokage and Shirokuma. I will elaborate on their functions later on. Here I just want to say that they are so pretty. The designs are simple and very cute. Especially the Shirokuma cover gets me - the little ears are just adorable. The plastic used is solid, matte and smooth, very pleasant to touch.

Finally, there are 2 physical buttons and one touch one, hidden at the top of the device. The left button is used to choose, the right one to confirm, and the touch button on top is the cancel one. The buttons are responsive and nice to touch. The touch one is very sensitive and works very well.

2. Basic idea behind the device

Sumikko Friend is my first non-Tamagotchi virtual pet, so I had to adjust to a different gameplay. The most important difference is that your characters don't evolve nor grow up. You have 2 pets in this model: Tokage (a blue water dragon who pretends to be a lizard) and Shirokuma (a polar bear who moved south due to disliking cold climate.) They don't change - the goal of taking care of them is to become good friends. They don't grow old nor leave. The true fun is playing and interacting with the characters. There are a few levels of friendship and they are increased by playing, feeding and petting Tokage and Shirokuma.

Another important goal is to collect pictures of Sumikko characters, foods and toys. It's done through using traps - there are quite a lot of them. You can either buy them or get them through Outing (another feature I will elaborate on later while talking about the main menu.) This part of the gameplay is cute, though not the most engaging. I often forget about it, but once I remember, I have to admit - the Sumikko illustrations are very cute.

So yeah, your buddies won't die if you mistreat them. They might run away, though. Still, getting them back is not difficult. Generally, Sumikko Friend is not that demanding when it comes to attention it needs.

3. Sumikko Rooms and Basic Care

Here you have an overview of the menu. We'll start with the Sumikko Rooms.

There are 2 of them - Tokage's and Shirokuma's. The characters sit, sleep and play there. You can toggle between them with the left button. The right one opens the care menu. Here you can feed, play the games that use the covers, clean the room, use the shower, check the stats and go Outing. You can also give toys to your pets and change the room wallpaper/furniture.

What's important about feeding is that both characters have their favourite/disliked foods. The favourite foods will fill up the hunger meter faster, while the disliked foods will get rejected and not eaten. You can check which items are liked/disliked by each character online (I highly recommend checking out the English translation of the manual made by Fuzzy N Chic - it includes the foods and care tips too.)

Showering and cleaning the room is needed more often if you play the games a lot. Especially the room dusting is important - if you don't do it often enough, the dust will block your screen and make it impossible to play until you clean it.

Remodel allows you to change the wallpaper and the furniture in the left corner of the screen. Some of the wallpapers are unlocked through increasing the friendship meter, some are obtained through Outing. The furniture can be either bought in the Sumikko Market or obtained through Outing as well. The wallpapers are usually animated - it's a beautiful detail. The moving swing or a tree rustling in the wind are very cute.

The toys unlock new idle animations. They are adorable - I especially love the doll house and knitting ones. While knitting, the characters take a break to stare at you, which feels like a real interaction that happen when your pet realises that you're watching them play. Very sweet.

Outing is a very interesting feature. While using it, the screen shows a map. When you walk around with the Sumikko device in your pocket/backpack, the little pin on the map moves around. In the top left corner, you see the counter of the circles walked around the map. The device actually reacts to shaking, so if you want to, you can simulate taking walks by shaking it (lazy!) In the Outing mode, the characters collect food, toys, furniture and traps for catching Sumikko.

The Friend Games: there are 5 games. They are quite simple and fun. 4 of them use the movement sensor, which makes them more interactive.

Imitating Freeze: the character makes a sequence of dance moves. Your task is to repeat them but tilting the device in the right directions

Look this way: very similar to the first one, but quicker and without the sequence part. The character's face moves in a direction. Your job is to tilt the device in the same direction

Frilly Dancing: this one will make your hand hurt. Shake the poor creature up and down as fast as you can. The goal is to set a new record when it comes to the number of shakes in the given game time

Minikko Hide & Seek: the bean-shaped thing will hide in your room. Your task is to find it. Do it by tilting the device left or right. The ringing sound will become faster once you approach the bean. When you find it, the Sumikko will have a happy face. Touch the top of the cover to end the game

Smile Stop: the only game that doesn't use the motion sensor. Stop the changing Sumikko faces on a happy or neutral one. Do it by touching the top of the cover. Pro tip: the happiest face always comes after the frowned one. Once you see the frown, get ready to click

Finally, the Friend Check option is just to check the stats. It shows you the Friend level and hunger. I was slightly surprised that the stats are the last option. On the other hand, you don't really need to check what's going on - the characters will let you know what's wrong through animations.

The Sumikko wake up at 6 am and fall asleep at 8 pm. Good for students, not that good for lazy cucks who have nothing better to do. Well, the toy is meant for a younger audience, so I can't blame them. Still, I'd prefer if they went to sleep a bit later.

4. Traps

The next option in the main menu is the Sumikko catching. To start, you need some traps. The metal claw is free and unlimited, but the rest you need to either buy at the market or get from Outing. There are a few methods of using the traps - that depends on what's displayed on the screen. Sometimes you need to tilt the device, sometimes click a button. Just pay attention to the animation on the screen.

As I've mentioned in the second segment, the point of this feature is to obtain cute Sumikko illustrations. There isn't anything more to it, but it's still nice.

Sometimes, you will randomly get a chance to draw a special price, usually a food item or another trap. Also, sometimes a wild Sumikko or Minikko appears and you can catch them for free.

5. Settings

Quite self-explanatory. Here you can set the date, time, your birthday, brightness, sound, use the secret passwords and reset the device.

The remarkable thing are the secret codes. They aren't numeric, like in Tamagotchi, but consist of a few shapes that you need to arrange in the correct order. It's hard to find them, especially since the device is quite unknown in western countries, but I found this website that has some:

Also, the Fuzzy N Chic review video on YT includes the code from a gift card that was attacked to some sets. Unfortunately, I didn't get one in mine.

6. Sumikko Market

Here you can buy food, toys, furniture and traps. You'll be here quite often - Tokage and Shirokuma eat a lot. The prices are fine, so don't worry too much about that even if you don't play games too often.

The toy and furniture offer is small, since most of it is obtained through Outing.

7. Game centre

As you can easily guess, here you can find gamest. None of them demands the covers, so they are pretty comfortable and quick. I will quickly go over them here. Each game has 2 modes - easy and hard. The "hard" mode isn't really that hard, but it gives you more Sumikko coins, so usually I go with it. Interesting thing - you can play the games even once the Sumikko are asleep, Good for insomniacs, I suppose.

Shirokuma's Apple Harvest: tilt the device left and right to catch all the apples. Avoid acorns - they hurt Shirokuma and slow it down

Penguin's? Long Distance Run: tilt the device to make Penguin? run and collect stars. Reach the finish line before the time runs out. Avoid the holes - they make you lose instantly

Neko's Sumikko Eats: tilt the device up and down to avoid the bushes and eat the foods. The cat food gives you more energy than onigiri

Tokage's Gem Collecting: my personal favourite. Tilt the device in different directions to control the fat lizard as it collects the gems in the water. Watch out for the jellyfish - they will hurt and slow you down!

Tonkatsu's Happy Dance: fried bits will come from left and right. Once they are in the circle, click left or right button to throw them off

Sumikko Roulette Fortune: click left or right button to stop the roulette. Various characters give you different points. This game is the easiest but gives very few Sumikko coins

8. Library

Here you can see all the pictures/items you've collected. Each has a short description. Not the most interesting if you don't read Japanese, but they are quite adorable.

9. Friend Mode

When you put on one of the covers, your device goes into the Friend mode. The face of the character is displayed on the screen and you can interact with them. This is necessary to keep them happy throughout the day - nothing will replace physical touch. Pet them, rock them to the sides and press on their hands. They love it, especially the petting.

Pro-tip: rocking won't work unless the Sumikko is already happy. Just pet them with gentle stroked on top of the device, giving them breaks to return to regular face. Once they start blushing after some petting, it means they are happy. Then you can rock them too.

In my experience, Shirokuma is more demanding in care than Tokage - they go hungry at the same time but Shirokuma gets upset faster.

10. Conclusion

Generally, I highly recommend getting Sumikko Friend. It's unique and amazing to play with. You just can't get enough of looking at it. You can get some decent offers on eBay (that's where I got mine.) The gameplay is very different from Tamagotchi, but it's a welcome fresh breeze. I absolutely love it and it made me want to take further look into the Sumikko franchise

🌸

#sumikko #sumikko review #sumikko gurashi #sumikko friend #virtual pet #virtual pet review #my collection #toys #cute

[roger-paladino]

twould love a design tutorial

Here's something I threw together while making my Evan design

I'm not sure how much sense this makes, most of my knowledge comes from a game development background, but when I go about making more complicated designs, there's normally 5 or 6 different silhouettes before I settle on one that has the right shape language. Here, it's a little easier, since all I'm looking to do is give the typical 'cowboy' vibe while also keeping the way the actor looks (which admittedly I'm not the best at).

I didn't touch on this in the photo, but when picking colours I try to keep to less than 5 indiviual tones for clothing/hair, and for cowboy designs in particular I like to keep it muted with blacks and browns being the staples.

Overall, references are your best friend, and making those little shape and colour sketches of what your design might look like, helps a lot with just double checking that what your idea is works from afar as well as making sure they look unique when next to other designs.

#.asks #Anonymous #the emh boys will get their own post when I finish jeff and vins designs but for now here's this #tutorial #emh #scribbles #cowboy au

[starscatteredsky]

Howdy! Ive been looking for some chewelry for a while, but theres a lot out there, haha. Its pretty hard to find good ones. Do you have any that you would recommend?

Thanks a bunch!

-🧬🐭

so we ourself only have one piece of chewlery, but have been looking around for more for a while!! here’s some suggestions!

now i wasn’t sure if you wanted just some plain ones, or themed ones, so i did a bit of both, but if you want me to find specific themed ones, send in another ask!! happy to help!

these adorable mushroom necklaces! we ourselves haven’t ordered from this shop before, but have been planning to for a while. this one is not recommended for people who like to bite/chew hard! gentle nomming only /silly

2. these sweet ghost charms!! reviews claim them to be a bit tougher, so might be more durable! it’s always good to be careful with smaller charms though!

3. these plainer pendants are lovely, i have one rather similar! they’re quite durable, and highly recommended for aggressive/hard biters

4. these thin, gem shaped ones are a nicer shape for some people!! don’t bite them too hard, the thinner shape can be more brittle! (though reviews claim they soften overtime!)

5. these star chewy necklaces are tough, durable, and good for first time chewelry! they come in plenty of colours, and are plain enough to go with most outfits!

6. these leaf ones come in plenty of plain/muted colours, and are adorable! they look subtle enough to look like normal jewelry, and are reviewed to be durable for hard chewers

hope these are a good place to start! good luck!

-👾

Requests open!!!

[image description:

a DNI banner with the background being the promotional image for Little Nightmares 2. The writing reads:

"DNI: radqueers, proshippers, radfems/TERFs, antikin/antitherian, homophobic/ ableist/ anti ACAB/ transphobic/ rasist/ antisemitic/ xenophobic/ antitheist/ anti athiest/ bigoted in any fashion, NSFW/sh/ed/cringe centered blog, fakeclaimer

Before you interact: We are pro mspec gays/lesbians, anti endo/tulpa "systems", enjoy MCYT/DSMP, pro self diagnoses with extensive research, multiple alters are punks/ anarchists"

end description]

#mod 👾 #chewlery #autism #stims #good stims #otherhearted #otherkin community #alterhuman community #fictionkin #alterbeing #otherfolk #nonhuman #otherkinity #otherkin #alterhuman

[reindeer-writer]

Sun and Moon DCA hospital AU version A

some ideas for a sun and moon hospital AU, taken from my main blog, posting here since it kinda counts ig

They share an office, but have seperate consultation rooms

they split kids based on personality, Sun takes the outgoing ones, Moon gets the shy ones

the waiting room has lots of toys in a toy box, a little playhouse to sit in and one of those wire things where you move the beads from one end to the other, plenty to keep the kids entertained while they wait

speaking of, the waiting room is reminiscent of a daycare, painted with bright colours, the aforementioned toys and even a selection of kids shows playing on a tv on the wall (it's usually muted, so Mr. Bean is on there a lot)

Sun:

his consultation room is bright and inviting, decorated with little stickers of the sun, rainbows, cute pictures of happy kids seeing doctors etc.

he always greets the kids with excitement and enthusiasm, tries to get them excited for whatever it is they're in for, after all, doctors aren't anything to be scared of, and he wants them to know that

when talking with the kid's guardian he's pretty calm and standard, though still very enthusiastic, he loves his job

makes the visits fun, makes parts of the checkup a little game that the kid can participate in, like trying to see how long they can say "aaaa" before they need to breathe

gives scared kids lollipops before the checkups to build trust, they tend to be more willing to listen after that and sometimes even get enthusiastic about it too

gives kids who behave throughout the entire thing cool stickers and lollipops (if they didn't already get them at the start)

Moon:

his consultation room is a lot more calming, painted a soothing shade of blue with posters up that either show anatomy of the human body or provide interesting facts about it.

classical music playing in the background

he speaks to the kids very formally, treating them as equals and not lesser because of their age

will always give a little mint candy at the start of the consultation to the kid so they have something to suck on and do while they wait for Moon to finish speaking with their guardian

he has tiny desk toys like a newton's cradle for the kids to play with while they wait

talks to the child while he helps them, usually about what's happening at school or their friends, what they like to do, etc.

will demonstrate the scarier equipment on himself so the kid sees it's ok

let's them keep a small, cheap, medical themed toy for them to play with when they get home, like something you'd get from McDonalds

now where do we fall into all of this? Well

You:

You're a young, inexperienced doctor who's just been hired at the same place as Sun and Moon

you work with adults, but realise that you prefer kids and start speaking to Sun and Moon about working with them

they don't mind having an extra set of hands, so after a bit of discussion with the suits, you end up as a nurse of sorts

you're great with the kids, attentive, patient, all the things that make a caring doctor

seeing this, the boys start falling for you, but in an attempt to not mix work with personal life, ignore it

it grows worse however, as you continue to prove your diligence and care for others they just fall harder

#sun #sun fnaf #sundrop sb #sundrop fnaf #moon #moon fnaf #moon sb #moondrop sb #sun sb #sun x reader #moon x reader #dca #fnaf dca #dca fandom #dca x reader #security breach sundrop #moondrop fnaf #security breach moondrop