#skull icecream

[wix-0-nightshade]

Malevolent mention?

[cozydemon]

Sans Undertale 🍦✨

[swallowedabug]

Laura Jane Grace And The Mississippi Medicals : Give an Inch (2024)

Art by Steak Mtn. + zoetrope vinyl by Drew Tetz

[muckmagister]

weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull weak skull

i would cry but the friction of my tears rolling down my face would be enough to scoop up my skull like icecream

[liamthemarowak]

Art Trade with foxtown2002 on Deviantart

It's a fine day at the garden, and Liam is resting by the flowers, thinking of something that he could go somewhere special. "There could be a special place that I could go, Like a special themed garden." Liam said as he tries to think in his head. Just then, he can hear an ice cream truck, and it was racing to the ice cream factory to get more because the ice cream in the ice cream truck was sold out. Liam think to himself about that truck, and thinks about it. "Hmmm, the cream truck is racing to the factory, that's one Idea, but there is something else that's needs to be added." Liam said. Then, he looks at the mountains, with a white top on it. "A fast ice cream truck, plus the mountains with a white top, equals... sky high sundae! Yeah, what a great idea there, I need to see Jack and use my wind teleportation power so me and Jack can have some good ice cream and watch the race!" Liam said as he went back to his house to tell Jack about the idea. At his house, Liam told Jack about the idea. "Oh, you want us to go to the Sundae mountains? I heard about that one, it was a DLC course of the Mario kart 8 booster course! So use your teleportation powers so we can go there!" Jack said. Liam and Jack will be prepared to use the wind teleportation, but all of a sudden, it didn't work. "Huh? what's wrong with the wind teleportation with two of us? I need to check the computer and see my percentage of the wind teleportation." Liam said as he went to the computer room and checks the status of the group wind teleportation. Liam checked it, and it was 0%. "The power on the group wind teleportation was depleted, please recharge it by standing by the fan." The element computer said. "I'm very sorry Jack, We can't go the the sundae mountain because I need to recharge my group wind teleportation by standing by a powered fan, and we don't have one." Liam said. "Don't worry Liam, I still have my homemade ice cream with me, but your solo wind teleportation will still work right?" Jack said. "Well, I'll guess I will try." Liam said as he uses his solo wind teleportation, and it works. "Oh, his solo wind teleportation still works, Well, better have my homemade ice cream!" Jack said. Liam was teleported to the Sky high sundae, and this place smells will ice cream! "Now this a good place for a an ice cream lover!" Liam said. Then, another one has join the Sky high sundae treat. It was Alex, and he came here by helicopter to visit this place. "Hello there Liam, I also came here to this place as well because I want to treat myself to this place." Alex said. "Nice, Me and Jack decided to go there, but due to the limits, I have to go there myself. but anyways, let's get some ice cream and watch the race!" Liam said as Him and Alex went to the ice cream shop and got themselves an sundae. The sundae contains strawberries, a chocolate flake, strawberry sauce and a biscuit. "Mmmmm, this will taste so good!" Alex said. Just then, an announcement was heard. "Attention all ice cream fans, the Mario Kart race is about to begin, so sit on your seats and watch the action!" The announcer said. "Do you hear that? The Mario Kart race is about to begin!" Liam said as Liam and Alex went on their sets to watch the race. The race began, and everyone was cheering, Including Liam and Alex. "Wow, look at them go!" Alex said. The racers are zooming around the track and and having loads of action! On the final lap, things are getting exciting, there was raining sprinkles around the track and there was chocolate sauce that causes racers to slip. "Now this is more exciting!" Liam said as he eats his sundae. The race has finished, and everyone cheered for the first place winner. "Seems it's like a good race there!" Alex said. Just then, the fireworks came up, and they watched the fireworks. "That was fun, I will head back to by house and I will go to this place next time!" Liam said as he waves to Alex and uses his wind teleportation. Back home, Jack was reading a book, and he sees Liam coming back. "Hey there Liam, How was it?" Jack asked. "Well, It was so amazing there! Maybe Next time, if my group wind teleportation was fully charged, Me and you could go there!" Liam said. Liam decided grab a book and read it with Jack to relax.

Liam The Marowak belongs to Me

Alex the fox Belongs to foxtown2002 on Deviantart

Pokemon Belongs to Nintendo and Game Freak

[ruinedgrave]

[semakin]

Anton Semakin "Head №22", 2022  

art project using Midjourney

[starlight-drawings]

Christmas presents for my fan this year it was a lot of painting lol

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ one hundred paired prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ a pot of fresh coffee and split knuckles

²⁾ orange peels and a car battery

³⁾ sand dunes and leather boots

⁴⁾ a printer and a knife

⁵⁾ incense and handcuffs

⁶⁾ a crushed velvet sofa and a video camera

⁷⁾ stale cigarettes and cotton candy

⁸⁾ loose change and headlights

⁹⁾ grey hairs and a gold belt buckle

¹⁰⁾ burnt coffee and grass stains

¹¹⁾ cherry cola and blue jeans

¹²⁾ chipped green nail polish and an empty dinner table

¹³⁾ a stack of paperwork and metal music

¹⁴⁾ a patchwork quilt and sweet tea

¹⁵⁾ a hockey sweater and a two-seater sofa

¹⁶⁾ perfume oil and rolled up shirtsleeves

¹⁷⁾ fallen leaves and guilt

¹⁸⁾ radio channels and a birthday card

¹⁹⁾ ravens and meadowsweet

²⁰⁾ apologies and bitter red wine

²¹⁾ library books and pouring rain

²²⁾ a breathalyser and popcorn

²³⁾ princess plasters and iodine

²⁴⁾ a tote bag with one broken strap and a winding staircase

²⁵⁾ a parasol and a tumbler of straight whiskey

²⁶⁾ fresh honey and a cult

²⁷⁾ wisdom teeth and blue eyes

²⁸⁾ sour cherries and a stolen hoodie

²⁹⁾ the flu and a heatwave

³⁰⁾ a boonie hat and a sunset

³¹⁾ vanilla perfume and a kitchen counter

³²⁾ a buffalo skull and a leather armchair

³³⁾ a throw pillow and a doorway

³⁴⁾ pink fluffy handcuffs and an unexpected guest

³⁶⁾ a package and a divorce

³⁷⁾ a stripper pole and a hangover

³⁸⁾ familiar cologne and a black eye

³⁹⁾ a lit candle and a snowstorm

⁴⁰⁾ an unsealed letter and a fallen pine tree

⁴¹⁾ headlights and footprints

⁴²⁾ a blocked number and traffic lights

⁴³⁾ a racesuit and a countdown

⁴⁴⁾ a butcher’s apron and a phonecall

⁴⁵⁾ battered comic books and a broken window

⁴⁶⁾ cold floorboards and a roommate

⁴⁷⁾ smooth vermouth and gold rings

⁴⁸⁾ a lip piercing and a rough hand

⁴⁹⁾ someone’s spare room and an eclipse

⁵⁰⁾ a game of mahjong and bad jazz music

⁵¹⁾ a jigsaw puzzle and a mortuary

⁵²⁾ a broke-up sidewalk and a knitted scarf

⁵³⁾ a poundshop wig and broken glass

⁵⁴⁾ a bunk bed and a crush

⁵⁵⁾ a red ink tattoo and a dinner gone cold

⁵⁶⁾ a warm palm and a flannel shirt

⁵⁷⁾ fresh basil and a half-empty bottle of arrack

⁵⁸⁾ a nightclub bathroom and smeared eyeliner

⁵⁹⁾ a busted lip and strawberry icecream

⁶⁰⁾ a floral-patterned dress and a looming balcony

⁶¹⁾ peach pits and a pressed shirt collar

⁶²⁾ a white mercedes and cheap perfume

⁶³⁾ a fwb and a housekey

⁶⁴⁾ a blue sarong and a fingertip tracing over a scar

⁶⁵⁾ a sauna room and a terse exchange

⁶⁶⁾ fried plantains and a briefcase

⁶⁷⁾ dried lavender and a tiled bathtub

⁶⁸⁾ a hotel room and a bouquet of lilies

⁶⁹⁾ sweet mango lassi and a suitcase

⁷⁰⁾ orange streetlights and a nightmare

⁷¹⁾ a crucifix and a thigh tattoo

⁷²⁾ a palm tattoo and the thrum of a heartbeat

⁷³⁾ a champagne room and a police siren

⁷⁴⁾ blue nitrile gloves and a hickey

⁷⁵⁾ a double-wide trailer and shotgun shells

⁷⁶⁾ stitches and pyjama shorts

⁷⁷⁾ karaoke and a snowdrift

⁷⁸⁾ an older man and a twin bed

⁷⁹⁾ chinese takeout and a graveyard

⁸⁰⁾ wet clothes and ambulance sirens

⁸¹⁾ carbolic soap and a creaking staircase

⁸²⁾ an undercover assignment and wrung hands

⁸³⁾ the back seat of a limousine and bustling night streets

⁸⁴⁾ a steamed-up bathroom and cold floorboards

⁸⁵⁾ a grand prix and a breakup

⁸⁶⁾ a third place trophy and a picture frame

⁸⁷⁾ the last slice of birthday cake and crossed legs

⁸⁸⁾ squashed raspberries and heated cheeks

⁸⁹⁾ pink lipgloss and brass knuckles

⁹⁰⁾ a ghost mask and a late visit

⁹¹⁾ loose bullets and slashed tires

⁹²⁾ a tactical belt and patterned bedsheets

⁹³⁾ a goaltender’s stick and a lonely walk home

⁹⁴⁾ a dog bed and a migraine

⁹⁵⁾ lit billboards and a floor-length gown

⁹⁶⁾ a divebar negroni and a game of pool

⁹⁷⁾ olive trees at harvest time and divorce papers

⁹⁸⁾ a caviar bump and vanilla coke

⁹⁹⁾ a whale tail and pantsuit

¹⁰⁰⁾ legs thrown into a lap and calloused hands

[strawberryforks]

concussed // adrien agreste x reader

summary: falling in love with your best friend in and out of the suit goes a little like this…

warnings: head injury, akumas

word count: 1126

a/n: requests/asks are open & encouraged!

you’re not supposed to fall in love with you best friend—it’s a universal rule. sure, sometimes you hear about the success stories. childhood friends to lovers is a trope and a popular one. books are written, movies are made, and who doesn’t love them? the problem is: it’s fiction. it’s all just fiction. in reality—your reality at least—you fall in love with your best friend and you’re screwed. it becomes the world’s best kept secret because you’re not the only one crushing on your best friend, adrien agrest, model and son of the designer gabriel agreste and you’ll be damned if you ruin the friendship.

something you never expected was that your best friend felt the same. and because you didn’t expect it, you couldn’t accept it. anything remotely romantic adrien did, you rationalized.

his leg brushed up against yours? coincidence.

he brought you chocolates? he was your best friend, he knew you liked chocolate.

one night, he changed strategies. although it was unconsciously...

mid-akuma battle chat noir was injured. it was bad enough he couldn’t keep doing his job. he wasn’t helping ladybug, only endangering her further and he couldn’t bare it. with his heartbeat feeling like it was in his head; like a drum smashing against his skull loudly and painfully, he barely managed to perch (he would’ve said purrch had he not been so dizzy) on your windowsill. chat noir tapped on the window pane. it was late but you couldn’t sleep. dark, but you cradled your phone, watching for updates on the latest akuma attacks. when something knocked against your window you jumped up. you grabbed the baseball bat propped up against your closet door and hesitantly approached the window. when you opened it a body fell at your feet. you raised the bat above you head and then you saw a tail… “chat noir!?”

“hey… y/n. sorry for dropping in i think i used a few of my nine lives.”

“how do you know my—you know what, that doesn’t matter! are you okay? what happened?” you asked but before he could answer, you continued rambling. “well i saw the footage on the ladyblog but! just stay here, i’ll… i’ll go get the ice.”

the leather clad hero rolled over, gloved hand over his eyes as he groaned. “oh god, no. here,” you help him up onto your bed and gently push him back into the pile of pillows. “stay here. i’ll be right back.”

“sure thing purrincess,”

“i was hoping you were so concussed you’d forget the puns.” you say on your way out.

your mom asks you what’s going on, and you tug down your pant-leg, revealing a bruise on your knee from the day before yesterday when you fell up the stairs. “just grabbing some ice and then i’m heading to bed.”

“alright hun. sleep well.”

you go to leave and she stops you. “tomorrow you and adrien are meeting up for icecream and i’m assuming you’ll be coming back here to game for awhile. that’s fine, just remember to leave your door open.”

you smile, nod, and head back to your room. you’ve got a large ice pack that you pass to him and after opening your drawer, you pass him two ibuprofen. “i don’t know if those work for superheroes, but here’s hoping.”

“thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me, chat. you’re the hero here. you owe the citizens of paris nothing and we owe you everything. i won’t lie, i’m pretty confused about how you know my name and well… where i live but… i won’t push.”

“lb’s always saying how important our identities are but you’re my friend and—“

you press your hand over his lips, mind working at a million miles a minute. you shush the feline hero and move some of the blonde hair out of his eyes. his green eyes. “get some rest, i’m going to use the bathroom!”

you all but sprint to the washroom. hands braces on the counter you breathe deeply and splash water into your face. you weren’t ready for this kind of relevation—that adrien, your adrien, was chat noir. the chat noir. part of paris's hero duo.

its fine. it’s okay. it’s perfect, actually. you’re freaking out a bit but he’s still the same person. your panic ceases when you realize this is a good thing. him being in danger constantly is terrifying but him having a way to avoid his father that doesn’t involve you being his one and only saving grace lifts a weight off of your shoulders.

with your composure back, you go out there. thank every ethereal force there is, because he’s fast asleep.

you debate taking the floor but it’s adrien. it’s adrien, and you two have shared a bed before, is what you remind yourself when you crawl in next to him and hike the comforter up to your neck.

when you wake up your alone in your bed and your window is open just a crack.

that night, chat stops by again. he brings you “thank you” flowers and some cookies ladybug—who’s a strangely awesome baker—made, to share with you.

“adrien! hey! i missed you.” you didn’t miss him that much, you’d seen him yesterday. you just missed being able to know him, talk about any and everything, and see all of his face. not the mask wasn’t flattering, you best believe it was, just you loved being able to see all of him. to adrien, knowing you knew all of him too? the pieces of him that made him chat noir too. it would be everything. you know how much it’d mean to him and knew that keeping tbis secret must’ve been killing him. you were a big ladybug fan, but a bigger chat noir fan (bigger your-best-friend fan) and if ladybug was the one who was making him keep this secret? well, it’s not like you could do much but unsubribe from the ladyblog. and if adrien was the one wanting to keep his identity secret? you don’t know what you’d do—whatever reveal you go with will suddenly suck.

“thank you natalie,” you say when she opens the gate and lets adrien out without forcing his bodyguard to tag along.

you get your icecream and when you’re given a cone thats black with green icecream and a paw print and he receives an icecream that matches you perfectly. adrien’s hand falls to the back of his neck “well this is awkward…”

you grin, “is it really?”

“what do you mean?”

“well—you uh, hit your head pretty hard, that’s all. and uhm, said some stuff. basicallyiknowyou’rechatnoirandit’sokaybecauseiloveyou.”

“you love me?” he echoes.

“i do, and have for awhile. i love all of you.”

“i love you too. but that doesn’t mean i’ll go easy on you when we play ultimate mecha strike 3!”

“wouldn’t dream of it!”

[lesbianpepsi]

'Cause I'm a jealous, jealous, jealous girl

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary: A visit to the doctors was only supposed to bring good health, not jealousy.

Warnings: dislocated ankle, tripping, swearing, jealous tara...?, bad writing, not proof-read

Words: 6.634k (ik.)

A/N: i fucking suck at summary's. but on a happier note i've finished all my exams, yay. my enthusiasm can clearly be detected. my first shift at a new job is tomorrow and i am shitting dicks from nerves, it's at a icecream shop but that doesn't make me less nervous rvkjnoxnoa. anyway, hope you enjoy this!!<33

part II

“It cannot be topped. The Babadook is top tier and nothing will change my mind.” 

You rolled your eyes as you turned your head to look at Tara, raising your eyebrows slightly. “You’re such a snob when it comes to horror it’s unreal.” Tara gave you a fake hurt look at your comment, you could tell she’s faking it since the girl has a small smile on her pink lips.

“How am I a snob just because I enjoy horror movies that aren’t teens getting killed at a camp that has some cheesy name like ‘Camp Cover.’” 

“Don’t you dare disrespect Friday the Thirteenth or Sleepaway Camp like that!”

Throughout your and Tara’s walk around Central Park the topic of horror movies has been one the two of you debating on. You taking the side of defending slashers meanwhile Tara taking the side that elevated horror is much better. 

Did you expect your peaceful walk with your crush best friend would turn into a horror movie debate? No, but it didn’t surprise you either. In fact horror is what made you and Tara even become friends.

You had been at a party and after a while it had died down and you ended up with a group of people sitting in the living room putting on a horror movie. After a few arguments on what to put on everyone decided to simply put on the latest Halloween movie, Halloween Ends. 

You weren’t particularly enjoying the film much and ended up chatting with a girl named Anika while the movie played. At the halfway mark of the movie a poor drunken soul asked a question that ended up turning into a full on debate in the group. 

“Who would win in a fight, Micheal or Jason?”

Almost immediately after the person uttered those words people started voicing their opinions.

“Micheal obviously, he’s been in the game longer than Jason.” 

“Micheal. Literally nothing kills him meanwhile Jason has been killed a shit ton of times.” 

“Jason is a mommy’s boy who didn’t even show up till the second movie. Definitely Micheal.” 

You were alarmed with the amount of comments made slamming Jason, so naturally you went to defend him. Your strongest argument was the fact Jason was factually stronger than Micheal, something everyone had to accept. 

“Sure Micheal did crush someone's skull with his boot in the twenty eighteen Halloween, but in Jason Takes Manhattan Jason literally punched a guy's head off. Jason would destroy Micheal.” 

You knew you were on the right side since even horror nerd Mindy agreed with you before going on a much longer speech. 

Not long after Mindy had finished her speech most had either gotten bored and left or decided to head home anyway. but a small group of you still stayed to finish the movie, one of those people being Tara. 

“I bet Mindy’s glad somebody else agreed with her.” Was the first words Tara ever said to you. To which you replied with. “I’m just surprised how many people underestimate Jason.” 

And the rest is history.

You became closer with Tara and all of her friends and after a few months even snagged the ‘best friend’ title, but it only took you a few weeks for Tara to snag the ‘crush’ title for you, something you’d take to the grave. 

On this particular sunny day Tara has begged you to join her for a walk, in the beginning you declined since it’s boiling and would’ve much preferred to stay inside in your room reading. Unfortunately for you, you and Tara both know you can’t say no to her. 

That’s how you and Tara ended up walking around Central Park talking about random things until the topic of horror movies came up.

Tara rolled her eyes as she shook her head in amusement, staring up at you as the two of you walked. “Alright then, what’s your top three horror movies then?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow, her smile turning into a playful one.

“Easy. You’re Next, My Bloody Valentine and,” You pursed your lips as you tried to think of your third favourite names such as Bride of Chucky, Ready or Not, Stab, Evil Dead, Halloween, Friday the Thirteenth swirled in your mind until one particular movie landed in your mind. 

“Hush.” You finally added with a confident smile, taking a few extra steps in front of Tara as you turned your entire body to face her, walking backwards. “You’re Next has one of the best female leads who fights fucking back and even kills the douchebag brother with a blender. Iconic. My Bloody Valentine is easily one of the best horror movies that came out in the eighties, tied with Sleepaway Camp and The Thing. For the eighties the gore is insanely well done and its plot and acting is just spectacular.” 

You took a second to catch your breath before you began to talk about your final favourite horror movie. 

“Hush is one of the most underrated horror movies in history, don’t even try to change my opinion on that.” Tara lets out a small giggle that makes your heart skip a beat at the angelic sound. “Its plot is downright scary and the acting by Kate Siegel is truly out of this world for this role of Maddie. An intense movie that in my opinion was one of the best one of that year.” 

As you carried on talking the more engorged you got into the topic meaning you simply got even more excited like a puppy getting a treat. Your smile at its best as you walked with a slight bounce, your eyes focused on Tara’s dark chocolate brown ones. 

“Honourable mentions are definitely the classics such as Halloween, Stab, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the Thirteenth and Nightmare on Elm Street. Without a doubt each movie holds one of the most infamous horror villains ever made. Micheal Myers, Ghostface, Leatherface, Jason Voorhees and Freddy Kruger. Even if you don’t like horror you still would know those names.” 

Just as you finished your sentence you went to turn back around to actually look where you’re walking, you spun around quickly as you tried taking a step forward. Apparently your pain couldn’t handle the simple task which inevitably ended up with you falling to the ground, landing on your ankle funny. 

You groaned as you could feel the harsh pain in your left ankle already, looking down at your legs before you turned to look for Tara who is crouched next to you already, a worried look on her face.

“Are you alright?” She asked in a rushed tone as she looked you up and down, a small frown tugging at her lips. The small crease between her brows told you she’s worried, one hand behind your neck and the other on your side confirming that thought. 

You give a stiff nod as you push yourself up with your arms, biting at your bottom lip to not let out a strangled yell at the pain radiating from your ankle at the movement. “Peachy.” You mumbled through clenched teeth as you give her a non-convincing smile. 

The brunette gives you a ‘are you being serious’ look as she swiftly moves one of her hands to grab yours, the feeling of her hand in yours erupting butterflies to go off in your stomach.

Not the time to have a gay panic, you mentally yell at yourself.

“It’s just a scrape, Tar.” You reassured as you manoeuvred your right leg to try to stand up, Tara swiftly stood up herself as her grip on your hand only tightened. The second you moved your left foot the pain increased, you bit at your bottom lip roughly to stop yourself from screaming. 

Deciding to simply fight through the pain you placed your right foot flatly on the ground, ready to stand up. You look at Tara who looked down at you with an even more worried expression than before.

 “Help me up?” You asked which she did, she began pulling you up slowly until you had to place your left foot flat on the ground to stand up, deciding to bite the bullet your roughly moved your foot to place it flat. 

The second you felt your left foot make contact with the ground you stood up quickly, tears swelling up in your eyes at the immense pain radiating from your ankle.

“Y/n I don’t think it’s just a scrape.” The worried Tara announced as she took a step closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly.

You smiled softly at her as you shook your head ‘no’. “Alright then a bruise, which is still manageable.” Tara gave you a pointed look as she gazed into your eyes, her soft dark brown eyes making your knees feel weak. 

“I don’t believe you.” She states.

“I’m fine. I swear, T.” You replied as you squeezed her hand in reassurances, trying to ignore the horrible pain in your ankle. You didn’t want to worry the girl even further.

The smaller girl insists on a silent staring content as she challenges you, if you back down that means she’s right and you’re wrong, if she backs down that means she’ll drop it for now. Your gaze never breaks as your eyes bore into hers, an eyebrow raised challengingly. 

Tara shows no sign of backing down either with her own brows raised as she stares at you, her lips pulled into a straight tight line. The deadpan glare really reminding you of Sam.

The pain from the ankle radiated higher up the leg with much more fierce pain which forced you to hold back a whimper at the pain, at the feeling of pain you relent and back down from the contest, breaking eye contact first.

“Fine, you win.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest like a child losing a game. Tara’s grins smugly as she sticks out her tongue to get all the glory possibly at the small win. “I knew I’d win.” Tara says her tone dripping with smugness, oh the things you’d do to wipe that grin off her face.

Luckily you didn’t have to do anything since Tara’s eyes suddenly widened as if she just remembered why she was competing in the first place. “Shit your leg.” She mumbles mostly to herself as the worried look replaces the one of victory. 

The brunette glances around the park and notices a bench not too far away from you two. You watch as she mutely nodded her head to herself as she planned a plan in her mind, her head turning back towards you a few moments later. 

“I’m gonna carry you to the bench and then I’ll check your ankle.” Tara explained as she took a few short steps closer until she’s invading your personal space. You give the Carpenter girl an amused smile. “Okay then Doctor Carpenter how are you planning to carry me over when I’m literally taller than you.” 

“I could carry you if I wanted to.” She remarks as an offended look appears on her face, her own arms folding over her stomach. You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff, without much more explanation you wrapped an arm around Tara’s shoulder, pulling her in. 

Ignoring the sudden warmth you feel in your cheeks you raise your left foot off the ground, using Tara to lean on. “C’mon,” You mumble as you begin to hop forward with your right foot. Tara immediately complies and begins walking with you, her own arm tightly wrapped around your waist, her free hand raised to hold your hand which dangled off her shoulder, something that most definitely didn’t help the blush on your cheeks.

Damn your gayness. 

After a handful of grunts, a few stops and a thousand “Are you okay?” from Tara the two of you reached the bench, Tara making sure to lower you down slowly. 

Sitting down you could feel the throbbing pain in your ankle as if it had another heartbeat there. Clenching your jaw you look at Tara who is kneeling in front of you, one hand on your calf and the other near your left foot.

“I’m going to take off your shoe okay, I promise I’ll try my best not to hurt you.” Tara affirmed softly as her eyes gazed up into yours not trusting your voice you gave her a curt nod signalling her to go ahead. 

As she untied your shoe laces you began to loathe your past self for deciding to wear converses. Every small movement she did the pain only intensified making you flinch or let out a pained moan. 

“Sorry,” Tara apologised as she began to take off the shoe. The throbbing pain in your ankle only got worse, you raised your hand and bit at your knuckle harshly as Tara kept apologising as she took the shoe off. 

The second your foot was without a shoe you could feel a slight relief but the pain didn’t change much. “Jesus Christ.” Tara gasped as her delicate fingers gently wrapped around your calf. You let out a humourless chuckle as you looked down at Tara and your swollen ankle. Your ankle had already began to swollen as a nasty dark purple began tainting the skin around it, you grimaced at the sight of your fucked up ankle.

“Maybe it isn’t that bad?” 

_________

“-severely dislocated ankle.” 

So it was as bad as it looked.

You sighed as you glanced over at Tara who is standing next to you paying much more to what the nurse said than you. Her worried look hadn’t slipped away for a second ever since Sam dropped you two off at the hospital, in fact you’d say it’s probably even gotten worse.

The older Carpenter sister couldn’t come in with you two since she had a shift at the bar she worked at.

“You’ll be given crutches to help you keep weight off the ankle as well as an ankle brace that you’ll have to wear for a few weeks. Medication will also need to be taken three times a day with each meal.” The nurse listed off in the most montoned voice you’d ever hear, seriously, it competes with Arnold Schwarzenegger in the Terminator. 

You nod your head weakly as Tara nods her head curtly, an appreciative smile forming on her lips. “I’ll make sure she takes them, thank you.” 

The nurse mumbles something under her lips before turning to glare at you, her blue dull eyes void of any emotion. “The doctor will be here in a minute to give you some painkillers to ease the pain.” 

“Okay, thanks.” You replied with a small smile, the old nurse glare got even colder before she abruptly turned her back and walked away. You sigh dramatically as you lean your head even further on the thin hospital pillows, looking over at Tara who’s already right by your side. 

“I can’t believe you got so excited over horror movies you sprained your ankle, that is more nerdy than Mindy.” She teased in a playful tone as she slightly leaned on the side railings of the bed, her eyes focused on your face. You could tell she’s trying her best to try to find humour in the situation rather than turning into a worried mess.

You let out a laugh of disbelief at that smirk toying at your lips. “I could’ve cosplayed as Jason and broken my arm over getting so excited and that still wouldn’t be enough to beat Mindy.” You retort in the same playful tone as you pushed yourself further up on the bed, flinching at the pain radiating from your ankle at the movement.

“Once you’ve gotten your painkillers we can leave, we’ll just stop by my apartment so I can get a few things then go to yours.” Tara declared as her hand moved to lay on top of yours, her warm hand warming up your cold one. 

You tilted your head to the side like a confused puppy at her words. “What do you need from your apartment?” You asked, flipping your hand over so you could lace your fingers with Tara’s. 

Tara’s eyes averted from yours and flickered down to your linked hands, the tip of her ears turning red at the contact, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope at her reaction. The brunette stared at your hands for a few moments as if she had completely forgotten you asked her a question.

You smirked as you gave her hand a squeeze making her eyes snap back to yours straightaway with an embarrassed smile on her face as she let out a dry cough. “What?” She stuttered out.

“What do you need from your apartment?” You repeated for her sake, the smirk never leaving your lips. “To get some spare clothes, charger, headphones and my spare inhaler.” 

“I already have a spare inhaler at my apartment.” You say right after she mentioned the spare inhaler. Tara’s eyes softened even more at that, her nervous smile turning back into that sweet smile that made your heart beat increase. 

Something you became incredibly aware of as the monitor to your heart started becoming louder and more frequent. 

“Really?” She asks as her eyes flicker over to the monitor before coming back to you. You nodded your head. “Yeah just in case of an emergency or you’d forgotten yours at home.” You answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Before Tara could reply, heavy footsteps are heard walking towards the two of you, both of you snapped your head towards the noise and that’s where you see the second most gorgeous human being on earth. 

(Tara obviously being first)

The doctor had long black hair that reached a few inches below her shoulders, her eyes a dark brown colour that almost looked black. The woman looks around thirty years old, one or two barely noticeable wrinkles on her face. With or without she had your gay heart speeding at the sight of her. 

She strutted closer to the two of you with a warm smile on her lips with a clipboard in the clutches of her right hand. “Y/n L/n?” The doctor asked in a raspy voice that told you she’s most definitely smoked a handful of times in her life, the thought somehow made the woman even hotter to you.

“Yes.” You stuttered out, starstruck at the pure beauty of this woman. She flashed a grin as she started to prepare the IV for you. “I’m Doctor Edwards and I’m going to give you some painkillers to ease the pain, is that okay with you?” She confirmed which you could only dumbly nod at.

The older woman let out a low laugh at your reaction which made heat rise to your cheeks at the sound. Jesus who knew older women had such an effect on you? 

A tight grip on your hand made you let out a low whine as you turned to look to your side to see a not so happy looking Tara Carpenter. Her smile had completely vanished and her soft looking lips pulled into a tight line. 

“You okay?” You whispered to Tara bringing her glaring eyes away from the doctor and to look at you. She replied in a curt nod as her features slightly softened at the sight of you. 

Before you could reply you felt a cold hand graze across your elbow, firm fingers taking a tight yet somehow soft grip on it. You turned to look back at the Doctor Edwards who is now closer as she prepared to insert the needle attached to the IV full of fentanyl in you.

“This might feel a bit uncomfortable honey.” She told you as her eyes glanced towards yours, your heart monitor frantically picking up at the fact this practical milf just called you ‘honey’. The dark haired woman smiled reassuringly at you as she positioned the needle at the top of your forearm. “It’ll be over before you know it.” 

“Okay, thank you.” You croaked out as the grip in your and Tara’s interlocked hands got even tighter. This time you squeezed back as you felt the needle start to stab into your skin, you’d never been a fan of needles. 

“You’re doing so good for me honey.” Doctor Edwards encouraged in a honey sweet voice that would attract bees.

God is she trying to kill me, you thought to yourself. 

After a few seconds you could feel something flow into your body which made you grimace at the feeling before you eventually relaxed as the pain instantly started to calm down in your ankle. 

“All done.” You turned back to look at the doctor who took a step back moving to grab her clipboard and scribbled a few things down on the paper. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you are and then you’ll be good to go.” 

“Thank you so much.” You replied as you gave her a smile, the painkillers coursing through your veins soothing you. She looked at Tara and gave the grumpy looking girl a smile before she took off to deal with other patients. 

You sighed in relief.

“So unprofessional.” Tara mumbled next to you in a low voice. 

Your brows furrowed together as you turned to look at her, that annoyed look still on her face. “How was she unprofessional? She was lovely and gave me sweet drugs to ease the pain, what’s not to love about her?” You defend as you look at her. 

Tara scoffed as she dropped your grip and crossed her arms over her chest like an angry toddler being told ‘no’. “She was flirting with you. She’s the doctor and you’re the patient, that’s beyond unprofessional.” Tara argued back, dropping to sit down on the small one person blue chair next to your hospital bed. 

You could already begin to feel the effects of the painkillers, must’ve been a high dosage, you thought. You cocked your head to the side as a teasing smile complimented on your lips. “If she was then I might ask for her number before we leave.” 

“No!” Tara said a bit too loudly making you let out a giggle. Damn, how strong was the dosage? 

“Why not? She’s the first woman in months to actually flirt with me.” You retorted as Tara’s stare hardened as her eyes glazed over to the doctor a few beds down talking to another patient in a leg cast. 

Tara looked back over at you as she tried to think of a suitable reason why you should reject the apparent flirting doctor. You smirked as the silence filled up between Tara and you telling you that Tara didn’t have a solid reason for you to not ask the doctor out. 

Your eyes slowly averted to the older woman who had a soothing smile on her lips as she talked to her patient, you could tell she actually cared for the people rather than just taking the job for money. 

“I just don’t think you’d be a great match that’s all.” Tara’s voice piped up resulting in your eyes glancing back over to the sour looking girl. The strong painkillers already having an effect on you, boosting your confidence and lowering your care as a teasing smile emerges on your face.

“You didn’t even speak to her, how could you tell she isn’t good enough for me?” You pressed, wanting to get a bigger reaction from her. You’re no Emily Prentiss at reading people but even you suspect that Tara Carpenter seemed a little bit jealous. 

The thought egged you on to try to get the green eyed monster to erupt in hopes of the girl maybe actually doing something rather than sit there seething with jealousy. 

Tara shrugged her shoulders as she bit the inside of her cheek, a bad habit you’ve noticed she keeps doing when she’s either annoyed or stressed. She doesn’t give you a verbal answer as her eyes refuse to make contact with yours. 

“Alright then,” You begin as your eyes gaze into Tara’s side profile, she glaring at the innocent wall rather than looking at you. “If she isn’t a good match for me, who would be then?”

“Anyone else.” Tara replied swiftly as her eyes maintained on the wall. 

You nodded your head weakly to yourself, the teasing smirk still on your lips. “Anyone else?” You repeat her words as she hummed in agreement. “So do you think Quinn would be a good match for me then? Quinn has great humour, she’s a part of the friend group so you can trust her and she definitely knows how to please someone in bed.”  

Tara still refused to look at you as she spat out her answer. “Quinn is a heartbreaker and prefers to have flings rather than stay in a relationship.” 

“No Doctor Edwards and no Quinn, how about Sam then.” Tara’s head snapped to glare at you in such a fast movement it looked like she could get whiplash from it. She shook her head curtly. “No.” Is all she says in a low voice. 

You let out a laugh as mischievousness swirled in your eyes as they locked with Tara’s dark brown ones. You bit at your lower lip for a second before speaking. 

“Well who then? You?” 

The annoyed glare on Tara’s face dropped as a stunned one supplanted it. Her eyes widened as her once tightly pulled together lips now relaxed, her dark chocolate eyes melting as they didn’t tear away from yours. A scarlet red hue of a blush accompanied her cheeks the longer you gazed into each other's eyes.

A lazy smile complimented your lips as you raised your eyebrows at the girl, silently asking her ‘Well?’. Tara stayed quiet. She didn’t nod her head, she didn’t shake her head either. All she did was gaze at you and your lazy grin.

Her mouth opened but no words were uttered, she looked like she’s mimicking a fish. Tara shut her mouth back closed and stayed like that for a few moments before she opened her mouth again, more prepared to say something this time.

“Are the painkillers working, Y/n?” Doctor Edwards interrupted as she appeared from thin air, standing next to Tara whose glare instantly focused on the doctor. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at Tara’s pissed off look as you turned to look at the older woman. 

You smile loosely as you give an awkward thumbs up to her. “Superb, doc, now I understand why people like them so much.” She chuckled as she nodded her head stepping closer as she pulled the IV needle from your forearm, a small dot of blood appearing at where the needle once was. 

You stared in awe as she moved to grab a cotton ball from her trey of medicine on the other side of the bed, pressing the ball against the blood before she taped it there with medical tape that made sure it stayed there. 

She smiled kindly at you before she checked your vitals quickly, once done she took a few steps back to get a good view of you. “You’re good to go, Y/n. I’ll write you a prescription for your medicine and get you your crutches and then you can leave.” 

You sighed in relief as you nodded your head giving her a thankful smile. “Thank you, I’m pretty sure you saved my life.”

She shook her head as a raspy laugh escaped the older woman’s lips. “I think that’s a little bit over the top but either way it was my pleasure.” Before you could reply a cough is heard from next to you. 

You turn to look at Tara who is now standing up and much, much closer to you now. A fake sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face as she looks over at the doctor, her hand on your shoulder. 

“Thanks for all your help doc but we should really get back home and make some dinner.”  Tara says in an even more sweet voice that you just know is fake. Your eyes avert back to the doctor who has a smile on her lips as she looks between you and Tara. 

She hums as she takes a singular step back. “Don’t worry honey I know you two just want to get home and get into bed together and sleep after such a stressful day. I’ll be back shortly with the crutches and prescription.” She promises as she turns on her heels and exits the room to do what she just said. 

“Bitch.” Tara grumbled next to you as she glared at the woman walking away. Her fake smile vanished into thin air. You roll your eyes as you carefully push yourself to the edge of your bed, stiffly moving your legs off of the bed. 

“There’s no signal inside the hospital. Do you wanna go outside and call Sam? She’s probably finishing her shift around now since we’ve been here for hours.” You asked her, as you moved your left leg back and forth steadily, sighing at not feeling much pain anymore due to the painkillers. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in a second. Do not leave this bed.” Tara demands with a threatening point of her index finger that simply makes you giggle, raising your hands up with a goofy grin on your face. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Tara stares at you for a few moments before she hurriedly walks out of the room, taking her phone out of her pocket and already trying to call Sam. You didn’t look away at her retreating figure until she was fully out of your view, only then turning your head away. 

“She has to be jealous, there’s no other explanation for her behaviour.” You tell yourself as you observe the seat Tara was sitting in a few minutes ago. 

“Oh she’s practically the green eyed monster honey.” A voice says from behind you. 

You jumped as you snapped your head to look in the direction of the voice to see Doctor Edwards standing there holding crutches and a small slip of paper. You sighed dramatically as you dropped your head.

“How the fuck do you move around so quietly? You’re like a cat.” The woman chuckles as she walks in front of you presenting you the crutches. You smile weakly at her as you take them, quickly putting your arms through the holes and gripping the grey handle. 

Slowly, you push yourself up until you’re fully standing up, your left foot hovering off the ground as you bend your knee. “The older I get the quieter my steps become.” She replies stretching her arms to your sides ready to catch you in case you’d fall.

You smile bashfully at her as you steadied your stance. “Well you don’t look a day over twenty five.” You compliment her, your voice coming out much stronger and confident that you anticipated. 

These painkillers are really having a toll on me.

“I think the drugs are really starting to hit you now, sugar.” She says as if she heard your thoughts, her eyes glanced away from yours to behind you for a second before they smoothly returned to yours. 

The older woman leans closer until her mouth is not too far away from your ear, in a whisper she says. “Tell her the truth.” You quickly put the pieces together and guess what she’s talking about. “What if she doesn’t like me back?” You questioned worriedly in a whisper.

She lets out a low chuckle as she pulls away looking behind you once again but for longer this time. “I know the look of love as well as I know the look of jealousy, dear.” You turn to look at what the older woman is already glancing at; not surprisingly you see a proper pissed off looking Tara near the doorway. 

You smile happily at Tara as you retrieve the prescription from the doctor’s hand, gripping it in your non-dominant hand. Glancing back at the woman she steps aside gifting you a soft smile. You wordlessly nod at her before wobbling over to Tara, grunting at every hop you took with the crutches. 

Tara snaps out of glaring and briskly makes her way over to help you, that gorgeous smile not showing on her face. 

“Sam will be here any minute.” Tara confirmed as she took the slip of paper from your clutches to give you more of an advantage. You mutely nod your head at her words.

__________

By the time you and Tara left the hospital, having to take one too many stops since you were struggling with the uncomfortable clutches as you felt more and more tired with every passing moment, Sam is already there in her car. 

The car ride to the Carpenter’s apartment was filled with low music from the radio and no small talk being made. You sat in the back with your crutches while Tara and Sam were in the front. You took that time to check your socials and ramble to Mindy about your massive gay panic at the hospital. 

Before you know it you’ve stopped at the Carpenter’s household and now just arrived at your apartment complex. Flinging the car door open, you grunt as you lean out of the car putting on the crutches, Tara somehow appears in front of you and guides you to stand up with much less of a struggle. 

You give Sam a wave and a smile as you hop over the driver’s side window where Sam has rolled down the window. “Thanks for the lift, Sammy.” You mumble tiredly to which Sam rolled her eyes at. 

“Don’t call me that.” The older Carpenter sister grumbles in her usual grumpy tone. You grin lazily as you take a small step backwards. “You know you love it.” 

“I don’t. I hate it as much as I hate you.” Sam said as she shifted the gear stick as she started to drive off. “Love you too, Sammy!” You yell as she drives off, giggling like a child when Sam’s hand emerges from the window flipping you off. 

“Let’s get inside.” The tired Tara says from behind you, her hand pressed against your back gently. You turn to look at her letting out another weak chuckle. “Please.” 

Tara smiles softly at you as she begins walking by your side into the apartment complex. Taking the elevator, the two of you staying in silence the entire journey until you both arrive at your apartment, Tara unlocks the door with her spare key and walks in first flicking on the lights as she holds the door open for you. 

You smile appreciatively to Tara as you wobble over to your bedroom, desperate to get to your bed. Tara closes the front door before she follows you into your bedroom, dropping her blue backpack on the floor outside your bedroom before entering. 

“Oh sweet bed how I have missed you.” You murmured against the pillows your face dug deep inside of them, your forgotten crutches thrown on the floor beside your bed. You feel a dip in the bed at the side of your head, you roll over to lay on your back as you look at Tara sitting beside your head. 

“You can’t sleep in those, Y/n, you need to change out of your jeans.” She reminds you in a knowing tone causing you to let out a loud groan, covering your face with your hands. “But I just sat down.” You say in a muffled voice behind your hands. 

Tara laughs sweetly as you feel her weight move off of the bed, her footsteps telling you she’s headed towards your dresser. Peeking through the crack of your hands you see her pull out your favourite pyjamas. 

Is it completely childish? Yes. Do you care? Not at all. 

The brunette pulled out your deadpool pyjamas, the set being your all time favourite piece of sleep clothing. She throws it over at you before heading towards the door, leaning against it as she turns to look at you once again. 

“If you need help just yell my name.” She offers before silently leaving and closing your door quietly. You sighed as you sat up grabbing the clothes that landed on your lap. 

You took your time changing into the pyjamas. Taking off your shirt and bra and replacing them with the red oversized deadpool shirt took a few seconds at most. The real challenge being taking off the thick long grey boot on your leg foot before slowly shuffling out of your jeans and into the sweats. 

Once changed and the brace back on you move to lay back down on your bed, your eyes fighting the urge to shut with every passing second. Right as when you start to feel yourself drift off to sleep a knock is heard at your door. 

“Y/n? You good?” Tara’s muffled voice is heard through the door. 

You smile as you nod your head as if she can see you. “Yeah you can come in if you want.” Tara quickly takes up on that offer and re-enters your room with a small smile on her face as she walks over to you. 

She had also changed into her pyjamas which consisted of an old shirt she stole from you which practically devoured the girl’s figure. You couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her in your clothing. 

“How’re you feeling now?” Tara asks as she sits down near your head once again, you look up at the sitting girl with a smile. 

“You never answered my question.” You tell her, completely ignoring her question. The Carpenter sister faintly cocks her head to the side with confusion clear in her eyes. “If you’d be a good match for me.” You add as you blink slowly at her. 

Tara’s breath hitches. Her eyes averted from yours to look at the doorway. “Do you still feel high from the painkillers?” She questions back. 

You giggle as you nodded your head, raising your hand and hovering your index finger over your thumb. “Just a tiny bit.” Tara scoffed a laugh as she nodded her own head weakly, finally looking back into your eyes with hers. 

“Then you probably won’t remember this in the morning then.” She mumbles mostly to herself with a smile. Tara sighs as she leans down to give a soft kiss to your forehead, your ears burn at the feeling as butterflies erupt in your stomach at the feeling of Tara’s unbelievably soft lips. 

“If you remember that in the morning I’ll tell you.” She whispers against your temple before she pulls away, making you frown. Tara gets up from the bed and retreats back to the door making you even more confused.

As if reading your thoughts Tara leans against the doorway, the light from behind her shining around her figure. “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight and don’t even bother trying to make me sleep in your bed since you need the space with the brace.” 

You let out a huff at that, not agreeing with Tara’s words at all. You hear her chuckle as she pushes herself off the doorway. “Goodnight, Y/n.” She says. 

“I’ll remember in the morning.” You say confidently as you lay your head back down on the pillow, your eyes lingering on Tara still in the doorway. “I hope so.” Tara whispers before exiting the room and closing the door shut silently. 

“Me too.” 

_____________________________________

A/N: part 2 anyone?👀

[styllwaters]

What happens when a knight's horn breaks? Is there any medical treatment? can i eat icecream out of it? would it be rude?

A pike helmet's horn is composed of a keratin sheath surrounding a bony core connected to the skull. It's quite strong and it gets harder to snap the closer you get to the base. If the core isn't damaged, then the horn can grow back within 4-6 months - although to ensure it grows back in the right shape, a knight may choose to don an artificial sheath.

It doesn't happen often, but when it does it's rather demeaning for the unfortunate pike-spire or pike-fort.

It would probably rude to eat icecream out of it.

[grey-spark]

Who is Rumerie?

So whoever RUMERIE is. They seem to be important to Futa’s story. And so I made this very long post going into who it might be. 

So the main theory goes that RUMORIE is the green friend. D_TTTTT is the orange friend. And ice_gorilla_ice (the first victim) is the blue guy, which kinda fits with the ice motif. He’s seen laughing at RUMORIE and that’s why he sets out for revenge. Both characters are the only two extras to have faces. Which lends more credence to their importance.

The biggest piece of evidence we later see someone in the second trial song holding a spray can with the same watch. A can that has the same color as the pink haired guys’ shirt. 

But what if we got this all wrong?

What if Rumerie might not be the pink haired guy. What if the colors at the start have no meaning and the pink hair guy is ice_gorilla_ice. 

He’s the one playing the game on the arcade. 

He’s the one our eye is drawn to.

He’s the one in the ice blue shirt. 

So I could totally see him being ice_gorilla_ice.

But if so, why does Futa attack him? In the post, Ice gorilla photoshopped himself into an icecream freezer (implying he’s cool) and adds the text “If you're worried that you might be getting unreliable”. (implying he’s good at gaming.) But Futa see’s Ice Gorilla (the pink haired guy) at the arcade and sees he sucks at the game. So he begins his first callout. 

If it turns out that RUMERIE isnt Pink hair guy who is it?

Let’s get the basic symbolism out of the way. His name is a play on words for RUMORY.  As in “Why are you spreading rumory gossip?”  An his pfp is a skull on radioactive green implying that he’s toxic. Not a good influence.

We see him talking to Futa at the start of the MV, before all the drama starts. Implying they are close (or at least online friends).  

Therefore, RUMERIE has to meet two criteria:

Has to be somebody close to Futa

Who helped spearhead his callouts. 

And that’s were I’m stumped... If only we saw Futa interacting with someone on his missions, collaborating with him.

You know, someone he looks to impress.

Sarcasm aside. I don’t know for certain if the Spear Guy is RUMORIE. He’s the most likely candidate if it’s not Pink hair guy. Regardless, spear guy seems like someone Futa is pretty close with. 

All of this is to say:

If Trial 3 comes out, and REMERIE is revealed to be the Spear Guy. I wouldn’t be surprised at all. It’d look obvious in hindsight. But I’m still not convinced. His watch and green color coding at the start is still pretty suggestive. So I lean towards it being Pink Hair Guy over some faceless dude.

RUMERIE is likely Pink Hair Guy, but if its not, its Spear Guy. 

There’s also the possibility that Spear Guy is Pink Hair Guy. As in, Pink Hair is anonymous as REMERIE. Therefore Pink hair guy takes on a different appearance in the metaphorical online world. Meanwhile, everyone knows Futa is Pazuzu, so he appears as himself. But again, I’m doubtful. Spear Guy could just be a random guy online. I just putting this forward, so we won’t be blindsighted by an alternate possibility.  

That being said, nothing is confirmed as canon yet. And we may never know who RUMERIE is. However, if Futa’s Trail 3 song is about the nature of friendship, (which seems to be where his story is going, since he has to make friends with the other prisoners to survive) then RUMERIE may be making an appearance. Knowing Futa it’ll be a heavy rock song about “🔥BETRAYAL!!!!🔥” not friendship. But in truth it’ll be about his gay feelings.

[ofnightshadeandthornyroses]

Don't Hide

Paul × fem!reader

AN: reader has affinity for shiny things. Goblin child behavior. Reader also thinks in first and third person chaotic because I do.

AN pt.2: I'm doing the request but Tumblrs on more crack than usual and deleted my draft twice. Take this please as my peace offering.

On vacation from college you decided on Santa Carla. You were aware that you should probably be doing a summer job but your craft business does well on it's own and you really didn't feel like visiting your family. Having to physically see and hear their judgment and harsh comments that's already been omnipresent during your entire time at college.

Now in a cheap motel you open your suitcases and spare cash, fully intending to have fun tonight. You grab your ripped red jeans, mesh long sleeve top, and black tank, hurrying to get dressed and out.

Driving there didn't take long, probably due to the fact you might've broken a few laws. You were exited to finally go somewhere out of the scrutinizing eyes of your teachers or the judging ones of your dorm mate and parents. You find a place to park and wasted no time getting to the entrance.

You slow down, go up the steps, looking around with something probably akin to stars in you eyes. You were practically trembling with excitement at the sights surround you. You couldn't decide what you wanted to do first everything looked fun and it wasn't even all of it. You wanted to check out the ferris wheel, that patch stand, oh that stand has ice cream, oh there seems to be live music going on, and there's stand with pins over there and–!

Okay, slow down. You can do those all with time! You scold yourself, forcing yourself still.

What first? Well probably don't want to carry a bunch of things around all night so you'll come back to those. Your eyes fall back on the icecream stand. Bingo.

Walking away from the stand now happily with your cold, creamy cone in hand you pass the vendors with patches and pins with slight longing but no problem. Towards a section leading further into the board walk you pass another more vendors that you let your eyes scan over for your return. It wasn't a problem really, until your eyes caught sight of something shiny yet again zero in for probably the 30th time.

Again, no problem except this time you couldn't bring your eyes away. It was a necklace with an intricately cut bat with deep read eyes. The bat was mid flight and to its feet was connected a just as detailed blood moon. Touching it revealed that the moon also had little gems in it, explaining its entrancing glittering in the light.

I don't need it now. I'll get it later. I said I would. But that was for things unwearable, it'll be gone before you get back. It's SHINY. Before you even knew it you had payed for the necklace and it was around your neck.

You sigh walking further down the boardwalk. Curse your weakness for shiny things, but it just glints so nicely. Goblin like behavior is what your sister would call this. Your affinity for picking up random objects that stuck your fancy or collecting animal remains such as skulls, exoskeletons, and disembodied wings often earns you scorn from your parents, playful jabs from your sibling, and outright disgust most times from your dorm mate.

After you go on a few rides, your hair now tossed better than you could've done in the mirror, and played a few games, winning a couple small trinkets, (ring toss is fucking rigged) you find yourself at a carousel. Oh my damn Oh my damn Oh my damn fuck yeah.

Unfortunately it was in the middle of a ride at the very moment so with much sorrow you decided to head over to near by stand and get another frozen treat. By the time you got in line the ride was over and you could happily make your way up looking like a kid on a sugar high, which is most probably the case with the tempting stands throughout this wonderland promising cotton candy and other treats.

You picked a horse with blonde hair and blue decorations and latched on with your legs and hastily grabbing for the pole when it jerked to a start, still going at your icecream with one free hand. Leaning on the pole, you looked out at the crowd passing by along with the night sky and aloud the comforting motions of the horse to lull you into to a sense of ease.

Your ears caught the methodical sound of chains over the music accompanied by laughter and boots hitting the metal of the platform, causing you to perk up slightly from your spot. Twisting your head you see two boys come walking out from around the turn along with two others following right behind them. Practically hopping around the carousel they were definitely grabbing attention which their attire could do on it's own. Leather jackets, boots, chains, patches and mesh came your way as you settled back to your spot leaning on the pole.

You let your eyes drift towards them, enjoying the sound of chains and bouncing hair. They're eyes were drifting towards most girls they passed, locking eyes and leaving them staring after them. As they got closer one kept sticking out to you, kinda like when you see a specific item and you try to look at something else but your eyes just wander right back and you feel something tug. Kinda like your necklace, huh. A thought keeps flitting through your mind as you look on, pretty, sometimes accompanied with shiny.

The metal on his jacket and bracelets kept glinting in the lights of the ride as he bobbed through horses and his hair flew around his face looking like it could be either crunchy or fluffy. Hair products maybe? His friends came and went by and you continued looking at him while lazily working on your icecream. You kind of expected him to go right by like the others had but as a pleasant surprise turned to look at you and make that couple seconds of eye contact.

Meeting his gaze and cheeky grin, you gave him a lazy smile and a small wave, a small feeling filling you, before you turned to your icecream and him back towards the others. It was barely even a few seconds before you found your eyes drifting back in his direction just to find his gaze already on you.

Did you slightly panic? Yes. Ogling and making eye contact with someone is one thing. Looking back at them after said eye contact to find them looking like they're ogling you is a whole other. It took you a moment to realize he was making his way back and you had only a second to mentally prepare yourself.

In that second though all you could feel was a tug, something akin to when you would find an epic rock or a shiny bat necklace with moon. That second one is mostly more accurate. While being distracted by the new tug you felt you didn't realize he had made his way to you already.

"Hey there sugar." He said as he took the pole in his hand and swung around to your other side. "I know I couldn't have missed something as sweet as you around here," he leans in "unless you've been hiding from me." His teeth click around a lollipop in his mouth as he rearranges it and smiles that same grin as before. Given your state of being you kind of really hope you come off as sort of casual. "Well I'm not." You barely know what your doing. Is this the flirting my sister foretold? Am I doing it right?

All you know is that sometimes people think you are flirting when you're not and when you are people stear clear. But he seems to be anticipating something as his grin get bigger and the candy clicks against his teeth as he rearranges it again. His hair looks fluffy this close up but then again– hair products. Could be crunchy. No, stop.

"Not what, sugar?" You finish up your cone and say "From around here." Thank goodness your voice actually seems to be steady. Giving a cheeky grin yourself, you continue with "Also I don't hide." Lies. You're literally hiding from your parents right now. He moves the candy in his mouth again and your eyes follow.

Suddenly two thoughts popped into your head: hey we stopped and do it. Usually you're mentally beating your brain with a bat to prevent any intrusive thoughts that pop up publicly that could get you into trouble. Tonight though your brain seemed to be hyped up on the little adrenalin punch this interaction has been gifting you. As he goes to speak you grab the stick from his mouth, startling him. You hop off your horse and turn to him, "You ever wanna find me I'll be around here the next few days. Remember, I don't hide, so don't you go and start." You pop the candy in you mouth before hopping off. What the fuck am I doing.

You head out the gate with as fast as a pace as you can with out looking like you running away, feeling all kinds of giddy and anxious. Glancing backwater putting in some distance with the sight of what ever tragedy or miracle just happened (yet to be determined) you see him leaning against the rail with his friends talking. There's one thing that make your steps stutter before continuing though, he's already looking at you.

[highwehyrat]

Creamed whip

Nsfw

Todoroki Shoto x G.N reader

Chill Saturdays with your significant other were your thing. The both of you lazing on the bed scrolling through social media with the occasional chuckle from a meme.

While scrolling through tiktok you came across a barista's page. On this specific tiktok they happened to be making a drink topped with whipped cream. Satisfied with the outcome you liked the tiktok and scrolled. Three videos after your for-you page was now filled with whipped cream deserts. Unsurprisingly the craving for whipped cream crept it's way into your mind.

You swiftly got up and entered the kitchen quickly grabbing the newly bought can of whipped cream. You indulged in a short pump of the fluffy sweetness before settling yourself back onto your shared bed. It wasn't long after where you saw a high quality picture of your significant other right after his last mission.

He undoubtedly looked amazing, edible even, as if crafted by Aphrodite herself. A blazing heat found itself gathering between your legs, you shifted slightly from the sitting position you were in in a feeble attempt to cool down. In the process you so happened to catch a glimpse of Shoto's sweatpants. The groin area of his grey sweatpants to be exact.

"What are you doing?" He asks slightly short of breath as he gazes down at you slowly pulling down his sweatpants. "Calm down, I just wanna try something is all. Do you trust me?". He lets out a small nod giving you the consent to carry on with your shenanigans.

You free his flaccid dick and place it in one hand, the fingers of one free hand migrate steadily to his balls. You gently massage them before bringing two fingers to his perineum and deeply massaging the erogenous zone.

A soft moan is emanated from the icy lips of the Hero beneath you. His pale skin quickly flashes a rosy pink. He switches off his phone and places it to the side. "Babe," he moans carelessly. You chuckle softly, knowing he hasn't even experienced the worst of it yet.

You drag a flat tongue from the base of his balls all the way to the tip of his cock making sure to slightly hook your tongue over his frenulum.

Aa-aahah baby

Precum dribbles down his cherry red tip down to the rest of his throbbing shaft, giving his prominent veins a shimmery glow to them. You take the first third of him into you mouth and let it sit there while your hands worked on the rest of the two thirds. Soon enough you felt him twitch in your mouth, you immediately stopped your ministrations to his cock and with a sharp pop took him out of your mouth.

You sat back to admire your good work. With his cock now fully mounted your mission could finally reach its climax.

"Doll please don't tease me like that, please baby finish me off, promise to get you anything you want afterwards, Bab-ahhh nngggg ah mfff!!"

You immediately cut off his whines by piping ice cold whipped cream over him. You made sure to tail the end of the cream at the tip of his cock.

His eyes rolled into his skull at the sight of you licking the cream off of him. You let out lewd moans of satisfaction which vibrated over his sensitised penis. A particular suck at the base led to his release all over the remaining cream.

The interaction of warm cum over the cold cream resulted in the cream melting and dripping down his shaft and onto his trim pubes like icecream down the cone. Without giving him the opportunity to collect himself you immediately set to work and begin lapping up the creamy cum.

The loud and lewd slurps encouraged Shoto's moans to grow into vocal groans, grunts and the occasional high pitched cracked squeal. After all the cream had been cleaned up from him, you took him in your mouth and sucked on him while you gently bobbed your head up and down.

In the occasion that he'd finally get the strength to bring his irises to the front of his face he'd be met by your lust filled gaze that'd steal the little strength he'd managed mustered.

His second and last arrival of the day was accompanied by breathy screams of your names, and the convulsing of his toned legs. Warm ropes of his pleasure shot into your mouth and dripped down the corner of your lips. You swallowed the amount you managed and let the rest drip back onto his overstimulated dick.

[killersfool]

Irish Goodbye | RYAN MCMAHON

Naomi swirled around the contents of her cup, in an out-of-it corner of her mind. She couldn't concentrate on the croaky vocals thrumming from the two humongous speakers—karaoke—some Journey song, the name had slipped away, under some pile of dust lodged within her creaking skull. Pulp was climbing up the glass, a green gooey sediment had collected at the bottom on the cup where, on the glass, miniscule flowers had been painted. Maybe if she was more of an optimist, she'd be imagaining the cup was, in a way, similar to a field. The green liquid being the glass and the coloured shapes being the flowers blooming.

She was bored, as you can tell. Very, very bored.

Imagining herself upstairs, watching a few episodes of Father Ted, she smiled contently. She ate a few crips from the glass bowl left on the bar. One was cheese and onion, the next prawn cocktail and the final was a quaver. Her favourite. It melted upon her tongue and she rolled it around her mouth to devour any straw flavour.

"This party's far from grand, isn't it?" A distant voice alerted her senses. She turned like a barn owl, her head almost making a compleye 180 until she met black, monochromatic eyes. He was one of the first boys she'd encountered in that grimy pub who's clothes were not black-and-white, devoid of colour, like the life had been sucked out of them. They were all virtually just walking mummies or corpses or a mixture of both. The second thing she noticed was his accent, Irish, which rose and fell as if he was a poet trying to prove a point.

"You can say that again." She spun her bar seat around to get a proper look at him.

"I was just about to head out and get an icecream. I'd been craving it—might be because everything in this place tastes the same." She watched how his hands moved along as he spoke. She didn't know whether to focus on his eyes, or his hands, or his hair which was a mess. He awkwardly swiped a stray hair from his pale forehead. His fingers lingered there as he breathed in rapidly. "I thought you might want to come along. Going to get icecream on your own feels pretty pointless. I don't think Sarah will care anyhow. You're Naomi? The journalist?"

Naomi had never met such an odd man in her twenty-five years of living. He wasn't odd in the sense that you'd want to run away from him or hold your keys like a knife in case he tried anything. It was more of a—why would some random bloke want to leave a pub, party, carnage for... icecream? He seemed like the type to hang out with party animals. Sarah had told the group that he was a drummer for some band. They'd been friends since they were very young. He was always bringing excitement to the most boring festivities. Gradually, it was becoming a necessity to invite him.

Naomi blinked twice, gulped about half of the glass of her green drink then slid the glass across the counter. It halted just before reaching the edge. She decided that she was going to take his offer. Anything to get away from the overpowering aroma of sweat that was burning the insides of her nose. Anything to get away from Sarah's shrieks filling the air everytime a karaoke song came on that she recognised. Naomi should've invested in some earbuds to block out the sound.

"Are you coming then?" The guy tried again, this time with a questioning tilt of the head. He beared his teeth, loosened his tie, ruffled his hair. "I'm Ryan by the way. I don't think we've ever been properly introduced."

Naomi shook the dark-haired boy's hand with a nervous, barely noticeable smile. "Nice to meet you and yeah, sure. Icecream sounds great."

She removed her jacket from the bar stool, placed her arms through the holes, ate another handful of crips before tucking in the stool and following Ryan out of the pub. She felt like she was breaking the law by not telling Sarah that she was leaving. This was unusual. They were both clinging to the shadows, glued to the dim half of the pub where the lights weren't really working.

"Are we Irish goodbying this?" Naomi whispered as they passed the gambling machines and pool tables. Her stomach was in knots, adrenaline pumping through her veins, heart beating at a double tempo.

Ryan stopped in his tracks before he pushed open the backdoor. Two words 'fire exit' in green were painted upon it. "Irish goodbye? Is that a saying? Or are you making fun of my accent?"

"No, no. It's a saying. I like your accent. It's like leaving an event without telling anyone." Naomi clarified. She had heard her friend using the phrase before. She'd never encountered a way to describe such a specific thing.

"Let's Irish goodbye this shit."

The pair crashed through the back door. A tidal wave of wind prickled across Naomi's skin. Goosebumps appeared upon her bare arms, moonlight poured onto the rain-covered pavement, scent of cigarette smoke hung in the air. The sky was a darkened pink as the sun glided on the horizon.

Naomi's heels splashed water everywhere as she stepped down the stairs leading to the alleyway. Her hair was all in her face due to the constant flow of wind dancing across her frame. Somehow Ryan's hair was pretty much intact (although it had been very messy beforehand so Naomi couldn't really tell how much it had changed). The clothes he was wearing—a leather jacket, Bowie shirt, jeans—meant that there was not a single inch of skin for the wind to knife and torture. Naomi missed the warmth of the pub.

"I like your accent too." Ryan had let her words sink in. He'd brainstormed them out in his mind to find the deeper or hidden meaning. He was like that. Always searching for the truth between sentences, through the way they spoke—it was weird. Maybe it was because he liked her. He'd seen her at countless of these parties and festivities. She was funny. Loud. Today he found a chance to actually speak to her, after many failed attempts prior after becoming too fearful or self-conscious. A blend of the two was not good on his brain.

"Thank you," Naomi murmured in response.

"It's just across the road." Ryan pointed to a flashing blue sign with the words 'Sally's Sundaes'. He led the way for Naomi, jumping in puddles every few steps like he was Peppa Pig.

"Do you do this often then?" Naomi was finding it hard to catch up with Ryan's energy. He must've been drinking a lot, or eating a lot of sweets because his pace was inhuman.

"What? Escape Sarah's party to get icecream?"

"Yeah."

"Sometimes." He paused as they stopped at the road. He looked both ways before crossing with Naomi beside him. The street was narrow, packed with many cars. The icecream shop cast a blue, flourescent hue onto the pavement. There was no one inside the shop except for an elderly woman in an azure uniform; her hat with little ocean waves painted on it. She was just about to flip around the 'open' sign when she spotted Ryan through the windows. They stepped inside, hearing a faint bell clash above the entrance. The worker approached the pair, her badge with the name 'Sally' glistened. She grinned from ear to ear at the sight of them. At this hour, business was at an all time low. Ryan was a regular though.

This time, however, Sally noticed the girl that was with him. A pretty girl for that matter. Sally was already questioning what was going on between them just by the way Ryan was looking up at her—all nervous, fingers twiddling like he was drumming a beat against his thigh. Seeing Ryan nervous was a rarity-this girl must have some superpower.

"Hey Ryan! Who's this with you?" Sally's cheerful demeanour eased any tension in the air.

"I'm Naomi," she introduced herself.

There was an array of icecream flavours in the fridge. From bubblegum to lemon sorbet to tiramisu. Naomi's mouth watered all the more with every movement of her eyes. They offered an Icecream Sundae deal with two scoops, a topping and sauce of your choice.

"It's like your song," Naomi laughed as she glanced through the options. She hummed the melody under her breath.

"Very true," Ryan said with a smile.

Ryan and Naomi sat down at one of the window tables after choosing their Sundaes. Naomi had never tasted such a flavoursome icecream in her life. Ryan allowed her to try some of his—vanilla and pistachio—which she had told him was rather boring. He had pouted and scoffed when she chose mango sorbet and chocolate chip. He believed that they just didn't go together at all. He was proved wrong when he tried some.

"Thanks for bringing me here," Naomi said after another mouthful of her sorbet. Outside, the sky was dark and the moon was high. She felt knackered even after doing pretty much absolutely nothing. Most of the day, she'd just been sitting down but just seeing the stars floating beautifully made her eyelids droop.

"It's no problem. You didn't seem to be enjoying the party." Ryan licked off the final residue of icecream from his tiny transparent spoon. He thought back to Naomi sitting alone, watching everything unfold just metres away from her. He'd been watching her from one of the sofas, wondering what was going on through her mind as she stared at Sarah. Any of her thoughts had surely been negative. She had watched the group of friends with distaste.

"I just wasn't feeling it today," Naomi admitted.

"Sarah's parties really drain the life out of you."

"Honestly. I have no clue why I even go to these things anymore. I guess I've just known her for so long, I'd feel bad if I skipped it." Naomi remembered the one time she'd forgotten about a party. Sarah had bombarded her with countless messages asking for her whereabouts. Naomi knew that Sarah just wanted to be her friend. She was a nice person. Not the greatest karaoke singer though.

"I get that. I've been mates with her for donkey's years. I only come along when I'm in England—which isn't too often. But, she really is intense. Like very, very, very intense. I'm a bit overwhelmed each time that I see her."

Naomi nodded with each word he said. "How's touring going by the way? I've heard a lot about your band." She was reminded of the time that Sarah invited 'Inhaler' to play at her birthday. Naomi thought they were good. Really, really good. Each of her Spotify playlists had at least one of their songs in them. She'd been especially impressed by Ryan's drumming. Seeing someone play their instrument always fascinated her. It just looked so natural for him to be holding drumsticks and banging cymbals.

"Tiring. Nerveracking. I just love that feeling when you get off stage, the adrenaline rush. I can't explain it. It just feels amazing." Ryan's wrist rested against his cheek as he watched the cars passing like blurs through the window. Naomi traced her gaze over Ryan's features; curved nose, wavy hair that was tousled across his forehead due to the wind, sharp jaw, pretty smile. She understood why Sarah invited him to every party. There was just some way about him, a certain confidence always emanated from him and he could bring life to even the most quiet rooms. Even in this calm state, there was comfort in the simple commodity of his presence.

Ryan placed his spoon back into the cardboard cup before shifting to look at Naomi. It was true, he did feel nervous around her. He could barely attempt to formulate a word as he watched the gentle cadence of her chest raising then falling with every breath. It was something so normal, so straightforward but it was all he could focus on. Her very presence was intimidating. He tried to plan out what to say next, let some words come together within his mind but he was sure that whatever he'd say, he'd make a total fool of himself.

"Do you want to watch a film or something?" Naomi piped up. She nudged the icecream cup along the table gently. She couldn't look him in the eye. He was staring at her with raised eyebrows and a sly smirk.

"Where?" He watched as her fingers tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. Her hooped earrings shuffled around as she moved.

She nervously looked forward to evade his eyes. "Mine."

The implications of that word rattled his mind. His boots clicked against hers under the table as a short, uncomfortable silence rippled between them. "Yeah, okay," he said, faintly, his accent hiding behind his words. "Sounds good." Wanting to act cool and actually coming across as cool was a very difficult thing. Naomi thought he was pretty cool.

They scuttled out of the shop after thanking Sally for their sundaes. Ryan offered to pay for Naomi as it was his idea to bring her there.

The streets were empty aside from the ocassional car that passed every few minutes. Streetlamps shone, making Ryan's skin glow with warmth and aliveness. Step after step, street after street. Her apartment appeared and Naomi opened the door, after struggling to find her key and letting out an irritable sigh. Ryan watched her with delight, snorting at how difficult she was finding this. Naomi resisted the urge to lock him outside and watch him shiver in the cold. Who knows how far his hotel was from here or whether the other boys in the band would even bother to pick him up. They were probably all asleep for all she knew.

Climbing up the stairs felt like climbing Mount Everest. She didn't know why she'd chosen them over the lift. Although the lift did scare the living daylights out of here. It was a square box that had malfunctioned too many times to count on her fingers. She'd been called by her neighbours after they got stuck inside or it started making some weird noises. If she ever had the chance to make a horror film, she'd film the entire thing in that creepy lift. She wouldn't even need a monster or a villian to take its place.

"Which one's yours?" Ryan was already on the third floor. He paced up and down the hallway, waiting for her response.

"Thirty-two. Third one on the right." Naomi reached the top of the stairs. She was panting. Her fingers clung onto the banister before she hoisted herself up to the door of her room. Ryan was leaning beside the dark oak, his shoulder squeezed against the white paint. He was making it hard for her to open the door again. Her hands were shaking as she turned the key. He was having this weird effect over her.

Ryan shrugged his Doc Martens off of his feet and dunked them to the side. Naomi offered to hang up his jacket and he passed it to her, revealing bracelets around wrists and strong drummer's arms with tattoos scattered along them. She glanced over them discreetly whilst putting his jacket on her coathanger. "You like Bowie?" She was first drawn to the tattoo of David Bowie's face that had caught her eye.

"Who doesn't?" He laughed to himself. He turned his arm forward to present the tattoo to her. She traced her fingers over the inked lines, his face warmed up at the subtle touch.

"I've got some of his records," she said as she pulled her hand away. His lips fell down at the sudden lack of touch.

He followed her along through the apartment, which perfectly encapsulated her. Plants were dotted around with shiny, perfect leaves. They were well looked-after. Posters of all kinds of films and musicians were pinned onto the walls. Bags of Quavers were on top of her kitchen table. She turned the kettle on as Ryan explored her apartment like he was discovering another country. He regarded all the intricacies, the typewriter in the living room, the disordered folders of her articles on the coffee table, colourful cushions on the sofa. The whole place smelt like flowers and freshly cut grass, when the trimmings float through the air and you can't help but breathe it all in. It was so homely compared to the hotel room he'd been trapped in with the band. It was nice to be somewhere different. Especially with good company.

He found her records stacked up in the living room and was also met with a pleasant surprise of the DVD box set of Father Ted. He had the exact same one in the tour bus. It was one of his favourite shows. He grinned as he flicked through her records; from Blur to Bowie to Taylor Swift—she had quite the collection. He picked out 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust', carefully pulled out the vinyl and placed it on the record player. The stylus glided downwards and the gentle drums of 'Five Years' emerged from the speakers

"Good choice." Naomi mused as she brought two cups of tea into the room. She'd taken off her blazer and was wearing fluffy socks. "I don't know how you like your tea so I've got some sugar and milk here." She placed his cup beside her sugar container and jar of milk.

"Thank you," he murmured as she settled down on the sofa, dipping her chocolate hobnob in the boiling drink. She hadn't had a guy in her apartment for ages and the sudden invasion of privacy was strange. The living room was a mess. Discarded headphones and magazines were amongst the clutter just left on the floor. Her bedroom was at least ten times worse. Journalism was a generally messy job. She had highlighters, folders, post-it notes, all kinds of random stuff thrown everywhere.

Ryan hadn't acknowledged any of clutter. He was too focused on trying to learn more about her through her music taste. He then picked up the Father Ted box set and held it up, looking at her with a small smile, "Didn't think you'd like this."

"Oh, I love it. I'm not usually a sitcom person but it changed me."

"Should we watch some?" He was already turning on her CD player and placing the first season disc in. She kicked up her feet onto the coffee table, resting her head on her armrest.

She didn't even need to respond because he'd already put on the first episode. He sat beside her, pouring some milk into his tea. "I've watched this show so many times. It's an addiction," Naomi muttered. "I sort of find Father Ted fit." She took in his expression then laughed, "I have no shame."

Ryan gulped a long drink of his tea, eyebrows furrowing with scepticism. "You're kidding."

"He's leng."

"I'm a bit scared of you."

"Why does no one agree me with me?" She pressed her face into the armrest. Ryan was laughing along with every joke whilst trying to figure out what Naomi saw in Father Ted. "I dunno if it's his face, the accent or the amount of times I've watched this show. It's probably altered my brain chemistry."

"I see it." Ryan tried to hold a straight face as he said those three words but he couldn't help the chuckle that left him.

"Bugger off. I shouldn't have told you that. Fuck's sake. You're going to tell Sarah and that lot, aren't you?" Naomi could already imagine him hosting a weird meeting, or making a groupchat with everyone. She'd be ruined. The thought of them making a joke everytime she entered a room sounded far from ideal. Having to spend hours with them was bad enough but this, this was dangerous. Ryan could possibly be the worst blabber on Earth.

"I'm not like that. My lips are sealed." He motioned his fingers across his mouth like he was tying a zip, circled them around at the corner then threw the made up key down into her plantpot. Naomi had been lost in a trance—gaze focused on his lips—they were thin, smooth and gently pressed together. He followed her shifting eyes until she snapped them away, back to the TV screen.

Dougal was now onscreen—Naomi wasn't particularly focused on any words leaving the priest's lips, or the laughing track almost breaking the sound barrier. She was now sat on the sofa properly: her legs crossed and her head on a cusion. Ryan was sat similarly, on the opposite end of the sofa, but instead with his legs hanging off the edge of the seat. He looked so calm with his cup of tea which had been specially selected by Naomi. It was a present her Dad bought her when she got her first job. The design was simple—sunglasses with a sparkle in the corner. She thought it was insanely cheesy when she first saw it but maybe it was given to her for a reason. All the months of dust collecting upon it, the times she'd left it in the back corner of cupboard to sit alone. Maybe Ryan was supposed to be the one to drink out of it. The holder perfectly complimented his slender, ringed fingers.

Overthinking. She was overthinking everything.

It was late, she was tired. This was the hour when her mind would reel like a projector in an empty cinema. Just her in the back row, watching all her thoughts roll across the screen.

"You alright there, Nao?" Ryan clicked his fingers a couple of times, waved a hand palm before her face.

Naomi pushed herself off of the sofa and turned the key on the window. Fresh air poured in. She sighed. "Sorry. It's just a bit stuffy in here."

"I can go if you'd like. It's getting late. I don't want to keep you up." Ryan stood up, fixing the cushion back into its original place.

"No, Ryan. You're the best company I've had in a long while. You're really cool and nice and a great drummer. I'm still buzzing after watching you play."

Naomi plopped down on the stool beside her keyboard, her head falling into her hands. She scraped her hands through her hair, raking through each strand. She jolted forwards when a light pressure was applied to her back. Ryan was standing beside her and said, "You're a lot fucking cooler than me. Your articles are mindblowing—they're funny, sad at times, just a general rollercoaster of emotion." He gently traipsed the length of her shoulders with his fingers.

"You read my articles?"Naomi now looked up at him, her eyes a little teary and lipstick smudged. "I'd write one about you." There was something so overwhelming about all of this. She then looked at the wall—a little flustered. "-I mean the band, of 'Inhaler', of all of you." Father Ted was still playing the background. Too many Irish accents for Naomi to cope. Although Ryan's was most definitely her favourite, no doubt about it. If he read her a bedtime story or even just the bloody shopping list, she'd be asleep in a matter of seconds.

His gentle touches were driving the oxygen out of her lungs. "That would be an honour." Ryan tucked her hair behind her ears, carefully wiped away the red smear of lipstick with his thumb. He was just about to pull his hand away when she grabbed it, held it. His fingers were a little clammy but so were hers—the heat of the room was immeasurable—the light draft of wind was barely making a difference. But now, Naomi felt more at peace. Especially as she traced along his knuckles, his fingernails, his cuticles. It was weirdly intimate. Ryan thought he might be glowing pink. It was like he was in a vacuum, completely detached from his body, unable to move or speak. She made him mental.

"Did you know that the guy who played father Ted—who sadly passed away—was actually from Dublin like you."

"Interesting."

"Right? Well, anyway, uh. He sounds a lot like you, almost the same. Now that I've been talking to you for a while—I can hear the similarities." She stammered on, still transfixed by his hands, now outlining the veins along his forearms and each tattoo that she passed. His other hand was still on her shoulder, drumming his digits to the beat he'd been playing when they went to get icecream.

"Is that a good thing...?" He paused, ran his tongue over his front teeth as he stopped in thought. "Didn't you say that one the reason you might find him fit is because of his accent?"He sucked his lip under his teeth as he hesitantly spoke. The room felt a lot smaller as if the walls were crushing in. He was challenging her, proving that he payed attention to every word that she said.

"I didn't — wait fuck yeah I did, didn't I? Well, I've dug my own grave." She shook her head, trying not to lose herself in Ryan's eyes. They were pools of comfort. "Yeah, I find your accent pretty hot. Is that bad?"

His entire vocabulary had vanished by the boldness of her statement, the smirking playing at her lips. "I don't know what to say," he babbled, accent somehow thicker with every word. His pushed his knuckles into his cheek, feeling how warm it was.

"Then don't say anything," she said, barely a whisper.

A newfound confidence surged within Naomi. Just his smile sent her into some haze, she could get drunk on it. He was kneeling before her. His jean-covered knees were resting on the carpet and he was anxiously scuttling. The air was getting thick was silence — silence on their part — Father Ted was still speaking. Ryan reached for the remote and turned the TV off, leaving David Bowie's 'starman' gently playing in the background, serenading them. If Naomi told Ryan to not talk, he would listen.

Her hands rested on either of his cheeks. They were rather pale in contrast to her skin, and cool compared to the room. He neared her. His breath swam across her lips, smelt of tea and a hint of vanilla — from the icecream. He whispered, "God, Naomi," no longer falling victim to the simplicity of silence, of wordlessness. The way their foreheads were together, like two jigsaw halves blending into one, it was too perfect. The way Ryan spoke her name — like it was his lifeline. He said it twice more and her heart strained, her eyes closed and his eyelashes scrubbed across her brows. His fluffy hair cascaded over her temple and she let her right hand feel though the curls.

David Bowie's voice, the echoes of cars passing in the distance, the rustle of clothes. Each sound added to the intimacy — the quietude. They stayed there for a while, just relishing in the moment. They both acknowledged the importance of this. They both needed it. Time away from any carnage, from anxious whispers, from parties, from life —they had found safety in one another. They were both hoping — a lingering thought bloomed between them, in the slight gap left between their touch, just like those flowers on Naomi's glass cup — maybe this could blossom into something good.