#tyliocellier

[cemeterysgirl]

ㅤㅤit felt strange, being in @tyliocellier's home without him there to taunt, tease, or fuck. but, like usual, sasha found comfort in the strange, making herself as at home as a girl who'd never really had one could. she'd quote-unquote borrowed another of his shirts, but it looked so much like the other from their first night together, that she figured his wardrobe must look like spongebob's.

ㅤㅤthe bed was comfortable. minimalistic, but comfortable. it took what felt like hours for her to finally crawl out from under the covers, but she checked the time on her phone, and it was barely 10 a.m., which only made her grumble. how much time would she have to pass alone like this? his room was plain, and the walls were bare, and she couldn't tell if he'd lived here long or not. she didn't really understand the concept of renting, having spent the last decade or so bouncing between motels with her possessions in a box, so she figured it was outright his because it wasn't a motel room.

ㅤㅤfingers trailed along the walls as she wandered between rooms. every observation she made all had one constant: tylio. it made her... miss him? she was sitting in his quaint little kitchen, legs swinging off the countertop when she reached for her phone — squinting at the phone number he'd written down for her upon request.

[ sasha ] : do u hav no seriel? [ sasha ] : u hav th cubords of a granpa [ sasha ] : wiv 0 teef

ㅤㅤshe wanted to mock him for having no croissants, either. some playful comment questioning the authenticity behind his accent, or whether it'd all been a ploy to lure her in. but she tried to spell the word croissant eight times, and each time it somehow looked wronger than the last, which only made her cheeks burn with anger. was there tears in her eyes? she put the phone down for a second, taking a deep, shaky breath before picking it back up.

[ sasha ] : can i cum cee u 4 diner? [ sasha ] : il meat u sumwer [ sasha ] : im bord

ㅤㅤas if she didn't already have his work address sworn to memory. but whilst she could probably say it out loud to a cab driver, she couldn't spell it for the life of her.

[liraspins]

S U R P R I S E @tyliocellier

The knock she left a few seconds ago echoed in Lira's brain as if asking 'was this a good odea?'. "Oh, shush..." she murmured at herself. The cold fingers were wrapped around the hanger of a bag. An eye roll as she thought about the fact that she brought...a gift. The cigarette, tucked into the corner of her mouth, hobbled along. She and Pontus lingered out of view, pressed against the wall just beyond the peephole’s range. Old instinct. No reason to let him see her until she decided it was time. A part of her wasn’t sure he’d even open the door if he knew who it was. He...Lira was back at his place. Why? Her chest twisted at the thought, though the alcohol made it easier to pretend it didn’t. Why was she here? Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe it was regret, though she’d rather blame the whiskey. It must have been clear to Lira that she wouldn't be the most anticipated guest. Still. Somehow her feet had brought her here and the alcohol in her blood made her stand here and wait until- The door cracked open, a sound Lira knew upsettingly well. A sound that made her giddy and nervous at the same time. Before she could think any better of it, she used her surprise factor and let Pontus run around the corner before going the same. In a half jump, half stumble she propelled around and...presented herself. Hands in the air, an innocent grin on her face. "Surprise!!! I'm back!" she exclaimed in a gesture that screamed 'Tadaaa'. Voice bright enough to cover everything else—the six months, the silence, the guilt clawing behind her smile.

[innxcentfaces]

cont with @tyliocellier from: Here

Looking at him with sidelong, even more so now that she was incapacitated, the fact that he didn't seem eager to attack her seemed to be helping him some, though. Whimpering a little as her attempt to scurry backwards as he got closer only brought on a fresh sting of pain, his gestures making her pausing almost mid motion. Was he trying to communicate with her?

She could understand so many of the animal calls around her, when the crows were angry or the deer startled, but this man's noises were so foreign and yet so utterly transfixing. Eyes flicking from him to her wound and then back again as her brain started to slot together the pieces. Was he concerned about her?

Reaching down for a piece of the faded old fabric that made up her clothing, though most of it now seemed to be decorative patches for the hand cured hides, she tore it free and then started to dig in a leather pouch tied to a rope on her waist and hidden beneath the expanse of her cloak, and then a wooden flask, and then a small wooden bowl with a notch that made it able to be hung as well.

In the bowl she poured some of the dried herbs from the first bag, and then a little water from the flask and mixed it all together. Pouring a small bit more of the water to clean the would away, she immediately smeared it full with the poultice, tying the fabric as tightly around it and finally letting out the small unstoppable sound of discomfort that came with it. The pain was bad now and she could feel the colour draining from her face.

Breathing a little harder from the effort it took to bite back her pain at the application, and hands a little shakier as she drank back the rest of the water, She held out the flask to him in question. Giving it a shake she flipped it over to show it was empty and gave it a little shake again.

Water?

[cursedvessels]

closed for @tyliocellier

Convincing Anna to take a vacation was not exactly an easy feat for a whole variety of reasons. She didn't like to take breaks. She liked her work and it kept her sane to be home where she knew she could keep an eye on her brother if he had an episode or a difficult week. She gives him his space, of course, but it doesn't stop the worry.

Needless to say, when Tylio suggested they take a trip together--as friends--it had gotten shot down immediately and vehemently. It'd taken quite a bit of coaxing as well as the agreement to bring her brother along with them for her to finally cave. If her brother was there, too, then nothing could really happen between them again. That was helpful in two ways, then--the second being her ability to keep an eye on Finn.

The fear of how Tylio might view her brother or react to some of his more obvious quirks was strong, but she'd gotten to know Tylio enough that her trust in him was stronger. He wasn't exactly judgemental and he struck her as a bit of a loner himself anyway.

Now, they were finishing up tossing their things into the back of a mini van to head out on this road trip and Anna was finding herself finally getting a little excited for the whole thing. To be out in nature for a whole week--to just enjoy it all--sounded like heaven.

"OK, I think that's everything," she says to Tylio as she rounds the corner and flashes a bit of a nervous smile, though the excitement in her eyes shines much brighter than her fears. Besides, she was generally pretty good about preparing for any potential disaster--maps, first aid kit, medications, all-natural aides to just about anything. She was prepared. Still, she can't help but squint up at the clouds starting to haze over the nice sunshine.

"Looks like it might rain..." she comments off-hand. "Do you think it'll be OK?"

[septembaer]

Color & light study sketch of @liraspins and @tyliocellier to get some practice since I woke up with a fever and have nothing else to do. Pose based on this reference I found on pinterest

Lira & Tylio

[hlfmoonshine]

(@tyliocellier didn't ask for a starter but i miss these two too much. feel free to ignore if you aren't interested.)

"you didn't call me." gillian knew it was insane to show up on his doorstep, she knew it was out of character for her to chase anyone, but there was something about tylio, and specifically the fact that he never called her that seemed to stick with her, like an itch she couldn't quite reach. "we had this great night at the bar, we danced, we drank and you never even called me. you know how to hurt a girl really deep, tylio."

[cemeterysgirl]

closed starter for @tyliocellier.

ㅤㅤfor shin sang-mi, life was repetitive. every day was filled with practice, and every night was finished off with a performance. the only thing that actively changed was her audience, except for a set number of attendees that must have memberships to attend, or millions to spend. except one, though. she didn't know his name. she didn't know anything beyond his usual seat number: 27A. the twenty-seventh seat on the first row, which placed him centre-stage. he stood out for a plethora of reasons. primarily, sasha was attracted to him, both for his looks and the silent loyalty he'd shown her. but he also stood out because he was much younger than the majority of the crowd. probably around her age, if she had to guess. she looked for him at the start of every show.

ㅤㅤand tonight's had been no different. she'd completed her routine to a tee, up until the last part: the lap dance. she used to pick members of the audience at random, but that'd stopped a few years back after an uncomfortable encounter on stage, so her management would always pick for her, and it usually wound up being someone from lighting. it was routine. she'd fittingly pick a cherry off a tray hands-free, with the stem dangling between pearly whites, all whilst pretending to pick at random. but tonight, she changed her mind, motivated by a combination of curiosity, lust, and boredom. three traits she was practically known for.

ㅤㅤ" well, now, i must go... " she started, a faux pout gracing her beautiful features as she cupped her face, theatrics receiving a loud booooo from the crowd, as usual. " but not without one last dance... not without a kiss goodnight froooom... " she was illuminated by the spotlight when she pulled the fruit from between her teeth, following the spiel whilst lowering towards the floor in a squat; ample bosom heaving over the neckline of her tightened corset, with the peacock-like feathers of her costume flaunting out behind her. there was a hefty tension spreading across the room, with all the men hoping to be called out, whilst the few wives in attendance hoped it wasn't their husbands. " 27A. " she all but cooed, pointing at him and redirecting the second spotlight towards where her number one fan sat. " come— don't be shy... " she invited him up with a sensual smile, and the rest of the crowd ate it up —some hooting, some hollering, all encouraging him up— whilst she slowly stood, heels clicking and hips swaying as she circled the empty chair whilst dragging her index finger along the darkened wood.

[cemeterysgirl]

ㅤㅤit was a cool but dry october afternoon, and the leaves on the trees had turned orange and crispy under lady sang-mi's feet. the courtyard was quiet at this time of day, and sang-mi had grown rather fond of the castle she'd once called pretentious. it was grand in its beauty, with beautiful, sharp edges and dramatic, seemingly random arches decorating the walls. it'd been uglier when she first saw it in the summer, but the early morning dew and fog that engulfed the grounds made her feel calm, even when she imagined one of the crosses at the top of the turrets falling off and crushing the prince.

ㅤㅤbefore her adoption, lady sang-mi's childhood had been rife with trauma. whilst lord won was only ten years her elder, he'd shown her off as if she was his own, with the motive of lining his pockets by reaping the benefits of her beauty. and what better way than to have her marry into royalty? it'll work, too, if sang-mi paid more attention to the lesson material in her etiquette tutoring, than she did her tutor. but monsieur cellier was so handsome, and her notebook was filled with tiny sketches of him rather than notes, because he was just so distractingly attractive. even more so than the prince she was trying to impress with both brains and beauty. the latter was already taken care of. sang-mi had a beauty like no other in the land. whilst the other princesses-in-waiting had pimples and acne, sang-mi had smooth skin and beauty marks, one under her left eye and one just above the same corner of her mouth. she was arrogant enough to know he'd pick her, if the contest was based on appearance alone. but if the girls were to be judged on intelligence alone, sang-mi would probably finish last.

ㅤㅤthe hem of her skirt was wet from the dew, even though she could've taken the paved path that led the entire way to the little room that'd been reserved as a study space for the foreseeable future. " monsieur cellier, " she called with a sing-song voice, brazenly bumping the door open with her hip, entering the room backwards with the handle of her little black picnic basket hanging at her elbow. " je t'ai apporté tes aliments préférés… des raisins, des croissants, du pain blanc français… " she started to list her offerings in french, just because she wanted to impress him whilst proving she had paid some attention. " even brioche. i cannot learn on an empty stomach, monsieur. " s'il te plaît, mange-moi… " she misspoke, correcting herself with a grin in english. " eat with me. "

closed starter for @tyliocellier.