the butcher of mayfair ([info]anniesj) wrote,
@ 2004-04-24 07:37:00
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Current mood: dorky

MoodRings -- 132 Celebrations of LOTRips



Image by [info]circe_tigana

132 LiveJournal moods, 132 drabbles (and other creations) to go along with them, all from [info]anniesj and [info]circe_tigana :)

PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE COMMENTS IN THIS THREAD. This thread is only for the drabbles themselves and we'd like to preserve that, so any comments that are left in this post will be deleted. However, if you'd like to leave us some feedback, please go over to The Feedback Thread and let us know what you thought -- we'd LOVE to hear from you all. :)

Here's the list of moods that we used -- all bold ones were written by [info]anniesj, and all the ones not in bold were done by [info]circe_tigana. They are posted in random order, but here, they're posted in alphabetical order, just so you can see the monstrous task we undertook. ;)



132 LiveJournal Moods

Accomplished
Aggravated
Amused
Angry
Annoyed
Anxious
Apathetic
Artistic
Awake
Bitchy
Blah
Blank
Bored
Bouncy
Busy
Calm
Cheerful
Chipper
Cold
Complacent
Confused
Contemplative
Content
Cranky
Crappy
Crazy
Creative
Crushed
Curious
Cynical
Depressed
Determined
Devious
Dirty
Disappointed
Discontent
Distressed
Ditzy
Dorky
Drained
Drunk
Ecstatic
Embarrassed
Energetic
Enraged
Enthralled
Envious
Exanimate
Excited
Exhausted
Flirty
Frustrated
Full
Geeky
Giddy
Giggly
Gloomy
Good
Grateful
Groggy
Grumpy
Guilty
Happy
High
Hopeful
Horny
Hot
Hungry
Hyper
Impressed
Indescribable
Indifferent
Infuriated
Intimidated
Irate
Irritated
Jealous
Jubilant
Lazy
Lethargic
Listless
Lonely
Loved
Melancholy
Mellow
Mischievous
Moody
Morose
Naughty
Nauseated
Nerdy
Nervous
Nostalgic
Numb
Okay
Optimistic
Peaceful
Pensive
Pessimistic
Pissed off
Pleased
Predatory
Productive
Quixotic
Recumbent
Refreshed
Rejected
Rejuvenated
Relaxed
Relieved
Restless
Rushed
Sad
Satisfied
Scared
Shocked
Sick
Silly
Sleepy
Sore
Stressed
Surprised
Sympathetic
Thankful
Thirsty
Thoughtful
Tired
Touched
Uncomfortable
Weird
Working
Worried



We hope you enjoy reading these as much as we enjoyed writing them! :)

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Quixotic (Hobbits n' Orli)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-09 06:33 pm UTC (link)
"This is a crap idea," Billy tells them. "You've lost the plot this time." He crosses his arms and leans against the hood, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the dark and empty road.

"Quiet, old man." Dom reaches out to flick at Billy's ear as he jogs past. Elijah launches himself out of the car next, scampering after Dom, and whooping something shrill and American-sounding. And Orli follows, unfolding himself from the passenger seat more slowly. He stops beside Billy, staring up, fascinated, at the arc of the blades cutting the damp night.

"Mental," Billy says.

"No." Orlando's voice trails off. "It's really ..."

"Dutch?" But Orli isn't looking for teasing, so Billy pitches his voice quiet because it's that kind of moment. "You alright, mate?"

Shaking his head, Orlando shoots Billy a quicksilver grin, the kind that will have him plastered on the cover of every teen magazine within months. "Tired, a bit. Jetlagged." He smiles again, handsome, reassuring, but his eyes keep darting up the hill, towards Elijah, who is bent double with laughter over something Dominic has said. Orlando claps a tanned hand on Billy's shoulder before loping away to join the others. Billy can only guess at what cracked scheme they are formulating.

He sighs and reaches behind into the open car to pull out a beer. Then he settles more comfortably against the cool metal, watching his friends tilt at windmills.

(Reply to this)

Sympathetic (Ian/Dom, Dom/Orlando)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-09 07:30 pm UTC (link)
They're good boys, all of them, in spite of their silly child-games and pranks. They're tender, open, loving, and dreadfully talented. And in spite of his age and the distance it creates between them, Ian knows these boys, knows them intimately, and has known them since the first day he shook their hands.

So he knew this day was coming, knew it and ached for it, mostly because Dom did not.

Orlando is pretty and clever, smart and appealing, and with that mane of false blonde hair and those startling eyes, he's destined for fame and fortune. That lovely face plastered over a dozen teen magazines, girls writing his name on their bellies and breasts, and there was just no way Dom could compete with the blinding spotlight.

But it still breaks Dom's heart, because he's young and has never experienced it before. He mopes, he cries, he looks flat and gray and full of wrinkles. And the others don't know what to do for him, don't know what to say or how to feel, because they're all young, too, and don't yet know what Los Angeles can do to love.

Ian knows. Knows it firsthand from lovers who were destined for better things and friends who've been left behind along the way. He knows that a broken heart can never be mended. All you can do is trace the scars with a loving hand and share your own.

And so he does, in quiet conversations over tea and tears, and when Dom collapses in his arms, Ian knows him very well indeed.

(Reply to this)

Mischievous (Viggo, Liv)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-09 08:09 pm UTC (link)
There are many advantages to being an American princess in Middle Earth, the only actress on a set of boys.

It means that she's been able to develop a wonderful relationship with Phillipa, and it always pays to have the screenwriter on-side.

It also means that a little delicate flirtation -- "So, David, they tell me you're the expert" -- leaves devastation in her wake.

The disadvantage is that Viggo knows Liv feels she has something to prove. And every time he strokes his beard and says, "Pete, I think there should be more Elvish here," she has no choice but to smile sweetly and learn the damn lines like it's no effort at all.

But when Aragorn tells Arwen, "Edra le men, men na guil edwen, haer o auth a nîr a naeth," and she replies, "Auta miqula orqu," he continues smugly with the scene, suspecting nothing. No one says anything until Rushes that evening, when subtitles are added to the scene, and her triumph is writ large upon Viggo's reddening face.

Because that's another of Liv's advantages: the Men of the West have a nasty habit of underestimating their princesses.

(Reply to this)

Curious (Dom/Elijah)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-09 08:13 pm UTC (link)
Sometimes, when Dom isn't around, Elijah goes snooping through his things.

Not really snooping. Well, at least, not a bad kind of snooping. He never takes anything, never judges or tries to manipulate. He's just curious. Mystified, even. And that makes sense, because Dom is a kind of mystifying character. Random, quirky, incorrigible. Very few people ever really get Dominic Monaghan.

And by God, Elijah's going to be one of them.

'Cause Sblomie's a mess, a catastrophe, a haphazard collage of a man-thing, like some college freshman's art project gone hopelessly awry. He's got a Rubbermaid tub full of disposable cameras containing pictures he's never bothered to get developed. He keeps Bazooka Joe bubblegum in his nightstand drawer and saves all the shitty jokes in a Ziploc baggie. There's even an old glass bong full of foreign change resting by his sink.

Lijah doesn't know what to do with all of it. Try as he might, he can't sort it out. Why the fuck would a grown man need Teddy Ruxpin cassette tapes or a hundred plastic wristbands from a hundred different clubs? What on earth does he do with all of it?

And it fucking drives him insane, not knowing, not getting it, to the point where he can't think straight and curiosity nearly kills him.

(Reply to this)

Embarrassed (Orlando/Elijah)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-09 08:52 pm UTC (link)
"It wasn't any good, was it."

Elijah says the words miserably, an admission, not a question. Sitting on the edge of the bed, half-tangled in stained sheets that are swimming around his waist, staring down at his naked, stupid feet as they rest flatly on the hotel carpeting.

Orlando just chuckles as he stands in front of the mirror naked, all whipcord leanness and divine sinew. He's combing some sort of hair goop through his artfully disheveled dark curls. It smells like coconut. It smells like last night. "Love of God, doodle, it was your first time. It gets better."

And that just makes the blush deeper, because Orli wasn't supposed to actually agree with him. He was supposed to tell him that it was wonderful, firecrackers and moonbeams, like his first girlfriend China did, even when Elijah knows she didn't get off on it. Consequences of sleeping with boys -- they're too fucking honest the morning after.

"I didn't mean to, you know," Elijah tries again, covering the reddened nape of his neck with his palm. "It was just ... it was so intense. I couldn't hold off any longer."

"I know," Orli says simply. He makes a series of silly faces in the mirror, checking his teeth, scanning for pimples, sticking his tongue out and just being goofy. "Really, don't worry about it, Lij."

But Elijah is worried about it, and he talks too much when he gets nervous, and since Orli's so cool about everything, he has to fill up the empty places with something. "And I shouldn't have asked you all those questions, not very romantic of me, trying to get you to give me biology lessons in the middle of all ... well, all that ..."

Before he can finish, Orlando's managed to skip across the room (literally, he skips, and that does delicious things to parts of Orli's anatomy that makes Elijah blush even harder) and plants a kiss right on top of Elijah's head. He ruffles his hair, gives him a grin. "Cheer up, Lij," he says fondly. "There's always next time."

It takes him a minute, but just a minute, and then Elijah's grinning back. "Next time?" he says shyly, and then there's nothing to feel embarrassed about at all.

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Numb (Elijah/Billy)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-09 08:58 pm UTC (link)
His left arm has lost any and all feeling, but Elijah isn't moving, he isn't even breathing, because he's desperately afraid that if he shifts even a little bit, Billy will wake up and regret and the night will officially be over.

If the blood is allowed to return to Elijah's left arm, it'll bring with it memories of how it felt to drag his thumb across Billy's nipple. Or how it felt to lay his palm against Billy's chest, the skin warm and flushed beneath his splayed fingers. And he doesn't dare let himself remember, because memory means past, and then the night will officially be over.

If Elijah regains the use of his left arm, he'll want to curl it around Billy's waist. He'll want to pull Billy's limp body against his own until it moulds to every angle. He'll want to press his cock against the curve of Billy's ass and start it all again. To reclaim the simple perfection of the night that is officially over.

Wait. If they start again then they're through the night before, aren't they? Into the morning after and no longer drunk.

Not just a one night thing.

Elijah's left arm is numb, but his pulse is racing.

(Reply to this)

Listless (Dom/Billy, Dom/Elijah)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-09 09:29 pm UTC (link)
Everything is gray. Gray sky, gray earth, gray rain, gray sun. Colorless, worthless, bland and disgusting. His food tastes gray. Beer's turned into liquid ashes. There's no longer any point in moving.

"Dommie."

Once upon a time, things were different. Once upon a time in Middle Earth, in a fantasy land of lush green meadows and astonishing snow-capped mountains. The world was a bright jewel, delicate and sweet. Everything felt like absolute heaven.

A tug around his ankle. A worried sigh. "Come on, Sblom. It's been three days. Please?"

They used to kiss, and he remembers those kisses. Sweet, indulgent kisses that were passed back and forth behind the backs of everyone else around them, like secret notes in study hall, check "yes" for love, that sort of thing. And they were in love, and it was paradise, a fairy tale, a magnificent, magic moment in time.

The soft brush of a thumb against the naked pad of his feet. "I told you not to pick up the phone, Dommie. He only gets you down. Please, just get up, please, for me?"

But all that's gone now. No more Billy-kisses or sapphire-skies, no more radiance, no more sparkle. Everything's just gray like his broken heart, gray like his life, gray like the blanket he refuses to get out from under, no matter how hard Elijah tries.

"Please, please, Dommie, just move."

Dom doesn't.

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Disappointed (Dom/Billy, Billy/Ali)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-09 10:55 pm UTC (link)
Ali doesn't really know how it's supposed to be.

When was the last time we had breakfast together? Just breakfast. Drinking tea over the morning paper, and you used to let me sit on your lap. Used to.

She's not a stupid girl. Didn't think that having a slender band of gold would magically solve all their problems, or that it would turn their lives into something out of a fairy tale. She wasn't expecting perfection, or bliss, or absolute bloody happiness.

But Ali was expecting Bill to love her back.

Why won't you talk to me? Tell me something, tell me anything? You can tell me anything, you know. I'm your friend, your love, your Alison, your wife. You can even talk about him. Except you can't.

He keeps magazines stored in a little shoebox under his bed. He doesn't think she knows about it, but she does. Pieces of Dominic, scraps from tabloids, magazine covers, old photographs from New Zealand. There's a picture of them naked in there. Naked and kissing in the surf, and Billy's so beautiful, so gold and gorgeous and happy, that it actually made her smile.

The edges of the photograph are frayed. The color's a little yellow. She can tell Billy looks at this picture a lot.

I do love you, you know. I hurt from you, and I know I'm not good to you all the time, too, but I do love you, Bills. You're my everything. I married you.

She wishes, sometimes, that he'd leave her. That he'd just roll over one night and tell her that it's not working out, it's not what he wants, she's not what he wants. And then he would just kiss her, say, "I'm sorry, Al," and that would be that. Deep down in her heart, she knows that that's the only way all this will ever end. 'Cause she can't bear to leave him. Not ever.

Ali doesn't really know how it's supposed to be.

But oh, she doesn't think it's supposed to be like this.

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Sad (Dom/Billy)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-10 01:00 am UTC (link)
It's terribly late. The window is open, letting in dark summer wind. It rustles the gauzy curtains and makes them dance like phantoms around Billy's naked legs. He's leaning his head against the window frame, staring out at the rocks and crags below, his face drawn with want. There's an ache that burns under his skin and makes him hunch over.

Sheets rustle, breath hitches. In the glass, he can see Dominic stirring in the bed. He sits up, just a skinny shadow in the distorted reflection. Something painful crackles in Billy's ribcage.

"Billy," Dom calls, his voice frail and withered. Autumn is coming too swiftly this year. "Come back to bed, love. It's late."

Billy doesn't move. Just keeps looking out at the way the ocean hits the cliffs. So cruel, the way it crashes. So merciless. "Tell me, Dommie," he says softly. "What's the saddest thing you've ever seen?"

Dom almost sounds desperate. "You."

Another wave dies on the rocks. Billy just closes his eyes.

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Worried (Andy/Ring)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-10 12:02 pm UTC (link)
When shooting wraps, and Pete and Fran make a huge production of bestowing the One Ring upon Elijah, Andy claps and cheers with the rest of them.

But his first thought is: Why does he get the Ring?

His second thought is: I should get the Ring.

And his third thought is: Bloody fucking hell.

Andy drinks a lot that night.

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Surprised (Hobbits n' Orli)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-10 07:31 pm UTC (link)
"What? No way! Wait ... really?" Elijah's brow furrows.

"Come on, Orli!" Dom says irritably. "Just fucking admit it."

"We didn't. Really. Give me a G&T, would ya?" Orlando turns back to the bar.

"Och," Billy mumbles into his own, stouter, drink. It's not clear whether he's referencing Orlando's answer or his inferior taste in alcohol.

"Huh?" Lij asks, and Dom replies dismissively, "Ignore him, Elwood. He's being dour and drunk and Scottish." He leans across to rap Orlando sharply on the shoulder. "Oi!"

"It never happened."

"Give over."

Orlando swivels 'round, long legs draping over the stool, dark eyes amused. "It didn't. Why don't you believe me?"

"Oh, come on." Dom's jaw has unhinged and it's sliding to the left; his eyes are goggly with disbelief; his voice is rife with dissatisfaction. "Don't be such a wanker. What does it matter now if you tell us?"

"I am telling you, mate. There was nothing going on between me and Viggo."

Elijah breaks in. "Dude, I saw King, okay?"

"I should hope so," laughs Orli.

"You can't tell me there wasn't chemistry there!"

"I can't speak for Leggy and Aragorn, but we weren't shagging."

"Hah!" proclaims Dom.

"Hah!" proclaims Elijah.

Billy mumbles something which, after a moment, is determined to be "Aye, an then yer bluidy arse fell aff." They ignore him.

"You still don't believe me, do you?"

"Dude, no way! You were totally doing it!"

"Dom?"

Dom shakes his head sadly. "I'm sorry, mate. The Internet can't be wrong."

"You know, the Internet also says you and Bill are shagging. And you and Elijah."

"Clishmaclaiver." Billy makes a rude gesture, nearly spilling his drink all over Orlando. "Ah, fook. Ahm smeekit."

Dom tries one more time. Implores, "Bill, you don't believe Orli's shite, do you?"

"Fucked tefano. Ah cannae tell: he wid shag for a fish supper, so he would."

The others stare at him dubiously, then Elijah turns back to Orlando with something akin to desperation.

"So, um, who have you slept with then?"

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Rejected (Elijah)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-12 07:00 am UTC (link)
New York's too fucking cold in the wintertime, too bitter, too frozen, too dead. Just too fucking cold, in every possible horrible way.

"Come back and talk to me when you hit puberty."

His teeth chatter as he walks through Times Square, and Elijah hunches his shoulders, tries to brace himself against the hammering wind and tiny, driving nails of icy rain. Dips his head a little, buries his nose in the scarf Sblomie got him for Christmas. Still smells like him, like New Zealand, like Los Angeles. Like better days and warmer weather. Like better everything.

"Look, kid, maybe that shit flies back in Middle Earth, but this is fucking Broadway, get it?"

On days like this, Elijah sometimes wonders if he's making the right choices, if he's ever made the right choices. He wanted to try and grow, try to expand as an actor, try to explore his range and stretch his limits. But New York's not a place for stretching and exploring, and its limitations are everywhere. And even though Elijah loves the city, there are times when he wonders if it really loves him back.

"Sorry, hobbit, but you're just not what we're looking for."

Sometimes, he just plain wonders.

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Angry (Dom/Billy)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-12 07:13 am UTC (link)
Dom turns on Billy, fury written in every line of his body. Fists clenched, knuckles white, words spitting rapidfire from his mouth. "You stupid fuck."

"Dommie--"

"Don't you ever do that again. Not ever."

"Dom--"

"I can't take it. I won't. You hear me? I'm done. You understand me, Bill?"

"Aye, I do." Billy's fingers stretch out and Dom's whole body trembles and shies from the light touch. Billy withdraws his hand.

"Just ... just fucking don't."

"Oh, mah wee poor love. Ah'm sorreh."

Dom inhales: once, twice. Sharp, stabbing gasps. His eyes shutter, and this time when Billy reaches towards him he allows the contact, though every muscle remains taut and unhappy.

"I'm not going to warn you again, Bill. I mean it." His eyes are still tightly closed.

Billy's lips brush his temple, and the air rushes out of Dom's lungs in one shuddering breath. "Dommie."

"Okay," whispers Dom. "We're okay." His voice is empty now; exhausted.

"Okay," repeats Billy, and his mouth moves softly against Dominic's feverish skin.

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High (Orlando)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-12 07:52 am UTC (link)
It's the bottom of the world, and he's as high as can be.

Staring down down down into a vista of green and blue and the roots of white-capped mountains; about to plummet toward oblivion -- or just a really brilliant time.

Elijah calls him an "adrenaline whore". Bean says he has a death wish. Neither are right, not entirely.

It's the control he craves; control in a place where he feels out of his depth and afraid for the first time in his life. He needs the certainty that only Orlando will be making decisions that affect Orlando: no outside interference, no lingering doubts, no paralyzing inferiority.

It's all up to him. Will he do it? Does he jump?

No.

He fucking leaps.

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Annoyed (Viggo/Orli)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-12 08:00 am UTC (link)
He leaves dead roaches in the driver's seat of Orlando's car. He always drinks straight out of the soy milk carton. When they're lying in bed at night and Orlando is trying to have a serious conversation with him, he just takes a drag off his joint and hums Blur songs under his breath, like that's a fucking answer.

Orlando hates him. He really, honestly does. Stupid, inexplicable Viggo, with his five-year-old pranks and his enigmatic smiles. There's nothing solid with the bastard, nothing real, nothing certain. Instead, everything's all riddles and random non-sequitors. It's senseless and grating, and Orli doesn't know how much longer he can put up with it.

Slowly, his fingers like feathers, Viggo trails his hand down Orli's spine, and he uses the edge of his fingernail to trace the soft rise of Orlando's ass. So smart, so clever, and who cares what Viggo's singing under his breath when his fingers are slipping under the waistband of Orli's boxers and sliding between his cheeks? Who fucking cares at all?

Not Orlando. Not anymore.

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Crushed (Dom)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-12 11:24 am UTC (link)
Dom hunkers down on the asphalt.

He's not sure what it is, but it's splattered all over the road like a bomb went off in its thorax.

The summer heat is rising in humid waves, melting through the rubber of his trainers. A car whizzes past, blowing dust in the vacuum of its passage. In the distance he hears the hum of the cicadas and the crew. He can recognize Bill's laughter even from out here and it makes him smile.

It looks as though the whatever it is had mandibles; once formidable, now disjointed and shattered. It's hard to tell how big this antipodean insect was originally. Dom thinks that it doesn't even really matter. Life isn't static, and this poor flattened bastard's still interesting, still new, still exists. It's just ... flat.

Dom slides onto his belly, cheek to the scorching surface of the road. He can feel the grit digging into his skin and taste that the air is oily down here. Another car passes, slowing to look, then speeding up until it disappears over the rise of the hill.

Then it's just the two of them; alone, but for the vibrations of the world.

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Groggy (?)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-12 02:09 pm UTC (link)
He's never at his best first thing in the morning, everyone knows that, and how is it his fault if they're all so close it's incestuous, and how is it his fault that they're always touching and smacking and joking and bloody licking each other? Like there haven't been other nights like this past one, fucked out of their skulls and sloppy with it. Like there haven't been other times when they've collapsed into bed, tangled up with drunken limbs and boozy breath and cocks that don't know any better. They all do it, they've all done it, most of the time they don't even remember it come the morning.

So how is it his fault that he murmured a name upon waking and guessed wrong?

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Bitchy (Miranda, Dom/Billy)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-12 02:39 pm UTC (link)
"Don't be a bitch, Miranda," Dominic snaps, and Miranda strongly considers snapping him one.

She watches, hands on hips, as he stalks off the field toward the trailer. Narrows her eyes in irritation. As if the ache in her thighs from the riding wasn't enough, now she's got this to deal with.

"He's missing Billy?" asks Karl.

"God knows. But if he doesn't watch it, I'll have to remind him which one of us has the most sword training. Then he'll see just how much of a bitch I can be."

(Reply to this)

Hungry (Dom/Billy)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-14 01:35 pm UTC (link)
“I’m going to be sweet to you, Dominic,” Bill tells him, and Bill’s hands are tangled in his hair, and Bill’s breath is hot and damp against his ear, and Bill’s words are honey-dipped and languid-light, and Dom wants the sweetness so badly he can taste it on his tongue.

“Okay,” says Dom, and he could eat Bill’s answering huff of laughter, could eat it right up.

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Horny (Elijah/Dom)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-14 02:40 pm UTC (link)
"Fuck, get that thing away from me!" Elijah jerks back from Dominic, the bass beat of the music counterpoint to his indignation. He holds up both hands in front of his body, warding off Dom. A girl dancing beside him glares as he bumps her.

Dom looks down, still moving. "What? This?" There's a visible bulge showing at the front of his too-tight pants.

"Of course, that! Can't we just dance in peace? God! Is sex all you think about?"

"Yes." Promptly. "Oh, like you're one to talk, Mr. Porn and Chocolate."

"At least I don't try to rub off against my friend's leg!"

Dom's eyes narrow, and he stalks forward, narrowing the distance between them. "You noticed."

"How could I not notice? You're fucking shoving it against my thigh! You wanna grind, find someone else!"

"How did it feel?"

The blood in Elijah's body is cycling from his cheeks to his groin and back again. "Dom--"

"How did it feel?"

"Dom. I'm not ... I'm not gay."

"I never said you were gay." He's really close now. Elijah can see threads of gold in his brown hair. He can smell the leather of those damned pants. "I asked you how it felt to have me pressed up against you."

Suddenly Dom's pressing there again, and it feels hot and hard and fucking dirty. And really, really, really good. Elijah opens his mouth to say something -- say anything -- but Dom is there before him, tongue and teeth mashing against Elijah's.

Elijah moans, and that appears to be all the answer Dom needs. Dom's erection is a steady pressure against Elijah's, forcing them backwards until Elijah's jammed against the edge of the bar, Dom melting against him so thoroughly that there's no space to move, no space to think.

"Dom--" he gasps. "Ahhh ... ahhh ... God--"

"Fuck, yeah," Dom growls, nipping at Elijah's throat.

Elijah's head falls back, and he moans again.

(Reply to this)

Melancholy (Dom/Billy)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-15 07:05 pm UTC (link)
dom is billy’s shadow
close but kept two steps away

dom is billy’s shadow
when billy is happy, dom feels
all muted greys to billy’s glow

dom is billy’s shadow
when billy speaks dom listens
but the shadow already knows

dom is billy’s shadow
when billy screams give me space, dom whispers i can’t
how can he extricate himself from billy as long as the sun still rises in the morning?

(Reply to this)

Weird (Cast)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-16 01:05 pm UTC (link)

(Reply to this)

Devious (Elijah)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-17 04:44 pm UTC (link)
He's a dirty little fucker. Really.

Oh, don't look at him that way. He knows how he looks. All big blue eyes and stupid boy-smile, like he's some kind of choir boy. And it's stupid, crippling even, and not just because he's always got to have ID when he buys his cigarettes. It cripples him in other ways.

They're all sitting around his living room, laughing, drinking, telling stories. Orlando's smirking, Dom is giggling, and Billy's just got that never-can-tell twist to his mouth that might be a thousand different things.

"So I told the bugger, fuck you if you don't have any lube, what the fuck do you take me for, some kind of bloody superhero?" Dom gasps, and Orli's roaring now, and Billy's groaning and giving Dom that mock-disapproving look.

"Come on, Dom, not in front of the doodle," he says, and there's a twinkle in his eyes but still. Still.

They think he's a child, but they don't know. They don't know that underneath that fairy-tale skin, he's a horror story waiting to come unraveled. Nasty, perverse thoughts dart through his head, and none of them think that little Elwood could ever picture bending Dom over that chair and showing him what it really feels like, or sucking off Orlando while he takes Boyd down to the fucking carpet. They don't know about the wounds he bears on his inner thighs, or the tiny teeth imprints underneath the collar of his turtleneck. They don't know the words Elijah Wood screams when he comes.

And as they keep going on about their lives, Elijah just smiles and plays his part.

'Cause one day, they're all gonna find out.

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Flirty (Dom/Colin Farrell)
[info]anniesj
2004-03-17 05:24 pm UTC (link)
He's just walking down Rodeo Drive, wielding a bag of freebies from some boutique or another, wearing his favorite green plastic sunglasses he got for $3 at a gas station in New Orleans. Contemplating a frappuccino, contemplating calling people, generally not thinking very much at all, when a possibly drunk (at 11 in the bloody morning?) and decidedly Irish voice calls after him:

"Hey, you! Hobbit!"

Startled, Dom turns around and sees Colin Farrell strolling down the street, dressed like glorious shit in a torn-up tee shirt and a dull gray wool skullcap. There's a cigarette in one hand and a cell phone in the other, and his grin so fierce that Dom honestly doesn't know whether to run or swoon.

The grin threatens to devour him as Colin stands in front of him. "You're that fuckin' Monaghan kid, right?" he asks, and Dom nods.

"Yeah, that's--"

Before he can even finish, Colin's kissing him full-on in the middle of the street, and fuck, there could be cameras here, but then he's not really thinking about that as Colin's tongue invades his mouth, sharp-hard teeth snapping at his lower lip, hand on his ass and holy fuck, but the man's got a grip. Got a grip on everything, doesn't he, going to lose his fucking mind if the bastard keeps kissing him like this, all hot and wet and full of early morning beer and afterglow, and God--

But then Colin's pulling back, his dark eyes alight with some kind of terrible fun, grinning at him like a wolf. And Dom's just staring at him, dumbfounded and kiss-stunned, as Colin pops his cigarette back in his mouth, picks up Dom's hand and scrawls a phone number on the palm with a Sharpie.

"You'd better had fuckin' call me now," he smirks, and just before he turns to walk away, Dom grabs him by the shoulder.

"What the hell was that?" he gasps, and Colin shoots him a grin.

"Flirting."

Dom saves the number.

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Touched (Billy/Orlando)
[info]circe_tigana
2004-03-17 05:44 pm UTC (link)
The first time it happens, Billy pays it no mind.

After all, Orli's a bigger whore than most when it comes to casual affection, and with this cast, that's saying a lot.

They're at a bar (aren't they always?) and Billy's shooting pool with the King of Men. There's an art to playing with Viggo, one that it's taken months for Billy to suss out. And now that he knows, the next trick is to not let Viggo know that he knows. Because if Viggo were to know that he knew, then there'd be no point in knowing, you know?

Ehm, well, anyway, that's why he doesn't really notice Orli hovering around the perimeters of the game. He's concentrating, like.

But then, just as Billy's watching Viggo line up for a shot, Orlando comes up behind Billy and just kind of melts over him, just leans down and envelops him with splayed arms and warm chest and grinning cheeks. Billy, of course, yelps, causing Viggo to look up in surprise. Causing the shot to go wide.

Orli disentangles. "You owe me a drink," he smirks, and saunters off, leaving Billy standing there staring after him like an imbecile.

That's the first time it happens.

It's not the last. And slowly (because he's never been quick when it comes to these sorts of things), Billy comes to understand that there's nothing casual about this affection. And that Orli might be after something a little more substantial than a pint of bitter.

But by that time they're already shagging like bunnies, so it doesn't really matter anyway.

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