#Writing Blurb

[starry-songs-canvas]

Take Care of Him

The boy, who had Damian’s face, couldn’t be more different than Dick’s (alive?) baby brother.

Aside from his Snow White hair, he smiled and laughed freely, making puns on top of his embarrassing story about his supposed twin brother.  

(“Clones don’t have childhood memories right?  So if I have an embarrassing story or two, that’ll give you a way to check that I’m not a clone AND give you ammunition for teasing!”)

“—And that’s how his face—and his pride—was forever wounded by Sparta the warrior cat!”  Danny finished his story with a flourish, cracking up immediately after.

“Huh, and to think he left it at “training”, obviously he didn’t think anyone would let the cat out of the bag.”  Dick said, laughing even as he eyed the lookalike.

Danny snorted.  “Yeah, I doubt he thought anything as Cat-astropic as that would happen.”

They sat in silence for a moment, overlooking the buildings below, with the Dalv. Co. Labs smoking in the distance and the breeze blowing past the two, yet only seeming to affect Nightwing and not the phantom beside him.

“Is he safe?  Is he happy?” Danny murmurs as he looks up at the stars, looking every bit the forlorn ghost he claimed to be.

“…We keep each other safe.  And I’d say once he got past the stabbing faze, he’s pretty happy in Gotham.”

“But I’m sure it’d make him happy to see you again.”  Dick thought back to the comments the vampire-ghost they’d fought earlier.  It didn’t sound exactly, “happy” or “safe” for Danny.  Or anyone else involved.

Danny shook his head.  “Nah.  He’s… moved on.  And with how crazy my after-life is?  I’m already dealing with ghosts, ghost-hunters, and my—err—that frootloop from earlier.  I do not need to add furries and murder-ninjas to the mix.”

Danny sighed as he floated into a standing position.  “Speaking of which, if you could just, maybe not tell him you saw me?  Better to let dead dogs lie.”

Danny’s piercing Lazarus green eyes looked at Dick and he saw the exact same expression B had on whenever he “had to do it alone”.

“Just, take care of him, Kay?  Or I’ll haunt you to the ends of the universe!”  He said, throwing up a peace sign as he turned invisible.

Dick snorted, “Yeah, sure kid.”

Dick got up and started off toward the bat-plane.  He had a brother to interrogate, and another brother/clone of his brother to find.

[sushirrrry]

would love to see a blurb about best friend harry thinking yn’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve her and accidentally confesses his feelings for her

bound a harry styles one-shot blurb; 7.2k words cw: fluff fluff and more fluff

When Harry had booked this trip, there were three things that he was looking forward to.

One of them was the open bar that their friends—the new Mr. and Mrs. Moxley—would be providing to them, which would include a couple gin and tonics too many.

The second was the beachfront room that he had scored from the credit card points he had expertly racked up the past few months, especially for this trip to Barcelona for his friend’s wedding. He thought he had scored a pretty good deal.

The third was seeing Cassidy for a weekend straight.

While the two of them lived in the same city, they were walking different paths at the moment, which had never been them. There were nights that they met for dinner, almost like nothing had changed. But Harry lived in South London; he had been working long nights in the museum, Cassidy was on the opposite side of the city working at her accounting position she had taken recently.

Both hadn’t had each other’s undivided attention in quite some time, and Harry was looking forward to the possibility of having that again. The kind of attention, the kind of laughs and indescribable joy that they had both needed—he was sure of it.

If there was one thing that he knew about Cass, it was that she was sprinting on the plane to get the vacation she had been looking forward to.

Plus, neither of them had a plus-one this time around.

That meant that it was just the two of them, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk every time he thought of it. Undivided attention.

Harry had thrown on a linen suit for the welcome party; the night before the wedding. He had started to unpack his room, trying to pass the time before he knew that Cass would arrive. Once he heard a buzzing on his phone, his head lifted from looking down into his suitcase and towards the device on the duvet.

If there was one thing Harry was going to do on his vacation, it was unpack the entirety of his suitcase before doing anything else.

iddy: smyf

The small acronym ‘show me your fit’ made him smile before he noticed a few more texts rolling in, the dots precursing them on the phone.

iddy: for tonight, not right now. I should have clarified. Please don’t send a pic of your penis

iddy: someone has to make sure I’m not overdressed. How do you dress for a pre-wedding dinner

The panic over the texts was exactly how Harry knew Cassidy; she worried over small things but overlooked the bigger picture. It was a small, miniscule flaw, really.

But before he’s able to even move towards the large mirror in his bathroom, his phone vibrates again. His attention is grabbed by the way that his eyes move over the image that comes in, rather than the words he had been reading from her.

And something about it made him stop in his tracks on his own way to show her what he had looked like.

Something about the way that she held the phone up to the mirror, giving a small pout—a playful one, as if unsure of herself. The way that the wisps of her hair were around her face, but the rest was pulled back by a clip—he was certain of it. She didn’t like having her hair down if she could help it.

Harry swallowed in the comfort of the room, almost like he was trying to keep himself from getting caught in the moment, even when no one was around. His eyes flew over the soft baby blue of the dress, the way that it dipped down, just a bit.

The way that the color danced over her tanned skin; maybe even a bit red from the sun he was certain that she had taken apart in as soon as they hopped off the plane. Harry knew that she bathed in the sun whenever it came out in London; she wouldn’t have gotten burned there, though.

There were dainty cream flower details—maybe stitching, even—on the dress as he zoomed in to get a better look at it.

His thumb cruised over the message, writing out a message before he pressed send.

Harry: good thing you told me not to send you a pic of my penis! Was about to!

Harry: also, you look beautiful, c

He frowned when she sent another message.

iddy: ok but am I overdressed

Harry: no, see

Harry held his phone up to the mirror as she had done to him—as they had done for one another many times before. But something about the way he looked in it bothered him for a moment. He fixed his hair, running his hand through it, almost to make sure that it looked much better than usual. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit before he sent the picture through to her.

The cream suit was opened, a white shirt settled underneath it. He wore a pair of his favorite white sneakers that fit like a glove, even a bit scuffed—but he felt that that balanced the outfit.

When he sent the photo, he waited a moment for Cass to send something back. But it felt like the longer he stared, the more pressure he felt to not see the grey dots coming back on the screen.

He bit the inside of his lip, waiting patiently before he locked the phone and slid it down into his pocket.

Instead of worrying about that, Harry checked his watch to see that it was closing in on six-thirty– which meant that he was fashionably late to the six o’clock time for the dinner.

He spritzed a bit more cologne, checked his teeth in the mirror, and pushed the bunches of curls off of his forehead that he meant to get cleaned up before coming on this trip but simply losing track of time.

He grabbed his wallet– hoping to not lose it or need it– and walked out of the hotel room door, down towards the lobby where he figured everyone would be gathering. He figured he'd take the long way, walking through some groups of people until he saw a grand staircase to lead down into the lobby area.

Harry figured that he would walk that way, down towards the main area where some familiar faces had collected for cocktail hour and drinks. His eyes maneuvered around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cass in any capacity.

Walking down the stairs, he saw Mari and Logan– the bride and groom– and greeted both of them accordingly. Mari and Harry had worked together back at uni, so they had become close friends. There may have been a night or two when Harry and Mari actually went home together, but they chalked that up to some consensual stress release.

When she started dating Logan, they started to hang around everyone more– which then included Cassidy. They would all go out together to the pubs after classes and had become really great friends since then. It was no surprise that this kind of event would bring them all together again.

“Have you guys seen Cass yet?” Harry asked, looking around. “I haven't seen here since she got here. She texted me but didn't get a response.”

Mari looked at him a bit suspiciously before turning to Logan for a moment. “Didn't you guys RSVP together?”

Harry looked up at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“No– I mean, no, I didn't respond with her name or anything. Did she do that for me?” He had thought that he marked one salmon meal and that was it.

Mari bit her lip as she blinked at him a few times. “No, but she RSPV’d a plus one, I think. Or she said something a few months ago– it's a bit fuzzy, but she told me she was coming with someone else. I– I mean, I was certain it would be you.”

Harry’s smile faltered just a bit before he shook his head, the hands in his pockets had turned to fists as he turned to look around him. Wondering if he'd lay eyes on her or watch her holding hands with another guy.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen that before, but the excitement of seeing her for the first time in a while was slowly dwindling before he turned his head for what felt like the millionth time looking for her.

But this time, his vision landed on her. The rosy colored glasses that he saw her threw was starting to dim as the picture got a bit blurry.

The baby blue dress that fell just below her knees, the dip in the front. The silky material hung on her body, but his eyes stood on the hand that hand firmly on her waist as if to keep her tucked into him.

His greatest fears becoming reality as he looked up the girl giggling at a probable reasonable remark.

Cassidy took a break from her schoolgirl giggling to see Mari and Logan standing there, looking at her and the person practically wrapped around her. But when looked up to see that Harry had also been standing right there, a sudden course of fear trembled through her.

Fear was a strong word; worry was more like it.

She had known how Harry was, which is why she kept this a secret from him. Now, he was forced to get to know her boyfriend of three months because they were here on their own accord for a weekend. They would spend it together, having each other in their lives for a weekend. That's what he had requested, and what she could agree to.

He had promised her that– even if he hadn't realized that had included this moment right here, yet.

“Hi, guys!” Cass put on her smile, a gorgeous one that pushed the dimples on her chin forward. “Mari, you look so beautiful!”

The girls wove into a hug, Harry standing and staring at the man who had let Cassidy go– looking a bit as if he was uncomfortable at letting someone else touch her. His eyes stayed on them as Cassidy pulled back and moved onto Logan, congratulating them on the whole marriage thing.

It was like she was taking a moment before she would get to him. She looked at Mari’s ring, gushing about how beautiful it was and she beautiful she looked.

Her eyes reached Harry’s then, a sheepish smile on her face before she pushed her arms out to wrap her arms around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his ribs.

“It's so good to see you.” She commented; he wanted to say something back but the comfort of her made his face retreat into the slot of her shoulder and neck.

When they pulled away, he got a real look at her and gave her the smile she had been waiting to see.

“So glad you're here.” He told her before feeling like a blush had intermittently taken its place in his cheeks.

Their connection had faded a moment before she paused; she took a breath and stepped back before remembering the man who stood behind them.

“Guys, this is–“ She looked up at him, “This is Dalton. We've been seeing each other for a few months, and just thought it would be so good to introduce him here since we're all here.”

Harry had to try to remember to release the fists in his pocket before he would go to shake his hand.

“Dalton, this is Mari and Logan– the bride and groom,” She introduced, letting him shake their hands and give their respective hello’s, followed by congratulations and thanks. But then she turned to Harry, Dalton’s composure changing a moment before he watched Harry’s change too.

Cassidy felt small between them as she stares at the way they faced one another.

“Uh, Dalton, this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is Dalton.”

Harry lets one of the sides of his face turn up in a smile before he reaches out to be the better person. “Best friend, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Cassidy looks at Harry, almost giving him a really?

The grip of the man’s hands together feels tense as Dalton gives him a courtesy, “Nice to meet you, too.”

As Cassidy watches the interaction, she notices that the way that Harry stands is taller and fuller—like he’s trying to prove to Dalton that he’s bigger, he’s better—that he could end him in a moment’s notice, if need be. She holds onto Dalton’s arm, practically pulling the man from his trance with trying to overthrow Harry’s dominance.

“Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She offers, giving Harry another grin before Cassidy and Dalton makes their way over to the bar area.

Harry watches tentatively before he notices that Logan and Mari are also a bit in shock by the interaction and the couth that Cassidy had to bring someone into this sacred space, once again. Harry knew how Cassidy felt most days about herself—she looked for the satisfaction of a partner, the confidence boost that having someone on her arm could bring her.

It was reassuring to Harry to think that she could go into a room by herself; owning the space and knowing who she was. That was what he was hoping for in this interaction, but instead, she had to enter with someone else.

And with that, came the idea that the men that Cassidy picked always had a knack for making her the jealous type. Harry could always tell that her reactions became much more aggressive, her body language becoming possessive.

Cassidy wanted to feel like she was the most special girl in the world, and somehow, Harry was always left picking up the pieces of her tortured, stomped on heart after the last guy had decided that she wasn’t good enough. What the men in Cass’ life failed to see, was that her heart was always borrowed, on loan. It was never theirs to keep, because they never nurtured it or regarded it in any sense.

Her kindness had been taken from granted, her will to give was always overused and spent.

Harry knew that his love for Cassidy ran deeper than the deepest oceans, and wider than the largest forests, but something inside of him knew that they were better off as friends. Maybe it was because she was smart, and he figured she would have figured it out by now; the way he looked at her overruled the way he would ogle art painted on canvas, or sculptures tall and mighty.

He was always there with a rose and a smile, standing outside her door after the last guy packed his belongings and left for good.

It was why watching her happy, standing by the bar without a care in the world broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew that he was always there to rescue her, and he could see by the way that the guy stood away from her—maybe even trying to get a glimpse of the other women around him. But Cassidy’s naivety kept her eyes locked on the man instead, her irises shaped like hearts.

Mari and Logan had started a new conversation with another few people, Harry stood with his hands in his pockets as he tried to figure out a course of action. He had figured that the night would be wasted away—quite literally and figuratively—with Cassidy by his side, but now he felt more alone than he had before.

A man with champagne on a tray walked by, and Harry grabbed two flutes. One for each hand. He downed one quickly before he made his way back to the bar where the two of them had been standing before setting one of the glasses down and keeping the other before he noticed that Cassidy had grabbed a glass of red wine—Cab Sav, most likely.

The man—Dalton—held a short, rocks-glass that just had something clear in it, possibly straight vodka, if he was brave.

“So, you really didn’t bring anyone? Haven’t met anyone yet? You’ve usually grabbed a few asses by now,” Cassidy spoke out, moving around Dalton to get closer to Harry. He turned his attention back to her, shaking his head a few times.

“No—I mean, I thought we were just going to hang out. I didn’t know you were bringing someone.” Harry’s eyes flicked up towards Dalton’s before he watched Cassidy bite her lip. The red on her lips had either been from the stain of the wine or the way she bit on her lip; either way, Harry found it to be enticing enough to stare for a beat too long.

“I—I don’t know, I just assumed you would have brought someone with you. Weren’t you seeing someone?”

Harry took a sip from the flute, shrugging casually, “Yeah. But not like, exclusively.”

Cassidy nodded a few times, raising her brows, “Is it ever exclusive with you?”

There was a teasing tone in her voice, but the way that her eyes lifted to investigate his own only made his stomach drop at the intention. Harry felt an incredible sting through his chest as he cleared his throat, almost to wash away the sensitivity that he felt around his heart.

He went to speak, but his lips didn’t seem to let any words leave. Instead, the bartender interrupted as Harry realized that there may have been a small line forming behind them.

Harry, Cassidy, and Dalton moved to the side a bit—all three having their drinks in their hands before they found themselves in a circle of silence. Each taking sips of their drinks before Dalton seemed to make a move of conversation towards Harry, nodding at him.

“So, what do you do for a living, Harry?” He licked over his lips, a tight smile painted on his face before Harry could respond.

“I’m—uh, I’m an art curator. At a small art gallery in London.”

Cassidy chimed in, “Harry has great taste, actually. He’s put together some really great art expos and exhibits.”

“Hm,” Dalton hummed, “Where is the gallery? My parents host charity galas, and we are on the board at the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery.” He chuckles a bit, “I assume you’re not curating there.”

Harry feels the way that his jaw tightens, almost an innate reaction to the way that the man puts him down. Harry pushes his shoulders back before lifting his head. Cassidy looks to Dalton, speaking on Harry’s behalf.

“N-No, it’s—” But she’s interrupted when Harry speaks, then.

“It’s neither of those, no. It’s a bit more modern, helping to lift unknown artists who are looking to make their way into the conversation, which I think it’s very important. Especially now, our worldview is so mirrored by adding such high value to art that never needed it to begin with—art shouldn’t have value like that, in my opinion.” He felt that his tongue had a bit of venom on it when he took a larger sip of the champagne, practically downing that one, as well.

Dalton nodded. “I see. Well, I assume that amateur art wouldn’t have a value like Michelangelo or Vermeer, would they? But I think it’s presumptuous to say that art doesn’t have value. Everything has a price.”

Cassidy took in a breath before she took a large sip of wine; her eyes went to Harry who almost seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“Most things don’t have a price. Nothing has a price, it’s all relative. We, as a society, added price so people of higher status could act like they were better than other people, when it was all a façade to just make them look a bit fancier with their pretty goldleaf vases and Vermeer’s. A Vermeer painting doesn’t hold value to me, anyways.”

Dalton nodded a few times, giving a mock toast to the man in front of him, before he looked down at Cassidy.

“Yeah, that’s quite obvious. Class isn’t a given, it’s inherited. You should see the types of people that try to get their hands on these gala tickets, as if it’s some sort of carnival they can just attend. Half of them don’t have two quid to rub together, and it’s just embarrassing at that point.”

Harry took a step forward before Cassidy realized that his expression meant one of anger. Her arm pushed him back a bit before Dalton recognized the move and his eyes held a gentle smirk of cockiness.

It sat in Cassidy’s throat as she felt the deflation of her confidence. The weekend she had been looking forward to being was diminished quick before her eyes, and all she could do was count on the glass of wine that hadn’t even really been filled halfway.

“What he means is, being exclusive is an honor, and you of all people should know that, I’m sure.” Her eyes drive up to him, and Harry looks at her with that same feeling of hurt that he had felt moments ago by the bar. Harry’s lips parted as he looked at her and felt the subtle sting of her accusation.

Whether or not she meant it as a jab, he wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

“Excuse me, Cassidy,” Dalton chuckles with a hint of a mocking tone, “I can speak for myself, darling. No need to interrupt.”

In just that moment, Harry felt himself push against Cassidy’s arm that had been subtly holding him back with no force other than the small barrier of her shoulder. The small push sent Cassidy off balance, which in turn allowed the slosh of wine to knock around her glass.

“And who are you to talk to her like that?” Harry questioned; his eyes now centered on Dalton as his brow knit together. “Fuck off with that, will you?”

“Bloody hell,” Cassidy gasped out, her eyes dropping to the small amount of wine that covered the hardwood floor underneath them—small droplets of the red wine were coating the bottom of her dress; only enough for her to notice, really, but her eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harry and Dalton both turned to her then, Harry’s eyes dropping to the way that she held her dress up to get a bit of a better glimpse of the stain.

“Oh, fuck, Cass. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that. Hey, I’ll clean it up—” Harry moves towards her, his hand holding at her bicep to help keep her balance.

“Good work, mate.” Dalton eyed Harry, who felt the need to clench his fists again. He did so rather quickly, trying to get the feeling of anger to subside for the moment so that he could focus on Cassidy in the moment.

“It’s fine—really, I just want to make sure it doesn’t stain. I—let me go back to my room, I think I have a stain stick.” She lifts her head to look at before she starts to move out of the small space.

“Let me help,” Harry offers, starting to follow behind her. It feels like an opportunity to take—the two of them alone for just a moment so that he can gauge how she’s really feeling about Dalton and this whole situation. The first few minutes of him have Harry already written off, and he knows the type of person she needs to be with should never be one to talk over her.

“No—Harry, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” She says quickly before she feels Dalton’s hand on her, as if to help guide her.

“I can help, darling.” He tells her, “Don’t worry about it. We can buy you a new one, if it’s too bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes and practically gags at the way he speaks to her. As if Cassidy couldn’t buy her own, for herself. He watches as he feels that Cassidy may be a bit overwhelmed by the two of them staring at her, knowing that they’re both fighting for her attention and affection.

The look on her face suggests as such before she look at Harry and blinks a few times, noticing that he had started to back off a bit. Not that he really wanted to, but knowing her, she didn’t want all the attention on her at once.

Harry downed the rest of the champagne, leaving the flute on a small table before Cassidy knit her brows and shook her head. “Actually, Harry— can you help? Your mum’s stain trick always seems to work. I can’t remember, though.”

His eyes float to Dalton who seems a bit taken aback by her push to have Harry go up to her room with her instead.

Harry nods a few times, watching as Dalton goes to speak, but Cassidy reassures him. “I’ll be right back, okay? We won’t be long.” She hands the man her wine glass, only a quarter full now, as most of it had landed on the sandy wood floors.

It’s then that the two of them take off towards the elevator. Cassidy has a bit of a stomp in her step, almost like she’s making sure that her and Harry aren’t in direct line so he can’t speak to her. The fits of anger that bubble in her chest is unexplained as she goes to press the elevator button to go upwards. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the way that the light changes to go upwards.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Cassidy speaks out, a bit quietly as if to just think her thoughts—not say them outwardly.

“C’mon, Cass, he's got the ego of a narcissist and the smile of a Kennedy, you really think a guy like this could be the love of your life? Honestly.” Harry hounded her as they entered the elevator. He reached for the button, but Cassidy was already there, pressing three.

“That's not fair, Harry, you don't know him.” She settled against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, feeling the movement before she held onto the railing behind her. “He’s extremely smart, he’s confident—he knows what he wants. Which I think you and him may not agree on.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn’t look at him—but knowing that he had to say the words to her.

“But I know you.”

Cassidy shakes her head as if she’d heard that from him before. Something about the mixture of the two men felt familiar with many of the guys she had brought home, or brought to meet Harry, really. She couldn’t figure out if he just couldn’t understand that she was dating this guy—not just sleeping with him. They were forming a connection, but maybe Harry didn’t understand that.

Harry didn’t understand the concept of falling in love was possible, probably because she had never seen that happening. She had never seen Harry madly in love with someone; never seen his heart broken before. She didn’t know if that was a red flag or if that was a person choice that he didn’t allow for himself.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her chances at finding it—no matter what his personal opinions were.

“So, why are you putting me through this? C’mon, no one is ever good enough for you. I never said I was going to marry the guy!”

The shuffle of them towards the door to the hotel room increases as Cassidy throws the key against the electronic pad to open the door. Harry follows in quickly behind as she throws her shoes off. Harry makes sure to avoid tripping and falling over them but knows diligently that she takes her shoes off every time she walks through her door—without fail.

He knew that.

“But why waste your time if you won't spend your life with him?” Harry questions, turning on the light in the foyer of the small room that Cassidy and Dalton were sharing. Harry’s eyes tried not to wander as he saw the unfamiliarity of the dark navy suitcase on the floor next to the TV.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t,” Cass answers a bit with a huff as she rustles through her own suitcase to try to find the detergent stick, she had forgotten to throw in her bag, “All I said was I wasn't sure if I would, maybe I will! Also, I can throw that question right back at you, Mr. One-and-Done.”

Harry stands with his hands in his pockets as he knits his brows together at her answer.

“I just don’t think he’s the one, Cass. That’s all I said. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

“No, Harry, that’s not all you said,” She retorts, “You rolled your eyes, you were a bit disrespectful, you—you started like,” She scrunches her nose when she comes back with the detergent stick in his hand as she sits on the edge of the bed. “You were like puffing your chest at him or something—like you were trying to prove a point. Just because he doesn’t share the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean he’s wrong, you know?”

Harry pursed his lips as she had walked by him, feeling that her entrance into the room gave him permission to follow. He didn’t want to pry into her life if he wasn’t invited to.

“I was not puffing my chest at him, that’s ridiculous.”

He took a seat next to her on the bed as she pulled the long dress up just to her knee to try and rub the stain stick over the red wine stain before she dropped the fabric in her lap.

“Yes, you were,” She tells him, “You do that whenever a guy gets too close, like you’re trying to scare them off or something, and it’s bullshit because you don’t even give them a chance.”

“Why would I give them a chance when I can obviously tell that they’re not good for you?”

Cassidy dropped the dress fabric in her lap as she sighed a bit louder, very obviously done with the back and forth where no one would win. Her head turned towards Harry, sitting next to her now. The way that her throat tightened when their eyes met almost immediately threatened her composure.

“You never give them a chance, Harry,” She tells him with honesty in her tone; wanting him to listen to her like he had never listened before. She knew that he was hard-headed, stubborn to say the least. But she knew that when he really knew she was serious, he would back down. “I just want to make this work, okay? He’s a good guy—I promise, he is. And he would make my life comfortable. He’s looking for a wife, a family. He’s looking to settle down. We’re thirty, Harry—I want to have these commitments, even if you don’t.”

“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy, Cass—really, I—” He stops himself as he thinks of all the people he’s made promise’s too over the years, over various occasions, and conversations that he would think back to whenever he caught a glimpse of the green eyes that laid on his now.

Her mum, Barbara. Her younger brother, Antonio. Her best girlfriend from uni, Annabelle.

But her dad, Tony, was the most important for him to honor—considering he knew that he left the planet wanting Cassidy to be in the best hands; he had gotten confirmation from Harry in their last conversation that he would never let someone hurt her. And was loved, there was a guarantee that she would be loved and cherished until the end of time.

There were people in her life that had always looked at Harry as a guide, whether they meant anything by it, but they knew that Harry knew Cassidy better than anyone in the entire world. He had known every detail of her life for the twenty-some years that they had been the best of friends.

But it had always just been there– the best of friends. Saying anything different could change the whole dynamic of what that was.

“What is it? Why do you always do this to me?”

“Why do I always do this to you?” Harry questioned, setting Cassidy back a bit. She stared at him before she felt the way that their connection seemed to have a sense of distance between them. “Cassy, I thought we were going to have a weekend just the two of us. Just like we had been talking about—you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long, we haven’t spent any time together recently. You’re right—we’re thirty now. Life is going to change, but I wanted to have at least one more time where it would just be the two of us to spend laughing and making fun of people like Walton.”

Cassidy fought so hard to not smile at the name Harry gave her date, “Fuck off, you know it’s Dalton.”

“Cass, it doesn’t matter what his name is.” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes, “What matters is that you always do this to me. You always insert this jackass as if to push him in my face and practically tease me with it. And what’s with all the jokes about me being exclusive?��

Cassidy feels her shoulders deflate, her eyes batting a few times before she shakes her head. “I just want you to find the right person, too, and maybe that would make you back from me and my choices just a bit. You think that I would treat a girl you dated like that? You think I would sit there and puff out my chest and try to make my boobs look bigger to make you look at me instead of her?”

Harry shrugs. “If you were jealous enough, I’d hope you would.” He goes to say something else but quickly shakes his head as if to not speak too much.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy tells him, her eyes giving a small up and down motion as she realizes how much space was between them now.

Harry stands up, his hands moving through his hair in a frustrated motion before he goes to stand in front of her at the end of the bed. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? Just because I’m the one with the artistic eye doesn’t mean that I’m the only one who can see art, Cass. You know when we go to the galleries in new cities we travel to, and I really make you look at them? You glance at them and are like, ‘that’s a nice one’ or ‘that’s pretty’. No, I really want you to look at it—and then sometimes it makes you emotional because you can really see the way that the artist has manipulated his wrists to make the kinds of strokes that the brushwork is, or the way that the divot in the sculpture is supposed to look like it’s a flaw, but it’s intentional? And that what you didn’t see before, because you were just glancing, is really there all the time?”

Cassidy looked at Harry who was standing in front of her, his eyebrows knit and his face practically begging for her to see him. He’s begging her to recognize this game that he had been playing wasn’t a game at all, it was just a matter of time. It was a matter of wanting her to see what they could be so that he didn’t have to spell it out.

He didn’t want to push her, but he wanted her to see it for herself. First and foremost, he wanted her to want it as much as he had.

“All I’m seeing is that you’re painting me out to be the bad guy here. All you do cycle through girls like a manic—you’re sleeping with one, you’re stringing one along. You think that’s supposed to entice me?” She asks quaintly, a bit quietly as she shakes her head, looking at Harry who seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he takes in a deep breath to try and get to a level of calmness that fits his demeaner.  

“No, Cass! I just wanted you to see how in love with you I am!” The words that leave his mouth are practically begging, but they leave a sour silence in the room as Cassidy is taken by the tone Harry’s voice; his hands resting on his hips as he finishes the pacing he had been doing.

“Cassidy,” Harry swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in his throat, his voice practically faltering as he shook his head, trying so badly to get through to the words he had been looking for. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. They were never there to stay, okay? That’s why I didn’t look for exclusivity— it was never theirs. I was saving every ounce of my love and my time and my affection for you, and you never reached out to take any of it.”

Her silence hits her for a moment as she sits with her wine-stained dress in her lap on the white, linen sheets before she watches the man in front of her professing all the love and needs to her. She doesn’t feel like she can speak, but her eyes drift down to her lap as she feels all the sudden unable to find the words at all.

“Look—I’m sorry, I—I just can’t see you being with someone like this. And it physically hurts me to see you heartbroken when I know,” Harry pulls his lips into his mouth as he puts his hands on his hips, “I know that guy is going to fucking annihilate you. You’re going to fall in love with him, and he’s going to take it all and run with it. And there I’ll be, standing there, waiting for you to realize what’s been waiting for you this entire time. It’s just bound to happen.”

Cassidy sits with her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she feels the threatening of tears to spill from her eyes. She doesn’t understand the overwhelming feeling of the man’s words as she shakes her head, a sad chuckle leaving her throat as she looks up at him.

“He ordered me a pinot noir tonight,” She nods, “Told me that it was the best wine he’d ever had before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t know that you exclusively drink Cab Sav from a box, no matter what, unless you’re celebrating something big, then it’s a discounted bottle of Dom Perignon from that Lombardi’s store down from your flat,” Harry tells her with a scoff, almost like it had been a test to prove that he knew her better than anyone in the world did.

And Cassidy knew that he did, but the validation that he showed only made her tear fall with the knowledge that he didn’t just listen—he remembered, he supplied this vision of her and this want for her that didn’t come with rules or expectations.

Harry just saw her.

And in a world where you want to be seen, Cassidy just fought to be glanced at. She fought for the spot in someone’s eye, but when she thought that Harry only had eyes for art, she couldn’t have imagined what he had seen in her this entire time.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Harry shook his head, looking at the ground as he started to feeling heaps of embarrassment but knowing that the awkward silence in the room was there to stay for a few more minutes at least. “I’d never order you a fucking pinot noir.”

Cassidy nods a few more times before she looks at the stains on the dress, knowing that it’s stained for good. That the stain stick won’t work anymore but knowing that it’s sometimes okay to have something marked, in the case that you wanted it to stick around forever.

Her heart felt like it had been borrowed and bruised but watching as Harry stared down at her only made it flutter as if trying to come back from the dead.

There were three things that Cassidy had been looking forward to this week—when she had originally booked the trip, that is.

One of them was to have a large glass of Cab Sav and sit on the balcony with Harry and laugh at the way that the people were pummeled by the waves; they always got too brave and then would be smashed down by the force of the water.

The second was to be able to dance. The dancing at the weddings always made her feel like she had been letting go of every ounce of worry and detrimental work email that she had received since the last time she was dancing at a wedding. It usually felt like a cleanse.

The third was to watch people fall in love. To watch people and see that their forever was right in front of their eyes and to confirm every moment of it with vows and unspeakable glances that felt like a bound contractual agreement.

As Cassidy stood in front of Harry now, her dress a mess of stain and wet, detergent marks, her eyes searched his for a moment before she looked up at him, with a different set of eyes, this time.

They were colored in a way that felt extraordinarily bright, like she had woken up from the darkest slumber. The mask of uncertainty was laying on the floor as she felt his hands lift her jaw to look at him, his feet taking a step forward.

“I think they say this at weddings,” He squinted at her, the line of a smirk coating his face as he kept his words quiet. Her hand moved up to hold his wrist as she bit on her lip softly, feeling the way that their lips tried to find one another—slow, encapsulated by an intense amount of tension, “’Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?”

The silence between them spoke for itself.

Harry pulled her forward, not rushed, but certainly not waiting a second longer. His lips attached to hers in a way that felt every single day of the last twenty years; the kiss that could have lasted the rest of his life without a doubt in his mind.

It was what was bound to happen all along; there just had to be a few frogs before the real prince revealed himself.

Well, that’s what Harry told himself, anyways. Cassidy would just roll her eyes, but knew that at the end of the day, it had always been him.

Exclusively him.

[lostinforestbound]

Again.

He'll do it again, over and over and over because he has to. If he adjusts the somatic component just slightly-

Rolan casts Thunderwave again, and it strains his already weary body. He's been practicing the same spell for hours, but the results remain the same, if not weaker than before each time. It angers him that he can't do this right. Why can't he do it? He's supposed to an Archmage for gods sake! He's supposed to be better by now, after all this practice and his intricate studies, he has to be better.

It can't be all for nothing.

Again.

This time, the spell utterly fails as he shouts in pain, the muscles in his hands finally straining.

"Useless boy," Lorroakan tuts in his head, "Unable to take a little pain? Do you think your opponent will let you catch your breath?"

That man won't stop talking, and he fights the stinging wetness in his eyes as he collapses to his knees, pulling his hands into his chest. They hurt, more than they should. The joints are numb and he can't feel the tips of his fingers. No, no, he can't lose the weave, it's all he has, it's all he has.

Bile threatens to touch his throat, and he feels as though he's going to vomit any minute. The study room is fuzzy, his eyes hurt, his chest is too tight-

He has to do it again. He needs to protect his family, he can't fail. He can't. He needs to cast it again-

"Love," a voice calls out, and it's right next to him.

His head turns into a cupped hand, Tav's thumb wiping a stray tear that managed to escape him.

"My hands-" he wheezes out, having trouble finding breath.

"Let me see."

His troublesome hands shake as he holds them up, and Tav quietly looks them over as he tries to calm from his panic. "They're strained, love, you've been overworking them," they say, gently massaging them.

"The spell needs to be better. I have-" he swallows, "I have to protect you."

"You've already done that, Rolan."

"He hurt you."

"And he's dead. Lorroakan can't hurt me," they murmur, hand moving away from his own to tilt his head up, "and he can't hurt you. We're fine, my love. You need to sleep, you've been up too long."

"I can't-"

"Yes you can, we're okay," they plant a kiss to his forehead and nose, "you're allowed to rest."

He suddenly pulls away and stands up, surprising them as he snaps. "You should go to bed, I need to get this right."

"Rolan-"

"Go to bed. I'll be...I'll be right behind you." He mutters dismissively, grabbing a book to look through the components again.

He doesn't see the way Tav reaches out to him, and how they hesitate before giving up, leaving the room. He doesn't see the tears, or how they hug themselves as they shut the door.

Even with the pain in his hands, he gets ready to cast Thunderwave again. One more time, just one more time.

Again.

[queenjunothegreat]

Go For It, Jason!!

Excerpt from an abandoned HS AU

“Percy,” Jason hissed, clutching Percy’s hand tight in his own. “I do not got this!”

“Yes, you do!” Percy hissed back. “All you have to do is tell Piper and Leo that we’re having a little party at our place this weekend, and Annabeth suggested inviting them. It’s super easy, you just have to be normal.”

“‘Be normal!’ What kind of advice is that!?”

“It’s advice you obviously need on a daily basis!”

Jason groaned and slid down one of the sets of lockers. “This was such a bad idea,” he whined. “I can just go back to being obsessed with him from afar, right? I don’t actually have to talk to him.”

“So you admit it? You’re obsessed with him?”

“Obviously I’m obsessed with him, Percy! I drew our joint tombstone!”

Percy heaved a deep sigh and slid down the lockers to sit while Jason pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face in them. He was suddenly reminded of when he and Percy were in elementary school and Percy had gotten in trouble for punching another kid who wouldn’t leave Jason alone during “egg time.” He pressed his face harder into his knees and tried to ignore the way he wanted to cry a little bit. He wasn’t a baby.

“Look, man,” Percy said gently after a few moments of silence, “I’m not going to sit here and tell you you’ve got to talk to him. Because you don’t. If you wanna just have a crush on this guy for the rest of the year without telling him then move on to college and find someone else to dump all your weird obsessive tendencies on, you totally can. People ignore high school crushes literally every day. It’s probably the most normal thing about you.” Jason snorted and he could hear the smirk Percy gave in reply. “If you really don’t wanna do this, I’m not gonna make you. It’s your call, Jace.”

“Thanks,” Jason mumbled into his knees.

“Buuuuuuut…” Jason groaned loudly, and Percy snickered. “I do think it’s a good idea. I mean, what have you got to lose? Either they say yes, you convince Leo to fall in love with you and you live happily ever after; they say yes, it turns out Leo isn’t your type at all once you get to know him, and you just move on; or they say no and you have a perfectly valid excuse to go back to your stalker status.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s more than just three outcomes,” Jason pointed out. “What if they just laugh at me?”

“Then I’ll kick their asses,” Percy scowled. “They can fuck right off if they’re going to act like that.”

“Thanks, man,” Jason smiled softly, leaning forward to headbutt Percy on the shoulder.

“So, what’s the plan?” Percy asked casually. “You want me to stick around here while you talk to them, or you wanna head to the cafeteria? I think I overheard one of the Stolls say that they had churros today.”

Jason considered that. He did really like churros. He shook his head. “Let’s get this done and we’ll get churros after.”

“You got it, bro.”

Jason stood, and led the way into the library over to where Piper and Leo had commandeered a pair of bean bag chairs and were building a very impressive house of cards out of an Uno deck. Apparently, Jason’s arrival shifted the airflow just slightly, and the house came tumbling down while Piper and Leo both swore at it in a fun mix of English, Spanish, and French. Jason winced. “Uh, sorry. My bad. I think.” Piper and Leo both looked up at him, wide-eyed and blinked. Obviously, they hadn’t noticed Jason’s approach. He smiled awkwardly and lifted a hand to wave. “Uh, hi.”

Leo scoffed and rolled his eyes and exchanged a look with Piper. “I got this, Beauty Queen.”

“Of course you do,” she hummed, rolling her eyes.

Before Jason could ask what they meant, Leo was on his feet, arms folded across his chest and giving Jason a very unimpressed once-over. “Look. Blondie. No, not Blondie. Superman? Yeah, I like Superman.”

“My name’s Jason.”

“Uh, sure. Okay. Anyway. Superman. She’s not interested.”

Jason felt his eyebrows knit together. “She’s not interested in what?”

“In you. Duh,” Leo scoffed. “I know someone who looks like you probably doesn’t hear that often.”

“I’m… confused.”

“Of course you are.” For some reason, Leo looked incredibly irritated, but Jason still wasn’t sure what he did wrong. “Look, I don’t know how much more plainly I can put it. She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Date. You.”

“Oh.” Jason blinked and cocked his head to the side. “That’s fine.”

At once, all the wind fell out of Leo’s sails, and now he was the one who looked confused. “That’s… fine?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna date her either.” His eyes widened and he looked at Piper apologetically. “No offense. You seem nice, and you’re very pretty. Whoever you do want to date is probably very lucky.”

Piper snorted, but she was smiling, so it didn’t seem mean. “Thanks, Jason.”

Jason smiled widely at her, but Leo just looked even more baffled. “Then… what are you doing over here?”

“I did actually come to invite her to a party,” he admitted. “Both of you, actually.”

“A… party?”

“Well, kind of,” Jason said hesitantly. “The apartment complex Percy and I live in opened up the pool for summer last weekend, so we were inviting our friends over. Annabeth suggested that the two of you might want to come.”

Leo’s eyes widened, and he turned furiously on Piper. “You know Annabeth?” he hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s none of your business,” Piper told him, sticking out her tongue. 

“If I had known he had a mutual friend with you, maybe I wouldn’t have been a dick to him.” As if his own words just registered, Leo winced and ducked his head, looking up at Jason through his lashes. “Uh, sorry about that. By the way.”

Jason took a moment to reset his brain after it got fried, then smiled at Leo. “It’s cool, man. You were just looking out for your friend. I get that. I think it’s sweet.”

“You think it’s sweet. Cool. Coolcoolcool. I’m gonna go play in traffic now.”

Jason tipped his head back and laughed, probably louder than he should, but he couldn’t help it. He grinned so wide his eyes were squinting up, which made looking at Leo harder than it needed to be, which wasn’t ideal, but, once again, he couldn’t help it. “Please don’t. You’re probably going to traumatize the poor cars.”

“Nah, don’t worry, I’m too small to get hit by cars. I just lay down, and they pass right over me.”

Jason folded his hand over his mouth to at least somewhat muffle his giggles. “A very impressive skill.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a special boy and all that.”

“I can imagine.”

Leo immediately turned bright red, and Piper tagged in, letting him hide his entire torso under a bean bag chair instead of talking more. She grinned at Jason. “So. You said there was a party? Where at?”

“Mine and Percy’s place,” Jason said distractedly, still observing Leo’s attempts to become one with the rug. “We’re over at Sunset on the Waves. There’s a subway station right across the street from us.”

“I think I know it. It’s over kinda close to Central Park, right?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Jason said. “We’re all getting together Saturday around two, if you think you can make it.”

“We’ll definitely be there,” Piper agreed. “Do we need to bring anything?”

Jason shook his head. “Nah, we’ve got it. Just show up whenever.”

“Cool.” Piper turned and kicked Leo in the ankle. “Tell Jason thanks for inviting us out. Now we have an excuse to not watch those dumb soap operas with my mom.”

“Thanks, Superman,” Leo said, though his voice was muffled, almost indistinguishable, by the bean bag chair.

“Thanks for agreeing,” Jason replied earnestly. “Uh, I’ve got to go, though. The librarian kind of hates me.”

“You are a lot louder than you probably realize,” Piper agreed, then winced. “Sorry, that came out way meaner than I meant it to. You’re just a loud guy. It’s cool. I like it. Leo’s also super loud. You match.”

“Cool,” Jason agreed, consciously trying to lower his volume, which made Piper snicker at him. He grinned at them and waved. “See you this weekend.”

“See you!” Piper and Leo chimed in perfect unison at his retreating  back.

When he finally made it back to Percy’s side, he groaned and yanked his shirt up over his head. “Okay, I did it.”

“How did it go? They don’t look like they’re laughing. Well, actually, I think Piper is laughing, maybe.”

“Pretty sure she’s laughing at Leo,” Jason told him. “And it could have definitely gone… worse? They agreed to come.”

“Nice! That’s great, dude!”

“Leo did try to intimidate me out of asking Piper on a date, though.”

Percy snorted so hard it sounded like it hurt. “Well, he definitely doesn’t have to worry about that.”

Jason finally decided to emerge from his shirt so that he could grin at Percy. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Percy clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, dude.”

“Thanks.” Jason took a moment to just bask in the praise before he frowned and tilted his head to the side. “Percy, am I loud?” Percy barked out a bright, friendly laugh. “Dude, you are so loud. Come on. Let’s go get some churros.”

[sasukimimochi]

The sound of low, raspy humming of a familiar tune took his attention away, lifting his head to gaze into the nearby forest of Yiling. “Wei Ying?”

Following his siren song, Lan Wangji shook as he brought himself to his feet. He grimaced in pain, taking a few shallow breaths but never able to breathe too deeply. The ache in his back forced him to stop routinely, but he couldn’t give up now… The melody was so close.

He pushed forward, stumbling into dense foliage and pushing it aside painfully. “Wei Ying…?” His body froze, pupils shrinking in shock.

Sitting upright against a tree in the distance was a corpse holding a young child, and not just any corpse and child. It was Wei Wuxian with Wen Yuan. Calmly drifting around the corpse was a thick resentment, moving like a living thing protecting its young. The moment the two were stumbled upon though, the humming came to an abrupt halt and the resentment curled around the two protectively.

Despite Wei Wuxian not turning his head nearly as quickly as he usually would to figure out who had stumbled upon them, the resentment reared itself almost like a feral animal in defense, giving the two a wide berth from the Lan.

“...Wei Ying…A-Yuan?” Lan Wangji managed, his heart falling to his feet.

He was too late.

this first art for TDKW! What do you guys think? v//w//v i rly like this one im proud of it

See More for TDKW below the line!

“The Dead Keep Walking” / TDKW - General rating* *maybe Teen if gross things are described, tbh more likely to be teen but not sure.

TDKW is a short project I have planned centered around LWJ finding the dead body of WWX and A-Yuan is with him- but WWX is undead and walking. WWX may be a corpse, but he is conscious- a bit more like TGCF in that sense for plot reasons, but I may provide a sort of "as canon as possible" answer to fit more into mdzs properly. maybe something like a tag he attached to his skin or something before death combined with resentment from his living body.

WWX is not completely right in the head; he repeats things a lot, has lost the ability partially to actually debate with people (he will just repeat himself when he knows he's correct or wants something) has an uncharacteristically flat expression because of his state and his movements aren't always too fluid. he is however still good at protecting, as his resentment still resides with him in death. he has become more unapologetically feral as a result.

There's not a lot of information I can share yet for this fic, but I wanted to share it since I have been thinking about it for quite some time!

A R T:

Broken Lullaby Sparkles and fretting

Music Playlist!

Find more MDZS art/projects on my masterpost! ❤

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

The Morning After

Because we all need a little AM fluff sometimes lmao xx

A sharp sun ray hits his eyes, forcing him to squint before opening them again. He smiles. Everything hurts. Travis closes his eyes once more, exhaustion taking over his body and mind. There's a sharp contrast in the air: the cold breeze of the bedroom AC in this Vegas hotel, compared to the warm sun ray filtering through the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows. He hears a drawer opening and closing, a little spoon rustling. He realizes in that moment that he's alone in bed. The worst way to wake up today.

A strong and exhausted arm moves across the bed, almost as if reaching for the ghost of her. He sighs, having lost all sense of time and place. He won the Super Bowl. He did it. He did it all because of her.

Travis sighs again, feels himself get emotional again. Emotional, and.. drunk. He's forcing himself to pull the expensive blanket from his torso. Fully naked from the night before, he leaves the bedroom of the presidential suite. His entire body aches, yet the view before him makes him smile for the first time this morning. At the end of the room, he sees a tall blonde, wearing nothing but his shirt, fumbling with the coffee machine. She steps on her tiptoes for a second, reaching for one of the coffee pads from the shelf above the little coffee station. She's still not wearing any underwear, clearly having thrown his shirt over her body when she got up. He smiles and keeps on walking barefoot towards her, not hesitating for a moment before wrapping his big, strong arms around her.

She startles for a second, her cold hands and the little familiar giggle he loves so much in his ear. Travis sniffs into her neck, pressing his face as close as possible. Inaudible kisses reach her skin and a few strands of hair from her neck in between. This is where he always wants to be. Nuzzled into her skin.

"Oh my god, I literally didn’t hear you get up," she murmurs, both her hands now on his that are right on her stomach. She sounds tired and exhausted, just like he is. After a moment, Travis lets go of her neck, helping her turn around in his arms. The view makes him smile even more. Her eyes are puffy, puffier than she probably likes them to be in front of him, and her hair from last night is all over the place. But he adores seeing her like this. He adores climbing onto this next stage of their relationship together. She’s probably as hungover as he is. No question. This isn't the best version of herself. And he loves that he gets to experience it. He loves that he gets to love it, with every fiber of his being. Just the way she deserves.

"Good morning, sweetie." he murmurs, and she smiles tiredly, placing both her hands on his cheeks before giving him a proper good morning kiss on the lips. He pulls back and laughs quietly, his forehead meeting hers.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, feeling clearly that she's exhausted, more than usual. This is a next-stage tired Taylor he hasn’t encountered yet. Her eyes small, her face is pale and her hands cold. She seems off to him, seems a little more quiet than she usually is.

"Yeah, great…" She mumbles with a hint of sarcasm in her voice that makes him smile. "Woke up with a sore throat and my head exploding. I think the jet lag and alcohol just got the best of me."

Travis nods, his lips immediately finding her forehead again. He kisses her right over her bangs, both his arms rubbing her bare arms, almost as if this could make her hangover go away.

"Last week was a lot, baby."

She nods, her hands now on his chest while he holds her securely in his arms. She doesn’t even notice that he's naked. It's all about being close to him.

"Advil?"

"Yeah, I just feel like I need to eat first. How are you feeling?" She asks, looking up at her tall boyfriend. His eyes are tiny and he's a lot paler than usual. But she's not really surprised. He really went hard last night.

"I’m okay. I feel great. Might still be a bit drunk actually, but…"

She laughs. He nuzzles his face into her neck again, almost embarrassed.

"I'm sorry if it was a lot last night. I mean… from my side."

"What do you mean?"

"I was… drunk. In another sphere."

Taylor looks at him and laughs, her hands now gently caressing his face.

"I know. Me too. Trav, you are on top of the world right now. You were allowed to have fun last night,"

Travis looks into her eyes and nods slowly. Sometimes he looks at her and can’t believe she's here, can't believe she's his, through and through.

"Hey, I love you."

She smiles slowly, her fingers on his cheek. The unspeakable things he makes her feel. Things she thought she could never feel again.

"I love you, babe."

He kisses her again. She sighs into the kiss this time. The little counter with the coffee machine still against her lower back. But she doesn’t care. His kisses just make her forget that what she needed so badly a few moments ago was coffee.

Just as they pull back, Taylor takes a good look at him, then giggles again.

"What?"

"I love you, but that beard has to go."

He grins.

"Okay, deal. But first, how about I get you some breakfast and a proper coffee, hmm? And some Advil."

She nods, cuddling herself into his arms again. She loves his smell, and she loves feeling so loved up by his big arms. It's been a while since home was a person. It's been a while since she's felt so safe and seen in someone’s presence.

"Please. I need a large coffee. A large, iced latte with almond milk and vanilla syrup. Please. And a breakfast burrito," she mumbles into his chest, making him laugh a little louder. His voice is still rusty from last night, and he knows why. There's been a lot of singing, screaming, and smoking involved.

"Okay, my love. Coming through. Go lay down for a bit now," he says gently and kisses her cheek a few times. She smiles, nods, then steals another kiss. He closes his eyes, pressing her a little closer. He doesn’t want this kiss to end. He doesn’t want to let go of her either. Her smell, her lips, her little hands on his cheeks. He loves this woman more than anything he's ever loved. It's scary, it's beautiful. It's life.

Taylor slowly lets go of him, smiling at him one last time before stepping back into bed. He looks after her, about to search for his phone in the hotel suite, when she turns around again.

"Hey, Trav."

"Mhm?"

"I’m so proud of you. Did I tell you that today already?"

Travis smiles slowly, a gentleness in his eyes he’s not used to himself.

"You did."

"Good," she answers, grabbing the sheets on the bed and letting herself fall into the soft mattress.

[eldritch-ambrosia]

“What?” Merlin finally asks, his voice dripping with annoyance from across the king’s chambers. 

Arthur fumbles with his parchments, averting his gaze and raising his eyebrow at a page that was most certainly not upside down, heat rushing to his cheeks, 

“Hm?”

“Arthur!” He says warningly.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well then, stop watching me!” Merlin rolls his eyes, leaning back down to grab for the sponge he had thrown in his frustration. “I’m doing my job, aren’t I?”

Arthur scoffs. “I’m not-”

“I can feel your eyes burning into the back of my skull, you prick.”

He wavers.

“I’m just… thinking.”

“Oh well don’t hurt yourself,” Merlin grumbles, scrubbing a particular part of the chamber floor harder. A wine stain that they both know won’t come off clean, from years prior, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. Trying to clean or trying to annoy Arthur though, he couldn’t really be sure. 

He finally sighs, tossing the sponge back into the bucket, and stretching out his back. “What are you thinking about?”

He considers not answering. He’s the king, he can demand anything he wants from his servants, including leaving him the hell alone. Though that didn’t usually seem to work with Merlin and there were some conversations he couldn’t avoid forever. 

“Why didn’t you accept the position on the council?”

Merlin turns to him fully now, head tilted in confusion. “What?”

“You could be in your own chambers right now. Large, lavish chambers,” he emphasizes, placing his parchment back down. “Dining and drinking wine and preparing for bed. Instead of… this.”

“My knees are getting a bit worn for this part, to be honest.” He says, standing and curving his back slightly, the crack of his bones echoing awkwardly through the chamber. “But I couldn’t do that to whatever poor fool would end up getting this job instead. I wouldn’t want to punish someone with your dirty socks and poor habits.”

“Hey-!”

“And then who would help Gaius? I am still his assistant, even if you seem to forget that. You’re telling me that you want Gaius to train someone entirely new to take over after him?” He crosses his arms, tutting disappointedly. “I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. It was just like him to throw off a serious question about himself with some long winded complaining or stabbing at Arthur’s character. 

Now, though, he knew why.

Merlin shrugs, drying off his hands with a spare cloth, his eyes scanning the room. He always did this before it was time to get Arthur ready for bed, a final once over of a job mostly well done. 

“You asked.”

“Because I wanted an honest answer. Not your usual prattle.”

“I am being honest.” Merlin insists, though his voice wavers.

Sighing, Arthur finally pushes forward. “Is it because you want to stay by my side? Because you and I can’t be parted?”

“What?” His head jerks, his knuckles gripping the cloth tighter.

“If that is the reason, we can still be together when you’re a council member! Hell, you’ll be a nobleman so you can stay near me without having to serve. Get off your feet for a while.”

“You’re talking nonsense, Arthur.”

“I know, Merlin.” He says gently, standing. “I know.”

Merlin’s eyes are wide as he swallows hard, and Arthur is sure he can see him shaking. “I don’t-” His voice cracks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s okay,” Arthur says, approaching his servant as if he were an anxious cat and not his closest friend. “I heard you and Lancelot talking in the training room a few weeks ago.”

He considers what Arthur’s said, his eyes darting back and forth before they settle on the king. “And you’re just… fine with it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say fine with it. I wish you’d have told me, at the very least.” He stops, only a few feet in front of the other man. “But, I suppose, yes. I’ve thought a lot about it and I don’t think we should be parted either.”

“Really?” He asks, blinking owlishly. 

Arthur nods, reaching a hand out to his shoulder. “I want you by my side, Merlin. Whether that’s as my servant or as my advisor, you will always be the person I turn to first.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, though his eyes are still shining. “I don’t want you to do this just because you feel bad. And what would the other advisors say? And the knights?”

“They’ll have to go through me then. And I don’t think making an enemy of the King of Camelot will really go well for them. Do you?”

“An enemy?” Merlin smiles and Arthur feels his whole body sigh in relief. “Do you really mean that?”

“I do.” A pause hangs between them, a familiar and comfortable silence. Merlin brings his hand up to Arthur’s, gently holding onto where the king’s hand rests on his shoulder, and Arthur can’t help but think that to stay here, in this moment, would bring him utter peace. 

He’d never admit that, not to Merlin, or anyone else for that matter, but he could accept it for himself and that would be enough.

“Is, um, there anything I have to do to… move forward?”

“For your job, not at all. I’ll take care of everything.” Merlin nods, grinning softly. “But for us, can you tell me? I don’t want to know just from overhearing you and Lancelot. I want you to tell me the truth. Please.”

Merlin’s grin widens, his grasp on Arthur’s wrist tightening. “Okay. Let me just…” And he leans forward, tilting his head down ever so slightly, pressing his lips to a startled Arthur’s.

The king freezes, heat rushing to his face, and he can feel his chest tightening as Merlin pulls back.

“I love you,” Merlin murmurs in the air between them and Arthur can see it in his eyes. Which means that Merlin can see the absolute shock in his in return. Merlin’s face falls. “What?”

“You… what?”

“I… You said you knew!” Merlin accuses, attempting to pull back but Arthur’s grip on his shoulder tightens. “You shouldn’t be… I mean, you know that! Obviously, you know that, right? Why else would you have said all that?”

Arthur’s red in the face, sputtering and feeling like an absolute idiot. “I know about your magic, Merlin! I had no idea-”

“My what?!”

~~~

I know it's been done before but I'm a sucker for this trope. The only way I'm okay with miscommunication. Whatever you think happens next, it absolutely does :)

Hoping to write more Merlin blurbs to motivate me to finish my multichapter fics because writer's block is a bitch.

[mxxnlightsxnata]

And she embraced Death in a kiss, forever filled with hatred and grief, but not able to deny that her heartstrings ached for the woman standing before her. Part of her understood that Rio had just been doing her job when she'd taken Nicky's soul, and longed for the two to be how they were before, but the stronger part of her was so very angry at her former lover. What a complicated web they had woven. Agatha felt her life force ebbing as their kiss escalated, and she only hoped the son of her former best friend would be spared.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

I was drawing DM Mikey's shell and the more I draw it, the more I realize it looks kinda like Raph's shell...

So I started to imagine...

Raph noticed it first, but hadn't said anything. He wasn't sure why Mikey's shell looked the way it did. But how it happened couldn't be anything good. It was cracked, shattered, split into pieces that rolled over themselves. Mikey's shell had once been a work of art. Now, it was a scribbled out, torn up version of what Raphael's spiky shell looked like. He wasn't sure anyone else had noticed it. But he wasn't going to bring it up just yet. Mikey had been through enough torment, and Raph wasn't sure if this would be a trigger for him or not. Besides... it just served as another mocking reminder of what had happened.

Leo was the one who recognized the similarities next. It had happened while Mikey was scuttling around his little jungle gym, and had his back turned. Leo managed to glance up at him the right way, and suddenly pointed.

"Hey Raph, doesn't Mikey's shell look kinda like--"

Raph immediately slapped his hand over Leon's face.

"Mmmf -- hey!" he yelled, angrily pulling his big brother's hand down so he could speak again. "What was that for?!"

"Don't say anything about it yet," Raph begged. "Please?"

Leo didn't understand, but complied. At the very least, he didn't want to get slapped again. He kept his mouth shut.

But Donnie noticed it too. He and April were in the labs, going over one of Mikey's x-rays when April suddenly pointed out the obvious.

"Ah yes," Donnie replied with a nod. "I was wondering if anyone else had seen that."

"Do you think Raph knows?" she asked.

"I mentioned it to him. Apparently Leo also said something, and I'm pretty sure Papa also noticed it. But Raph said not to mention it again."

"Why?"

"I think he's still on edge about everything. He's been walking on eggshells ever since we got Mikey home. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

That didn't sound like Raph. Sure, he was overly cautious at times, but this felt different. Something was off about this. So she went looking for him to figure it out.

"Raph? Hey, big guy?"

April tapped the door to his train car. He was sitting alone, reading a Lou Jitsu biography. He looked up with a smile when he saw his big sister.

"Oh, hey April! What's up?"

"I, uh, wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, what is it?"

April strolled inside and sat next to Raphael. She took a deep breath and did her best to channel her own version of 'Dr. Delicate Touch'.

"Why'd you tell everyone not to talk about Mikey's shell?"

Raph froze.

"Oh. That type of question."

"What did you think I was gonna ask, something about my homework?"

"I was kinda hoping," Raph said sheepishly with a shrug and a half-smile.

Raph twiddled his fingers and sighed. His tail swung lazily over the side of his bed as he tried to answer the question.

"...I guess... I just felt bad. I mean, Mikey's shell used to be so beautiful, it was bright and colourful and -- well, you get the idea. And now... it's all broken. It's just another reminder that he's different now, and how he's hurting now, and that... it was... my fault."

"Aww, man," April sighed as she took his hand. "You can't just blame yourself for this. You had no idea what would happen --"

"But I should have known something, I should have done better, and now... now he looks like... I dunno. But he doesn't look anything like himself anymore. And the fact that his shattered shell resembles mine? It just serves as a constant sign that he's that way because I failed him."

Raph's hands trembled as he cried. April comforted him as best she could. She knew this whole ordeal was a lot on them, and they were doing all they could to help Mikey get back to normal. She hadn't considered that the fact Mikey's shell looked similar to Raph's would have been even more of a reminder that he was different and broken.

April sighed and went along with Raph's wishes. She didn't agree with Raph's decision; or at least she didn't like his reasons behind the decision. But she stayed quiet.

But then one day Mikey was with Raphael, climbing all over his brother as he usually did to play with him, when he suddenly stopped, and started examining Raph's shell.

"Hmm..."

"Mikey?" Raph asked, twisting to try and see what his little brother was up to. "What's wrong? Whaddya doin' back there?"

Mikey suddenly gasped and wriggled around to face him, eyes wide and excited.

"Rrrrraphie! Raphie, look!!"

He pointed to Raph's back, tapping the spikes and scutes on his shell before twisting his own back so Raph could see Mikey's beaten, broken, and battered shell.

"My sh-sh-shell looks just l-l-like yours!"

Raph's face fell.

"...Uh, y-yeah, it kinda does. Wait, do you actually like that? You like that our shells look alike now?"

"Yes!!" Mikey cheers. "Mikey looks just Raph now! I-I look just like m-my big brrrotherrr!"

Raph stared in shock at Mikey for a moment. His lip quivered and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to keep from crying. Raphael gently took Mikey off of his shoulders and wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you, Mikey.... I was so worried that you'd hate it...."

"Huh? W-Why would I hate it? It rrrrreminds me of you! And I love y-you, Raphie. I love you a lot!"

Raph sobbed quietly into Mikey's shoulders as he embraced him tighter. Mikey pat him on the back, not sure why he was crying, but confident that they were tears of joy.

"I love you too, big man...."

@boots-with-the-fur-club

[almightygremlinblob]

Snippet of an upcoming Yandere!Yuji fic. As usual, Gender-neutral Reader; no pronouns used for them or parts explicitly stated.

Smut under the cut, so minors DNI pls. I don't condone this behaviour irl and neither should you

⚠️CONTENT WARNINGS⚠️: SA, Aged Up Yuji (HC-ing him as mid 20's in this one), Reader dissociates just a little bit (only mentioned), teensie bit of yandere themes if you squint, actual fic will be a Yan!Yuji one.

You were the first he visited after he was reported dead.

You didn't have time to protest as his lips crashed onto yours in a sloppy and messy kiss. One of his hands kneading your hips while the other was placed on the small of your back, roughly pressing your body against his. It didn't take much after that. Clothes strewn all over the floor, your mind not all there as he kept his relentless, careless pace - hips bucking all sloppy and nearly breaking the bedframe in his haze. Moaning in between his panting, completely drunk on your body as his thick cock moved in and out of you. Only stopping once he's fucked several loads into you and he's made you come more times than you could keep track of.

The morning after, Yuji would mumble onto the back of your neck, thanking you for being the one to take his virginity away. Kissing you gently and lazily in a mockery of intimacy…as if he hadn't violated you the night before. He confessed to you that morning. Eyes watery as he let out all the feelings he'd kept under the rug for so long. Scared, that he'd pushed you away.

You guessed that maybe a part of him knew deep down what he did, even if he made excuses as to why.

Fic now posted. Warning; dark. Hooray, I'm alive again! Feels so good getting back into my more creative side after a BIG slump. Hopefully I can get rid of this cold soon, too.

[pendarling]

Redo

Death wasn't a particularly new concept to Whumper, but they may have taken it a bit further this time.

"Whumpee? Whumpee!"

Whumper dropped the hammer onto the concrete ground and knelt beside Whumpee's disjointed figure. They lay still with their eyes half-lidded and unresponsive.

"Shit."

They got up again and ran out of the room, panic growing in their chest. They couldn't risk losing Whumpee; it was just to scare them, just to torment them to get a message across-- not…

Whumper stopped their searching and found the medkit in the cabinets; there was still time. They could save them. Healing was never their best suit, but hopefully, with whatever little knowledge they had, it would suffice.

They stumbled back into the room and immediately got to work. Their hands were shaking, their pulse rapidly accelerating, and their vision was lost in the dark bruises littered all over their skin.

How was Whumpee able to take all this strain?

They should've been more careful-- Whumper wiped another blood stain across Whumpee's hips and tightly bandaged the growing pool of blood near their leg.

They'd be fine… that's right. Whumpee was able to last this long, sure they've had their moments of spiralling out of control, but physically, they would be relatively okay.

Whumper hesitantly took Whumpee's small, pale figure in as they lifted them from the hard floor. They were so nimble and cold; their face had become different now that they inspected them. Dark bags hung under their eyes, and a barely audible shuttering noise with every breath they took.

Their thoughts couldn't help but begin to feel guilty. They'd never felt so attached to someone like Whumpee before, but assuming the time spent with them had made them closer.

…

Whumpee had never felt so confused as then; the room was brighter than expected, and their eyes took a while to focus on the figure staring remorsefully across from them. A glass of liquid pouring into a cup had woken them up from their deep slumber.

Whumpee parted their dried lips slightly as if to speak but could only cough in uneven patterns. Their chest heaved right before Whumper raised their head and calmed their nerves.

"Relax, Whumpee." They pushed a glass of water to their lips. The chilling drink imprinted inside of them.

The other set them down cautiously onto the pillow and blinked a few more times when they heard a glass set down next to their head, a nightstand, they suspected. Where were they?

Whumper tilted their head at Whumpee's expression. It was only natural they'd respond so confused; after all, they'd never been let out of the basement before, not even so far as upstairs.

They watched as Whumpee's eyes drifted back to Whumper. Something unfamiliar etched across their face as soon as the palm of their hand met their forehead.

"I knew you could make it." finally, a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

Whumper froze in their spot, and for a second, just a minute… they thought-- could they start over? This would be their chance. But then again, wouldn't it be unethical? They certainly wouldn't want to scare Whumpee and revive those traumas, primarily since they've only recently understood that maybe Whumpee was worth keeping.

There wasn't anyone else in this world who they'd been insistent on keeping for so long. There wasn't even the tiniest hint of interest in anyone else; no one could entertain them like Whumpee could… or did. Their entertainment, of course, had changed, and now all they could think about was how to fix their dreadful mistake.

It was all too much; they couldn't do this. No.

"Whumpee, what are you saying? You know me."

An empty stare was all they received, but truly, in all their honesty, Whumpee had tried to recollect any memories at all.

"I didn't-- I mean, there's no way you hit your head this hard."

"I hit… my head?"

Here it comes, the lies; they couldn't stop once they started. Whumper licked their lips, creasing their brows as they cultivated their next moves.

"Yes."

Whumpee picked themselves up and scanned the homely room. "Oh."

"Don't worry. I'll care for you, Whumpee."

There it was. That smile. That unknowing gullible smile. Was this what being good felt like? It felt… new.

~~~

MASTERLIST

[queenjunothegreat]

“So, I have good news, and I have bad news,” Piper announced as she sat down across from Jason at the Zeus table. “Which one do you want first?”

Jason pursed his lips as he seriously considered his options. “Bad news.”

Piper made a loud, incorrect buzzer sound at him. “Wrong answer, you’re getting the good news first.”

Jason scowled. “Why did you even bother to ask?”

“I respect the illusion of free will and choice.”

[fromtheberrybush]

Egret Remembers

Egret remembers Berry- but isn't happy to know that the thing that's been alluding him about his life was something so utterly controllable. So he thinks. This is the conversation that follows..

tws: i actually don't know?? arguments, toxic family dynamics, referenced groomimg (v v vague- its like one scentence), sui attemp refence (not explicitly but if you know egret lore then yk)

His glare was piercing. Everything Berry thought it would be, and it hurt more than fae could ever imagine.

Maybe Berry was being selfish by holding those stolen memories so dear. Maybe it could be called self preservation.

"You fucking coward- you think you can just run away-? You left me there!"

"..." Berry stayed silent. There was no argument there- fae left him alone in that house.

"I thought-" Fae tried.

"Ya thought what-? That I wouldn't ever find out? That you'd finally be rid of me? That you'd escape-"

"THAT YOU'D HAVE IT BETTER-! They liked you- your life.. it should've been better.." Faer words started as a shout, shrinking in on themselves and ending as a whisper.

"..." Egret scoffed after a moment of silence, "Well- that fuckin' worked out didn't it-? I'm in Yokohama because Mom and Dad can't even look at me now- and you don't even know why."

Berry looks pained as he stops breathing for a second, "I know.. that it sounds bad but-"

"Do you-? Do you know that-?!"

"Fuck-! Yes- kid- I know that. I could- I could get to know you, if you'd let me-"

"You've long missed that chance, Ray. I'm not your fucking brother. You gave that up"

"...you're right. I'm sorry- for all it's worth"

"It's worth nothing."

It was nothing new- nothing Berry hadn't been telling faerself for the last four years.

But at least then fae had the fond memories of Egrets to lie to faerself. Now all he had was the disappointed stares of his parents and the hatred in the eyes of the brother he holds so dear.

Yeah, it's okay that Egrets would never forgive faer- because Berry wouldn't forgive faerself either.

"... You know, you're just like Mom and Dad. You can't even look at me- you can't bare to face your own fuck up. You wanna live in a fake reality with a fake family and replace what you had- and you can't even look at me." Egret sounded tired now- not angry or sad. Just tired.

Berry couldn't look at him. Fae couldn't look into the eyes and fae created- the hatred fae caused where there was once adoration.

But fae could say one thing, "It's not fake. What I've made for myself. And it's not replacing them- or you. It's just.. different."

"Fuck you and your 'different'- fuck that when I was stuck with Mom and Dad and their dinner parties and fake smiles and no one else. So forgive me for not being fucking estatic to hear you found something better than me and our fucked up family"

"I didn't say better-"

"-you didn't have to Ray-!" For the first time in a while tears welled in Egret's eyes. A weakness he'd sooner die than let anyone else see- yet here he was.

He continued, "You're happy- you can play happy big brother when I wasn't enough for you to stay with. I'm not an idiot"

Berry didn't look at him, "... I thought you were gonna be okay there."

"You thought wrong."

~~~~~~

blaaaah take this-

its not good ugh, but its here!! Don't kill me for berry & egret angst-

this happens in current timeline canon (or wtvr i call it)

tags!! @doakarma @aredeemantagonist @oscarsgallery @ezra-dark-shadow @myluckymoon @justsigma-bsd @paintedgrilledcheese (im trying to add new ppl just lmk if you dont wanna be tagged in stuff on the future) @the-fallen-collective @ilovefukuchi (i didnt forget u lil sis- shut up"

[ignoredbellyaches]

SANCTUS, SANCTUS, SANCTUS...

Priest!Ford makes his mission with Cipher known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: Self mutilation implied (not acted out). It's important to note that yes, Ford in this story is Catholic, and his original character IS born and raised Jewish. I'm not changing his religion just for the sake of it! It is vital to the story that he is a priest, and is heavily based off the song "Hellfire" from The Hunchback of Notredame. SO, yeah! Feel free to leave any suggestions/comments/concerns

He shifted slightly, his knees wailing in pain from the harsh marble beneath them and the time spent bent.

Ford knelt down a considerable distance from the altar, the tabernacle in all its glory reflecting the near hundreds of candles that surrounded it.

Ford called out, hands extended, "beata Maria, hear my prayer! I weep to you on this night, as a human, you must understand my temptation!" He could hear himself echo throughout the chapel, the gravelly desperation in his voice not going unnoticed.

"I am a holy man, my virtue I am justly proud, following your son's directions to the word!" Ford yelled, the angry bile felt in his throat. He clasps his hands together, ignoring the tender ache in the stitches and burns in the sides of his hands.

"Tell me, tell me then, Mother... This lust I have been burdened with, the false idolatry I am being consumed in." Ford closes his eyes, huffing out.

He had been approached in his most vulnerable state, when he was dreaming... He saw there a demon, one of enticing intelligence- offering knowledge of all of man, the very knowledge that scorned the garden. Ford knew he was a good man, widely renowned for his work. Only natural that he was haunted by these demons, it was inevitable for any follower of the faith. And yet...

The Triangle, who made himself known as Bill, he was different than others. It was like he knew Ford better than Ford knew himself, cheap blandishment sprinkled in every sentence. It was a visceral lust Ford felt, a lust for the unknown... To be powerful.

Ford lied prostrate, his hands still clapsed in prayer. He could feel his forehead's sweat touch the cool ground.

"This... This entity, known as Bill Cipher, he has approached me. His offers are wrong, I know, but I cannot find flaw within them! Surely, surely I am not to blame for... I am a holy man, a holy man, surely, it would be of benefit to be granted this knowledge! The parish, the town, they rely on me..."

His gaze flickers up, feeling the piercing gaze of Christ's statue above the altar. He dryly swallows, finding the nerve to continue his bargain.

"It only logical I use the knowledge, for the better of... Of the people. I am a worthy man, am I not? Your praises I have sung without doubt! I- I am ahead of others in wisdom, I can manipulate this demon for the better!"

Ford felt an electric shock go throughout his spine, a horrible wave of nausea in his mind as he tried to blink it away.

"I put my faith into you, Lord, and I... I, humbly, ask you to return the favor. I may be human, but a steel will I shall hold in the face of evil. This hill I shall siege, not die on!" His voice rings again, the candle lights cowering at the harshness. He swallows the fattening lump in his throat, a surge of confidence in himself as he speaks to his God.

"I shall conquer this demon, Lord, and in your name, I shall make you proud... The devil is strong, but my faith... My faith is stronger." Ford puts a strong hand on the ground, lifting him from his aching knees. He stands equal to the tabernacle, holding the body and blood of the Divine.

"Hear me, Lord, I will make you proud... And make my mark." Ford smiles, seeing his reflection in the shimmering gold of the container. "I know I was meant for more, I am truly blessed..." He looks up at the towering crucifix, his whole body wracking with each breath.

He reaches out a hand, placing it on the Son's foot. Ignoring the phantom pain in his missing fingers, he graces the symbolic statue with a determined kiss.

"Watch me, Lord, for I will not fail... This mockery of the blessed three, this Cipher will not win me over." Ford turned his back to the light, looking through the stained glass at the moonlight. His chest slowly erupts into laughter, lasting so long and feeling so powerful that it forces his body to cough, unable to stop the eager chuckles. Ford felt the shakiness but couldn't help but focusing on the blooming pride accompanying the laugh in his chest.

...

requests/asks are open : )

[jscameron]

you’re a tour photographer, meaning that you take professional pictures of performers. you’re currently waiting outside of the venue in nashville, where you would be seeing THE DRIVER ERA. you were ready to meet rocky and ross, the excitement buzzing through your body. you take a picture of the venue that opens up in 3 hours for their concert.

word count: 1.1k

please be kind! this is not proofread!

“hey! you must be y/n!”, a sweet voice shouts from behind you. your turn around and see that it’s no other than ross lynch, his brother, rocky, next to him!

“no way! you’re ross and rocky! how did you guys know my name?”, you ask way too excitedly.

“well, you’re going to be taking concert photos, right? we have a list of everyone that’s allowed to come in and help us set up or interview or anything else like that.”, ross says.

“oh. yeah! i’ll be taking your pictures. do you mind if i take some now, while we have some time?”, you ask eagerly.

“sure! we don’t have to warm up for another hour, so we can definitely do that! how about we go on top of the roof? i think the lighting would be great, but you’re the photographer, what you say goes.”, ross says with a wink.

“you have a wonderful idea. let me steal you boys away!”, you say.

.

.

.

.

.

“stay just like that! the light is hitting you boys at just the right angle.”, you say, peeking through the camera and hitting the button to take ross’ and rocky’s picture. little did the boys know, you were taking individual headshots as well, with every pose you set them up for.

“oh! these are so good! and you boys are so sweet!”, you say.

“really? well, let’s see ‘em!”, ross says, snatching your camera from you.

“ross! no!! they’re not edited or anything! give it back!”, you say, worried he’s going to see the individual pictures.

“oh no, y/n, i don’t think so.”, he teases holding the camera above both of your heads now. “rocky, take this and run!”, he says to his brother.

“bet.”, rocky says, a devious smile on his face.

“no! wait!”, you say, but it was too late. the boys are playing a trick with you and rocky is long out of reach now.

“well, looks like rocky might take a picture of you and me now. smile and pose.”, ross says while grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close to him. he dips you down and tells you, “focus on me. you’re beautiful.” you blush, but oblige. you hear your camera flick with each picture rocky takes of you and ross.

“okay, ross and rocky. please give me my camera back, i think it’s almost time for you guys to get ready to warm up.”, you say, trying to get out of ross’ grip, but he won’t let go.

“rocky is heading that way now, but i want to stay here with you, y/n.”, ross says to you, still holding onto you.

“awe, ross”, you say, looking into his eyes.

the chemistry between you is crazy. you can tell you both want the same thing each other wants. your faces draw closer together and just when you think he’s about to kiss you, he stops.

“okay, kid. time for me to go warm up. come with.”, he says with a smirk on his lips, while leading you off of the roof.

“ugh! ross!”, you say, not letting go of his hand.

.

.

.

.

.

“how’s everyone doing tonight?!”, rocky asks the crowd at their sold out show. you stand behind the barrier and start taking pictures of the fans and the brothers. the crowd is going wild as they start to play their song “a kiss”. you start taking pictures of the boys and you can’t help but notice how much ross is interacting with you, even though he’s on stage. and you can’t help but crack a smile and follow his lead.

ross grabs you up on the stage and sets you to the side, he stares at you for what feels like forever, then touches your hands that hold your camera. he wants his picture taken. you shoot one. then, he grabs the camera off of your neck and takes a selfie with you.

“you got your phone?”, he asks you, while still performing. you take your phone out of your pocket and he takes it from you and takes another selfie of the two of you together, then he takes some pictures of his brother and the crowd, interacting with everyone. before handing your phone back, he takes a picture of you, taking a picture of him with your camera. once you lower your camera, he takes another picture of you. “absolutely beautiful.”, he says. he gives you a kiss on your cheek before continuing to perform. you’re blushing and you can’t stop feeling the tingles of electricity resonating where he kissed you.

.

.

.

.

.

after the boys’ performance, ross tells rocky he’s taking you out. “oh, you don’t have to do that, ross.”, you say, bashfully.

“sure i do! i want to. i want to get to know you more. you’re not getting rid of me easily.”, he says to you. he grabs you by your hand and leads you out of the tour bus and out into the town. you find a nearby diner that doesn’t look too busy this late at night and go in.

“how many is it tonight, sir?”, the hostess asks as you and ross come in.

“just us two, ma’am.”, ross says.

“perfect. right this way.”, she says, gesturing to follow her.

the hostess sits you both down across from each other. as soon as she leaves though, ross, comes over to your side and blocks you in the booth.

“so…y/n? how’d you like the show tonight?”, ross asks you, eagerly.

“i loved it! and i loved getting to know you guys tonight. i can’t wait to go with you boys on the rest of your tour!”, you say.

“perfect. i’m so glad you feel that way. i don’t know if i could let you go so easily.”, he says, gently placing his hand on top of yours.

“awe, ross.”, you say, leaning into him for a kiss.

“y/n?”, he asks after kissing you a couple more times in the booth.

“ross?”, you say back.

“will you be my girlfriend? i know we just only met, but i can’t help but feel this way about you.”, he asks you, shyly.

“ross, shut up.”, you say, laughing at him and kissing him again, sealing the deal that yes, you will be his girlfriend.

it was going to be a long tour, but you’re happy to have ross by your side. ❤️‍🔥

[gothgleek]

"You , you love it how I move you

you love it how I touch you my one. When all is said and done, you'll believe god is a woman"

billy loomis x Reader fluff

(the song lyrics are from god is a woman Ariana grande)

Note: Hi! Sorry for the late response, it took a while to hear writers block. The god worship and the fluff is a little toned down than what you’re probably expecting but I think it came out short and sweet. At least, this is what I’d like from a slasher lol

Notes: Rated PG-13 for offscreen death, everything else is cute and sweet.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

You raised your head at the sound of knocking on your window to find Billy Loomis smiling at you from the other side of the glass.

“Hey,” Billy greeted as if it was totally normal to enter a home through the second story window.

“Hey,” You laughed and pulled him through. “What are you doing here?”

“There was a horror movie marathon and I started to think of you,” He started, walking around your bed room, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“That’s flattering,” You said with a smirk and your hands on your hips. Billy chuckled at your pose.

“It is flattering. It was a Japanese film. I can’t recall the title,” Billy stopped in front of a map with various pins marking places you wanted to visit. Billy had spent hours listening to you talk about all the places you wanted to see after graduation.

Unlike the rest of your classmates, Billy listened to you talk about the architecture and culture of these countries. As the two of you grew closer, you even taught him some dance steps from some of the countries you wanted to visit. Billy wasn’t super graceful but he liked the way you smiled at him when he made an effort. Billy even started to get excited about going with you. He rented foreign movies for your date nights, even if he couldn’t understand most of the dialogue. Since the video rental was pretty limited with foreign movies, the two of you would often rewatch them and make out during the boring scenes.

“Anyway, it was a Japanese film and I thought about all the places you wanted to go to after graduation. Senegal, Spain, Brazil, France, Egypt… Japan.” He turned to face you with a small smile.

“And you started to miss me?” You teased lightly.

He nodded, his hands shifting around his pockets. “I did. I thought about all the places you wanted to see and how much I wanted to see them with you.”

“Then I remembered how Mr. Bateman wouldn’t give you the A you needed for your parents to approve your summer abroad.” Your bright face faltered a little as you gave Billy a confused look. He drove all the way here to remind you of this?

“And as nice as it was to have you cry on my shoulder, I hated seeing you upset.” Billy walked to you and tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are too important to me to ever make you upset. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you are always smiling.”

Billy pulled out one of his hands holding a kitchen cloth. He held it out to you and you gently unwrapped it. You let out a gasp when you saw the blood soaked knife.

“You’ll get that A now baby,” Billy smiled at you and pulled out his other hand. Two plane tickets to Tokyo dated for the day after graduation. You covered your hands with your mouth as you gasped. “And we'll travel the world together.”

Your eyes were filled with tears of happiness. You didn’t think anyone would have ever done something like this. “Billy I don’t know what to say-“

“Don’t say anything babe,” Billy said with a relieved smile. “I promised I will do anything I can to make you happy. Mr. Bateman was just a sacrifice I made to make sure you are happy.”

You pulled him close so you could kiss him hard. You hoped he could feel every bit of love and warmth you could give him, grateful for him.

“It’s you and me forever baby, don’t you ever forget that.”