Fusrodah

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About Fusrodah

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    Rookie/Broken-Hearted
  1. Steal My Sunshine

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 8px; width: 250px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } My mind was thugged, all laced and bugged, all twisted, wrong and beat; a comfortable three feet deep He'd walked the streets in a daze, motivated by the image of Emma in his head and the feeling in his chest. He wanted to see her, to feel her body against his, to see her reaction when she found out he was alive. She's going to be so pissed. He'd chuckled at the thought, pocketing a man's wallet at the hot dog stand and using the cash to pay for a taxi ride towards their home. She apparently lived in the same space. The petunias growing on the garden-front were much better grown now, years having passed since the last time he'd actually seen them. He knocked on the door with baited breath as the morning light began it's slow death, the sky turning crimson as he waited on her doorstep. Minutes sped by as he was greeted by silence, and only then did he notice the lack of a vehicle. "Who's there?" Julian turned at the sound, watching as a short lady with a walking stick looked at him closely behind wire-framed glasses. He looked back at her, before finding his words. "I'm a... friend of Emma's. Is she out?" he asked, turning to the older woman. "Emmy? Oh she's gone to live in Olympia. Took the little one with her. I can give you the address if you tell me who you are, son." the woman said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose before walking towards what was apparently her house, her keys in her hand. Little one? Julian felt his heart thud just that bit faster. Emma had mentioned she'd been pregnant, hadn't she? It was his son, his flesh and blood, and if he visited the fair he'd be able to see the both of them again. He wanted to run to the airport, his legs feeling like they'd be able to carry him for miles. He had to keep his grin in check as he got the address, explaining that he was an 'old friend'. - The taxi had dropped him off outside the fair-grounds, and Julian had picked his way through the milling crowd, his eyes desperately scanning the throng for the woman he loved. It'd taken a couple days of hitch-hiking, but he'd managed to make his way over to Cali. On the way, he'd had little to eat, whatever he managed to swindle off of pickpocketing used to get his next meal. Now, he didn't feel any of the hunger as his eyes moved across the scores of people flocking the place. A neighbour had told him they'd gone to the fair, and so he'd come here looking for them. Every girl looked like her, and he had to walk up close to each one to make sure he hadn't missed her. The hour passed in a flash as Julian say down on a wooden bench. He hadn't eaten anything since his return, and his legs were protesting any more walking. Maybe she's left? He was just about to head back to her place when he saw her. She looked angelic, a cherubic glow on her face as the gas lamps lit her up from above. He felt himself get to his feet despite himself, his mouth open in shock and awe. She looked exactly like she had in his dream, her blonde hair curled at the ends, her lipstick just the right amount to make her lips irresistible. He wanted to go up to her, to hold her in his arms and say, 'I'm home.' His legs carried him forth a few steps, but stopped abruptly. Behind her was a man, a little boy on his shoulders. He felt his heart thud away in his chest as she played with the child. A cold stone sank to the pit of his stomach when she reached up, kissing the man. The world felt cold, the lights fever-bright. He didn't feel hungry anymore as the blood drained from his face, a cold sweat breaking at the back of his neck. He stood there like a marble figure as she took the man's hand, walking into the throng of people, disappearing into the crowd. MONTY @Mariah.
  2. 3AM [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault... "Get your hot dogs!" He didn't feel anything. He was like a tumbleweed rolling along a desert plain, gathering dirt and grit as it made it's way aimlessly, going where the wind dictated it go. The last image in his head was her face, exultant in her pleasure, saying his name: Julian. That was his name, wasn't it? He wasn't even sure anymore. He wasn't sure of anything. All he knew was he was alive, and breathing, again, and that the alien feeling of the warm sun on his smooth skin was a wholly different feeling than what it used to be, like taking a car out after it's been in the shed for a decade. "Get your hot dogs!" He blinked, looking at his reflection in the storefront. The man was on the sidewalk, his hot dog stand garnering a crowd of students and workers alike. The smell of mustard and buns wafted through the air and to his nose, his mouth involuntarily salivating. But he had more pressing issues at the moment than worrying about the food, the most pressing of which being that he was alive. He was alive. He couldn't explain how he knew that he'd died. It was just one of those things that you knew, the inherent feeling of having lost a part of yourself and it being shoved back into you. The reflection in the storefront looked exactly like him. His hair looked longer, and the clothes he wore were a size too large. The barest hint of stubble showed on his usually clean face, and he felt like he hadn't eaten in days. Behind the shop's glass pane stood lines and lines of televisions, and in each one he could see the date, year 2000. What's going on? He needed answers, and Julian knew full well where he'd get them best. He needed to see his girlfriend. He needed to see Em. FIN. MONTY @Mariah.
  3. 3AM [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault... There is nothing but them. As she rides away at him like there's no tomorrow, Julian feels the world dissolve into nothingness, the universe a microcosm reduced to their bodies completely in one with each other as they made love. He could feel the sweat shining on his body as his fingers groped her for purchase, helping her along her way as she plunged herself onto him over and over. He turned his head up to kiss her, wet hair matting against his face as his lips met hers. It was filled with passion, a hunger ravenous as he bit her lip. He tasted blood. It was morbidly exhilarating, her taste mixed with the metallic tang. He wanted more. When she shifted her position, he felt her insides twist with her. He groaned outwardly, feeling her almost squeeze his throbbing length dry. When she started moving again, he knew the end was already in sight. He moved his hands to her front, squeezing her breasts, thumb caressing the points of her nipples as she rode him. He pinched them as she leaned on his shoulder. He kissed her neck, planting hickeys on her soft skin as he lost himself in the moment. The sounds of their passion filled the room. Nothing but moans and the slapping of skin on skin permeated the quiet of the setting. Even the rain seemed muted, a bystander watching them almost voyeuristically as they went at it. The thought was enough to get him across the edge. His vision blacked as he finished inside her. He held her down, his fingers firm on her thighs as he came. His load shot deep into her, spurt after spurt filling her up. "Fuck..." he managed to breathe, head thrown back as his vision swam behind closed eyelids. "I—I love you too, Em." he managed, before his world went black. MONTY @Mariah.
  4. 3AM [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault... It felt like a reverie. Was it a dream? He'd closed his eyes as she worked at him so diligently, losing himself to the sensation. But then he felt the heat on his face, the light dancing behind closed eyelids. He opened them to see flames blowing in front of him, a small font of black liquid in the middle as sirens sang their songs. Julian's eyes widened, but they were gone as soon as they had come, replaced with the room again. He looked down to see her head bobbing up and down. Pleasure came in waves, but just as he was about to finish she rose. He felt cheated, the irrational irritation overtaking his senses for a moment as she moved between his legs. The irritation faded as she swung her legs over his though, and he knew what she wanted. His fingers touched her in between her legs, slipping between her folds. She was so warm, slick sounds escaping her mound as his fingers traveled along it's length, rubbing her clit. "Looks like someone's all wet," he smirked, his trademark grin ever-present as he reached up, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking. He his tongue wriggled against the tip, as a finger entered her, exploring her deep. But he wanted to venture deeper. He lifted her up with one hand, using the other to align himself to her. He was throbbing and he needed it now. There was no more want, just need. MONTY @Mariah.
  5. 3AM [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault... Julian's eyes closed, but he didn't want them to. He wanted to look at her, to see every inch of her as she took him inside her mouth. But it was an impossible feat. He sighed, his heart racing in his chest as Emma's head bobbed up and down his length. It felt otherworldly, the way she rolled her tongue around his tip, the way she lapped up whatever he leaked the instant he did. It was old, but new, something he'd experienced so many times before, yet still felt so fresh. It seemed as though he was about to flat line, when he then finds his hand curling around her hair instinctively. He opened his eyes, pulling her off of his length. Julian glistened in the pale light, the mixture of their juices gleaming. Trails of spit bridged them for a few seconds before Emma was set free, his hand in her hair turning her face upwards to look at him, into his eyes. How he'd missed her. It wasn't possible to put into words, as it all felt like yesterday. But she'd changed, and he knew he had too. Now it just felt like coming back to a home you'd moved out of years ago—the furniture and the wall hangings had changed, but the foundation was the same, and the structure still carried their stories within them. He lowered himself into the armchair just behind him, his fingers still in her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. His member throbbed painfully as he pulled her back towards him. He guided her mouth back onto his tip and let her work her magic, only this time his hands were there to lead her way. Up and down he directed her on his thick meat. Her mouth was so wet and so warm at the same time, and he found himself drumming against the back of her throat consistently; the sounds of her gagging and trying her best to service him was almost as good as the view. "Mmmm that's right baby..." he managed to moan between breaths, his other hand tucked behind his head, "Keep going, Emma." MONTY @Mariah.
  6. 3AM [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault... She walked across the room like a spectre, awe and wonder on her face. The neon billboard shone on bright on the opposite end of the street, lighting up her face; her body... The rain moved down the windows like curtains trying to block the light out and hide her modesty. They were fighting a losing battle, however. Julian could see all of her, feel all of her as she stepped close, pressing herself against him. She's so warm. He knew for sure she was real now, not some spectre or a trick of the light. Her heartbeat thudded against his pectoral, racing dangerously as she planted a kiss on his neck, then chest. A low sound escaped him unbidden, somewhere between a moan and a grunt. One of his hands rested on the gentle curve of her hip, the other moving up to the line of her jaw, turning her up to look at him. He looked into her eyes, losing himself in their depths. He was home. "Your heart's beating so fast..." his words are barely a whisper, but they seemed to fill the room, hanging in the air long after they'd left his lips. His hand moved from her jaw to the back of her head, fingers entering her hair. The want was overpowering. It felt like he was drowning and starving for water at the same time, and she was only thing that could quench his thirst. The distance between them lessened to zero as his lips met hers, locking them in a deep kiss. Her lips felt soft on his, her breath warm as her body picked up the water from his. The next few moments were a blur. His body moved on it's own, all the subtle gentleness of the kiss disappearing like smoke in the wind as he crashed into her. Tongue rolled over tongue, skin over skin as his towel fell away. He didn't care as he pushed her against the wall. He wanted her; he showed her as much as he pinned her, his fingertips painting an invisible painting on her body. They roamed, wanting to cover every inch, hungry in their pursuit. He didn't open his eyes. He didn't dare open them and have it all come crashing down. This was her, they were here, and it was all perfect. MONTY @Mariah. .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; }
  7. 3AM [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault... The shower was warm where the rain had been cold. It felt like a cool layer was leaving his body, dripping down onto the tiled floor and into the drain to join the rest of the rainwater. Steam misted the air as he closed his eyes to the feeling. His hair matted against his face, and he flicked it back with his long fingers. A smile creased his lips. Showers were definitely his favorite, especially after a long, hard day at work. Rain followed closely on it's tail, and both would only mean euphoria. The storm raged outside, while the shower ambled over him here. But something felt... off. The smell of soap wasn't familiar, a more citric flavor lingering in the steamy air. The room also felt smaller, and he opened his eyes to see there wasn't a bath tub here. He'd probably started taking a shower at a friend's place. It was the only logical explanation, right? A voice cut through the thought stream, barely perceptible over the shower but audible all the same. It was unmistakable, the tone and the timbre of that voice. Emma. He switched off the shower, rubbing the water from his eyes. "I'll be right out!" he exclaims. There was no way she'd be able to find the remote from instructions, and he knew this required a more personal touch. I'll be right back in the shower once I get her the remote. He wrapped himself in a towel, not bothering to dry himself off as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. The lights were off, but the glow from a nearby motel sign filtered in through the windows, illuminating enough of her slender form. She's put on weight. But it was good weight in all the right places, her body having curves that were previously angles. She was kneeling in front of the TV as Julian walked out towards her, the beads of water on his chiseled body shimmering in the low light. MONTY @Mariah. .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; }
  8. TRIGGER WARNING: DRUG ABUSE/DRUG ADDICTION/OVERDOSE .ama::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 5px; } .ama::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background-color: #fff; } .ama::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background-color: #e59277; } .ama { background-color: #fff; border: #eee solid 1px; padding: 10px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; line-height: 100%; font-size: 10px; color: #000; } .amatitle { padding: 20px; background-color: #e59277; font-family: calibri; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 3px; color: #fff; } .amafields1 { padding: 10px; background-color: #e59277; font-family: calibri; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #fff; } .amafields2 { padding: 10px; background-color: #e59277; font-family: calibri; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #fff; margin-top: 1px; } Julian Giovanni De Angelo   face claim: James Franco canon name: Dionysus associations: Wine, vegetation, fertility, ritual madness, wild frenzy, revelry, ecstasy, pleasure, theater alias: Jules age / apparent age: 23 zodiac: Scorpio date of birth: 10/26/1976 place of birth: Seattle, Washington, USA pronouns: He, Him, His sexuality: Heterosexual moral alignment: Chaotic Evil character traits: Treacherous, Callous, Manipulative, Impulsive, vulnerable, Envious, Selfish, Heedless, Creative, Artistic, Ostentatious world views: Questions authority and lives by his own set of moral principles. His attitude toward the world is that life and our existence are meaningless and inconsequential, so may as well do whatever you want for whatever time you have on earth. His faith in, and regard for, humanity is nonexistent, with the exception of his son and the mother to his son, despite regular, heated conflict with the latter and the emotional/mental abuse he commits toward her. physical attributes: Full, pouty lips; very prominent cheekbones, with gaunt cheeks; a incredibly sharp jawline and pointed chin; messy, dark brown natural hair, sometimes dyed a bold color dependent on his mood; rich, warm brown eyes, beneath a prominent brow bone; hooded eyelids; 5’11”; lean/slim, but physically fit, with noticeably defined/chiseled abs, chest, back and arms; broad, wide shoulders. musical taste: Big beat, electronica, trip hop; The Prodigy, The Chemical Brothers, Fatboy Slim, Moby, The Crystal Method, Basement Jaxx, Cut La Roc, Groove Armada, Daft Punk, Propellerheads aesthetic: Manic panic hair dye, skate brand t-shirts/hoodies/jackets (Thrasher, Alien Workshop, Toy Machine, Spitfire, No Fear), graphic t-shirts (sometimes layered over a long sleeve shirt), white t-shirts, chain wallets, Vans, Adidas, sneakers, Oakley sunglasses, baggy jeans/Dickies/cargo pants/shorts, camouflage pants, netted or mesh skin tight shirts, choker necklaces/chains with a lock pendant, multiple rings, tongue piercing, dark colors. lifestyle: With skateboarding and snowboarding being his favorite pastimes (he impressively excels at both, as well as soccer, and often shows off), he’s extremely consumed by the skateboard culture and a carefree, dangerous lifestyle. His nights and early mornings are often spent at raves, partaking in very heavy drug use/abuse, while the daytime hours are spent trying to nurse the after effects, possibly by doubling down or smoking some marijuana. Definitively, his lifestyle is defined by reckless abandon. occupation: Drug Dealer / Entrepreneur class: Upper Class genealogy: Lucas De Angelo, Son, Age 4 Matteo De Angelo, Father Victoria De Angelo, Mother BIOGRAPHY: Julian Giovanni De Angelo; the first two names were not that special at the time of his birth, but the De Angelo name carried a lot more weight. His father a feared and revered mafia boss, his mother a dutiful home maker, Julian wasn't lost for a pampered upbringing. He was treated with respect—way too much respect for a child—and a single tear to his eye could mean literal deaths. His father loved only three things: his mafia, Julian and his wife, in that order. He made sure to show Julian that as he showered him with gifts and affection. Julian got caught in his first felony at the age of fourteen. He'd got into a fight with a couple older boys and had stabbed one of them with a pocketknife, leading the boy then to undergo surgery, and the family to press charges. The case never reached juvenile court, however, his father having settled it outside of trial. But that was the first time Julian had felt his father's wrath. He'd been caned and admonished, shunned into a room with no lights or windows for twenty four hours, but that punishment wouldn’t do. With his actions, Julian had forced his father—a mafia leader—to apologize to some lowly blue collar worker. There was nothing Julian could do to make his father forget the humiliation and shame. The event had changed Julian exponentially, and he started to slip into heavy drug use. He popped pills, hired hookers and often went on benders that lasted weeks. He went from skateboarding to soccer to partying, and he repeated the process ‘till it numbed him completely. He lost the ability to feel anything, taking life as a mere slideshow of black and white images that he had to sit through until the reel ended. This was until he met her. It was completely by chance, the way Emma came into his life. He'd been out to get some Cola when he'd spotted her in the same store. He hadn't believed in any of the "love at first sight" nonsense, but it was tough to argue this time. She was stunningly beautiful, absolutely peerless in that regard, but beyond that she carried herself with a grace that he'd seldom seen with anyone before, especially so young. He spoke to her, struck up a conversation, and soon enough they started dating. He'd been addicted to the pills and the drink, but for once something else seemed to take center-stage; a new drug and addiction. The world found just a bit of its lost color again. Julian was almost entirely off drugs when Emma told him she was pregnant, him then being 17 years of age, turning 18, while she was 15. He'd been shocked, and it wasn't the bad kind. Now he knew two other lives depended on him. He dropped the drink too, trying to start his own skateboarding equipment and apparel business while getting through college. He'd grown distant from his family, but he still owned some assets which continued his steady stream of money flowing in. He did, however, want to stand on his own two legs. And it seemed things were taking a turn for the good, right until they weren't. A couple of his friends had come home from overseas, and he'd been out to celebrate. He refused to drink, but convinced otherwise, he began downing shots. Round after round after round, he was getting loaded. Then, they moved onto sterner stuff. It'd been so long since he last took to the needle, and it'd seem this time would be his last. A miscalculation due to an addled brain led him to OD, dying there in that private club with a needle in his arm. That'd be his end—killed by his own vice... That was until he mysteriously rose back to life, once again. It's now been approximately four years since that day and he's returned for his love. And things might never be the same. PLATONIC: Julian is not one for friendships. He's been hurt in the past far too much for him to trust easy, but if he does trust someone, it's absolute. He's an "all-in or nothing" type of guy. ANTAGONISTIC: Upon his return, he finds himself an adversary to anyone who refuses to fall in line with his own selfish wishes and desire for pleasure. In particular, you can expect him to develop pure hate and loathing for who he feels has taken what belongs to him, thus taking away what gave him happiness. Furthermore, he doesn’t take kindly at all to betrayal, either, so pity to whoever he feels has turned their back on him, for he can be extremely vengeful and merciless. ROMANTIC: If it happens it happens. He isn't actively looking, having other motivations and choosing to live his second chance at life with the absolute freedom to do whatever he pleases. But at the same time, he isn't going to shun it either. If it develops naturally, then he's all in. For now, however, he still has his eyes and his reanimated beating heart locked to one woman only: Emma De Angelo. OTHER: Hit me up for anything else, I’m very open minded and willing to collaborate. no triggers, 23, awst (UTC+8), discord (fusrodah#7822)