#I know we usually focus on. y'know

[justawrites]

Y'know what. I have about 10 more days before school starts again, so...

I wanna see people's Cult of the Lamb OCs. Not necessarily your Lambs and Narinders and Bishops and Goats and Yellow Cats (though I'd love to see them too <3) but like, completely-original OCs. Whether it's game sprites or drawings or just a little ramble about them, I wanna see and hear about them, and I'd love to be able to doodle and/or draw them. A little challenge for myself, but also a chance to let everyone spotlight their OCs a bit.

So, if you have OCs, here's your free space to talk about them- I'd love to hear all about them.

[woodle-isbae]

dom tutor armin x reader PLEASE

Feeding yall b4 I dissappear again

Its really hard to understand math , why exactly are there so many formulas and even more numbers . You couldn't even focus during tutoring , not because he was boring but because of the way he spoke , the little crack his voice has when he calls for your attention. And the way he looks. Your Tutor was some Nerd you begged to help you in the library , and how could he say no to the way your doe eyes looked up at him and the little pout? he'd be the dumbest man alive to reject that offer.

''C'mon y/n. You need to focus , we have a test coming up.''

He sighed , setting down his pen and rubbing the bridge of his nose , he was tired having stayed later than usual. He wanted to help you as best as he could and decided if he stayed a bit longer he could help you study even more.

''It just doesn't make sense Minie.''

The nickname you gave him lingered on your tongue , eyebrows knit together while you pouted , getting frustrated from not being able to understand. He gave you an almost sorry look , knowing that you were almost ready to cry from the confusion.

''okay...look , why don't you get us something to drink , a water or a coffee..?''

You nodded and left your room , wanting to do anything that wasn't Math , you contemplated what to get and what he would prefer. opting out for a coffee , even if it would take some time to make you still did it, needing the boost of energy.

after what felt like forever you got the two warm drinks in hand and waltzed back into your room , The blond sitting on your bed while he scrolled on his phone , lifting his head up and thanking you for the drink. You guys took a small break , discussing about things besides why you guys are here , swinging side so side in your chair until Armin said it was time to begin again.

''I...wanna try to teach you differently''

he patted the space next to him on the bed , grabbing the textbook while you sat down. He told you to read outloud the formulas and definitions , doing as told until your words got caught in your throat , his lips grazing over your next and hand pressed on your thigh .

''Continue.''

You stuttered at some words , his lips leaving soft kisses of your shoulder and neck , his hand trailing more and more up your thigh until his thumb grazed your clothed cunt.

''Armin , wait-''

''shh..Your doing good.''

You couldn't even tell what you were saying anymore , the task that had you occupied long gone from your mind , only focusing on the way his fingers dipped into your panties and played with your clit.

''Open your legs more for me.''

And that you did , the book you held tossed somewhere onto your bed , hands gripping onto his blond locs. His other hand occupied , cupping your breast and pinching at your nipple.

He stopped what he was doing , tugging at your shirt for you to take it off along with your skirt , you swiftly removed the articles of clothing and sat infront of him with your legs slightly parted.

"Relax f'me..yeah.?"

You nodded , pupils blown out while you watched him move closer to you , placing a soft kiss on your nipple while his fingers continued their frantic movements

"Y'know Y/n...I couldn't resist saying no that day...the way you looked up at me , I could've bust one out right then and there."

He breathed out into your neck , sucking soft marks as he sped up his pace. His movements making a sudden halt , he shifted down lower and lower until face to face with your core.

"Thank you for serving me."

He said before diving in face first , mouth working on your clit while his fingers pumped into you. The overwhelming sensation catching you off guard.

Your legs locked around his head , hips jerking into and away from his face , a flash of white taking over your sight as your senses basically went numb.

"That's it...breath in 'n out for me."

He placed soft kisses on your clit and up your thighs , making his way up your torso until his head rested on your chest.

"Do you think that was enough studying for today?"

You smirked , hands planted on each side of his face.

"I mean..I do have a Biology test soon aswell.."

"Say less"

[angel5ofp0rn]

idk, just a thought 😋

141 x Drunk!Reader / Jealous!Ghost x Drunk!Reader

TW: implied drunk sex

(idk what’s up with me and making the reader drunk all the time ???)

also idk i just like the idea of Soap being a perv and Ghost being a fuckin weirdo 🫣

You didn’t expect the guys to actually give a shit about your birthday... Maybe it was just the excuse to drink.

Still, you couldn't deny that you loved seeing the squad out of uniform and all dressed up for the night.

You even put on a little skirt and low-cut top, curled your hair and wore makeup for the first time in months.

Price bought you your first drink just as a 'happy birthday, kiddo', but it didn't stop there.

Soap got you a few shots and Gaz let you sip from his drinks throughout the night.

You were feeling pretty buzzed by the time you convinced some of the guys to move to the dance floor.

Ghost watched quietly from his spot at the bar across the room. You expected as much.

The two of you have been keeping your distance; you were basically still strangers, apart from the random glances you give each other during training.

Ghost thought of at least saying happy birthday to you, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

He wasn’t exactly an affectionate man. Wasn’t great at showing his feelings.

Feelings? The fuck was he thinking?

You’re just nice to look at, that’s all.

It was strange seeing you with your hair curled and your skin showing, almost like a real woman. He had a nagging thought that if the guys weren’t around, he would've gone over to you.

You and Soap are on the dance floor, you tipsy and swaying while he holds your waist, keeping you steady as he mumbled something close to your ear.

"I don't think so." You muse, looking up at Soap. He had asked if Price was watching the two of you, knowing Price has a tendency to act like a father towards you especially. "Why?"

Soap took a moment before he spoke again, the alcohol clearly getting to him. His words were becoming more and more slurred throughout the night, although he still had that Scottish accent mixed it that kept him sounding charming... though almost unintelligible.

"Y'know yer beautiful, aye? An' th' lads, they've been eyein' ya for the whole night. 'Course ol' Price, he's been' tryin' to keep us from gettin' yer attention… But even Ghost! Ghost thinks yer fuckin’ gorgeous.”

"Ghost thinks that?" You tried to focus your eyes on Soap’s, fighting the alcohol.

Soap leaned in even close now, his breath smelling like strong liquor. He even placed his hand on the small of your back, right above your skirt as he spoke again.

"Oh, aye. But we all do… I do."

You giggled at that. Soap's arm wrapped tightly around your waist now, pulling you chest to chest and murmuring more drunken ramblings into your ear.

You quickly forgot what Soap mentioned about Ghost.

But Ghost was still watching.

He watched the way Soap leaned in to whisper in your ear, the cocky smirk on his face, how dangerously close his hand was to your ass.

He watched you drape your arms around Soap’s neck, eyelids heavy. He watched how your eyes wouldn’t focus on Soap’s eyes; they kept darting down to his lips.

Ghost didn’t watch to watch anymore.

“The steamin’ hell’r you doin’, LT!” Soap calls after Ghost as the masked man grabs your arm and drags you off.

“Let me go!” You groan, trying to pull away from his grip. When that didn’t work, you tried to stomp his toes.

No use, he had those fucking steel toes on as usual. After more ignored pleas, you resorted into trying to drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes; like an unruly toddler.

Ghost didn’t miss a beat. He easily scooped you up and slung you over his shoulder as he head towards the bar’s exit.

The second he set you back to your feet outside on the pavement you tried to shove him.

Stupid idea, really. Fucker didn’t budge.

“What is your problem?” You glare at him.

“My problem?” Ghost’s voice was low. “You were about to let MacTavish feel you up in front of everyone in there.”

“Who cares if Soap and I have a bit of fun? What, are you jealous or something?” You groan.

“Of course I am!”

You froze. Your eyes locked in with his.

“You’re… jealous?” You ask again, softer this time.

You can see the subtle movement of Ghost’s jaw clenching beneath his balaclava.

“You’re drunk.” Ghost states. “You should get back to base and sleep it off.”

He’s right, of course. But you don’t listen.

You don’t fully realize you’re doing it, but you reach your hand up and touch his face.

Well, his mask.

Ghost’s breath hitches, and he thinks of swatting your hand away but he doesn’t. He lets your cup his face. Caress his jaw. Rub your thumb over the fabric covering his lips.

He even lets you pull him in closer, lets you get just an inch away from touching noses before he speaks again.

“I cant kiss you.”

You finally come back to earth, your drunken mind suddenly sobering.

“Oh.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both silent. Both unsure of what happens now.

“Guess I’ll just go-”

“I want to.” Ghost speaks again. “I would like to.”

“Okay…”

“But I can’t.” His huge arms cross as he looks down at up. For something so genuine, he’s saying it as if it’s a threat.

“Right…” You nod slowly, your drunken brain trying its best to gauge what’s happening. “So..?”

“I can’t have you flirting with MacTavish.” He practically growls. “He doesn’t want more than a quick fuck.”

You frown at this, eyebrows lowering into a scowl.

“So you won’t kiss me, but I can’t flirt with anyone else?”

“Yes.” Ghost acts as if this was common sense.

“‘s’not fair.” You roll your eyes. “You can’t do that t’me.”

“Well, I am.”

“Are not.” You challenge. You push past him and re-enter the bar, leaving him outside and alone.

“Bonnie!” Soap calls you over as soon as he sees you.

He’s sat at a table with a bunch of other men that you don’t recognize. He pats his thigh, inviting you to have a sit on his lap.

Ghost’s warning still fresh in your head makes you hesitate.

But who is he to tell you who you can and can’t flirt with? He doesn’t even talk to you.

You try not to stumble as you make your way towards Soap, accepting the invite to sit on his lap. His arm instantly wraps around your waist, holding you in place.

“Didn’t know you had a barracks bunny.” One of the men snickers as he looks you over.

You frown, looking to Soap, waiting for him to correct them. To explain that you’re actually on the squad- no, the best sniper on the squad. An asset to the team, really.

Instead, Soap laughs along with the rest of them, giving your thigh a squeeze. “Nah, nah. ’m keepin’ this bunny all to m’self.”

You had to have heard him wrong, right? Maybe it was the alcohol affecting your hearing.

Before you could defend yourself, you felt Soap’s hand sliding up your thigh, slipping under your skirt.

Your face is burning. The guys all laugh. You feel sick.

Flirting and kissing is one thing… Soap treating you like a sex toy is another.

“Soap, stop.” You mumble, pushing his hand away.

Soap gives you a wink. He thinks you’re playing some sort of game here. His hand starts to creep up your bare thigh again. His lips press against your neck.

“I said stop!” You stand up and shove him by his chest, admittedly harder than you intended to.

Soap landed on his back on the dirty bar floor, his face a mix of pissed off and confused.

Price was by your side immediately, pulling you away from the table as Gaz helped Soap to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Price, I just-“

“I’ve got you a cab outside. Get your ass back to base and sleep it off.” Price barked.

Sober you could handle commands and threats like they were nothing.

Drunk you started tearing up immediately.

Price mumbled something that sounded like ‘for fuck’s sake, kid’ as you turned and walked outside.

Ghost was still outside, balaclava lifted so he could smoke a cigarette.

You didn’t notice him as you slid into the back seat of the cab, but he saw you.

Then he saw Soap and Price exiting the bar one your cab took off.

He watched calmly, smoking as normal while Price stood with his foot on the side of Soap’s head/face, Soap’s cheek pressed against the pavement.

He couldn’t hear what they were fighting about and frankly he didn’t care. He wondered if any of it had been the cause of your teary eyes.

•••

You lift your face off of your pillow and squint at the caller ID as your phone rang.

You’d only been back in your room for about an hour at this point and you’ve been trying to battle the spins.

You swipe to answer the call, smushing your face back into the pillow and closing your eyes again.

“H’llo?”

“Make it back to base okay, kiddo?” Price’s stern, gruff voice came through the speaker

“Mhm.” You mumble your response.

“Good. Sorry about MacTavish; drunken Scot can’t handle his alcohol…” Price sighs. “He’ll be dealt with in the morning.”

“s’okay.” You nod even though he can’t see it.

“You sure you’re alright then?”

“Mhm…”

Price exhaled a deep breath. “Get some shut eye. I'll be seeing you at 0530 sharp for PT."

"Yes sir. Love you."

You didn't fully realize that you told Price that you love him as if you were speaking to your dad.

Price was quiet for a second before his tone subtly shifted to sounding more gentle. "Love you too, kid. I'll see you at five-thirty."

You end the call and force yourself to sit up despite your still tipsy state. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep with everything on your mind.

Well… with Ghost on your mind.

You call him next, not really expecting him to answer at all. He kind of doesn’t; there’s no voice on the other end, but you could tell he was there.

“Ghost?”

“Yeah.”

“So- Why… why didn’t you kiss me?” You stand up off of the bed and pace your room. More like stumble around your room.

“Can’t.”

“But why?” You groan. “Is it because of Price?”

“We work together.”

“So?” You find a hoodie and pull it on over your going out clothes. “That didn’t stop Soap.”

Silence.

“And I… I really wanted you to, y’know? And… I think I said ‘love you’ to Price. Y’think he’ll be mad at me?” You start kicking your heels off.

“…you told Price that you love him?”

You kind of giggle at that, hearing it back. “No, I didn’t tell him I love him. I just said ‘love you’ to him.”

You think you hear Ghost snort at that. “Are we done here?”

“Well, no…”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to open your door.”

Ghost doesn’t speak. You look around the hall to make sure none of the guys would see you.

“Please?”

The call ends. Ghost slowly opens his door and peers at you from the small open space.

You look up at him, messy hair and mascara smudged under your eyes. Your hoodie covered most of your outfit and you were barefoot.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Can I come in?” You ignore his comment.

Ghost hesitates but he does step aside and let you into his room.

It was so dark in his room that you almost didn’t notice that he was maskless. Too bad you couldn’t see him better.

You didn’t really know what you planned on doing now that you were in his room… You honestly didn’t think he’d let you get this far.

Ghost’s hand touched your face. His thumb wiped under your eyes, attempting to fix your makeup.

The gesture was considerate though you knew he was just making the smudge bigger.

“I can’t kiss you.” Ghost repeated his words from earlier, but this time it was softer. More gentle.

You shook your head.

“We don’t have to kiss.”

[narislvr]

── simp!abby anderson drabble ₊˚ෆ

,, cws? none. pure fluff ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ── 1.04k words.

,, abby x fem!reader ♡ / college au

ᝰ.ᐟ loosely inspired by this series' depiction of abby. | pt. II

she's so hollie col & taylor swift coded, fight me

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who was absolutely lovestruck for the pretty girl she'd bumped into on the way to their campus' library.

She had barely exchanged more than a few mumbled words with you, but she already knew she wanted to see you again.

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who did in fact see you a few days later behind the counter of a less populated coffee shop in the westend part of campus. you looked so pretty she thought, and if it weren't for her usual reserved expression she was sure you'd see the hearts forming in her eyes.

"hello? you alright there?" you'd ask, brow raised as you tried to get the woman's attention from behind the counter.

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who snaps out of her enamored daze only to meet the confused look on your face with a sheepish smile.

she should say something smooth. anything.

"you sell coffee here, right...?"

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who is awkward as hell and can't flirt to save her life as she's lived her life avoiding any chance of romance despite being a secret romantic.

your eye twitches at the question, but you smile at her anyways because.. well, just because.

"yeah, we do. what can j get for you?"

your number

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who makes it a routine to come in the three days of the week when she knew you'd be there. by the third week of her showing up, you couldn't help the small smile that settled on your lips as you handed the blond her usual coffee, your hand lingering a second longer as the feeling of her calloused fingers brushing yours sent a fuzzy feeling through your body.

she'd thank you with a small smile of her own before sitting in the table closest to the exit with a good view of you in the prep area and taking slow sips of her drink as she'd take subtle glances of you, admiring the way you hum ever so quietly to yourself as you worked.

after a good hour of subtle glances and pretending to focus on whatever text book she brought in that day, she'd leave, but not before leaving a tip folded neatly in the napkin as you went to wipe down her table.

'have a great day and thank you for the coffee. it was delicious as usual :)'

you can't help but shake your head, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

it was a simple black coffee, nothing special.

and yet she was always so greatful.

huh.

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who after a month, slowly begins to talk to you, less awkward than her initial approach once you started initiating conversation and light banter.

God, if you looked pretty from afar, having you close to her, talking to her, made every last bit of her resolve melt. especially when you looked at her, chin resting on your palm, with those bright curious eyes of yours.

"you actually owned horses? That's so cool! I've always wanted to learn how to ride, but I've never had the chance to."

she'd chuckle, feeling her heart flutter as she flashes you a charming smile.

"I could always teach you, y'know?"

God knows she hoped you weren't kidding when you giggled and accepted her offer.

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who, now comfortable enough to, would tease you whenever she'd catch you stealing glances at her arms whenever she came in from her morning run.

"I can feel you staring, hon," she'd quip, catching you off guard and stiffling a laugh as you quickly denied it.

she made sure to wear more tank tops and compression shirts, stretching out her arms every now and then, knowing well she'd have your full attention then.

"you're always welcome to touch, you know."

"I am not doing that, abbs." you'd respond, heart racing as you rejected, what was to you, the offer of a life time.

"suit yourself," she'd snicker, earning a playful shove.

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who after four months of playful visits to your job, finally asks you out, hands sweating as she leans against the counter of the almost empty coffee shop.

to her surprise, you agree, and she can't help the wide grin that spreads on her face as you accept.

"we could go out for coffee or something. I know of a good coffee shop around here we could try out. The barista is pretty cute too."

"I'm not going on a date to my work place, Abby." you'd say, eyes narrowed as she only laughs at your response.

"was just a thought. how about dinner next week? there's a place about thirty minutes from here I'm sure you'd like."

"sounds like a plan."

₊˚ෆ simp!abby who picked you up the following week, a charming smile on her face as she held open the passenger seat door to her pick up truck, complimenting you with awe in her voice before driving off.

soft music could be heard playing in the background as the two of you spoke of anything and everything.

you were so caught up in the conversation, you didn't notice where you two had parked until the rumble of the trucks engine finally shut off.

it was then that you noticed the scenery before you, a nice grassy area overlooking the mountain campus of the school you two went too.

"found this place while on a run a month back, it's pretty, huh?"

you could only hum in response, still in awe as you got down and followed abby to the bed of her truck where the two of you would eat takeout from a place she knew you liked.

amidst the pretty scenery, she could only find herself looking at one thing.

that being you.

It was cliché, but from what she had learned about you during the time she had spent getting to know you through small talk and banter, she knew it was something you liked and that's what mattered.

and what wouldn't she give to continue seeing the look of pure adoration on your face as your hand found hers, pinkie locking with hers as you two look at eachother in silence as the nature's ambience and soft music from her radio play in the background.

[thebearer]

Thoughts on Reader being in her second trimester of pregnancy riding Lip

oh fuckkkk yes. bc we all know he's def got a big thing for pregnancy sex lol. minors dni 18+

"This feel ok?" Lip grunts, chin tucked to his chest, hands on your ass helping guide you up and down.

"Obviously." You snap, eyes rolling in irritation. Lip was slowly starting to learn that with your pregnancy came a rage of hormones. Some bad, some... good. This was good.

Even with your irritation, the insatiable horniness that also accompanied it (and was usually the cause of it) was a plus to Lip. You were desperately horny, waves of just wanton need washing over you all hours of the day. From the moment you woke up to the moment he would finally fuck you to sleep, it felt like you were always on Lip. Not that he minded.

"Y'know I can-I can be on top." Lip grunted, the feeling of your slick lips grinding against the hair of his pelvis, wetting it when you sat fully on his cock.

"I don't want you to be on top." You huffed, hips grinding against him. "If I wanted you on top, you'd be on top."

Lip grinned, a lopsided smirk watching you rise and fall again, one hand flat on his chest steadying yourself- maybe holding him down- while you rode him.

"You look pretty like this. You know that?" Lip rasped, blue eyes shining and watching you carefully. The swell of your stomach, the way your boobs bounced with every rise and fall of your hips. The way your head would tilt back, baring your neck to him. He wanted to flip you over, pound you out and bite at your neck until you were covered in mouth shaped bruises. He would have, if it wasn't for baby Gallagher.

"Thanks." You grunted, an edge to your tone that told him you were annoyed. "Can you just... Can you just be quiet please? I need to focus."

Lip snorted lightly, squeezing the fat of your ass, making you clench around him. "Focus?" He teased, your narrowed glare making him relent. "Fine. Do what you gotta do, baby."

"Thank you." You mutter, hips rocking until you found the spot you'd been looking for. Bent backwards, hands on Lip's thighs, digging into the skin there while you half heartedly rode him. A little uncomfortable with the angle, but he helped you, hips rising to meet yours until you were gushing all over him, falling back onto the mattress.

Lip smirked, crawling over your body, erection still rubbing against your hip. "You gonna be mad if I finish? Too sensitive."

"Yeah." You muttered, light and airy, eyes glazed with your orgasm. "You can put it in my ass though." You said it so sweetly, Lip thought he might have hallucinated the words. "Not too sensitive there."

Lip grinned, wide and toothy, snorting at you lightly. You were somethin' fuckin' else. He'd told you that a million times. It was why he got with you, married you, was having a baby with you. He loved you. Loved that you were exciting, fun, different; most importantly, he loved that you were his.

[inazumatrash]

Some concept art for a discarted comic idea.

But I ended up adapting the script to a fanfic! (It's a little rough and I'm new to writing, so any feedback is welcome) Omori spoilers ahead.

The events of this story happens sometime after Mari's funeral.

///

It's sunset time with blue and soft pink tints all over the urban scenery. Basil is finishing tying up the velcro of his sandals to go out. Grabbing the door knob, he turns his head back to leave one final message before leaving.

"I'll be back soon, grandma!"

There's a chilling breeze outside and the streets are eerily empty. But Basil prefer this way. His head is full of thoughts, he needs the space. Approaching his destination, he stops looking at the sidewalk and lifts his head. He finally spot a living soul a bit ahead of him.

It's Kel. He's in front of Sunny's house. Kel seems to hesitate for a while, but gathers courage and knocks on the door. He vigorously give three consecutive knocks.

"That's a bit too much." Basil observes. Good old Kel.

It doesn't take too long for the door to open, and Sunny's mom appears. She has a dull look in her eyes. She's tired.

"Oh, it's you, Kelsey…" She looks over his shoulder. "and Basil."

Kel also looks back. Basil is suddenly there, a few steps of distance.

"What can I do for you two?"

"Uh." Kel is a little surprised with Basil's presence, but figured out he came for the same reason as him. "Can I- Can we talk to Sunny?"

"Hm…" She looks away before answering. "He's a little more unresponsive than usual..."

Basil feels a pinch of pain in his stomach.

"I wasn't able to talk to him since… the funeral." Kel fidgets a little. "I want to let him know he can count on us!"

Sunny's mom mouth corner's change to a soft, yet warm smile.

"Well, I'm sure he would appreciate to hear from you two, at least."

She steps back, opening the door welcoming the boys in. Kel perks up and calls Basil with a hand gesture. They enter the house.

"He's at their- at his room."

At the living room, the boys can see the glass door that leads to the backyard, highlighted with a menacing reddish orange light of the last sunrays. Kel immediatelly changes his attention to Sunny's mom back, while Basil has a hard time moving away his focus from it. They arrive at the staircase. Kel doesn't think twice and steps halfway through it. Basil freezes.

"Basil?" Kel calls out for him.

Basil tries to hide his anxiety and replies "C-coming!"

They are at front of Sunny's room, Sunny's mother a little further, to give the boys some space. Kel knocks the door, but this time, more gently.

"Sunny? It's Kel and Basil!" No reply.

Basil gives a quick look back at the staircase and Something starts crawling around him.

"Sunny." Kel starts again, leaning his hand on the door. "Sorry for not talking to you until now. But you know that we're here for you, right?" Kel sends a signal to Basil by raising his eyebrows and tilting his head towards the door, asking him to join.

Basil desperately tries to find the words. But the truth is, he wasn't expecting Sunny's mom, much less Kel's presence. It's not that he didn't have anything to say. He couldn't say anything he wanted to.

The creeping silence started to bother Kel, so he continued instead.

"Oh, I know! If you want, we can have a sleepover!" No reply. "Uh, it doesn't need to be anything fancy! We don't need to play games or eat snacks… We don't even need to talk. Just have each other's company, y'know?"

Kel smiled as he placed his other hand and ear to the door, waiting for the answer. He believed his idea was too good to be turned down. No reply.

"Sunny?" More silence.

Sunny's mom sighs, ready to call Kel and Basil back. Kel moves away from the door. He starts playing with his hoodie strings, looking a little less bright than before.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay." He did his best to hold a smile "I totally understand if you just need time alone."

"…like Hero." He completes under his breath, almost a whisper.

Another wave of silence. Is Sunny ignoring them? Is he even listening? Basil's mind go blank as he stares at the door.

"We'll come back tomorrow!" Kel bursts. The "we" took Basil by surprise.

"R-right! We'll be back tomorrow, Sunny." Basil faintly addes to the farewell.

Kel gives one last knock on the door, and starts walking away. Basil follows him.

"Oh, kids…"

"Can we really come back tomorrow?" Basil asks.

"Oh, yes, you may come… I'll let you know if he's available or not." It wasn't very reassuring.

After one last goodbye, the two boys leave the house. A few steps later, they stop in front of Kel's house. Before Basil could say anything, Kel apologizes.

"I'm sorry you couldn't say much. I hogged all the time for myself."

"N-not really. I wasn't sure what to say, anyway…"

"Isn't it strange, though? Sunny… He doesn't like to be alone, why would he…?" Kel stops and shakes his head. "We just have to try again tomorrow!" Kel smiles seems forced, Basil notices.

"W-well… See you tomorrow, then?"

"No, wait- let me walk you home!"

"O-okay." Basil let him be.

In the middle of the walk, Kel turns to Basil.

"I still didn't talk to Aubrey either. Did you?" Basil shakes his head. "I thought about visiting her too, but- I think I'm the last person she would want to see." Basil thought the same of himself, but kept silent about it.

Kel is a open book, he has no reason to hide his emotions and usually can be very blunt with his honesty. But something feels off today. Or since then. That day. Looking better, Basil notices Kel was using a navy colored hoodie at least two sizes larger than it should be. A small letter "H" was embroidered on it. Kel would use passed down clothes from Hero, but this one was clearly borrowed before its time.

He was lonely too.

Soon, Basil's home is right around the corner.

"Hm, actually." Basil starts. "I promised grandma I was going to buy a few things at the convenience store. Do you want to tag along…?" Kel snorts in reply. Was Basil trying to cheer him up?

"Sure, let's go! But let's be quick, mom won't like if I come home too late." He skips ahead.

"Wait! The store is on the opposite direction!"

"Oh!!"

///

It's night. Between the interval of a lightpost to another, Kel can't stand the silence anymore.

"Aah, I should have brought some pocket money!" He comes closer to Basil, using his hand to shield the conversation like he was about to confide a secret. "But I already spent all my allowance."

Basil wasn't expecting chit-chat, but wasn't too surprised either. It kind of gave him a sense of normality.

"…Hero always scolds me for spending it too quickly.

Like everything that happened was just a bad dream…

"But Mari would always treat me instead!"

A shiver passes through Basil's spine.

"Are you cold?" Kel opens his arms as invinting for a hug.

"No, I'm okay!"

Kel stops and rewinds what he just said.

"Sorry."

"N-no, don't be." Basil almost regrets calling Kel over. The uncomfortable silence is back, until Kel broke it again.

"I'll be more careful with my money from now on."

"?"

"So I can be the one who treat everyone out! How is that?"

"Are you sure you'll be able to do that?"

"What? You understimate me!!"

Basil slips a weak smile. Kel smiles back, like he planned it from the beggining. They continue their walk.

///

At the convenience store, Basil goes straight to what he went for. To kill time, Kel explores around until something take his attention at the candy area. Basil approaches too see what was so interesting. Kel only notices his presence after a while.

"Eek!" Kel was startled.

"…Are you going to ask for borrowed money?" Basil teases.

"No!! I was just looking… See, there's everyone's favorite flavor today…"

Basil identifies each flavor and silently pick them up.

They leave the store and Kel lifts his lollipop over his head.

"Basil, you're the best!" The compliment take Basil aback.

"It's just candy…"

"Yeah, it's just candy." Basil didn't expect him to agree so fast.

"It's the thought that counts!"

Basil just nods.

///

They arrive at Basil's house again.

"We're here!" Kel announces the obvious.

"Y-yeah."

Basil moves ahead to the door.

"See you tomorrow!!"

Basil stops.

"S-sure."

///

Basil is welcomed by his grandma with tea and cookies. Putting the groceries aside and with a cup in hands, he stares at the lollipops over the kitchen's table. Strawberry, watermelon and grape. He thinks back when Kel pointed that everyones flavors were available. All six of them. He shrugs the thought away.

Kel is on his way back, already appreciating his orange lollipop, while waving the cola flavored one in the air. He wonders when he'll be able to deliver the little gift. He wonders when he'll be able to talk to Hero again. Or to any of his friends for that matter. He shrugs the thought away.

THE END

[redr0sewrites]

First Taste of You

🥀A/n: Loki is my comfort character and i wanted to write something tiny as i haven't posted in a hot minute bc im writing a lot of *spoilers* for november. might write a pt2 to this w actual smut, might not... who knows.

🥀Cw: suggestive/nothing explicit, implied that reader is an avenger + lives in stark tower with Loki

cocky, charming, and manipulative. when you first met Loki, his impression was always of someone in need of constant control and attention- especially yours. he was always busying himself by bothering you, getting in your way by any means necessary if only to receive your focus for even just a short time. however, the more he was around, the more you began to like him, and an unlikely friendship began to bloom. suddenly, you both were inseparable, bonding over both your similarities and differences.

the attraction was obvious fo the both of you, and while you never actually went farther than teasing and flirting, the desire was so strong it was nearly tangible. soon, it turned into an enticing game of cat and mouse, seeing how far he could go and flirt before you finally snap and push through the boundary between friends and something more. fortunately for you, (and unfortunately for him), your patience with the god seemed to be never ending- until one day, he went too far. now, you have him pinned against a wall, cheeks rosy and bodies flushed together.

"so this is what it took to get you riled up?" Loki coos, green eyes narrowed as you pressed against him. "i would have flirted with them months earlier if it meant this reaction, darli-" you yank at his collar, tugging him down to your height and kissing him hard. the kiss is sloppy, all teeth and tongue and lust, but Loki's gently hands cupping your cheeks speak volumes. Loki's head knocks back against the wall with a soft clunk, and he winces beneath your touch.

"slow down," he murmurs against your lips, but his actions don't coincide with his words, considering the lustful rocking of his hips against yours and the firm hands now moving to grip your waist, pulling you impossibly close. you capture his bottom lip between your teeth and a soft whine melts into a groan as one of your hands finds its way to his scalp, tugging hard. he looks down at you with his usual teasing expression, as though he can't even believe how bold you've become.

"ffuck- someone's needy, huh?"

"you can never just shut the fuck up, can you?"

Loki smirks at your words, eying you with thinly veiled want.

"we really shouldn't be away from this party for too long..." he murmurs, pulling away from your lips to whisper in your ear. "it would be a shame if someone noticed our absence..."

"fuck the Stark party, theres one practically every other day. you hate those things anyway," you grumble, and Loki chuckles yet again.

"true... but, alas, if i am successful in wooing you, which considering our current position, i feel as though i might be.." you narrow your eyes as Loki continues smirking that signature grin, "then i wouldn't want my first taste of you to be in a random hallway, now would i? come to my quarters tonight, and i'll give you your compensation for making you wait oh so long. until then, let's return to the party, hm? wouldn't want to keep your little friends waiting," he sneers, but his eyes betray his affectionate intent.

"you really are a sweet talker, y'know that?" you huff, pulling away from him. you hadn't noticed how his knee had become wedged between your thighs, nor how tangled your hands were in his hair, but it was certainly obvious now. Loki eyes you cautiously, almost as though he's afraid your angry.

"we shouldn't go back together, that will make it incredibly obvious. i'll see you in a few hours," you turn to walk away, Loki still leaning against the wall with a reassured, dazed smirk on his face. you turn around to call back one last time.

"and fix your hair! it looks messy."

"i like messy," he purrs, and you roll your eyes.

"flirt."

"you fell for me, dear."

"see you later!" you say exaggeratedly, turning away so he can't catch the giddy expression on your face. fuck, you can't wait for tonight.

i wrote this as a little tide over since i haven't posted any writing in a HOT MINUTE,,,, i promise that im cooking i have a lot of things in plan for november bear with me 😇 anywayd i desperately need to write more for marvel its one of my favorite fandoms so if anyone has any requests,,,,,, please please please 🙏

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter Twenty-Three

chapter warnings: none?

we're getting sooo close to the final chapters (which i still need to bring myself to write up properly) i don't feel like i'm ready to let go of this fic, but in the final chapter i will be making an announcement about what is to follow :) happy monday!! <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Hey, you okay?” Noah asks, reaching his hand out to hold yours as you both walk out of the elevator and make your way down the hallway.

You nod your head, despite the nervous tension building in your chest.

“If people ask…” He says, looking at you for confirmation.

“We’re not a couple.” You say, taking a deep breath as you both exchange a small smile.

The party was being held at a beautiful rooftop bar, dimly lit by strings of lights as the sun began to set. Industry insiders, producers, and band members were all here to mix- you noticed some came dressed in suits, others in more casual wear- but every woman you spot seems to have stepped out of a magazine, they all looked so put together. You suddenly begin to a little feel out of place, wondering if you really should've came.

You and Noah walked up the stairs and through the open doors into the room.

“You okay?” Noah asked, noticing how you had suddenly gone quiet.

"Yeah. Just... not used to all this." You looked down at the ground as he looked around the room, trying to find a group to join, friends to introduce you to.

"That’s okay, I don’t usually come to these kind of events, so I'm in the same boat... The guys should be here soon, by the way, Matt said the traffics pretty bad."

“Well, we did ask if they wanted to come with us,” you chuckle, noticing Noah's eyes were still elsewhere. “Y'know, if you want to go and talk to anybody then go ahead. I'll just wait for the others.”

“I'm not leaving you, y/n.”

“I’m an adult, I know how to make friends.” You smiled softly, although you did feel slightly anxious at the thought of being alone in a room full of strangers.

“Shit.” You heard Noah mumble under his breath, turning around as if to hide whilst a figure approached the both of you, however as a 6ft 3 man, this would prove difficult.

“Well, if it isn’t Noah Sebastian,” the woman smiled, a seductive tone in her voice, “I’ve heard your band is blowing up, arena tours now is it? To think I’ve been here since your Warped days- Where’s the time gone, huh?”

The woman stands confidently, radiating a powerful presence that’s hard to ignore, and you couldn’t deny she was extremely beautiful. She had long auburn hair tied back into a ponytail, facial features that made her resemble Megan Fox and she also appeared to be heavily tattooed, judging by her neck and hands, the rest of her covered by the emerald green suit she wore.

“8 years,” he nods, a smile on his face that looks almost forced, “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Well it's not been a good year for us so..." She presses her lips together, clearly ashamed, before suddenly changing the subject. "You’re looking good, I like what you’ve done with your hair.” She reaches out, running her fingers through his hair as her eyes meet his, a gesture that feels far too intimate for someone who was just a friend of his. You wondered what kind of past they had, and why you had never heard about her before.

Something sour rises in your chest. You fight it down, forcing your gaze elsewhere. The tension is unbearable as you search for something else to focus on and quickly spot the bar. You needed to get out of this, whatever this was. However, as you were about to excuse yourself, she turns to look at you.

“I'm guessing you’re the younger model he traded me in for, huh?” Her voice snaps back into focus, you look up to see a smirk on her face and you try to come up with something to say back to that, but you couldn't.

“No, uh, I’m y/n. I’m-”

“Y/n’s my friend.” Noah cuts in, his tone protective. “We invited her as our second photographer on this tour, surely you've heard Bryan mention her in the past.”

She eyes you with a slight sneer. 

“Ah, yes, I've heard about you. You probably know me already, but I’m Lauren.” She tells you which band she sings for and you'd be lying if you said you recognised the name.

“I’m afraid I don’t.” You tilt your head, laughing on the inside as you see the confusion spread across her face.

“Seriously?" Her eyebrows furrow, "I have a song with bring me th-”

“So I’ll leave you two to catch up then, it seems like you've got a lot to talk about!" You smile, seeing Noah's eyes widen slightly, "I'm going to get a drink.”

You walk away from the two of them, concealing your frustration as you lean against the bar. She's clearly known him for a while, perhaps even longer than you. You knew that you and Noah weren't exclusive, and that you also had Vinny, but you couldn't help but feel a certain way as you thought about the way she touched Noah, replaying it in your mind. Sure, it was only his hair but it seemed deeper than that. And she was gorgeous, it was hard not to feel slightly jealous.

“Everything okay?” Bryan asks with a chuckle as the guys join you at the bar, having just arrived.

“Who the fuck is she?” You grit your teeth, mumbling under your breath. You tried to ignore the prickling feeling of jealousy, but Lauren's eyes never left Noah, and her smile only grew.

“Oh,” Matt seemed to be the first to realise what you were talking about, “That is Lauren. She never dated Noah but she’s been obsessed with him ever since they first met, but he’s never been too interested. I think he played on it back in the day because he had no other options.” He laughed.

“No way!” Folio gasped, amusement painting his face as he spotted Lauren and Noah, “She’s here?” 

“So what actually happened between them?” You ask, wondering what kind of relationship they really had.

“They’d always flirt on twitter, facebook, instagram, you name it- but never in person. She would always say it’s because Noah’s shy around her, but we knew different. If he wanted her he would've had her.” Matt said, taking his hat off and placing it on the bar.

“Should we go and save him?” Nicholas laughed, amused at how Noah’s expression clearly told you all he didn’t want to be there. 

But why has he never told you about her? And why did she feel like she could just strut over to the two of you and put her hands all over your man friend! You were going to teach her a lesson tonight, you’re usually a girls girl, but she had truly pissed you off. 

And nobody pisses you off and gets away with it.

“No.” You smile, an evil idea in your mind, “Leave him.” 

Matt raises an eyebrow. 

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.” You give an innocent smile, “He’s got this under control, it's nothing he's not handled before, guys, he’s fine!”

You were going to let the truth come out, loud and clear.

The guys seemed to find something else to talk about as you ordered yourself a drink, feeling someone lurking behind you.

“So what’s this about?” Bryan’s voice makes you jump, you curse him with you hand over your chest as you turn to speak to him.  

“I don’t like her,” you sigh, “I don’t like the way she looks at him, or the way she was invading his personal space, putting her hands all over him like she owned him. And I know Noah too well, I know he doesn’t like it either.” 

Bryan was still confused. 

“I mean yeah it’s pretty entertaining to watch Noah squirm.” Bryan admits, and you nod, taking a sip of your drink, "But it's really not that deep, y/n."

“I just wish he’d have told me about their past," you say, ignoring Bry's words, "Why have I never heard about her?”

“Honestly, I guess he didn’t think it mattered. Like Matt said, he never liked her in the way she liked him. Now he's not on social media he's had no reason to speak to her, or even think about her.” He shrugged, before he narrows his eyes, "... Are you jealous?"

You give him the side eye, knowing it's impossible to lie to Bryan. He always seemed to know.

"Maybe a little," you say with a sigh, feeling like now was the perfect time to come clean to Bryan, "Look, Bry, you've probably guessed already but Noah and I have something going on, it's pretty complicated because Vin's involved too-"

"Yeah, I thought so." He chuckled, his hand running over his beard, before giving you a look to say continue.

"Anyway," you shook your head, "I don't know if feeling jealous is valid in this situation... Because he's had his suspicions about Vinny but I've never told him the truth, and he's never told me about her, but we're not together."

"Hey," Bryan could see how this had clearly upset you, his hand rested on your shoulder as he gave you a soft smile, "If you have feelings for him then of course it's normal to feel that way, but now maybe you can see why Noah feels the way he does about you and Vinny?"

"You've noticed that too, huh?" You frowned, realising he was right.

Your eyes drift back over to them, watching the way she over-exaggerated a laugh at something he said, her hand brushing his arm. 

You almost felt bad for Noah. 

“God, she’s relentless.” You mutter under your breath.

20 minutes pass and you can tell Noah is sick of it, she wouldn't let him get away, you assumed your plan was going well. They were sat opposite each other on the couches, and you watched the way she teased his leg with her heel. His hands were balled into fists, and you could see he was trying not to lose his shit.

However, whilst you were too busy watching them, you hadn't notice the guy who had approached you.

“Wow... I never thought I’d see you again, and here of all places?” He chuckled.

“Oh my god,” you were lost for words, “No… you’re…” 

“You came here with Bad Omens?” He asked, and you nodded, your eyes drifting back over to Noah.

“Yeah, I’m Noah's plus one.”

“Oh! So you two are…”

“Oh, no! We’re both single!” You nodded, and before he could say something else, Noah’s voice beamed through the air.

“No! I’ve had enough, okay! I’ve put up with this for long enough, I don’t give a fuck and I never have! I tried to let you down gently in the past but you just never fucking get it! I’m not interested, okay? I never have been and I never will be. Is that clear enough for you?!” He shouted, and you held back the smile tugging on your lips as you watched her smile fade as Noah walked away, running his fingers through his hair as he approached you two. 

Max nods his head. 

"You sure about that? " He smirked.

"Yes!

“Okay... Well I guess that explains why you were all over me at the club that night then.” 

“Oh,” Noah's eyes widened, “So you two do know each other.”

“Quite well.” Max smirked, but that quickly dropped as he saw the terror on your face. 

“Oh shit!” Folio laughed, watching the scene play out in front of him. 

“Noah, it was literally the first day of tour!” You chuckle nervously. 

“Y/n," Noah shook his head, a humourless laugh leaving his lips, "Do you even know who this is?”

“Max...?” You shrugged. 

“This is Max Santoro... Y'know, the drummer for Thousand Below... Sound familiar?” He crossed his arms.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your face paling, realising just what that meant. Noah was close with the guys in Thousand Below, he'd helped them write and produce songs in the past, and they'd even toured together. You knew they were all friends, he talked about them rather a lot.

“Do you have a thing for drummers then, hm? What next, are you gonna tell me you’re in a secret relationship with Folio?!” Noah exclaims, and Folio shakes his head. 

“Leave me out of this one, man!” 

“Did you know about this?" Noah's head suddenly turns to Nick, "You were there that night?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s a big deal, right? It was a kiss.” Folio scoffed. 

“Can we please just leave this,” you sigh, “So I kissed your friend when I was drunk at a party, you’ve had a secret whatever-you-want-to-call-Lauren this whole time and never thought to tell me?”

“Fuck,” Max laughed, “That’s her? She looks so different, I didn't recognise her.”

Noah shakes his head, trying to hold himself together.

“Look, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” Max says, “I didn’t know about the two of you-”

“It’s not your fault,” you mutter, rubbing your temples as the whole night feels like it’s spinning out of control, “There’s nothing going on between the two of us anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Noah sighs as he apologises, patting Max on the back, “She just fucking annoyed me,” he looked over at Lauren, “Basically asked if I’d put her on our next album if she slept with me.” 

“What?” Your eyes widened, feeling your blood begin to boil, but kept it under control. 

“It’s done now,” he smiled, “I think she got the message."

“And so did everyone else.” Max chuckled, “Anyway I need to go and find Josh, I’ve been holding his beer for 10 minutes now, surely it doesn’t take a guy that long to pee.”

“Okay, we'll come and join you guys soon.” Noah nodded as he walked off. 

“I’m sorry I should’ve told you about that night- to be honest I totally forgot about him!”

“It’s okay,” Noah chuckles, “I should’ve told you about Lauren, I just didn’t think she’d be here. Her band hasn’t had a song that’s done well in about 6 years.” 

You scoffed. Good, you thought. 

You wondered whether you should bring it up or not, but you wanted to hear it directly from him. 

“So what was the deal with her?”

He took a deep breath. 

“There isn’t,” he chuckled, “We started off as friends, she had a boyfriend when we first met, but not long after we met on warped tour she broke up with him and tried getting with me, but I never thought of her like that. She was like a sister to me, it just felt… weird. She’d always flirt with me on social media and I’d play into it because sometimes I thought it was funny, but when the band started blowing up I realised she’d only be trying to use me more, since her band is… well…” 

You wanted to laugh, so she really did get what she deserved. 

"Let's not talk about her anymore..." You said, looking down at your cup. Noah smiled, reaching his hand out to lift your chin up, and for a brief moment you thought he was about to kiss you.

“How about I introduce you to some of my friends? I told them you'd be coming with me tonight.”

“Sure,” you smiled, “I’d love to meet them.”

Noah held your hand through the crowd as you joined Thousand Below at their table, and a couple members of Erra had joined them, and you had to hold back your excitement.

“Hey guys," Noah sat down, patting the chair beside him for you, "This is y/n, Bryan’s oldest friend, our second photographer! Y/n this is James, Josh, Alana, Josh number 2, and, well, you know Max, and these guys are Clint and Jesse!” 

"It's so great to meet you all." You smile as they all introduce themselves.

“I don't play for the band by the way,” Alana laughed, “I’m Josh's- this Josh’s girlfriend!” She smiled, pointing at her boyfriend.

“So you’re the famous y/n.” Jesse smirked, “We know all about you, don't we?”

“Oh yeah?” You saw Noah blush. 

“Don’t listen to them,” Noah places a hand on your thigh, “So-”

“Wait, are you two dating?” Alana smiled.

“No!” You both exclaimed, which seemed very convincing to them. 

“Sure…” Josh nodded. 

“So, how’s your first tour going?” Alana asked.

“It’s been pretty good, we’re about halfway through now.” You smiled. 

“I still remember my first tour- it was with Bad Omens too! I should mention I also do a lot of production work with bands.” 

“Oh, cool! Who have you worked with?” 

Lana swapped seats with James so you and her could have a conversation between yourselves as the other guys talked to each other, you both realised you had a lot in common too. You both like similar bands, and she’s even worked with some of your favourite artists. 

“I might go and get another drink,” you announce, and Noah nodded. 

“I’ll come with you.”

As you both walked back to the bar, Noah's arm around your waist, you told him about how well you and Lana were getting along, and how you thought the guys from both bands were pretty cool.

Then, as you got to the bar your eyes drifted to the door and you spotted somebody.

“Holy shit!” You gasped, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

“What?” Noah chuckled, clearly amused at your random outburst. 

“Is that…” 

You could hardly believe it. It couldn’t be…

Walking through the door, looking even more stunning in person, was none other than Andy Biersack and his wife? This is the man you’d dreamed about for years, plastered on your walls as a teenager. And now, here he was, in the flesh, in front of you?

You tried your best not to freak out, which would prove to be a vital skill in the industry you want to work in, but this was different. You’ve loved this guy for the majority of your life.

“Noah… That’s…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, feeling your palms get sweaty. 

“Who?” He followed your gaze, and realised what this was all about. 

“Andy…” Your mouth was dry and your legs felt weak.

“What?” He laughed, and then he watched as Andy waved him over, “Wanna go and talk to him?” 

“Really?” You blinked at him, completely stunned. 

“Well it looks like he’s calling me over so…” 

You followed behind Noah in a daze as he approached Andy, who was now stood alone as his wife had gone to greet a friend. You took deep breaths, his presence felt even more magnetic up close. 

“Hey, congrats on the new album- or albums! I never got a chance to congratulate you on The Death of Peace of Mind, and then the OST came out… both were just… amazing!” Andy grins, extending a hand for Noah to shake.

“Thanks,” Noah blushed, he was never good at taking compliments, “Your new songs are sick too, aren’t they, y/n?”

All you could do was nod.

“Is this your girlfriend?”

“Friend.” Noah nodded, “And also our tour photographer.”

“I’m y/n.” You swallowed hard, finally finding your voice. You had never felt so starstruck before. “I-I don’t know what to say, I’ve always fucking loved you… I mean… I’ve always been a fan, I just-” 

Andy chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. 

“Thanks,” he smiled, “I think I’ve actually seen… yeah, you’re touring with Motionless too, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head. He knew you?

“I’ve seen your work, your photography, it’s amazing!” Yes, you were going to faint. You could hardly breathe. This couldn’t be happening. 

“Oh my god, thank you. Seriously, I-”

“We've actually got a tour coming up in a couple months,” Andy cut in, “We’ve been looking for photographers, but none of the ones we’ve contacted have gotten back to us. If you’re free, would you be interested in joining us? No promises, I’ll need to discuss it with our team, but if you’re available, I’d love to have you on board. I’ve been meaning to ask Chris about your details so we could contact you, so I’m quite happy I’ve met you tonight!”

Andy Biersack was happy he met you. 

You stood there, completely speechless. Your mind scrambled to form coherent words. 

“I... I... yes! Yes, of course, I’d-” You were grinning so wide your face was aching. “I’d love that! Yes!”

Andy smiled back, clearly pleased by your enthusiasm. 

“Great! Like I said, I’ll need to check with the team first, but if you’re free and ready to go, we’d be thrilled to have you on the tour.”

“Thank you,” you breathed, your voice shaking slightly as tears filled your eyes. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this... I never thought I’d even meet you, let alone work for you. This is... This is my dream.”

Andy’s smile grew wider. 

“No problem.”

“Can I-” You started, then hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “Can I hug you? Or is that... weird?”

“Not at all! Come here!” He grinned, opening his arms. 

Without thinking, you rushed into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you. It felt surreal, like you were about to wake up from a dream. His arms were firm around you, and for a brief moment, you forgot about everything else. Every moment of suffering and disappointment in your life has paved the way for this moment. Everything made sense. 

When he pulled away, you were still grinning like a giddy schoolgirl, your heart soaring in your chest. You wanted nothing more than to go back in time, to tell your younger self that it’s going to be okay. 

You had never felt so happy before. Everything was falling into place. 

Everything was going to be alright!

Or so you believed in this moment.

You watched Andy walk away with Juliet, and you immediately turned to Noah, grabbing his hand.

"Where are we going?" He chuckled as you lead him down the hallway.

"The bathroom, when I can find it." You smirked, following the sign.

When the two of you finally found it, you shut and locked the door before approaching Noah, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your height before your lips crash into his.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Meanwhile in Chris’ hotel room

Chris played the track, and Vin hummed the lyrics.

“Shit! The first part doesn’t sound right.” He groaned, putting his phone down on the table. 

“I was thinking we could change it a little?” Chris suggested, taking a sheet of paper and a pen that was conveniently in his bag. “So what if instead of this,” he began writing some of the lyrics, “We start it like this?”

“When you fall I’ll follow you, into nothing ever after…” Vin read the lyrics out, before changing them once more, “How about this?”

“Wait, let me start the track again,” Chris smiled, pressing start on his laptop, “So if we leave this as the intro…” He nodded his head to the music before singing, “If you fall then I will too, into nothing ever after. Do we have to face the truth, or look away, neglect the wounds… do do do do… I like it!” 

“We just need to finish the rest.” Vinny sighed. 

“I like what you’ve got so far, it's pretty deep... Who hurt you?” Chris chuckled, reading some of the lyrics Vin had written. 

“I uh… Watched a movie, and it inspired me.”

Chris could tell by the look in his eyes that he was lying, but he didn’t question it any further. He simply nodded his head and restarted the track.

-------------------

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah @discocowgirly @rainy-darling

[igglemouse]

It's Monday which is kind of the start of the week? It usually feels like it at least and I'm not exactly sure what might happen this Monday but I'll be starting it in the shower. Washing off the last of yesterday, you could say, because one must smell good in show business. Just imagine me showing up for my audition with a stench? 'Sorry, you're acting was impeccable but but you stink, no literally, you stink!'

By the by, I'm not much of a chef and so you'll see me munching on whatever I can get my hands on and this morning its a very plain sandwich. I hope it'll be good enough for breakfast because it is the best I can do right now.

OH! Some news that you might not expect but I've decided to join a book club! I'm not sure exactly why buuuuuut, I did? Look, I saw an opportunity and I took it and besides, acting includes a lot of reading. Imagine being an A-lister and having countless scripts sent your way? Exactly. So I plan on being an avid reader!

ANY WAYS! Off to my first audition! Wish me luck!

After a successful audition (I won the part!) I head out to the park to clear my mind and just enjoy the day. A good day. A happy day because my career is beginning. Sure, it's just a commercial but one, it adds to my currently blanke resume and two, I make simoleons. So, we all have to start somewhere and I look forward to shooting it.

ANYWAYS! So I'm at the park and feeling the vibes until the sound of a clearly practicing and amateur musician hits my ears. I'm not going to lie, most of it was horrible, but for whatever reason it catches my attention and interest.

I'm not new here. Like I've said, I'm DSV for life, born and raised, so I'm used to seeing people out in the street begging for the right pair of eyes or ears to give them their big chance so this is nothing new, but the man certainly has a unique sound to him...

It's his voice. That's what it was. It has a tenderness to it that grabs you, that makes you wonder about his story, but then you hear his fingers carelessly pluck at a guitar and it ruins whatever comes from his throat.

I stare at him for a moment and wonder what his game is. Does he realize that he can't play the guitar or is this some new genre I know nothing about? I'll be honest, if it's not a musical I don't vibe with it so it is entirely possible that maybe he this is what you kids listen to nowadays? Anyways, the man seems satisfied with himself.

He finishes and puts his guitar down, satisfied with himself for whatever reason and looking at me as if he expects some applause. "Ummm, congrats!" is all I can offer for lack of not knowing what else to say. I don't want to put him down because he's so very proud of his performance. Actually, he should be, at least half of it? don't know what else to say, he seems so proud of himself.

"Ah, thank you, thank you!" Yep, definitely proud of himself.

"Your voice is very unique, in a good way!" Always focus on the positive, right?!

"Thanks! I'm new to the guitar but it's like they say, practice makes perfect, right?"

"Umm, is it a good idea to practice in the public?" I ask the obvious question because why practice in front of others? It would be like me performing my script out here in front of others.

"I figure if people see my rawness and see the growth over time that they might connect with me more, y'know?"

"Oh, yeah..." hmm, that is an interesting outlook on it, I guess he's thinking long term? "So, whats your vibe, what's your style? What kind of music are you trying to create?"

"All I have is my voice and my word, so I kind of mix things up, you know? A little melodic singing over music is what I tend to do. I don't have a genre, I want to transcend genres."

"Hmm, yeah," Yep, definitely a musician. I know us artists get flack for being odd but that's not on us, not on us thespians I should clarify. It's mainly the painters and musicians that are out there. Maybe you can include writers, if you can find them, they like to hide under rocks after all. "I think you definitely have the talent, at least with your voice, so yeah I can see that!"

"Yep, now it's just about finding someone with simoleons to believe in me I guess."

"Well, you might not get it playing like that in this park!" I joke, but he does laugh with me and seems to understand my point.

"I'm persistent, I'll be here everyday until someone gets tired of it."

"I get it! I'm the same way, I guess we are both here chasing dreams," and this is the city of dreams, isn't it? A city of stars is probably more apt.

"Oh, you too huh!? Derrick, by the way," and he gives me that smile, maybe you know the one? The one that tells me he'd like to see me again but in a different setting. Right now, I'm not exactly opposed to that.

"Teresa! Maybe one day our names will be on the front page of a magazine!"

Derrick was well met especially because his story feels similar to mines. He's out there grinding with the hopes that someone, anyone, will give him a shot. That's how this whole thing works, doesn't it? You do all you can for that one shot, that one moment that will launch you into stardom and once you are there? Once you are there it's hard to get you down. For him, it's one song that can transform his career and for me it's one performance.

So I find myself back home in front of my mirror and the script firmly in hand. It's a commercial so my lines are few, two sentences, but I'll put my entire soul into those two lines.

But commercials are not my end goal of course as they are just a stepping stone to bigger and better things. I don't have any connections but I do have a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend that thinks she can get me into an upcoming sitcom that is specifically looking for someone that looks just like me but this is an opportunity for another day so let's not think too much on it right now.

Alright, I think I've done enough for the day. I cook some friend plantains, which I do alright with, and get ready for bed. I'll need a full day of rest for my performance tomorrow. Do they give awards for commercials, by the way?

Teresa Tejedor - Next Episode 1.3

[danurso]

Yang: Aaahhh! The beach! Oh, I missed this place!

Weiss: *holding an umbrella* Why do you feel the need to be so dramatic about it? It's just a beach.

Yang: It's the best place in the world! Not that you would know anything about it, being the first time in a place with so much sun and all.

Weiss: I've been to beaches before!

Yang: Your pale ghost skin begs to differ.

Weiss: *eyebrow twitching*

Ruby: Relax everyone, we came here to enjoy the place.

Nora: Hell yeah we did! *holding a surfboard above her head* Last one in the water smells like a dead fish! *Bolts away*

Ren: I better make sure she doesn't hit a rock again. *Follows*

Ruby: You're coming Blake?

Blake: *sitting on a shadow and reading* Thank you, but no thank you.

Yang: Your loss!

Yang shifts her focus to a fellow blonde, and makes her way towards him with a cheeky grin.

Yang: Hey there ladykiller~

Jaune: *putting on sunscreen* Hey. Gimme a second, gonna join you guys as soon as i finish here.

Yang: So, I'm done changing. Whaddya think?

Jaune, who up until now was focused on covering himself with sunscreen, finally looked at Yang who had her hair on a ponytail and wore a simple orange bikini, with her favorite glasses resting on her head.

Jaune: *red* Oh. . . .it looks uhmm *scratching his neck* I-it looks pretty good.

Yang: Hehehe, that's good to know. Mind getting me something to drink?

Jaune: S-sure. *Walks off*

Yang: *Grinning*

Ruby: Planning to make a move already? Or are you just gonna use him as an errand boy?

Yang: Oh please, I'm taking things slowly for now, giving it time to do stuff right y'know?

Ruby: Uh-huh.

Weiss: Well, taking your time is a good thing, but if you don't pay attention someone might snatch him from under your nose.

Yang: Oh yeah? And who would try and do that?

Weiss: *Looking behind Yang* Apparently, quite a lot of girls.

Yang turned around to see Jaune in the distance, drinks in hand and with an awkward smile as a flock of girls surrounded him.

Weiss: Well, it seems like Nora was right.

Ruby: Dammit! Now I owe her twenty bucks. . . .Yang?

Yang: *walking towards the group*

Ruby: . . . . . .think they're going to be okay?

Weiss: No clue, but for all legal intents and purposes, I do not know her.

Ruby: *deadpan* Thanks, that was very reassuring of you.

*Meanwhile*

Jaune: Err. . . .look, I really need to go now.

Girl1: Aww, why don't you come hang out with us?

Girl2: We're gonna play volley, we could use someone like you on our team~

Girl3: It's gonna be fun! Come on~

Jaune: I would love to, but i'm with my friends already so-

Yang: Hey there everyone! *Pushes through the group and hugs jaunes arm* You need something?

Jaune: *red* Y-yang?

Girl2: Who are you?

Girl1: We got here first! Dibs on the Blondie

Girl3: Yeah! Go find your own!

Yang: Oh really? *Hair on fire, eyes glowing red* Wanna say that again?

The trio yelped in surprise, falling back on the sand before running away.

Yang: Hmph, That's better.

Jaune: Weren't you a little too harsh with them?

Yang: You're too nice y'know? You can't just let girls harass you like that.

Jaune: They weren't harassing me, they're staying in a house around here and just wanted me to go with them to play volleyball.

Yang: . . . . .so they wanted you to follow them to their house just to play volleyball?

Jaune: Yes.

Yang: Even though there's like, three volleyball areas a few meters from here

Jaune: Well. . . . .yeah.

Yang: *sigh* You're so innocent it's almost cute. But keep something on your head, girls like that usually want something else from you.

Jaune: What could they want with-

Yang: *gives him a look*

Jaune: . . . . . . .*pink* oh, right. I see your point.

Yang: Oh don't worry, no one really gets it the first time it happens to them. Just remember, the next time you get approached by a girl, pay attention so you don't get tricked by their charms. *Takes her drink and starts drinking*

Jaune: Thanks but. . . . .this isn't the first time that happens.

Yang: *spits drink* It's what!?

Jaune: It already happened before now that I think about it.

Yang: When!?

Jaune: Well, there was this one time where a girl stopped me and asked for directions, and insisted that I guided her myself, even offering lunch as thanks. . . . .there's also that lady from the dust shop who keeps calling me a good boy and offering me a job as her personal assistant. Oh, there's also the time where I tried to help a girl who fell from her bike and twisted her ankle, I offered to use my semblance on her but she kept insisting that I should carry her to a hospital. There was also this one time where. . . . . . . .wow, this happens way more often than I ever thought before.

Yang: . . . . . .

Jaune: Yang? You okay?

Yang: *Smiling* Yeah, doing great.

Jaune: Uhm, okay. I'm going in the water, you're coming.

Yang: Sure, I'm right behind you.

Jaune: *leaves*

Yang: . . . . . . .

Weiss: *joins in* So, problem solved?

Yang: No. . . . .nowhere near that, my noodle was in danger all this time and I didn't even know.

Ruby: It's just some girls trying to hit on him, it's not a big deal. It's not like Jaune is the type of guy to let himself be swayed by someone he just met.

Weiss: Though maybe, if you're really so concerned about someone stealing him from you, you could stop playing around and do what has to be done already.

Yang: . . . . .you're right. No more joking, I have to take this seriously from now on, there only one way to keep him safe and I'm doing it!

*A few days later*

Jaune: You sure you wanted to come? I thought you didn't like comics.

Yang: They're pretty nice, ruby loves them too.

Jaune: I know. . . . .can i ask you something though?

Yang: Yes?

Jaune: Why are you dressed up like this?

Yang: *Wearing a black suit, sunglasses and an earpiece* No particular reason.

Jaune: I see. . . . . .

Girl: Hey there handsome~

Jaune: Hey-

Yang: Hostile in sight! Deadly force authorized!

Girl: What the- GHAA!!! *gets tackled to the ground*

Jaune: YANG!?!?

Ruby: *in the next aisle, sorting through comics* Welp, that went well. Looking on the bright side, no one died yet, so your plan seems to have worked.

Weiss: *holding a pile of comics for her* THAT WAS NOT WHAT I MEANT FOR HER TO DO!!!!!

[characteroulette]

Okay y'know despite not receiving any answers on Apollo's apparent lack of character, I think I have figured out why people think as much about him. It's purely that they tend to just fill in their perceived lack with a more Phoenix motivation than Apollo's own actual motivations. Apollo gets conflated with Phoenix, especially in DD, despite how in AJ he wants nothing to do with Phoenix after his first case. It's easier to just treat Apollo as an extension of Phoenix since Phoenix is the main stay, the main focus, even if that couldn't be the furthest thing from the reality of the text.

Apollo wants the truth above all else. It's why he reveals that Machi is a smuggler and Vera is a forger despite how it might damage his clients' credibility. (We don't get things like this in DD, and in SOJ it's more revealing Datz is a terrorist would lose his case immediately. I think, at least.) But usually, when I see people muse in their fics on how Apollo would take defending an actually guilty client, they have him swap sides immediately. Just like Phoenix would. And I think that's not what Apollo would do. There's plenty of evidence in AJ that shows Apollo doesn't flip sides so immediately. He accused his teacher since the evidence and logic led him (/us) to that conclusion, but the entire time he was hoping for a different explanation. He pursued the truth in spite of his own misgivings on the situation. He presents the forged card because he is being manipulated into this, being led straight into the waiting jaws of that snake trap made specially to snare Kristoph.

He was naive, and he makes sure that doesn't happen again. Even in the final case of AJ, he makes sure to explain the second forged piece, to explain the same trick of it that Phoenix made for the first forged piece. It doesn't work this time (and I am begging Phoenix to have thought up a better way to get traces of poison from a convicted inmate's cell, even despite how favoured Kristoph was), but Apollo knows what he is doing now. He acknowledges instead of attempting to fudge anything, in direct contrast to Phoenix's own actions from the original trilogy.

I don't think he'd deny his client's guilt if they did truly commit the murder. I think he'd still fight for the truth, wouldn't settle for just a guilty verdict until the whole plot was figured out. Apollo wants to help his clients, sure, but that's never been his driving force. How could it be when it was never his choice who he ended up defending? What he wants is to know the truth. He wants to understand how the crime happened and follows the logical conclusion from that on how this crime occurred.

To be fair to Phoenix, he was under duress when this happened to him both times (Matt and Iris). But Phoenix is driven by belief in his clients while Apollo is driven by the desire to uncover the truth. Similar but very different motivations, I think.

I think this is also what separates Phoenix from Ryuunosuke. Phoenix believes in his clients. Ryuunosuke had to learn that belief but also carries Apollo's drive for the truth. He will claw and scrape until the worst is revealed, even if it hurts someone. (He'll feel terrible about it later, but he will still expose Kazuma's guilt in almost killing a man for the sake of the truth.) Taking this even further, the one who decides how like Phoenix or Apollo's motivations Ryuunosuke is are the choices the player can make. They might be meaningless choices narratively, but they matter in the same way the Matt Endgarde decision matters. You can choose for Ryuunosuke to turn a blind eye to McGilded's forgeries, belief in your client above all else. Or you can have Ryuunosuke acknowledge there is something shady happening here, truth above all else. Or you can have a mixture of the two! (I chose this option, making Ryuunosuke question the new evidence but ultimately pleading for a Not Guilty verdict.) It's a fascinating way to mix these two's strongest driving forces and leave it to the player to determine how much each side affects Ryuunosuke's personality as shown in the text.

Phoenix is willing to fudge the truth for the sake of his clients. We see as much in 3-3. Apollo would never do such a thing, he is here to find out the truth, no matter how ugly. And Ryuunosuke sits in-between the two, a little of column A and a little of column P. I just find this distinction between all of them so fascinating.

All this being said, I'd love to see Phoenix be put in this situation where he isn't under duress for once, actually. What he would do is fascinating to me hahaha

[libbys-braincell-loss]

i became inspired so heres a silly oneshot smg34 fic that also includes mario and meggy

---

This fic includes:

snowtrapped reference. Sorry yall </3

shitty grammar whenever mario speaks

---

SMG43 crush frustrations, a 2 1/2 part oneshot

---

Segment 1: SMG4 and Mario

---

SMG4 sits at his desk, making videos, as per usual. Working hard to appease the hell that is the YouTube algorithm, all that good stuff.

SMG4 is just focused on working on making a decent video, trying his hardest to work in peace.

Suddenly, the door breaks down for the 17th time this week (it's tuesday), and SMG4's idiot best friend Mario bursts in to disturb said peace.

"ES EM GEE FOUR" he yells, startling his friend.

SMG4 sighs. "Hey, Mario, what do you need?"

"I just wanted to see what you were doing :))" Mario replies.

"I'm just making videos, that's all," SMG4 says, attempting to regain focus on making the video. "I gotta finish as much as I can before I have to hang out with SMG3 later today"

"Ooooo, watcha gonna be doin?"

"3's just gonna be streaming the two of us messing around on Gmod. I think he wants to play prop hunt?"

"Mario played that one time with him. He's too good at it," Mario recalls.

"Heh, as if. He only won cuz he was against you," SMG4 exclaims. "He won't stand a chance going against me."

Mario peeks over the chair and observes SMG4 making his video.

"Can Mario help???" Mario asks.

"Hahaha, no," said SMG4. "You don't know shit about editing."

"Lol ur right, im just bored af and wanted to do something" Mario says, eyes crossing. "What video you makin"

"I'm remastering an old video called 'Charming Peach'; people seem to like when I make remasters of old videos," SMG4 responds.

"Oooooooooo" says Mario. "Can I suggest a video idea?"

"Y'know what, sure. Go ahead."

"Snowtrapped remaster :))))"

SMG4's eyes widen. He turns and looks at Mario in the crossed eyes and humongous mustache.

"Hell no!"

"Hell yeah :)"

"Why would you suggest that?! I'm not doing that!"

"Why not?"

SMG4 blinks. "Why do you think?"

Mario shrugs. "Because it's too cold?"

SMG4 face palms. "I forgot; you don't think."

"Awww :(" Mario frowns. "Thats mean :(("

"Dude, SMG3 and I literally have sex in that episode."

"And?"

SMG4 blinks.

Mario blinks in return.

"AND WE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN REMAKE THAT? What do you want me to say?" SMG4 exclaims.

"You didn't enjoy it?" Mario asks.

SMG4's face turns bright red. "MARIO!! Why the hell would you ask that?!"

Mario blinks. He grins. "You're avoiding the question"

"I'm not answering the question. I'm not remaking Snowtrapped, period. SMG3 and I could never relive those events again."

Mario blinks one eye after the other, like a frog.

"Do you like him?" Mario asks out of the blue.

"Huh??" SMG4 says, red creeping on his face.

"Do you like SMG3?" Mario asks.

"I mean, yeah... as a... friend, of course."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Mario's eyes narrow, and his head widens as he stares directly into SMG4's soul. "Mario doesn't buy it."

"What? What do you mean?!"

"I think you are gay :)"

"No. Also can you stop talking in emoticons?" SMG4 sighs.

"Come on!! I'm pretty sure you like him in a gay way"

"Why do you have to say it like that?"

"huh"

"...Nevermind. No, I don't like him like that." SMG4 chuckles, like he's trying to gaslight himself into believing the words he says. "Why would I? He berates me every day, I can't stand him sometimes... Why would I be in love with someone who constantly tries to do some bullshit to piss me off?"

"But when you do get along, what then?"

SMG4 opens his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I just... I..."

Mario smiles really wide. "Youuuu liiikkkeee himmmm!"

"Mario, quit it!"

"Youuu dooooo :)"

"MARIO!"

"Youuuu likeee yourr rivaaaaalll :)))))"

SMG4 sighs, tired of trying to convince Mario otherwise. "Fine, you caught me. Yes, I may or may not have developed a crush on SMG3..."

Mario gasps with the utmost glee in his eyes.

"I KNEW IT!"

"Yeah, but you BETTER NOT TELL A SOUL!!" SMG4 puts a firm hand on Mario's shoulder and points at him aggressively.

Mario frowns. "you're no fun"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I just don't want word to spread and for SMG3 to find out. Then he will really hate me, and not in the joking way he usually does."

"You think he hates you?" Mario tilts his head

"...Not really, but..."

"Then tell him!" Mario says.

"Haha, hell no. He is my rival, and even though we're able to... tolerate... each other for enough time, but SMG3 is very keen to remind me that we are 'rivals', and refuses to admit that we are friends, no matter how much we get close to admitting we are friends."

SMG4 looks down. "I do really like him, I just... I have no way of knowing if he does like me at all, and if he is being serious when he shit talks me. Maybe he thinks and talks about how stupid I am when I'm not hanging out with him. He probably hates me, with how much he berates me. Why would I want someone who hates me?"

Mario blinks. "You are dumping all this info on someone who has zero advice for you" he says.

SMG4 smiles sadly. "My bad. I just... it's been eating me up inside, I just wanted to vent about it."

"Its ok :) mario can try to give advice if you want!" Mario says.

SMG4 sighs. "Go ahead."

"Mario thinks that if SMG3 hated you so much, he wouldn't go out of his way to be around you"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"He frequently shows up to hang out with you, he saves you, he talks about you a lot..."

"Wait, he does?"

"Yeah! I was waiting to get a bomb at his coffee shop and he was in a corner writing in his journal again, and he was saying everything he was writing out loud; he was saying 'I'm excited to hang out with smg4 tomorrow, we gonna play some gmod together and im totally gonna beat his ass at prop hunt, hes gonna be so mad itll be so funny, seeing his face so angry is so entertaining-' and then he stopped writing cuz he saw me waiting for my bomb order and he shoo'd me out of there and i didn't get my bomb"

SMG4 blushes. "Huh. So, he does shit talk me outside of my earshot, but in a positive way..." He smiles ear to ear. "Mario, honestly, I cannot believe I'm saying this, but your advice actually helped. I think my intrusive thoughts were just trying to lie to me. I needed to hear that."

"Yay! Mario's glad he could help :)" Mario says, smiling. "This is my character development! I am therapist :)"

SMG4 chuckles. "Mario, I would not trust you as a therapist 100% of the time."

Mario smirks. "But you can trust SMG3 as your therapist-"

SMG4 punches Mario's arm "Shush. This stays between us, okay?"

"yeah B) i gotchu"

"Thanks, man."

---

Segment 2: SMG3 and Meggy

---

Meggy steps into SMG3's coffee shop, 3's Coffee and Bombs. The cafe was very empty, there was little to no people there.

"Hello? SMG3?" she calls out.

SMG3 pops out from the kitchen.

"Ah, Meggy! Welcome to 3's Coffee and Bomb's!" SMG3 exclaims with a grand flourish. "How may I serve you?"

"Hey dude, I came here two days ago," Meggy says, deadpan. "You don't need to make a grand spectacle everytime I show up."

"Yeah, yeah. What'll it be? Coffee or bombs?"

"I'd like some coffee today. I think I'm gonna go for some black coffee today."

"Daring today, aren't we?" SMG3 says, in a sarcastic tone.

"Look, I'm trying to expand my horizons. Try new things. Every time I drink coffee, it's sweet as hell. I'mma take something bitter for once."

"If you say so," SMG3 says.

SMG3 makes Meggy her coffee and Meggy gives him his money. SMG3's watch beeps.

"Oh! Looks like it's break time!" he says.

"Nice! Care to join me?" Meggy suggests.

"Sure, why not," SMG3 says, shrugging. He makes himself some coffee of his own and sits at a table across from Meggy.

"I heard you have plans on doing a stream collab with SMG4 today," Meggy comments. "You guys are playing Gmod, right?"

"Yeah!" SMG3 sips his coffee. "I'm gonna kick his ass in prop hunt. He will be so pissed."

"Haha, I see," Meggy says, taking a sip of her coffee. She spits it back into the cup.

"Rude," SMG3 frowns.

"It's not that you're bad at making coffee, it's that black coffee isn't the right coffee for me," Meggy responds, also frowninh. "Don't take so much offense to everything."

"Welp." SMG3 leans back in his chair. "I'm excited. I can't wait to absolutely destroy his ass in games I'm goated at."

"Aren't you just happy you get to hang out with 4?" Meggy remarks.

"...Hanging out with him to make him look like a loser on stream, yes!" SMG3 responds.

Meggy smirks. "I think you do enjoy his company."

SMG3 studies a speck on the ceiling. "Says who?"

"Says me. I know you like him."

SMG3's face immediately turns bright red.

"NUH UH!" SMG3 exclaims. "He's stupid and a moron and a loser! W-why would I be attracted to a- a loser like him?!"

Meggy looks him dead in the eye. "I was gonna say opposites attract, but you guys are both oblivious AND obvious dumbasses, so you guys have more in common than you like to admit."

SMG3 looks away. "I don't like him. He probably hates me, with how much I berate him. Why would I want someone who hates me?"

Meggy smiles.

"3, I think 4 is just as in love with you as you are with him."

"What makes you think I like him?" quizzes SMG3.

"Oh, you constantly talk about how excited you are to do anything with him, you pout when he's not around, and you're usually the first person to try to instigate helping him as soon as he's in trouble," Meggy recounts.

SMG3 blushes. "We're Meme Guardians; if one of us isn't around, our powers are very minimal. I'm just looking out for him because I don't know what happens to one Meme Guardian the moment his counterpart is dead, and I don't want to find out."

"Awww, you care about him!" Meggy smiles.

"Just talk to him, dumbass," Meggy said. "He usually functions better once people communicate their issues with him. If you ask if you take things too far, and if he feels hurt by your words, talking it out is the right thing."

"Shush. So what if I do? He would never like me back. He probably can't stand me. I berate and belittle him too much. I know, I know, it's bad, but... I don't know how to communicate appreciation to people I care about. Teasing is all I know, but I never know if I've pushed it's limit-"

"But that's so difficult! I'm no good at communication!" SMG3 complains.

"You're a therapist! This is the type of advice you give your patients!" Meggy responds.

"I'm a hypocrite!" SMG3 wails.

"Look, just talk to him at some point. Maybe after the stream is over, just take some time out of your day to figure out how SMG4 feels about your constant teasing, then go from there."

"Yeah. Y'know what, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks Meggy."

"No problem! And, while you're at it, you should totally go for it!" Meggy exclaims, beaming.

"Meggy..." SMG3 sighs.

"I know you like him, you can't keep hiding."

SMG3 groans even louder.

"Yes, but you tell no one, okay?" SMG3 orders.

"Of course," Meggy says, smiling.

---

SMG4 and SMG3 are up in SMG4's office, playing and streaming Gmod shenanigans. Mario is sitting on the couch in the gaming room, watching TV. Meggy comes in and joins Mario on the couch.

"SMG4 and SMG3 can't be any more obvious, can they?" she remarks.

"they gay as hell," Mario agrees.

"3 confirmed he does like 4," Meggy says.

Mario laughs maliciously.

"What?" asks Meggy.

"mario also got SMG4 to confirm he likes 3 >:)," Mario says.

"Ha," Meggy says, "Cool. Do you think they'll ever actually get together?"

"hmmmmmm, Maybe!" Mario answers. "But if they don't, it's incredibly funny to watch their gay struggling, so we can keep watching it for a while"

"I like your thinking, Red," Meggy smirks. "Let's just let them be for the time being."

[ilovemensthings]

Healing Touch [Daryl Dixon]

pairing: Daryl Dixon x gn!reader

warnings: gunshot wounds, swearing; fluff

The air was thick with tension as the group trudged through the dense forest, each step a reminder of the world they had come to know. Daryl led the way, his crossbow held ready, his senses sharp. You followed close behind, your own weapon at the ready.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, shattering the eerie silence. Daryl's body jerked as the bullet pierced his shoulder, and he fell to the ground with a grunt. Your heart raced as you rushed to his side, dropping to your knees beside him.

"Daryl shit! Are you okay?" Panic laced your voice as you assessed the wound.

He gritted his teeth, his face contorted in pain. "Yeah, I've had worse."

Without hesitation, you tore a strip of fabric from your shirt and pressed it against the wound to staunch the bleeding. Daryl's jaw clenched as he stifled a groan, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of pain and gratitude.

"Stay still, Daryl," you commanded softly, your focus solely on your task. The world around you faded as you worked, your fingers gentle yet sure. The others watched from a distance, offering support from afar.

Daryl's breathing began to steady as the bleeding slowed, and you took a moment to exhale, relieved. "Okay, I've got the bleeding under control. Now we need to get you back to camp so I can properly clean and bandage this."

He nodded, his gaze never leaving your face. "Thanks," he mumbled, his gruff voice carrying a rare vulnerability.

With the help of the others, you managed to get Daryl back to camp. As night fell, you sat beside him, tending to his wound by the flickering light of the fire. Your fingers were gentle as they worked, and Daryl's eyes remained locked onto you, his expression a mix of gratitude and something more.

"Sorry you have to deal with this," he muttered, his voice low.

You smiled softly. "Hey, it's what we do for each other, right? We're a team."

He smirked, a hint of his usual tough exterior showing through. "Guess so."

The days turned into nights, and you cared for Daryl with unwavering dedication. You cleaned his wound, changed his bandages, and ensured he took his antibiotics. In those quiet moments, your connection deepened, the unspoken words between you becoming louder than ever.

As Daryl's strength returned, he started to help out around camp once more, but there was something different about the way he looked at you now. A certain tenderness, a newfound appreciation.

One evening, as the two of you sat by the fire, he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "Thanks for patchin' me up," he said, his voice a soft rasp.

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. "Anytime, Daryl. I've got your back."

As the fire crackled and the night wrapped its arms around the camp, Daryl's grip on your hand tightened. He cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames before he turned to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours.

"Y'know, this whole mess we're in... it's made me realize some things," he began, his words slow and deliberate.

You furrowed your brow slightly, curiosity mingling with the warmth in your heart. "What things, Daryl?"

His thumb brushed over your hand as he gathered his thoughts. "I ain't never been one for words, but bein' around you, takin' care of me the way you have... it's made me see things different. I've been tryin' to deny it, but I can't no more."

Your heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on you. Could he really be saying what you thought he was?

"Daryl?" you prompted gently, your voice barely a whisper.

He looked at you, his expression soft yet resolute. "I care about you, more than I've cared about anyone. It's like... you've become the anchor I didn't know I needed. And I ain't good at this, but I need you to know, I love you."

A rush of emotions swelled within you, a mixture of surprise, joy, and an overwhelming sense of affection. Your eyes glistened as you squeezed his hand, feeling the weight of his words and the vulnerability he had shared.

"Daryl, I love you too," you admitted, your voice carrying the truth of your feelings. "And I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

A shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his tough exterior giving way to the man he was beneath it all. "Guess we're a pair, then."

With a mixture of tenderness and certainty, you leaned closer, your lips brushing against his in a sweet, heartfelt kiss. In that moment, surrounded by the backdrop of a world turned upside down, you found solace in each other's arms, a love that had grown through adversity and trials.

As you pulled away, Daryl's fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch gentle and affectionate. "We'll keep fightin', survivin', and lovin'... together."

And in the midst of the chaos that had become the new normal, you held onto each other, united by a love that not even the harshest of circumstances could break.

[annabawritersdream]

Hallmark Christmas Fanfic

Prompt: Hallmark Christmas fanfic=>“Almost kiss but somebody walks in.” [Prompt provided by @lucifers-legions]

Title: My One & Only

Characters: Éomer, Lothíriel, Éothain

Pairings: Éomer x Lothíriel

CW: none

Synopsis: Éomer and Lothíriel are decorating the Christmas tree and discussing

gingerbread houses when an unannounced visitor shows up at their place.

Word count: (AO3 stats=>3,297 words)

Also posted on AO3!

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION AND NOTES

This is my first time writing Éomer and Lothíriel, so I really don't know what I am doing. I usually struggle when it comes to writing canon pairings, which is why I mostly tend to focus on my OCs and the few canon characters I feel I know how to write. The prompt was suggested by my friend and Tumblr mutual luciferslegions (@lucifers-legions on Tumblr) as a part of a Hallmark roulette game she came up with. The participants were meant to write a story based on two random canon characters and a random prompt. I got Éothíriel (I suppose I was lucky) and my prompt was "Almost kiss, but somebody walks in." I am generally not very good at writing couples, kissing scenes, smut and the likes, but this was something I felt I could try my hand at. I hope it's not too bad/cringy and if it is...be kind about it. Do let me know what you think ( I am all for honesty and transparency), but, please, be civil about it.

Also, Lothíriel's last name is Swann in this (Yes, like Elizabeth Swann from Pirates of the Caribbean). Originally it was supposed to be "Amroth", but then I thought Swann was a much better fit, both because it sounds much more like a modern last name and because…y'know, the Swan Knights of Dol Amroth. I decided to go with Éomer Eorl because…it sounds good to me.

That being said, I hope you enjoy the story!

My One & Only

“I think we are finished.”

Lothíriel Swann stood on her toes as she attempted to carefully place the newly-chosen ornament—a giant golden swan—on the very top of the huge Christmas tree her boyfriend, Éomer Eorl, had gifted her a few weeks prior. Although he had enjoyed decorating the house with lights, wreaths, stockings and ribbons, he failed to understand why he should put so much effort into embellishing a pine tree that would eventually have to be discarded. He quite simply could not wrap his head around it and had tried to reason with his girlfriend about it. Unfortunately, Lothíriel would not hear of it, and had forced him to participate in what he considered to be an unnecessarily strenuous and laborious activity. He had set up the tree for her and had patiently helped choose the most beautiful ornaments, which included several handmade horse-shaped knick-knacks. Those very same ornaments had been a Christmas present from Lothíriel and Éomer had grinned in satisfaction.

Although he loathed Christmas trees, he adored gifts and had surprised Lothíriel with plenty of them. She usually could not do without formal gowns and pearl necklaces and Éomer had made sure she received them in abundance. She was now wearing the latest dress he had gifted her—a silk gown matching her dark hair—and a silver bracelet was visible on her wrist. Éomer’s gifts also included the triple strand white pearl necklace presently adorning her neck and the tiny moon-shaped earrings she had slept on. She usually removed her make-up and took off all of her jewelry before bed, yet, because she had fallen asleep on the couch after crying her eyes out over a rom-com of which Éomer could not even remember the title, she had neglected to do so and had woken up complaining of an excruciating headache supposedly due to sleep deprivation. While Éomer had initially laughed it off, he had been quick to change his tune after meeting his girlfriend’s piercing gray eyes. She was vexed—terribly vexed—and a single look from her had been enough to convince him to run off to the kitchen to make her a kale smoothie. Despite being a voracious meat eater, he supported Lothíriel’s decision to follow a plant-based diet and often cooked her breakfast separately. Contrarily to his girlfriend, he had always been an early bird and found that waking up at dawn suited him much better than sleeping in. He started his mornings with a cup of black coffee and devoured a giant egg, bacon and cheese sandwich before hitting the gym. He believed in keeping fit and, because Lothiriel appeared to greatly appreciate his abs among a plethora of physical and intellectual attributes he seemingly possessed, he trained hard and diligently. Though he usually displayed a tough persona, he was sensitive and insecure at heart. While it was true that he sometimes struggled to show it, he truly loved Lothíriel and he feared losing her. She was a gem, and he dreaded the day she would be snatched away from him. He did not doubt it would happen. He knew all about her many admirers back in her hometown and was aware of his inferiority. He was reminded of it every day. All of his girlfriend’s suitors happened to be way richer and influential than he would ever be and thought of Lothíriel possibly eloping with one of them caused him immense distress.

Although he was himself affluent, he despised people flaunting an extravagant lifestyle and much preferred to work rather than lounging around in mansions accomplishing nothing and, thankfully, Lothíriel seemed to share his opinion on such matter. Despite appearances, she was a well-rounded girl who took delight in the simple things life had to offer. She adored sipping hot chocolate in her pajamas and was her happiest at the local animal shelter. Although at first fearful of horses, she had learned to coexist peacefully with them, which pleased Éomer greatly. He was involved in several horse-trading businesses and had grown up in his family’s country home, tending to chickens and horses being very much a pivotal part of his daily life. He had been raised among strays and indoor pets and was beyond pleased to see Lothíriel trying to overcome her anxiety and spontaneously interacting with them. None of her friends in Dol Amroth—former college roommates and childhood pals alike—seemed to have a penchant for nature and country life. They were club goers who drove around in expensive cars and squandered money because they could afford it. Lothíriel had vouched for them, but,judging by the way her jaw tightened whenever she spoke about them, she too thought them to be shallow and worthless. Éomer remembered that conversation; a casual chat as they drove back to Rohan after spending a few weeks with Lothíriel’s relatives. He had become acquainted with her brothers and her aunts and had enjoyed fishing with her father. Imrahil Swann, a rather well-known entrepreneur, had at first disliked the young blond boy his only daughter seemed to be so keen on. Despite wearing his finest suit and having an undeniable presence to him, Imrahil had immediately sensed that he would not at all fit into the world the Swann family was a part of. Though he had grown to like him, he still doubted his relationship with his daughter would last.

Little did he know that Éomer wished to marry her. He had been playing all night with the engagement ring, which he had carefully hidden in the pocket of his jacket and had intended to wait until Christmas to propose. He would so on Christmas Eve after attempting to cook a scrumptious dinner. Or perhaps he should ask for her hand during dinner. He had not yet decided the dynamics of the affair and had not even written or practiced his speech, but he knew it would happen one way or another. He just needed to wait for inspiration to strike. He just needed to wait for the right moment…

“Darling?”

Éomer blinked and let out a sigh as he pensively ran hand through his hair. “Yes? Have you…”

He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Have you said anything?”

Lothíriel frowned, visibly confused. “Are you alright?”

“Of course.”

“Have you been listening to me?”

“I…”

“What is it? Why are you sulking?”

“I am not,” he retorted. “I…”

“I thought you liked setting up the tree with me. We can certainly spend our time together doing something else if you are bored.”

“I am not bored; I was simply thinking.”

Lothíriel hugged him. “What were you thinking about?”

Éomer gulped. He certainly could not tell her the truth and quick thinking had never been his forte. His eyes wandered around as she tightened her grip around his waist, his heartbeat quickening.

“I was…admiring your beauty. You have never looked better.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and giggled. “I never thought you would have such great taste in clothing and jewelry. If I look pretty today—or any day, for that matter—it is only because of you.”

“That is a stretch, my dear.”

She caressed his face. “Not at all, my love. You constantly spoil me.”

“It is my duty. I am your boyfriend, after all.”

“Oh, you are indeed.”

She smiled at him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Could you help me with the gingerbread house and the chocolate chip cookies? Christmas is only a few days away and I am so behind schedule.”

“Did I hear you say gingerbread house?”

“You heard it correctly.”

Éomer chuckled. “Forgive me, darling. I am a bit surprised.”

“What is wrong with gingerbread houses?”

He raised an eyebrow. “As far as I know, you loathe ginger in any shape or form.”

“It is not for me to eat.”

“I am confused. Who is it for? You know very well that I don’t particularly like…”

“Elboron adores gingerbread and so does your sister. I thought it would be a nice gift.”

“I am ashamed to admit I had not even thought of my sister and my nephew. I am a horrible uncle.”

“Elboron loves you very much. You shouldn’t beat yourself too much over it. He won’t kill you if you show up to my cousin’s house empty-handed. That is, if you play with him all night and read him his favorite bedtime story.”

“Elboron may not kill me, but I cannot say the same about my sister.”

“She seems so kind, I doubt she would…”

“How much time have you spent with her in your lifetime?”

“Why would you ask?”

“Well, I…”

“I may not know her all that well, but she was always nice to me.”

“You are not related to her, are you not?”

A wide-eyed Lothíriel stared at him. “What are you trying to imply?”

“I grew up with her.”

“And? What about it?”

“She delighted in reprimanding me when we were children and her attitude over the years has not changed in the slightest.”

“Perhaps you deserved it.”

Éomer rolled his eyes. “May I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead, my love.”

“Must you always side with my sister?”

“I trust her judgement.”

“What about my judgement? My sister is brash and impulsive, I am known for my common sense.”

“Is that so?”

“A few people could testify in my favor.”

“Pray tell me, my love. Would those people be those friends of yours from your military days?”

“I have tons of friends, my shining star. And, yes, I would definitely count them in. They are all responsible people with whom I have a history of camaraderie.”

“Which is precisely why I would not trust them.”

“Why would you…”

“I’d rather ask Faramir.”

“You are just messing with me right now, Lothy. I was serious.”

“So was I.”

She grinned and smirked. “Faramir cannot lie. He is impartial and would never take sides.”

“Do I need to remind you that he is a law student?”

“And a very good one, at that.”

He glared at her before the corners of his mouth eventually turned upward.

“I presume you are aware that taking sides is what all that he will do once he graduates. It is the bulk of his chosen career.”

“Of course I am aware of it, my silly little pumpkin head. I only meant to say that he would never meddle in family affairs.”

“What did you call me? Pumpkin head? If you must insult me, at least try and come up with something a bit more Christmassy. It’s been more than few weeks since Halloween.”

"Nothing comes to mind at the moment, my love. I will look through a dictionary and then I'll let you know. What else were you going to say about my cousin? I know you were about to say something else, darling. Don't be shy."

“He...he has a laid-back vibe about him, I am not going to lie. I am rather fond of him.”

“I am glad to hear it. Faramir and I are pretty close and I really hoped you would get along.”

“I like him. He’s learned and intelligent. I still have no idea how he persuaded my sister to marry, but I applaud his effort.”

He paused. “Then again, he is studying to become a lawyer. He must certainly have a way with words.”

“Are you suggesting he tricked her into marriage?”

“I am saying nothing of the sort. It is just that…”

He sighed. “Why don’t we get started on the gingerbread house?”

He turned and walked toward the kitchen, Lothíriel strutting behind him. “Wait.”

Éomer froze and turned back, Lothíriel’s eyes cold and stern. He gulped.

“What is it? What have I done?”

Lothíriel did not reply, her gaze fixed on him. Éomer stumbled backwards, a shiver running down his spine.

“I did not mean to offend your cousin. As I mentioned earlier, I have a great deal of respect for him and I could never slander him. He’s my sister’s husband and…”

His jaw was clenched. “I just…sometimes I…”

He cleared his throat and exhaled, his lower lip quivering. “I feel as if…”

He leaned on the wall behind him, his hands shaking Lothíriel’s features softened as she held his arm. “What is going on?”

He gulped once more.

“Will I ever be enough for you? Will my love ever be enough? Your friends in Dol Amroth are all so accomplished and I…”

“Éomer…”

“Your father, your brothers, your cousin…”

“Why are you comparing yourself to them?”

“I don’t think I…”

“Had I wanted to stay in Dol Amroth, I would have made it known. Had I wished to date someone else, I would have told you. Yet I didn’t.”

“I cannot understand why one as beautiful as you would be with someone like me.”

“I never agreed with the theory stating that blond people are stupid, yet I may have to retract my statement. You truly are an idiot.”

The light in his eyes was quenched; his hand reaching for the ring in his pocket. He closed his fist around him, his head tilted to the side.

“I am sorry. I should have…”

“And, on top of it, you should get your eyesight checked because I am positive that you are blind. I should buy you a cane.”

“Why are you being so mean all of a sudden? Do you agree with them?”

“I see now.” She quipped. “A cane is indeed an appropriate choice of gift.”

“Just answer my question please. There is no need to mock me.”

“Have you ever heard of sarcasm?”

“Lothíriel…”

“Either you are blind or you’ve never owned a mirror, darling. Probably both.”

“Please stop it.”

“Why can’t you see it!?”

“See what, Lothíriel? What is it that you would like me to realize!? You want me to admit that I am not worthy of you, that you wasted your time, your youth, your…”

“I want you to realize what a gorgeous, remarkable, intelligent young man you are.”

She breathed in. “I want you to realize that there is no other I would ever even consider being with. I want you to realize that you are the only man on the planet that I would ever be prevailed upon to marry. I want you to realize that I have been dreaming of our lives together ever since we were introduced at that silly Christmas buffet two years ago. I want you to realize that I would like for us to start a family as soon as possible.” She looked at him. “You are my one and only, Éomer Eorl. Ever since I glanced at you, I knew you were the man for me and I am so grateful I went out of my way to attend that buffet.” She chuckled. “I suppose I should thank my aunt Ivriniel for her persuasion skills.”

“You…you really mean it? You truly want to…marry me?”

Lothíriel rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek before he had time to come up with any more nonsense. He blushed, his eyes now wide.

“Oh my, you are so cute.” She scratched his blonde stubble. “Also, please, don’t forget to shave.”

Éomer frowned. “I thought you liked my beard.”

A smirk appeared on Lothíriel’s face. “I love everything about you, my love. Even so, your beard irritates my skin.”

“Must I shave before kissing you?”

“It would be much appreciated.”

She sighed. “For the record, I do think Faramir would side with your sister. If she ever crosses the line, she will have to face me. My wrath can be as deadly as hers.”

“I have never seen you angry.”

“Be thankful for it, my darling. Be thankful.” She leaned on him. “Do we really have to make the gingerbread house?”

“We don’t have to unless we want you.”

“Elboron will be so disappointed…”

“He’ll get over it. He is my sister’s son and he is nearly as strong-willed and stubborn as she is, but he’ll survive. He is still getting chocolate chip cookies after all, is he not?”

“Oh yes. I will happily make those. I love chocolate.”

“I will help you. Just try not to eat all the dough by yourself.”

“I do not know if I can help it.”

“Share some with be, I beg you.”

“I shall think about it.”

“What is there to think about?”

“I was told you may be on the naughty list and I don’t plan to share anything with naughty boys.”

“Me? Naughty? I am the nicest boy who ever lived!”

“Are you though? Are you really?”

“I…”

“You certainly deserve a kiss, then.”

“I haven’t shaved…”

“It matters not.”

She cupped her cheeks and brought her face close to his, her eyes fixed on his lips. She moved her even closer to and he slightly bent his knees and picked her up. It was then that they both heard a loud knock. They turned abruptly as someone cried out their names. Éomer clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes.

“I so wish murder was allowed.”

Éothain, Eomer’s cousin, was standing  by the window. Éomer folded his arms and glared at him while Lothíriel rushed to the door. She quickly opened it and greeted him warmly as he handed her the tray.

“Do come in! It is cold outside!”

Éothain took off his boots. “My truck wouldn’t start so I had to walk all the way here. I am sorry to disturb, but I thought you’d like some leftover turkey and some roasted vegetables I made for lunch. I know my cousin is fond of them.” He winked at him. “Hello, cousin!”

“My girlfriend and I were having a moment and you…”

“I am sorry! How was supposed to know you were about to make out?”

“We were NOT about to make out.”

Éothain’s eyes widened. “Were you perhaps about to…ugh…”

“NO!”

“There is need to shout, cousin, my hearing is perfectly fine!”

“Why are you here, Éothain!?”

“I told you, I just wanted to say hi and bring in some leftovers. I also happen to have a gingerbread recipe which someone told me may be useful in this household.”

Lothíriel froze, her hands nearly dropping the tray.

“YOU.”

“Yes?”

“SHARE IT AT ONCE. PLEASE. HELP ME.”

“It would be my pleasure, my lady.”

He jokingly bowed to her and laughed, Éomer tossing a cushion at him. Éothain looked at him, bewildered. “Why did you…? Where did you find that?”

“I saw you were busy talking to my girlfriend so I took the liberty to go to the sitting room to fetch something to shut you up.”

“It hurt, cousin. Please don’t you ever do it again.”

“It was the comfiest, fluffiest cushion I could find!”

“It still hurt!”

Oh, don’t be a baby.”

“I am just saying that…”

Lothíriel stomped her feet. “Would you mind helping me in the kitchen?”

She glanced at Éothain. “I am going to need help. Come with me.”

“What about…?”

“My most excellent boyfriend can finish decorating the guest room upstairs. It is his favorite holiday activity. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Éomer’s face dropped.

“I thought we were finished with the tree.”

“Oh, yes, the tree needs no more embellishments. I reckon it is perfect as it is. All the rooms on the second floor need lights though.”

“Lothy…”

“Off you go, darling.”

Éomer sighed.

 “Fine. As you wish.”

Lothíriel and Éothain soon disappeared into the kitchen. Éomer hesitated and lounged on the couch until an overwhelming sense of guilt took over him. He then hurried up the stairs, mumbling and scoffing at nearly every step.

“I hate Christmas. I really do hate it.”

Faceclaims:

Karl Urban as Éomer

Katie McGrath as Lothíriel

This is more or less the dress I though she'd be wearing on such an occasion. Cute, classy and elegant.

Arnas Fedaravicious as Éothain (as he does not appear in any other writings of mine, I sort of picked a random dude so that he would have a face, but, on second thoughts, he doesn't look too bad. He'd make a good Éothain. Although I don't plan for him to show up in my Middle-earth AUs…I mean, why not. Who knows. Why shouldn't I include him in my writings? He only needs a storyline that makes sense).

That's it! I hope you liked it and…Happy Holidays, everyone!

Tags:

@lucifers-legions

@emmanuellececchi

@saurongorthaur9

@tolkienocweek

[loviestyless]

Bloodied Shadows*

summary: when harry is looking for inspiration for his next novel, he stumbles across a house with a sinister past and well, you know what they say - curiosity killed the cat.

inspired by american horror story’s murder house

warnings: themes of horror, blood, violence, murder, smut: mxm pairing, choking, hand job, sub!harry

i wrote this for halloween last year and really loved writing something darker than i usually do so felt like sharing it here too. Hope you enjoy!

The misty moors of the English countryside rolled past the window in an endless sea of autumnal browns against the dark grey sky looming above. A distant chill clawed against the taxi window, threatening to clasp its grip around the curious man watching the world go by. There was not a single soul around except for the silent man in the driver's seat - the promise of solitude growing ever closer the further out of town they ventured.

A deep sigh breathed past Harry's lips as he ran his ringed fingers through his unruly curls, phone pressed against his ear as he reluctantly listened to his manager reminding him of the clauses in the contract he'd signed last year.

"We agreed you'll have the first draft on my desk by the end of this month and you've decided to take a little trip out of town?" Keith's unimpressed voice filtered through the phone, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "You don't have time for dirty weekends away with your girlfriend, Harry."

The man forced himself to bite back the scoff threatening to rumble from the back of his throat at his manager's words, knowing it would do nothing to get him back in Keith's good graces. Glancing at the empty seat next to him, Harry forced himself to find the humour in his manager's assumption to avoid the overwhelming stress of knocking out the first few chapters of his novel overnight. If Keith had bothered to check his emails, he would have known Harry was using this escape to the countryside to search for inspiration. It was purely work related and he was fairly confident that by the end of the night, he'd have a solid plan to break through this current bout of writer's block.

"I promise, first thing tomorrow morning the draft will be in your inbox." He grumbled; his tone almost bored as Keith continued to rattle on without even acknowledging what Harry had said.

"If you needed extra time, you should have told me sooner. Maybe then I could've negotiated something with your publisher. I can't work miracles, Harry. This only works if you communicate-"

A dull tone cut off Keith in the middle of his lecture and with a quick glance at his screen, Harry quickly discovered there was no longer any signal.

Outside, the stretches of rolling fields had changed into one singular stretch of road surrounded by the confinement of a never-ending line of decayed trees shedding their orange leaves. Harry supposed it was a blessing being so isolated from the outside world, he could focus on meeting his deadline without the constant distraction of his phone ringing every five minutes.

The screeching of the car's brakes caught the writer's attention as they slowed to a complete stop in the middle of nowhere. A frown creased his brows as he peered out the window at the stretch of misty grey land outside, wondering what had caused such an unexpected stop in their journey. The google maps tab open on Harry's phone said he was still ten minutes from his intended destination.

"This is where the road ends, you'll have to go the rest of the way by foot."

"Y'know, this is like every stereotype in every horror movie ever made, right?" Harry scoffed rudely, folding his arms across his chest as he threw the driver an unimpressed stare in the rear-view mirror. He'd heard the rumours about where he was going but they were so ridiculous he didn't expect anyone to actually believe them. "Let me guess, you're about to warn me I'm in grave danger and it's not too late to turn back."

"Selly House is no joke, mate. Every unsolved murder in the area has been linked to that place, nobody that goes in comes out alive." The driver warned, genuine fear present in his gaze as he took in the scepticism lacing Harry's features.

"Yeah whatever." The writer sighed, knowing there was no use trying to argue. He'd seen enough horror films to know he'd end up flat on his ass in the middle of the road with his bags at his feet while the driver sped off in the opposite direction as fast as he could. "How much do I owe you?"

Minutes later, Harry was pulling his puffer jacket tighter around his body as the cold threatened to steal the air right from his lungs while he continued to sort out his bags the driver had dumped on the floor. The rumble of an engine speeding away echoed in the distance, mingling with the sharp cries of the crows flying overhead. If Harry was the type to read into things, he would be unnerved by the lack of civilization around him, but luckily this was the exact kind of solitude he was seeking for his novel.

Already his mind was running havoc with ideas simply from his surroundings, and his shoulders loosened with relief as he felt ready to start writing. Weeks of staring at an empty notebook had left him drained, pushing him further into a slump that had him convinced his whole career was a mistake - that the success of his previous novel had been a fluke.

But the fresh air biting at his skin, causing his cheeks to flush pink, snapped him back into reality. Made his creativity come alive again. And this was before he'd even stepped a foot past the threshold of the infamous murder house that lay dormant a couple of miles down the road.

When researching potential places that could inspire a dark storyline for his latest thriller, Selly House had popped up on Google too many times for the writer to ignore. Spending an entire evening delving into the history of the house led Harry down a path seeped in murder, unsolved crimes and mysterious disappearances. Centuries of ghost stories, rumours of shadows dancing in the dark and whispers of temptation drawing unsuspecting guests through the doors lit the flame of curiosity in Harry's mind.

He had never believed in ghosts, ghouls and so-called unexplainable events. Horror movies were predictable and Halloween was just another excuse for retail companies to make a shit tonne of money. It was an ironic mindset for someone who had spent the past year making money off writing a chilling horror novel but it was something he was good at even if he felt it was all a bunch of nonsense. Anything to pay the bills...

Naturally, once the writer had heard the stories, read the newspaper reports, he was intrigued. He needed to know what elements of this house sparked such fear in the local community and made it so famous. Once he discovered the roots of these childish ghost tales that haunted the town of Selly, Harry had the perfect setting for his own novel.

And what better time to get a feel of the place than Halloween night.

His plan was fool proof. Nobody dared go within five miles of the house so he would be able to sneak in undetected, nose about the decrepit ruins for a bit before settling down by the dim light of his torch to spend all night completing a draft of the first few chapters. It would be silent and he could finally get some work done without his phone constantly ringing, demanding his attention.

Heaving his backpack over his shoulder, Harry let out a quiet sigh as he began trudging his way down the road in the direction google maps pointed him. He scoffed to himself as he noticed the road he was currently on led directly up to the driveway of the house with no sign of it abruptly ending like the driver had implied.

Not a single soul was around, all that accompanied Harry on his walk were the echoes of his own footsteps and the crows squawking up above, seemingly following him in his journey. Misty rain was suddenly upon the man, dampening his curls and making him pull the hood of his jumper over his head to protect himself from the weather.

"Fucking English weather." He grumbled to himself, wiping his phone screen against his jeans in an attempt to clear the little drops of water making it difficult to see the map.

Bringing it back out in front of him, the screen was completely black. Tapping it gently, the writer hoped to wake it back up again but was left staring at his own reflection on the blank screen. Rolling his eyes, he tried pressing the side button but had no success.

If he hadn't had a full battery upon stepping out the taxi, he would've assumed his phone was just dead. But there was nothing to explain why it had suddenly stopped working.

Cursing to himself he angrily shoved the useless device back into his coat pocket, hoping he'd be able to fix it once he got to his destination. However, in his own arrogance when looking into the house, he'd failed to note the accounts of all modern technology suddenly rendered useless around the house.

With nothing but his own company, Harry began to hum to himself, hoping to pass the boring walk a little quicker. The shadow of a tall, gothic building loomed prominent against the deep grey sky, serving as a guide for Harry to follow. Even from a distance it wasn't hard to recognise what struck such fear among those in the area.

Despite spending almost half a century abandoned, Selly House looked just as new as it had the day the building had been completed. There were no signs of disrepair, no overgrown ivy snaking up the stone walls and the front gardens were all properly cared for. The sight alone made Harry stop dead in his tracks, confusion knitting his brows together as he muttered his thoughts under his breath.

Surely this was the right place?

Glancing behind him briefly, the man tried to gauge his surroundings. It made no sense.

There was not a single soul that would dare enter the grounds of Selly House, not since the gruesome murder-suicide that had taken place fifty years ago on this exact date. After decades of murders and disappearances linked to those who lived in the house, the deaths of Ethel and Rowan Montague had shaken the community so deeply that the town council had agreed to never let the house be put back up for sale again.

In that time, you would expect the outside to at least appear a little weathered, especially with the number of storms this part of the countryside faced.

A crow squawked above, feathers fluttering as it swooped close enough to Harry to make him flinch before landing atop the iron gates. Its yellow eyes stared at him, unmoving as if waiting for Harry to take another step forward. Daring him to enter the grounds.

The writer shook his head, snickering to himself slightly at how cliche this all seemed and the fact he had for a split second briefly entertained the idea of turning back around.

He was getting too inside his head about this, it was a house that had an infamous past - of course it was going to be a little unnerving. But he knew that when planning this trip. He wasn't coming for a relaxing weekend away; he was coming to be scared. For the house to prove itself to him so could use that material for his own personal gain.

Suck it up, buttercup.

Taking a deep breath in, Harry willed himself forward, up to the gates and over threshold. He almost laughed when nothing happened, no voices emerged from the shadows, no brutal murderers ran at him with a bloody axe. He was fucking fine. In fact, he was almost bored by the lack of excitement.

All those stories warning him not to come here, all those tales of gruesome incidents and the only demon to greet him was his own imagination running away with him. Kind of pathetic when you think about it.

Now that he stood in the middle of the driveway, Harry could properly take in the details of his surroundings.

The front garden itself was split between both sides of the cobbled driveway leading directly to the house. A fresh lawn on either side carried tiny droplets of dew from the unpleasant weather, lined by borders of neatly trimmed back hedges going slightly orange with the changing seasons. It was simple but upheld the elegance of the plot of land - emphasised by the grandeur of the house looming like a shadow in the dark. The exterior looked like it had stepped straight out of a Victorian gothic novel with pointed arch windows, a steeply pitched roof and made from dark grey stone. If someone would have told Harry this was the place Dracula had lived, he would have believed them.

Harry's mind had become a wildfire of inspiration, sparked alight by the hundreds of avenues that he could take his novel. Any inkling of doubt Harry had about this place had evaporated into thin air, leaving a level of curious excitement in its wake.

Wasting no time, Harry hurried up the stretching driveway, his eyes flitting about the expanse of land in a desperate attempt to commit every tiny detail to memory. That was until he was struck speechless by the line of stone statues guarding the front of the house - seven gothic angels, their bodies and facial features contorted in various states of pain, each one more severe than the last as if depicting a story. Or perhaps serving as a warning. A warning of what might happen if one dared to venture further.

Whatever the meaning, Harry was captivated. They were the only parts of the house that appeared to age with speckles of moss clinging to the podiums and chipped elements only seeming to add to the decay each angel held within themselves.

The wooden porch creaked under Harry's step as he approached the front doors and he was just about to turn the doorknob to enter when he became aware of a weird cracking sound echoing in the still silence smothering the surrounding land. Clearing his throat, Harry slowly turned to look behind him with a frown. His heart skipped a beat as he was suddenly faced with all seven angels staring directly at him, their tortured expressions now directed in his direction as if he was the one inflicting such suffering upon them.

They hadn't been looking this way before. Harry knew that for certain. The writer swallowed thickly as he willed his racing heart to calm down. It was just an overused trick he'd seen in horror movies - similar to those paintings with eyes that seemed to follow you across the room. His creative mind was running away with him, that's all.

Suck it up, buttercup. Just a little closer...

"You must be losing your damn mind." He muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly in disbelief that he was allowing himself to grow so unsettled when he didn't believe in the supernatural. It was all bullshit, he had allowed the rumours of the house to run rampant in his mind, causing logic to get entangled with fictional fantasies. "Get a hold of yourself."

Rusted hinges creaked loudly as Harry finally pushed the oak front door open, the stale, musky scent of the house hit him almost immediately and made him cough a little as it caught him by surprise. Even though the house hadn't fallen into disrepair in the decades it had remained empty, the entire place felt as if it was frozen in time with the interior design steeped in grand decor of the early nineteen-hundreds.

Harry couldn't help but gape in awe at what surrounded him: velvet wallpaper, crystal chandeliers, golden trims and polished mahogany floors. It was as if he had stepped onto the set of a costume drama and he could feel himself growing impatient to start exploring. Judging by the size of the place, he could easily spend all night nosing about the numerous rooms instead of writing but he couldn't allow himself to forget the reason he came here.

Darkness had closed in around the house by the time Harry had finished searching for inspiration around the house and was feeling more than ready to churn out a couple of chapters. However, he was a little disappointed he had found nothing out of the ordinary in his search. No headless bodies in the kitchen, no ghosts creeping down the hallways, no bloody handprints smeared along the windows. All there had been half melted candles, family paintings, children's toys and moth-eaten clothes.

It had been a little disappointing but Harry had expected it. He knew the stories were made up, exaggerated over time to scare kids at night to stop them from getting too curious.

But at least his brain was almost bursting with new story ideas.

It had been an hour since he'd set up camp in the old library upstairs with his camping lantern as the only source of light in the gloomy room. The desk had a thick layer of dust covering it but it didn't bother Harry, it only served to create a more gothic atmosphere surrounded by all the shelves of leather-bound books as he frantically scribbled his thoughts down on paper.

Time seemed to pass differently in the house, slipping out of Harry's grasp before he knew it as he allowed himself to be entirely consumed by his work. Every glance at his watch would give him a different time, sometimes ten minutes would have passed since he'd last looked, other times it would have been hours. The only constant he knew was the night sky barely visible through the fogged-up library window.

The glass panels rattled slightly as the wind picked up outside, whistling through the slight gaps in the window panes. With the weather picking up, Harry knew to expect some strange noises to echo about the place as it was expected for things to go bump in older houses such as this one.

What he didn't expect was for the simultaneous slamming of all the upstairs doors to shake the house the way it did, causing him to jump out of his skin and make his heart start pounding in his chest. Dropping his pen in the desk, Harry's head whipped around to look behind him, his hands shaking slightly as adrenaline started to course through his bloodstream.

A small draught flowing through the house couldn't have made such a noise. But Harry refused to let it rattle his nerves. He knew there was a reasonable explanation for everything and it was possible there could be undiscovered disrepair where the wind was entering from.

Another rumble reverberated deep within one of the bedrooms and Harry couldn't ignore the voice in the back of his mind calling for him to check it out. It sounded like something had fallen over and the last thing he wanted was to be blamed for wrecking the place when he'd been minding his own business the whole night.

His legs felt heavy as he hoisted himself out of the library chair, clutching his lantern in his clammy hand as he forced every step forward and out of the room. Heavy, anxious breaths rattled in his chest as he gave in to the fear stroking its claws at his brain, a rising nausea settling as an uncomfortable lump in the back of his throat.

The hallway was steeped in shadows crawling through every crack and crevice waiting to pounce on Harry when he least expected it. The little light from his lantern did little to protect him from the monsters lurking around every corner, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

Floorboards creaked underfoot as he peeked down the hallway, making Harry shut his eyes briefly to steady his nerves. His chest rose and fell as he made a conscious effort to slow his breathing, a hand placed lightly over his chest to feel when his heartbeat had slowed back to normal. Everything was fine and just as he'd last seen it. All that had changed were the bedroom doors were now closed.

He was still alone. Alone...

He was fine. He was safe. And he was alone.

Any resolve he'd managed to tackle over his emotions went flying out the back of his mind the moment his eyes fluttered back open only to be met with his own green orbs staring back at him from the other end of the dark hallway. But they weren't his. They were an exact copy, darkened with something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.

A sinister smirk glinted in the limited flecks of light reaching that far, making a chill run-down Harry's spine. Shadows obscured the figure's face but Harry had looked in the mirror enough times over the years to recognise his reflection when he saw it.

What the fuck was going on?

All logic flew out the window as he moved on his own accord, his brain barely processing the movement before Harry was running towards himself - desperate for answers. But his double seemed to predict every move a second before Harry reacted, gliding towards the master bedroom and vanishing into thin air before the writer could catch him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Harry yelled in fear, his words trembling as he frantically threw open the bedroom door after the mysterious figure. Beams of light spilled into the room, illuminating a path for Harry to search for answers. His chest was heaving once more, as the man was on the verge of hyperventilating. "W-what do you want?"

Raising the lantern in his hand, Harry searched high and low in every single corner possible for any sign that what he had just seen was real.

Look at the little lamb, all lost and scared of the dark.

Let me comfort you, come to me buttercup. Let me save you.

Coming up short for an explanation, Harry was left with no choice but to return to the library - notably more shaken than when he'd left.

Goosebumps had risen against his inked skin now that he had been set permanently on edge, his tired mind allowing him to fall into the trap of believing the superstitions every logical part of him fought to disprove. But he had seen himself. He had seen himself walking away and disappearing through a closed door. It wasn't a reflection, there were no mirrors except from in the bathroom.

Wind howled menacingly on outside, whipping the onslaught of rain against the glass window panes. Thick drips leaked through the gaps, soaking into the wallpaper as it streamed down the walls and began to pool on the mahogany desk below. With every passing second, the puddle continued to grow and Harry cursed under his breath as he hurried to salvage the hours of work scribbled on the pages.

Trembling hands scooped up the sodden pages, beams of light fading slightly as the lantern toppled to his feet. It was impossible to see what he was doing as the shadows creeped closer, scraping their talons impatiently along the walls as they waited for their chance to engulf the man at his most vulnerable.

Harry's hands had become soaked with the thick liquid as he struggled to save his things before they were ruined, small drips falling from a crack in the ceiling and sliding down his face from where it landed in his messy curls. A horrid metallic stench suddenly flooded Harry's senses, his nose wrinkling in disgust as it suddenly dawned on him that something wasn't quite right.

Rain water didn't ooze from crevices the way this was and it certainly didn't reek of stale death that made you nauseous. Papers fluttered to the ground as Harry allowed them to slide from his grip, raising his palms in front of his face to confirm what he already suspected.

Crimson blood tainted his pale skin, smeared along his wrists and stained his cheeks as it clung to him like a disease. His stomach lurched as he remained rooted to the spot in horror, more blood pouring in through the ceiling faster than ever. Drenched in blood, Harry could no longer deny that this house wasn't normal - all logical reasoning was disproven before the thoughts even entered his mind. Intense nausea forced him to snap into action, dashing through the long hallway towards the direction of the upstairs bathroom.

Crashing through the door, Harry flung himself to the sink. His shoulders heaved forwards as his body worked to get rid of the contents of his stomach. Blood smeared against the pale porcelain as he gripped the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. Sweat clung to his forehead as shaky breaths rattled his lungs, petrified sobs echoing about the bathroom as Harry felt himself descend into madness.

His eyes flitted up to the cracked mirror, hoping to convince himself that this was all in his head. That somehow this was just one big nightmare and he wasn't here soaked in stranger's blood that rained down from cracks in the roof.

But what he saw was so much worse, rattling him to his very core.

Alongside his own pale features staring back at him, another form approached from the shadows from behind.

A muffled yelp escaped his lips as he whipped around to face the shadow smirking at his fear with amusement. The form stalked closer like a cat watching its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce and feed from his emotions without a single remorse.

Trapped in place, Harry could feel the edge of the sink digging uncomfortably against his back as tried to keep his distance. Wary eyes never left the figure as it stepped into the beam of moonlight streaming through the tiny window, transforming the menacing shadow into one of the most attractive men Harry had ever seen.

Brown eyes, broad shoulders and slicked back hair stole the breath from Harry's lungs.

"Shhhh...don't fret, buttercup." A silky-smooth voice breezed through the air, making Harry's heart skip a beat as he got wrapped up in the sexual haze wrapping around him. He greeted it willingly, a sense of familiarity within this situation calmed his racing heart and a warm blur fizzled in his mind - making him forget of all the fear the night had instilled deep inside himself. "I'm here now."

Entranced in the man's beauty, Harry's legs moved of their own accord and carried him into the light - close enough for the nameless beauty to brush his index finger over his blood-stained cheek. Brown eyes met green and Harry tumbled willingly into the stranger's spell.

Only, this wasn't a stranger. No, Harry knew this man, had felt this man's passions before. His heart leaped in his chest as a sense of deja vu washed over him like a cool wave on a summer's evening, lips curling upwards as he greeted a long-lost lover.

"Rowan." He whispered into the small space between them, his voice wavering with emotion as he leaned into the man's delicate touch.

"I missed the sound of my name from those pretty lips." Rowan breathed out a chuckle, wasting no time in pressing his lips against Harry's with such passion that he had to grip Harry's waist to keep him from staggering backwards. Hot, frenzied kisses were exchanged, breaths shared and soft moans filled the air as Harry's hands found their way to Rowan's hair, smearing thick blood through the strands as he tugged harshly.

Their bodies were flushed together in a matter of seconds, Rowan's strong form walking Harry backwards so he was pressed against the bathroom counter once more. This time, however, there was not a single inkling of fear present in Harry's mind - completely overshadowed by the whirlwind of lust controlling his every action.

The kiss grew more frenzied, more desperate as Rowan asserted his dominance over his lover with Harry willing to do anything if it meant eliciting more of those delicious moans from the man towering above him. Adventurous hands explored the man's broad shoulders, venturing south to trail down the expanse of Rowan's toned torso over the soft material of his silk shirt.

Harry could feel the amused smirk against the skin of his neck as Rowan's sloppy kisses made his breath catch in the back of his throat, their blown pupils meeting briefly in a shared glance - a silent question of consent present in the slight twitch in Rowan's brows.

"Is this real?" Harry was breathless, fighting through the pleasure lingering in his bloodstream as Rowan's intoxicating presence loosened its grip around his heart a little. Peering up at the man through his lashes had Rowan rolling his head back with a stifled groan.

"You tell me, buttercup." His voice was thick with lust, causing a wave of arousal to rush straight to Harry's cock, half hard in his trousers and begging for attention. "Does this feel real?"

Before Harry knew it, Rowan was pushing his hips roughly against his own so he could feel his bulge, ready and waiting to pleasure him once he was given the green light. A low moan sounded from deep within Harry's chest, the feeling of Rowan's hardness rubbing against his own made his head swim in the most delightful way.

"Y-yes." He panted, flopping his head forward to lean against Rowan's toned chest.

"Then don't overthink it." Rowan purred in Harry's ear, strong hands gripping the side of his hips as he took control again. "Turn around, hands on the counter."

His waist bumped against the porcelain sink as Rowan roughly spun him into the position he wanted, tightly fisting his curls in one hand and yanking them so Harry had no choice but to stare at his reflection in the mirror.

He looked utterly wrecked already and he had barely been touched, crimson blood smeared across his face, lips swollen and pupils blown as he met Rowan's intense stare in their reflection. His lips were painted red from the dark blood that had been transferred from their heated kiss but the blood only turned Harry on more. It promised all the mess and dirty passion he was craving.

Rowan's bloodstained hands slowly snaked their way around Harry's neck, his darkened gaze lapping up every subtle flicker of emotion across Harry's face.

"You gonna let me touch you now?"

Harry's eyes fluttered shut momentarily as he nodded eagerly, a low chuckle from behind making his hips buck against the counter in search of some kind of release. Warm hands cupped his arousal through the material of his trousers, applying just enough pressure to make his head spin.

"Words, buttercup." Rowan's words slipped from his tongue, filled with such lust that Harry couldn't help but let out a quiet moan. His green eyes locked onto the reflection of Rowan's fingers toying with the zipper of his trousers, a devilish smirk across his lips as he purposely took his time to tease Harry.

"Please...fuck me, Rowan." He whined, his palm sliding over Rowan's pleading him to do anything to burst the building bubble of lust that was making him feel crazy. To touch him, to kiss him. To just fucking pleasure him.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he continued to get worked up, his body falling against Rowan's strong body as his hips worked on their own accord, circling with Rowan's gentle teasing to work out some of the tension rolling through his body. Quiet gasps and frantic whimpers filled the air like music to Rowan's ears as he watched Harry grow frustrated at his failed attempts to pleasure himself against his hand.

"What's wrong, puppy?" He taunted, blood red lips pouting against Harry's ear as his sinister stare taunted the man through the mirror. "Pants a little tight?"

"P-please, I'll be good." Harry's words were breathy and light as he grew lightheaded under Rowan's intense stare. The red blood smeared all over his body from where he was pressed up tightly against Harry's writhing body only emphasised his devilish act, turning Harry on to no end as his mind played over a dozen different ways this night might end. "I'll be a good boy for you."

Danger loomed somewhere distant in the back of his mind but it did nothing to scare him. It only made him hornier, more desperate to feel Rowan exert his claim over his body however he wanted.

The bloodied grasp on his neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to add to the intense level of pleasure stole all of Harry's attention. His blown pupils couldn't focus on anything else.

"What do you need me to do, pup? Tell me."

"Anything! Please, just touch me. I need it, I need you!" Close to tears, Harry's eyes fell shut as his head began to swim, too many sensations flowing through his bloodstream to even blurt out exactly what he needed. He'd take anything at this point as long as he got to cum soon. "I'm being good for you, please!"

The only response was Rowan tugging at Harry's curls to snap his attention back to the mirror, a pointed look warning him to do exactly as he was told in order to earn what he was begging for.

"Eyes on me, pup or I stop. Got it?" He purred seductively, wasting no time in finally unzipping Harry's trousers and pulling his hard length out, a bead of precum collecting at the tip in anticipation of Rowan's full attention.

But just as Harry thought he finally thought he was going to finally touch him; Rowan brought his hand up to his lips.

"Spit." He demanded, and Harry obeyed without a single hesitation. "Good boy."

His cock twitched at the praise, instant relief enveloping him as Rowan finally wrapped his hand around Harry's arousal, slowly stroking his length with calculated movements. Pure bliss overtook Harry's features, his brows tugged together in pleasure as his lips parted to let out a loud moan.

"F-fuck." He groaned, his hips thrusting upwards to aid Rowan in his actions, his hands gripping Rowan's hair in a silent plea for him to continue kissing along his jawline. "More."

Rowan didn't have to be told twice, his tongue licking a stripe along the sharp edge of Harry's jawline, savouring the sweet metallic taste of the blood tainting his flushed skin. The muscles in his arm rippled under the flowy material of his shirt as he continued to tug at Harry's length, flicking his wrist ever so slightly to make sure he smeared the blurts of precum along the tip.

Waves of pleasure ebbed and flowed through Harry's entire body, making his legs grow weak enough that Rowan's strong body had to shift slightly in order to keep him standing upright. Heaving chest and sweaty curls, blood began to slide down Harry's forehead again as he felt himself rapidly reaching the edge already.

The grip against his neck tightened even more to the point Harry expected to have bruises where Rowan's fingers dug into his skin but he didn't care. It made his head grow even lighter, pleasure swimming through his brain and made every sensation he felt in the pit of his stomach intensify by the second.

Harder and harder Rowan's hand clamped the tender flesh, restricting the air that tried to enter his lungs. Harry watched as the man's eyes grew impossibly darker, something switching in his demeanour slightly that had his guard flying up. Something was wrong.

His chest felt heavy as he struggled for breath, eyes widening in fear as he noticed Rowan's other hand was no longer pleasing him, instead moving at a rapid speed to lock his arm where he was grabbing at his throat. The muscles in his biceps locked tighter than his hand was able to and cut off the air Harry desperately tried to suck into his lungs.

Panic overloaded his brain where pleasure once blurred his judgement. Adrenaline made his heart race, something that only seemed to urge Rowan on.

"Your heartbeat sings for me, buttercup. Isn't it beautiful?" He whispered darkly, tightening his iron grip even more as Harry's hands clawed desperately for some kind of relief.

Eyes wide and body jolting with fear, frenzied attempts to escape only made Rowan chuckle. His vision began to grow blurry as his brain was deprived of oxygen, tired eyes struggling to stay focused on the reflection of Rowan's sinister shadow overpowering. Any attempt in escaping, he realised, was pointless.

This man wasn't human, he had known that the moment he'd fallen for his intoxicating spell. He'd walked blindly into the trap set out for him since he'd entered the house hours ago. He was going to die here. His name would be added to the long list of victims Selly House had claimed as its own, his own arrogance being the cause of his downfall.

Shhh..buttercup, don't be scared. It's time to return home.

His limbs went still as the darkness creeped in around him, the last few seconds of consciousness slipping from his grasp faster than he could fight back. Before he knew it black consumed him and he gave himself over to Rowan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A cold breeze whipped around Harry as he stood in the middle of the road, the silence of the woods around him providing the peace he needed to collect his thoughts. The decaying petals of old flower arrangements fluttered away, joining the swirls of orange leaves scattered across the floor.

Sad eyes stared at the dead flowers - old memories from loved ones that had moved on with their lives while he remained eternally trapped on the other side, just out of their reach. His mother's handwriting stood prominent on the letter attached to the freshest bouquet, one that appeared at this spot every year to mark the anniversary of her son's passing.

Harry read her heartfelt words over in his mind, clinging on to her hope that he was in a better place.

"I thought I'd find you out here." A gentle voice approached cautiously, making Harry turn to greet his lover with a smile. Rowan stood behind him, brown eyes mirroring Harry's sorrow as he understood the pain flowing through his heart. It had been fifty years since his own passing but it never got easier watching someone like Harry come to terms with their own death - especially one that was so brutal.

Even now, Rowan couldn't look Ethel in the eye. Her jealous rage in seeing her husband fall in love with the innocent man who had stumbled upon the house had triggered a psychotic rage within her. She'd spent hours torturing Harry's mind, making him see disturbing things, chasing him about the house until eventually causing him to trip down the stairs and tumble to his demise - all while Rowan watched, trapped in the shadows Ethel had confined him to.

Overcome with emotions, Harry allowed Rowan to wrap his arms around him with a comforting warmth that battled the autumnal weather making him shiver slightly. Laying his head against his lover's chest, he allowed the sound of Rowan's heart to ground him, calming him from such a draining night.

"I forgot again, didn't I?" He sighed, feeling Rowan's soft touch playing with his messy curls.

"Sometimes it takes a while to process a traumatic death. You're lucky it was me that found you, I doubt Ethel would have been so quick to save you."

Harry knew Rowan was right, Ethel would have savoured every moment of his pain before eventually putting him out of his misery. She took pleasure in watching him play out the day he died, trapped in the vicious cycle until his mind finally accepted he was eternally trapped in the afterlife, living among the other countless victims the house had claimed that hid in the shadows.

"I suppose you had to kill me."

"It's the only thing that brings you back, buttercup. But I think you're starting to remember things now; you gave in to me pretty quickly this time."

At Rowan's smugness, Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes fondly. He should have known all that would play on his lover's mind were the intimate moments they always shared before Harry's death, all in an attempt to avoid discussing how it felt to murder his lover over and over again.

He knew Rowan couldn't help the darkness that clouded his mind when it came to murder. The house had taken its claim on his mind, just like it eventually would on Harry's.

There was no escaping Selly house, not even in death.

But Harry would gladly give in to whatever was in store for him if it meant an eternity in Rowan's arms. An eternity with his lover.

[dragonscalie]

Unironically, Willard is probably one of my favorite franchises. It's not only because it resonated with me so hard as soon as I found it, seeing myself in Willard in a very spefifically autistic way. It's just a perfectly obscure yet pop culture that it's in a perfect middle ground where some people know about it but no one is really annoying about it y'know? I'm usually the only one to talk about it in my everyday life, usually people just know it as the rat movie but they don't usually get it.

Usually when I get into a movie and I learn it has a book based off of it I immediately have to get my hands on it and by far Ratman's Notebooks had to be one of the best (with Carnosaur being the worst.) It highlights everything about Willard as a character I love and his descent into becoming worse and worse until his death. I especially love how every single movie seems to be adapting it in its own way which is something that I find myself loving about this franchise. 1971 is probably the best adaptation, especially in the garden scenes which were sorely missed in 2003. 2003 adapts the dog scene and the tire scene the best and adds a nice gothic atmosphere which isn't Willard in my opinion but it's still a nice breath of fresh air. Ben 1972 is most interesting as its a sequel to the story but it still has its own adaptation of the store scene and has a fantastic interpretation of the rat hunt.

Even the songs about this franchise are great, Willard! by Will Wood is something that has definitely got a ton of neurodivergent teens into this over 50 year old rat madness. It's more than just that though, it focuses on Willard and Socrates' friendship which is something that was greatly improved in the 2003 movie which makes the song incredibly heartbreaking.

Ben's Song was made for the second movie by kid Michael Jackson which makes me incredibly sad that they just didn't get him to play the kid in the film. This song is a focus on Ben and Drew's friendship and has the implied acknowledgement of Ben's abandonment by Willard. It and Ben 1972 as a movie is just such a nice end to Ben's character, I kinda love the open ended ending looking back on it. Did Drew live through his heart surgery? Did Ben grow old and die happy in the arms of his best friend? No one knows! I like to think Ben lived long and happy with Drew, as do probably most people.

Speaking of actors, even if I prefer Bruce Davison as Willard I do really think Chrispen Glover did a good job. Even Lee Montgomery did pretty good as Drew, he was charming in a way. I do think Chrispen is too obvious as the Ratman as the entire point was no one expects it to be Willard but that's okay, that goes with his freak charm I guess. I really wish we could see another adaptation of Willard, particularly one that finally involves the rat mask because we haven't seen it adapted on screen at all and I think its a very iconic part of the book its on the cover for a reason.

A new Willard adaptation would do great as a tv show, adapting all the rat shenanigans from the book every episode in-between his office life. I don't know anyone who would be good at playing Willard himself but I vote for Matthew Lillard to take a crack at Mr Martin as he's too old play the ratman himself.