#(also his killing urge was way more than it is now. and frank was ok with that. sorta. as long as he stayed safe…)

[wolvertooth]

(Power Man and Iron Fist, issues #66 + #78 + #84)

old comic: and they were partners

me, gay: oh my god they were partners……

[bakugotsundere]

Hating Him - Bakugou Katsuki (2)

Bakugo x (black) fem reader

( still can read if you’re not)

sorry if it bothers you, i just felt that my black readers weren’t feeling black as they were reading y/n stories cause i for sure wasn’t

Warning: Smut, Rough sex, hair pulling, name calling, Nsfw 18+

Summary: Bakugo and you have hated each other ever since you met, being on the same track team and having the same friend group didn’t make things any better. you 2 have to act like you like each other for the benefit of the friend group until one day you and him are forced to have movie night with the others and you both have had enough of each other’s shit.

It was now saturday and you had just came home from practice. It was about 6 in the afternoon. You started to run you some bath water, remembering how you’d have to go to the sleep over with Mina and the others. You and bakugou still didn’t get along, it was nothing but you 2 arguing at practice and the team being annoyed. You just couldn’t bring yourself to like him, no matter how hard you tried you just...couldn’t. Ever since you’ve got here, he’s hated you. He knew you were competition and he treated you like-so, even though you were on the same team. He didn’t care and neither did you.

you took off your uniform, stretching before you got into the bath water. the feeling was amazing, your muscles were finally relaxed. The feeling of the bath water brought you ease. You enjoyed this time, since you knew tonight was going to be crazy. You closed your eyes, calming yourself down as you cleared your mind. Frank ocean played on your headphones. You washed up about 4 times before rinsing yourself off with the shower head. You stepped out of your bath tub, dancing like a white lady on those commercials, as weird as it sounds it was the funnest thing ever. Pretty Girl by Clairo played on your headphones now. You dropped your towel, grabbing your shea butter, rubbing it all over your body.

You washed your face, letting it air dry afterwards. You grabbed a 2 piece pajama set that was satin, placing it in your bag. The top and bottoms matched, it was a cream color that was really light. You put on some thigh length socks. Mina had bought the pajama set for the movie tonight. You didn’t know if it fit or not so you brought something with you just in case. you were supposed to change at her house but the boys had to come in their pajamas for some weird reason. You threw some biker shorts on and a tank top that you had cut a little, you put on your nike slides, waiting on Mina to come pick you up. You took out the flexi rods in your hair. the curls were loose since your hair had been so long. It was like mid back legnth. you picked it out a little bit, giving it more volume. You smiled, showing your dimples, loving out it turned out. You knew it’d only last for the weekend though. Your ginger hair was growing on you.

you rubbed a little moisturizer to your face, so it wasn’t dry. Then you applied a little lip gloss and put your apple watch back on and sprayed a little perfume on yourself and putting on some spray on deodorant. you placed the how shoes she got you in the back also. you grabbed your nike slides, putting them on so you wouldn’t be barefooted. You heard a notification pop up on your phone.

Mina> We’re outside. might have to sit on someone’s lap 🙃.

You had your fingers crossed, praying that it wasn’t bakugou and that he had took his own car. You didn’t want to have to sit on anybody’s lap really. You headed out your house, walking towards Mina’s navy blue audi. The windows were tinted so you couldn’t see inside. You opened up the back door to be greeted by Bakugou, “Hi y/n. I’m in love with your hair. i wish my hair was that long.” Yaoyorozu told you and you smiled, “thank you.” you said softly. “Hiiiiii. Bakugou is being quite grumpy right now, don’t worry about him.” Mina said as you noticed Denki in the front seat. Yaoyorozu was on Todorokis lap and Kirishima was sitting in the middle, focused on whatever was in his phone. “Bakugou help her open the trunk so she can put her things in there.”

He sighed, getting out of the car. He was wearing a black shirt along with grey nike sweatpants and a pair of nike slides. Fits him. He followed you to the trunk, as he did, you noticed that the he was more quiet than usual. you smiled, “Hello to you too bakugou.” he stated. “I’m not being friendly to you. They can’t hear us. Don’t pull what you did at practice again.” He told you, all you did was hand him his water bottle after he was forced to run 2 laps around the track field after practice since he had got into a fight and you were just helping him.

“i didn’t do anything, i was trying to be nice dummy. but clearly you didn’t take it that way.” You stated placing your bag inside the trunk. He watched your as your did so, his eyes lingered on your body longer than usual. He closed it and you followed him back to the car, he opened the door, getting back in. “Where will I sit?” you asked and mina looked in the back, sighing. “Maybe sit on bakugo or Kirishimas lap? Bakugou looked like he doesn’t even wanna be here. ask Kirishina.” Mina told you. Kirishima looked at you, giving you a cheeky smile, “Sure, you can-“

Bakugo interrupted him by slapping him upside his head. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.” Bakugo told him giving him a look, kirishima spoke up, “Nevermind I forgot to tell you guys I had a girlfriend.” He stated, bakugou looked at you and you knew that meant you had to sit on his lap. “Yaoyorozu can we umm...switch please?” You asked and she was about to say yes before Bakugos large hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you onto his lap, you closed the door, moving around to make yourself comfortable. “Don’t ever do that again. They’ll suspect that you don’t like me and we can’t have them know that.” He whispered in your ear and you felt butterflies swarm in your stomach, hating how you reacted towards his touch. You didn’t know why it’d mess up things if they found out you two didn’t like each other but you went along with it anyways. “Still wanna switch?” She asked and you shook your head with a small smile, “No, Bakugo should be fine.” You stated. His body was warm unlike yours, which made everything worse cause you had the urge to be up under him. “Everybody ready?” Mina asked and everybody in the car replied with a small yes.

Bakugos hands would squeeze your waist, pulling you down onto his lap more as you would go over pot holes or small bumps in the rode. you’d move around occasionally to a song until bakugo had told you stop moving. You guys were still in the car, just closer than before, you started to feel something pressing against your ass as Mina stopped at a red light. The outline of it was hard, thick and very long. Your cheeks went a bright pink, knowing what it was. It was bakugos little friend, you had caused this. You could feel yourself start to get moist at the feeling of this. You hated how nasty your body reacted to his. Your pussy began to throb as so did his print and you both had to sit there as if you didn’t feel each other’s private areas yearning for each other. you refused to accept it because you hated it. Hated him especially.

Mina pulled up to her house and everyone began to get out, you were about to get out but Bakugou pulled you back down onto his lap. He shifted underneath you, moving up, his hands gripped your inner thigh, “When we get inside this house, forget about this whole car ride. Pretend this shit never happened. Tell anybody about this and i’ll fucking kill you.” He told you, pushing you off his lap. You got out the car shocked at what had just happened but you wanted to forget about what happened just as much as he did.

“Y/n? I missed you so much. I hate having a dorm, i never see you anymore.” you heard a familiar voice say and you realized it was Asui and smiled, giving her a small hug. Asui was a very chill person but she was confused all the time which made her adorable. She had on a green shirt and sweatpants, with her long hair in 2 pigtails. “I miss you too, you should stop by my house some time.” You said excitedly. “Will do.” She told you going into the house. You looked in the trunk, searching for your bag, “What happened to my bag?” you asked. Todoroki nodded his head at the door, “Bakugou took it in with him i think. He’s been acting weird ever since you came to our college.” He said, going into Mina’s house as he mumbled the last part to himself. You had wondered what he meant by “weird” and more importantly what did he do with your bag.

You followed behind him going into her house, Her house was huge, like huge. Her mother had money, so she bought Mina her own house, there was enough space and room in here for all of you. You missed the comforting smell of her house, you hadn’t been here in so long. You looked around, noticing she changed a few things around. “Anybody know where bakugou went?” you asked and everyone shook there head no, you sighed going upstairs, looking in each room, going back down the hall after no luck in finding him your face hit something hard, like real hard. You looked up at what you had hit and it was bakugo, your cheeks turned pink remembering the car ride, “Where’s my bag?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders as he stared down at you, “When i got in, Mina took it from me.” He stated. Ok. This wasn’t as awkward as you expected “Why’d you umm...why’d you grab my bag?” you asked confused on why his hands was touching your stuff.

“Because messing with your shit is fun. Why else?”He asked. “I dislike you.” You told him angrily, trying your hardest to keep your cool. “Sure.” He told you before walking past you. You figured you wouldn’t stress it and went back downstairs into the living room, everyone got settled in, making pallets and grabbing out all the board games. you had told them that you didn’t wanna participate in any games but the card games. They were now starting a game of domino.

Bakugou was making the cookies and you watched him as he did. Your eyes followed his hands, his fingers were long and large. he had two silver rings on the pointer finger of his left hand. “Y/n, since you and bakugo don’t want to participate in any of the games, you can be the chefs for tonight. Make the cinnamon rolls too please.” Denki told you from the couch, snapping your attention away from Bakugou and you laughed softly going into the kitchen, “I do wanna play war with the cards though, so don’t forget about me when the card games come around.” you told him and he nodded his head.

“I could’ve made the cinnamon rolls.” Bakugou told you as you opened the ‘fridge. you rolled your eyes, “yes but they asked me, focus on your cookies idiot.” You replied grabbing them from the refrigerator. “Your mouth is too smart.” He said turning the oven on 350, You grabbed a pan from underneath the cabinet, loading them on the counter between the stove and refrigerator. You turned around, watching him as he placed the cookies in the oven, “so fix it.” you told him, looking him in his eyes, daring him to do something.

“I will.”

you didn’t know what he meant by that but you could tell that it wasn’t good but you didn’t care, what’s the worse that he could do.

You turned back around opening the cinnamon rolls, placing them on the pan after spraying spam onto the pan. You opened the oven, putting the cinnamon rolls inside. steve lacy played loudly on the tv and you danced around in the kitchen as you grabbed the things you needed, loving every part of this, you grabbed the oreos, placing them on the island top counter, along with the pancake mix. they told you to make fried oreos also. Bakugou watched you intensely. His eyes never leaving your dancing body.The only reason you knew how to cook was because your mother was a chef and was very experimental with foods and taught you lots of stuff. You grabbed the wisk, mixing in the water with the pancake mix. The mixing was going by very very slow and there was still chunks.

You started asking yourself what you did wrong until you felt Bakugos hands at your waist. He placed his hand over yours, showing you how to mix, you were about to tell him to move but he whispered something in you ear, “Play along, if they find out we don’t like each other shit will go down hill.” he told you and you sighed nodding your head. You knew he was right, everyone in this group liked each other, and if they found out that you 2 hated each other, things would go left. You knew how fragile this group was.

“Mix in small circles so you’re able to get everything.” He told you with his left hand still at your waist, he was able to mix everything together with ease. “Thank you.” you said softly, you felt yourself start to throb down there again as he pressed hisself against you more. You didn’t know if it was on purpose so you didn’t bother with saying anything. “Did your mother teach you how to cook?” you asked him and he shook his head. “No. I taught myself because I wanted to make food my way instead of hers. It wasn’t nasty or anything, just not what i wanted.” He stated firmly as he started up the grease to fry them in. Sounds like him. You stood next to him, “I still hate you.” He said and you looked up at him, “I hate you too. Trust me, the way i feel about you hasn’t changed.”

He tried to move you out of the way but you removed yourself from his grip, hitting him in his arm. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back and bringing his lips to your ear, “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”He warned letting go of your hair harshly, you stood there in aw of what he just had done. There’s no way you were just gonna let him get away with that but what could you possibly do to him?

He walked away from you telling you to watch the grease, he just violated you and you stood there and let it happen. He’s so...so fucking annoying.

...

It was getting late, everybody had wined down. The music was turned off and the movie was on. You and Bakugo hadn’t talked since he did what he did, you decided to avoid him for the night, being in his presence irritated you. He had been so strict on everything tonight as if this was his house when it wasn’t. He told everyone that he didn’t wanna sleep on the couch or ground so he slept in one of the rooms upstairs. Popcorn was everywhere and now it was just a bunch of adults, sleeping wildly across the floors and couches.

You looked around softly laughing at everyone’s positions. Asui was sleep in the recliner, she was cute when she slept. Denki was on the other couch by himself with his feet hanging off the edge and slob coming down his cheek. Mina and Kirishima were on the ground, the 2 of them had been the most tired since they had been play fighting each other all day. Minas foot was in his mouth and kirishimas was in hers. you tried your hardest not to let out an ugly laugh, Yaoyorozu had left, telling us that she had family problems but you all knew she didn’t, she just hated sleeping anywhere that was not her bed. Todorokis head was in your lap, he stayed still when he slept. You got along with Todoroki the most, he was very observant. He tried telling you that Bakugou has been wanting to have sex with you since you came to the university and you almost slapped him for saying that, you knew it was a lie and he was just saying stuff. After that, he laid his head on your thighs asking if you had ever considered being a pillow. at that point you knew that it was time for him to get rest and he soon fell asleep.

Nobody but you had watched the movie all the way through, you had been watching this movie called hansle and grettle. It was very scary but confused you in the end a bit. You removed Todorokis head from your lap, gently placing it on the couch. You slid to the refrigerator, opening it, grabbing the picture of water. You grabbed a wooden cup from the cabinet placing it on the counter and poured the water inside it.

“Why are you up?” You heard a deep, raspy voice say. You jumped in surprise, spilling a little water on your shirt. You sighed turning around, seeing who had just scared the shit out of you. You were met with a wide awoke Bakugo, his hair was a bit messy and you couldn’t ignore the fact that he looked good. You turned back around, ignoring him. You were serious about ignoring him. You went on, drinking your water. “How long are you gonna keep up with this bull shit?” he asked you and you stood there silent, not answering him. You had been put on your satin pajamas after the games were over, bakugou had been upstairs the whole time you were here.

The satin pajamas barely fit but Mina insisted that you still wear them because you looked, “sexy”. Your thighs were all out, and the shirt fit like a crop top instead of a shirt, since your breast were big, the shirt raised up showing your underboob everytime you raised your arms above your head. You still had on your thigh length socks. You drunk the rest of your water, putting the cup in the sink. You placed the picture of water back in the refrigerator and You grabbed some paper towels going to wipe up the water you spilled.

You felt Bakugous presence behind you, “Move. I need a cup.” he told you and you stood there not listening to what he just told you to do. He purposely brushed his length against your ass, as he grabbed a cup, the same one as you. He went to the refrigerator, getting the picture of water, pouring it inside the cup he had. You watched him as he did so, his muscles were showing since he had on a black shirt and the black had fit him so well. Your eyes looked down, seeing his print through his grey sweatpants. It was huge, like big and you wondered how anybody could even take that inside them. Let alone get the tip in. Your eyes wandered to his hands, You had a hand kink and his hands fit into it. His fingers were neat, he had clear coat of polish on them. His fingernails were clipped to the perfect size. He took care of his hands. Veins popped out his hands slightly and his fingers were long. You found yourself getting moist as your mind wandered to how good his fingers would feel inside you.

His cup being sat down on the counter snapped you out of your fantasy. You looked back up to be met with his Vermillion eyes. He caught you staring, you hurriedly turned your head embarrassed. You hated yourself so much for this, for even thinking about such lewd things when it came to him. You hated him and him being so fucking perfect didn’t change that. You felt him behind you, this time his hands were at your waist. He positioned your hips, now your ass was rubbing against his cock. You took in a deep breath, restraining yourself from saying anything to him, “Its not nice to stare.” He told you in your ear as he moved your ass around his length. You stayed quiet, trying not to let a moan escape your lips. “Still giving me the silent treatment, are we?” His hand went across your bum, leaving a stinging sensation. You gasped, “C’mon y/n, say something before i go fucking crazy.” He told you as he played with the band of your shorts. You stayed quiet wanting to know what his crazy was. “You’re so god damn stubborn.” He said in your ear as you felt his hand press against your stomach, he began to place kisses on your shoulder and neck, feeling him sucking a little too hard, a small moan escaped your lips and you felt him smile against your skin, “I thought you hated me?”

You turned around to face him, “I-I hate you. Don’t ever for a second get to thinking that I don’t.” you told him as you pulled him closer towards you, crashing your lips against his, your small hands placed at his cheeks, loving how warm he was. He kissed back with more aggression, You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t like him but it was getting harder to believe as your body yearned for his touch and now the need to feel his hands all over you grew. He pulled back and tilted his head, “finally ready to fucking talk? i’ve got a lot to say darling.” he said as his hands squeeze your waist, you looked him in his eyes, scared of this eye contact but loving how beautiful his eyes were. “Like what?” you asked. His large hands traveled down to your ass, kneading it almost. “I hate you. hate you so fucking much but...” he continued to kiss you along your neck. “but i only hate you because i want you.” he stated in between kisses, “Nobody has ever made me want them,” his hands found there way to your breast, his large hands squeezing them, “but — god dammit— i’ve been wanting you ever since you walked onto that track field,” his hands were soon replaced by his mouth, your shirt now raised and your breast being sucked on, as if he was a baby, your moans were low and quiet. His eyes, looking up at you as he did so, watching you as you struggled to keep your moans to yourself.

Your back arched a little, and he brung his lips back up to yours. Everything was so heated and out of control but you liked it, so much pent up anger had led to this and fuck, it was good. His hands tugging at the hem of your satin shorts, wanting to touch something more private. Your breathing became heavy and you realized how far you and him were willing to take this. He pulled his ring off of his fingers, placing them on yours, “Can’t have them on while i finger fuck you so I want you to wear it.” He stated and you nodded your head. His hands found themselves inside your shorts and he dragged his middle finger between your pussy lips, “Someone you hate shouldn’t make you this wet darling.” He stated and the feeling of his thumb brushing against your throbbing clit made you moan almost too loudly. He smirked, already knowing this was the sensitive spot. He started to rub it faster and your lips parted as you held onto his arm. He knew how crazy this was driving you because with each circular motion, your pussy got wetter and wetter.

His two middle fingers pressed at your entrance as he brushed his thumb against your now swollen clit. You wanted this, needed it almost as he teased you. “Bakugo. I-I need you to...” you pleaded softly. “Need me to what. It’s not that fucking hard to say. C’mon.” you looked him in the eyes, he looked at you, “I need your permission. Tell me what the fuck you want y/n.” He spat out and your eyes fluttered at how he made wanting permission seem so aggressive but at the same turn a huge turn on, “I-I want your fingers inside of me.” You moaned, and he smiled shoving his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and you placed your hand over your mouth, letting out a muffled moan. “Wasn’t that hard to say, was it?” He asked as he brung his fingers in and out of you, your fingers digging into his forearms, as quiet moans left your mouth repeatedly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time, making sure he saw how pretty your face looked when you moaned just for him. He started going faster and your brown pupils dilated, “I-I’m about to cum.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear but soft enough so that the others wouldn’t. “Shhh...cant let the others hear you now can we?” He asked and you shook your head no as his fingers grazed against your walls at a rapid pace.

Your legs got weak as his fingers bent up inside you when he reached your spot. His name was moaned loudly from your lips, followed by him removing his hands from out of you and bringing them to his lips, tasting the juices from your pussy on his fingers. he looked at you before placing his fingers deep down your throat. He pulled them out, wiping his fingers on your cheek, “I need a taste.” He stated and you shook your head no, “That’s too far. They’ll hear us.” You stated looking over into the living room. Bakugo grabbed your chin, making you face him, he kissed you again, this time more passionate and slow but still rough, he bit your bottom lip, pulling it. “They won’t hear if you stay quiet. This is all on you.” He replied and you stayed quiet as you felt his hands grab you and turned you against the island top counter , this was closer to the living room, too close almost. The couch was almost right in front of you, only the other side of the table in the way and you could see Todoroki sleeping along with the others.

Bakugou didn’t care and acted as if they were not there. He made you bend over a little and he pulled off your panties, your juices now not having anything to soak through at all. He rubbed your ass roughly before you felt him go down, “so fucking pretty.” He said underneath his breath before you felt his tongue glide between your folds, a groan found it’s way out of your mouth. He started to use his whole mouth, making sure he tasted every part of your pussy. Quiet moans and whimpers leaving your mouth everytime he sucked at your clit, making it even more swollen. He lifted your leg across the counter, his tongue finding its way back to your clit, licking it repeatedly. You never had felt this before, this was something new to you coming from Bakugou. You knew he was experienced but not this much. His mouth pleased you as his hands gripped your ass so he could get a clear view of your pussy. His tongue found itself pressing against your entrance and you moaned louder than expected, he slapped your ass, “Be quiet.” He lowly growled and you gasped as he went back to move his tongue in and out of you, “Bakugo...I’m about to-

“No you’re not.” He stated and you looked back at him confused, he continued to eat you, “I-I can’t...” you breathe out, “Hold it. I want to see your pretty face when you cum, I need to taste everything.” He told you as he turned you around and placed you on the counter. His hand pressed at your pelvic area. He placed 3 fingers inside of you, knuckles deep and your eyes went wide as your back arched. You couldn’t go much longer. You lost it when his lips sucked at your puffy clit. His wrist, thrusting his fingers in and out of you fast and rough at a uncontrollable pace at the same time. Your hands found themselves gripping his hair and he looked up at you, seeing sweat drip down from your face and your curls all messy now, this sight made his cock throb and want to have himself inside of you even more but he just couldn’t get enough of your taste. You looked down at him and you could feel yourself reach your climax, your started to tremble underneath his touch and a foreign liquid came out of your body as you let out a series of loud moans, not caring if you had awoken anyone. Bakugo licked up every juice through a sly smile. He looked up at you, “You didn’t tell me you were a squirter.” He said pulling your panties back over your pussy, kissing your inner thigh gently before going up to kiss you and you tasted yourself on his lips.

When you pulled away from him and looked down at his print, he was really on hard now. You wondered if he’d be willing to take it that far but you didn’t just wanna leave him hanging. You looked up at him, “I...I” you tried to find words but nothing would come out and he placed the palm of his hand on your small cheek, “I don’t need anything in return. Tasting you was more for me than it was for you.” He stated and you played with your fingers, “Are you sure?” You asked and he nodded his head at the living room, you turned around to see Todoroki starting to wake up, “I don’t think you’d keep quiet if i fucked you right here but I’m sure this was enough for you to control that smart mouth of yours when you’re around me.” He stated. “Bakugo-

“I wanted a taste and I got what I came here for. See you at practice.” He said in your ear, making you realize how much you still hated him, “I still don’t like you.” You told him and he chuckled deeply sending chills throughout your body, “Are you trying to tell me or yourself?” He responded and your cheeks heated up and you got quiet. You watched him as he walked back upstairs, you could’ve sworn you saw him wiping your remaining juices off corners of his mouth with his thumb and sucking it off as he left you. realizing what he asked you. You put back on your shorts and you watched as Todoroki got up and came into the kitchen sleepily. “Why are you up?” He asked as He came around to you half asleep. he was about to step into the puddle of your juices on the floor. “Todoroki don’t-

He stepped into it, getting his sock wet, “Who the fuck spilled water and didn’t get it up?” He asked and you acted as if you didn’t know, knowing that the mess came from you, “I-I don’t know but I’ll get it up.” You said softly, realizing that Bakugo didn’t take his rings back and that you’d have to give them back in the morning.

[mxvladdy]

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

[babymetaldoll]

Danger Days - Chapter seven: "This mess we are in"

Word count: 12,7K

Summary: Matthew is worried after the incident Joey had with a fan. The drummer gets drunk celebrating Frank's birthday. In fact, everybody but Gerard is drunk, and they end up in a strip club. Joey makes a few bad decisions she regrets in the morning.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, bad decisions. Cursing.

A/N: Missing Gubler? don't worry, he'll be very present in the next chapter. Meanwhile, read how these kids keep making a mess they are gonna regret pretty soon.

Also, all of this is fiction and the gif ain't mine. Love you!

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |

--

- "We are not going out!"- Ray was emphatic and looked like an angry father as he stood in front of Joey, who kept frowning, very upset.

- "But Ray!!"- the drummer whined- "It's gonna be Frank's birthday!! We have to party!!"

- "No!"

Toro was serious. He stood in the middle of Joey's room, arm-crossed on his chest. She was dressed and ready to go, pouting.

- "Joey, there is no way I'm letting you leave the hotel in this country ever again!"

- "The country has nothing to do with what happened!"- there was a knock on the door, and she walked over to answer- "You already posted against the attack, Gerard made a speech, nothing is gonna happen to me!"

- "Hello Bug!!"- Frank walked in with Mikey and Gerard- "I heard you were ready to party!"- Ray sighed and covered his face with both hands.

- "Finally! my people are here!!"- Joey shouted, excited.

- "Yeah!! We brought pizza, beer, and video games. Let's do this!!"- Frank said, and Joey knit her brows immediately.

- "You have to be kidding me!"

- "Nope! It's gonna be my fucking party, and we are doing the fuck I want to do"- Frank said, smiling.

- "Fuck..."- Joey sighed and sat on her bed- "I got all pretty for nothing."

- "Not true. You are gonna look as hot as fuck in all the pictures we are gonna post of this lovely evening"- Iero chuckled at his own words.

- "Don't you fucking dare posting anything!"

Ray started the preach the minute Joey's cell phone rang, and the girl locked herself in the bathroom to have some privacy.

- "Akumu, I miss you"- she whispered and sat in the bathtub and stared at her boyfriend's face on the cell phone screen.

- "How are you? What the fuck happened?"- and he looked honestly worried and upset.

- "What?"

- "What the fuck happened today?? Why didn't you tell me a fan smashed a bottle against your head?!"- the drummer sighed and closed her eyes

- "'Cos I didn't want you to get worried."

- "Well, too bad 'cos I found out on Twitter, and I am fucking worried!"- Joey sighed, staring at him, and pouted- "Don't give me that all innocent look 'cos I am mad! How couldn't you fucking tell me, Joey?! This is serious!"

- "I am ok, Akumu. Nothing bad happened."

- "This is all Frank's fault!!"- Matthew was honestly upset. He kept walking around the set, hitting walls. and making his best not to yell at his girlfriend- "I wanna break that fucker's face!"

- "Please don't say that. He was just trying to help,"- Joey whispered but didn't have another excuse for her friend.

- "Well, he is an asshole..."- Gubler looked at Joey on the screen and sighed- "What if something worse would have happened?"

- "But it didn't"

- "Joey, I mean it, what if something awful happened to you on tour and I am not there with you..."- he paused 'cos a knot in his throat didn't let him say another word.

- "Matthew... I am ok, I am going to be ok. It was just a psycho fan. There are bodyguards around us the whole time. I am not walking around alone. And most important of all, I am not going to hide just 'cos a few teenagers hate me for touring with this band."

- "Joey, please don't be the tough girl I know you are this time. This is serious."

She sighed and stared at Matthew. Sometimes Joey felt he was more sensitive than she was. He wasn't afraid to feel, and she was scared to feel weak.

Joey's cell beeped as she and her boyfriend kept staring at each other in silence, both of them feeling like shit for being apart.

- "What is it?"

- "Mom is calling... I bet she knows too."

- "Call me later?"

- "Ok..."

- "I love you, Yami. I don't want anything bad ever to happen to you."

- "I love you too, Akumu... I'll call you in a few minutes, ok?"

- "Are you ok?"- Gerard asked his brother as he watched him drink a can of beer in less than two minutes.

- "Yeah, why?"

- "'Cos you look sad? Weird? Depressed?"

- "No, I'm ok. Have you talked to Lynz?"

- "Yeah, earlier today"

- "How is she?"

- "Good, she has a lot of work, but that's good 'cos she is busy"- Gerard didn't get why his brother was asking so much about his wife- "Are you sure you..."

- "Yeah, dude! I'm ok! I'm fine"- Mikey looked around and frowned- "Where's Bug?"

- "In the bathroom talking with Gubler"- Frank said as he walked to the door, and James walked in with more booze- "Yeah! Party time! excellent"

Iero was excited. A big part of him wanted to be back home with his wife and kids, but after the shitty day they had had, he felt like he could use a chill party with his friends to ease his mind from the deep guilt he was feeling.

Frank felt like the shit, to be honest. Before and after the show, he locked in his room alone and basically cursed himself for being such an asshole. He stared at the picture he took with Joey for a long time and felt he had been too selfish. He got carried away by the moment and his urges to kiss her, and everything ended up being a fucking disaster. The worst part of the whole mess: he fucking loved the picture. He would frame it if he could.

- "Iceland!"- Iero sort of yelled and hugged Joey as soon as she walked out the bathroom, making her chuckle surprised.

- "Jersey! are you drunk already?"

- "No, I'm just happy to see you! Now let's get drunk!"- the girl smiled and nodded- "Everything ok?"

- "Yeah, I was just talking with Matthew and my mom, and then with Matthew again. They saw the whole deal on the internet and were pretty scared... and Gubler hates you now"- Frank fake smiled at that, praying Joey didn't notice- "I'm just kidding!"- she quickly added and hugged Frank for a second- "He is just worried sick about everything."

- "We are all worried, but nothing bad will happen to you again"- Iero smiled, and Joey nodded, walking away from him.

To be honest, Frank didn't give a shit if Matthew hated him. He wasn't a fan of the actor either at that point. He followed Joey with his eyes across the room until he found Gerard looking at him with a frown. Iero smiled and nodded. Gerard did the same.

It wasn't even midnight yet, and Mikey was drunk. Seriously drunk. He sat next to Joey on the floor and rested his head on her shoulder.

- "Are you ready to sleep?"- she whispered and moved her head on his.

- "Nope."

- "Are you gonna puke?"

- "Not yet."

- "I always forget you are the most functional intoxicated person I have ever met,"- and Mikey chuckled.

- "I love you, Bug,"- the girl smiled and sighed. It made her happy to know she had a friend on him.

- "Thank you, bróðir, I love you too. I'm glad I met you"- she made a pause and turned to him- "But if you puke on me, I'll kill you"- and Mikey burst out laughing.

- "Got it."

- "Joey, you are up!"- Frank said and handed her the joystick- "Dude, come on! You can't be that drunk just yet! I'm still halfway there!"

- "Then you should catch up!"- Mikey answered with barely opened eyes.

- "It's on bitch!"- Frank laughed and walked to grab another beer. Joey chuckled and walked closer to the tv, to bump into her opponent: Gerard.

- "Hey"- she smiled and sat next to him- "What are we playing now?"

- "Mario Kart."

- "Ok, ready to lose?"

- "I don't know, are you?"- Joey turned to him and found his eyes on her, making her heart skip a beat.

- "Eat dirty, Gerard Way"- she answered and pressed start.

Gerard was chuckling nonstop as Joey groaned, frustrated. He was winning, and she hated it. Although, she knew she was having a good time. The rest of the guys were talking and drinking, so no one really paid attention to them.

- "And suck it!!"- he shouted, winning another race.

- "No way, José! You are fucking cheating!"- Joey argued immediately- "I want revenge! I need revenge!!"

- "Fine by me"- the singer smiled and watched how the girl started another race.

- "Hey, Gerard"- she said after a few minutes of playing.

- "Yeah?"

- "This is the first time we do something together in days... actually, this is the first time you talk to me in days... is everything ok?"

- "Yeah, why?"

Gerard pretended to be surprised. He was thankful they had to be looking at the screen, 'cos it kept him from staring at her eyes and melt. Joey was thinking the very same thing.

- "After the day you found me crying, you basically ignored me."

- "I didn't! I've been tired, that's all."

- "Is that it?"

- "Yes, of course. "Liar liar pants on fire."

- "Good,"- Joey made a pause and just spit out- "I thought maybe you were mad or uncomfortable with me after that nap."

- "No! of course not!"

Gerard was blushing and his deepest desire at that moment was to run away from that conversation. He felt like he had to lie about every single thing he had to tell that woman.

- "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

- "You didn't"

- "And if..."- Gerard paused the game and turned to her. He even sighed as his eyes locked in hers.

- "Joey, it's not a problem. I really enjoyed our time together that night, it was very special to me"- and suddenly he realized he wasn't lying, and it was a mistake- "I mean, we didn't start with the right foot and the fact we were able to talk and have a moment together made me very happy 'cos... it meant we were... leaving all that bullshit behind."

Joey nodded and sighed. They kept staring at each other, and Gerard had to literally fight the instinct of leaning over to kiss her. Until it got weird.

- "Can you please unpause the game so I can fucking kick your lousy ass??"- she said, waking from the trance and making her best to look cool after all whole time staring at him.

- "Burn!!"- Mikey yelled and sat next to Joey at the end of the bed.

That party was wild. By two in the morning, everybody was trashed, and Frank was drunk as a skunk. He kept walking around the room, holding a beer, wearing the dragon onesie Joey had gotten him as a birthday present. Why? She didn't have a reason. She just wanted to see if he would wear it. And he loved it.

- "Bug!! My phone!!"- Mikey shouted and looked at the girl, who stood at the other side of the room, laughing with Ray and James.

- "No!"- she replied and frowned as Mikey stumbled over, wasted.

- "I need it!"

- "No, you don't!"

- "I have to call my mom"- he begged with closed eyes in a big pout.

- "No, you can't call you "mom" this drunk"- the girl said with air quotes- "I told you I was gonna stop you."

- "You also said you were gonna get drunk with me."

- "Dude, I am drunk! You are intoxicated. There is a bunch of booze in between, but I'm not sober, and that's the point."

- "Bug, that made no sense"- Ray said, laughing, also pretty drunk.

- "Shit!"- and she giggled.

- "Now, the phone!!"- Mikey demanded, again.

- "No! I'm not gonna give it to you!"- Joey argued and felt Mikey wrapping his arms around her, searching for the phone in her pockets- "Dude! I don't even have it with me!"

- "Where is it?"

- "Why is Mikey not allowed to use his phone?"- Frank asked with glassy drunken eyes.

- "'Cos he is wasted"- Joey simply explained as the youngest Way kept searching around for his phone- "You are not gonna find it bróðir!! gefast upp!! (give up!)."

- "Don't go all drunk and Icelandic at the same time!"- Frank argued and wrapped an arm around Joey's waist, laughing along with her.

- "þú ert sætur! (You are cute!)"- the girl chuckled and kissed Frank's cheek.

Gerard was burning in anger, sipping his diet coke at the other side of the room, staring at the scene, thinking of a way to stop it all. Being jealous of Frank hadn't happened before, and he didn't know how to deal with it 'cos he was his fucking best friend.

- "You are a lovely drunk. Now, what the fuck did you say?"

- "Happy birthday"- she lied and stuck out her tongue- "Mikey!!"- and she turned around and let Frankie go- "You are never gonna find it!"

- "But I wanna call her!!"- he shouted, starting to lose it.

- "Why?"

- "'Cos I love her"- he whispered and felt Joey hugging him.

- "Come on, bróðir. You shouldn't do this... you know what's gonna happen."

Mikey broke into tears, and everybody was lost 'cos none of them knew what had happened.

- "Mikey, are you ok?"- Gerard asked and walked to his brother, honestly worried

- "I'm getting a divorce"- he simply confessed- "And I didn't want you to know."

The whole bunch of friends stayed quiet. Joey hugged Mikey again and felt him sobbing on her shoulder.

- "Dude, I'm so sorry"- Ray walked over and rubbed on his friend's back, as pretty much everybody in the room walked to hug him.

- "And you are not calling her,"- Joey added, and the whole bunch agreed with her- "You and I made an agreement when we were sober, and I am going to respect it."

- "Bug is right, dude"- Ray sat down next to Mikey and wrapped an arm around his shoulder in support- "You are going to regret everything you say to her in the morning."

- "You know what we should do?"- Joey kind of yelled- "We have to go to the Red Light District! Right now! I am gonna buy you a lap dance, my dear brother!!"

The girl's eyes shone as soon as she delivered that line, and no one in the band said a thing until...

- "Fuck yeah!!"- Frank yelled- "It's my birthday, and we are doing this!!"

- "We are not leaving the hotel this drunk"- Ray quickly said, being a bummer.

- "Can you stop being a dad just for tonight?"- Joey asked and pinched his cheeks- "Please! I can buy you a lap dance too."

- "Can you give me a lapdance, Bug?"- Frank asked, and Gerard clenched his fist.

Way had been in silence the whole time, surprised by his brother's news and not getting what was going on with that drunk bunch of people.

- "I'm just asking 'cos you are offering a lot, and I could help you save some money"- Joey hit Frank's arm and didn't even answer. Instead, she looked at Ray again and pouted.

- "Please, dad! Let me get a stripper to my friend"- and Toro chuckled.

- "Fine, let's do this, just 'cos I don't wanna be a bummer."

- "But I don't want a stripper"- Mikey argued- "I just wanna call my wife and tell her I love her!"

- "Mikey, you are getting tits on your face. You are not calling that bitch! Come on!"- Joey grabbed his hand and forced him to stand up- "I know I got this hot for a reason tonight!"

James was the first one to avoid the plan and returned to his room. The same about their tour manager, though he gently got them a van to take them from and to the bar and tickets to get into the best strip club in the Red Light District.

Gerard was only coming along 'cos he was worried about his brother and Joey. And about the fact Frankie sat next to her in the van, wrapping an arm around her waist, again. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder for a part of the trip, and Gerard couldn't do anything to stop it. He only knew he felt he had to rescue Joey from his friend. And make his best not to punch him in the process.

Gerard hadn't felt this jealous in years. Years. He didn't even remember if he had ever felt like that about his wife. Probably he had... but he couldn't recall it, 'cos this blind jealousy had taken over all his brain.

Joey was on fire that night. She was pretty drunk and mostly very worried about Mikey. He was her buddy and best friend in the band, and she wanted him to feel a little bit better. He had always been the nicest with her, aside from Ray. She wondered suddenly what nice thing she could do for Ray, but it was Mikey's moment that day.

They walked into the BonTon Stripclub Club Amsterdam, Joey singing Careless Whisper followed by the band. They were all pretty shy about going to a strip club. None of them would have ever thought about doing such a thing... well, not in a long while at least.

- "Come on, kids!"- she chuckled and thrust Mikey in.- "Let's get more booze and a lap dance for my buddy!"

- "Was she always this..."- but Gerard couldn't finish the sentence.

- "Fun? Drunk? Hot? Yeah, she has always been that"- Frank said, wasted, and followed the girl inside, grabbing her by the waist and walking to the bar.

But that time, Gerard didn't just stare. He quickly moved along and grabbed Joey's hand. Ray frowned and nodded. He totally got what was going on right away, and he knew how childish any dispute between Iero and Way could be. They were both like kids when they wanted the same thing, in this case, Joey's attention.

- "Hey... are you ok?"- Toro asked Mikey as he stood still, looking around in shock.

- "How did we end up here?"

- "Joey is gonna buy you a lap dance."

- "Right..."

- "Come on, buddy."

The band sat at the private VIP area, 'cos Ray (being the dad in every situation, even when drunk) thought it was better to catch the least attention as possible. Joey argued no one was going to pay attention to them in a strip club but gave up arguing when she got a champagne bottle in her hands and got to pick a girl for Mikey.

- "It's my birthday!"- Frank said and smiled in the sexiest way he could, considering how drunk he was.

- "Do you want a girl on your lap, too?"- Joey asked and grabbed another ten euros from her pocket- "Let me get a hot one!"

Frank chuckled, he didn't want one, but it was fun looking at the girl all hyperventilated.

- "Fuck! What if she makes out with a stripper? Shit! she totally should make out with a stripper! I wanna see her doing that!"- and now Frank couldn't get the idea from his head.

- "Ok, can we settle on being here for an hour and then going back to the hotel?"- Gerard tried to convince the bunch, but no one listened. Joey arrived with another girl, placed the money on her bra, and sat with the guys to enjoy the dance.

- "Mikey, Natasha was just telling me she thinks you are hot,"- Joey lied, 'cos the girl's name wasn't even Natasha, and she didn't speak English, but no one cared actually.

- "Really?"- "Natasha" kept dancing on Mikey's leg as he looked at her hypnotized. Joey chuckled, thinking at least for a while her friend wasn't going to think about the shitty wife who dumped him. She knew a stripper wasn't the solution to his problems, but it wasn't going to hurt under the circumstances.

Ray looked at Gerard and chuckled. For being the one who wanted to go home an hour ago, he seemed to be having a good time. Way sipped his diet coke and laughed as Joey and Mikey danced for them to a Loveage song. The girl kept putting bills on the edge of Mikey's pants as Frank spanked him.

- "Best birthday ever!"- he shouted- "Can we do this every year?"

- "You don't get to celebrate your birthday in Amsterdam every year, Jersey!"- Joey laughed and sat next to him to catch her breath- "Fuck, I'm tired"- she closed her eyes for a second, and the room started spinning- "Oh fuck! I'm wasted."

- "We should go back, then"- Gerard quickly said, staring at her with a worried gaze. It was apparent she had drunk way too much, and he still felt the urge to carry her in his arms and put her in a safe place, probably in his bed, to take care of her on his own.

- "Not until Mikey gets one last dance!"- Joey rang a bell, and Ray closed his eyes.

Honestly, Ray never thought Joey could be like that when she got drunk. Then again, you never really know anybody until you are locked with them on tour for weeks, not having many more people to talk with.

A stripper walked into the room, and Joey pointed at Mikey. But the woman walked to her instead and held her hand. Frank clapped like a maniac as Joey and the stripper started dancing together. Gerard wanted to stop the whole thing, and at the same time, he felt like staring at the show, hiding the boner in his pants. It was a hot scene. It was way too hot. He had material to jerk off for an entire month.

The stripper ran her hands over Joey's body as the girl chuckled nervously but actually enjoying her time. She knew it was harmless, and she was with her buddies... and Gerard. She was drunk, and for some weird reason, she wanted him to want her. She wanted him to think she was sexy.

- "I'm not gonna do anything about it, but if I fancy him, it's only fair that he fancies me as well"- she thought, drunk. And so, she slowly moved even closer to the stripper and smiled, staring into her eyes. The woman smiled back and slowly ran her tongue on her lips, landed her hands on Joey's waist, moving her closer to her and kissing her.

- "Holy shit!!"- Frank Iero yelled, jumping on his chair. Mikey widened his eyes, not believing what he was seeing, as Joey and the stripper kissed once more, with more passion, a little dirtier than the first, before giggling and splitting. Frank clapped. It was the only thing he could do with his hands in public at the moment. Ray did his best not to make eye contact with Joey, who blushed and sat down, looking at Gerard. She was a little embarrassed, a little aroused, and mostly wondering if Gerard Way wanted her at the moment. The answer was yes, but she had no idea how badly.

The stripper finished, and the whole gang stayed in silence. Joey chuckled again as Frank burst out laughing.

- "I thought the onesie was the perfect present, but that show was priceless. You, my friend, are the fucking best"- and Joey giggled.

- "Guys are so simple, a girl just gotta kiss a girl to get some attention"- she mumbled and yawned.

- "Bug, are you ok?"- Mikey asked and sat next to her- "Bug?"

- "I think she is falling asleep"- Gerard said and moved his brother away from her- "Let's take her back to the hotel."

- "Ok, I'm gonna pay"- Ray stood up, but Joey raised her arm and chuckled.

- "Dad, it's all covered."

- "What Bug?"- he leaned closer and moved the hair carefully from her face.

- "I owed you"- she smiled, and Ray sighed- "I told you I was gonna get you something with my first paycheck... I got you hoes!! Best drummer ever, right?"- the whole band nodded and smiled.

- "Best drummer ever, Iceland"- Frank stood up with her and kissed her temple- "Now let's get you to bed."

Gerard grabbed her jacket and made sure there was nothing else left when they left the room. They all walked to the door, doing their very best to look sober... of course, except for Gerard, who was, as always, the only one sober.

Raymond Toro carried Joey in his arms, bridal style, when they got off the van. Gerard was helping his brother Mikey walking, along with Frank, who was doing his best to look sober than he was.

- "Best fucking birthday ever!"- he chuckled in the elevator- "Thank you, guys."

- "We love you, Frankie"- Mikey whispered and tapped on his back- "Remember that when I throw up on you in a couple of minutes."

- "No one is going to throw up in the elevator. Come on, let's get Joey in bed,"- Ray argued immediately.

- "I'll puke in her bathroom"- Mikey nodded in agreement with his own words.

Gerard checked on her things until he found the key to her room, and everybody walked in. Mikey rushed into the bathroom and locked himself in there. Ray walked to the bed and carefully dropped Joey on it. Gerard took off her shoes and hesitated for a second if he should take anything else off. But he didn't.

- "Dude, we really trashed her room,"- Ray said and looked around. Frank was drinking a can of beer that was left on a table- "Really?"

- "I'm not even so..."- Frank didn't finish talking and gagged. He had to rush to the bathroom and fight for a place to puke.

- "This got wild"- Ray chuckled and started cleaning. He was wasted, but he still acted like the responsible one. Gerard didn't answer. He sat next to Joey and looked at her in silence.

- "Dude, stop that"- Ray argued right away.

- "What? I'm not doing anything"- Gerard tried to act cool, but it was too late.

- "I'm drunk, but I got it, you have a cr..."

- "Shh!"- Gee commanded his friend to stay quiet, and Toro chuckled.

- "So it's true."

- "I don't! I'm just worried about what happened today with the fan and how bad I acted when we met her... I just feel like I owe her being extra nice."

- "Sure, dude"- Ray laid on a couch and yawned- "Just remember I met you a million years ago, and you can't fool me that easily."

- "I am not fooling you, just... stop talking or even thinking about this."

- "Fine."

Ray yawned again and closed his eyes for a second. Gerard turned to Joey again to make sure she was asleep, suddenly he panicked, thinking she might have heard that conversation. But she didn't.

- "Ok, I feel better"- Mikey said, stumbling over the bed and lying next to Joey.

- "What the fuck are you doing?"- Gerard nearly yelled.

- "I'm crashing with Bug here 'cos I don't wanna sleep alone"- he kicked off his shoes and closed his eyes.

- "Dude, you can't sleep with her!"- Gerard wanted to do that, but he couldn't, so he wasn't going to let anyone sleep with her either.

- "Shut up, you are not mom"- Mikey argued, cuddled with Joey, and fell asleep a second later. Gerard was furious, staring at the scene. His little brother was spooning Joey, and he couldn't do anything about it.

- "Ray, help me take Mikey back to his room"- he said and turned to his friend: he was snoring on the couch- "You have to be fucking kidding me, Ray! Come one! Let's take Mikey to his room"- Gerard shook Toro's arm.

- "He's already asleep there. Let him rest"- he mumbled and took off his shoes.

- "Really? Are you doing this too?"- Ray didn't even answer- "Fucking shit!!"

Gerard was about to yell and force everybody out when he heard Frank retching in the bathroom. Way walked over and opened the door. Iero has kneeled next to the toilet, flushing.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah! Best birthday ever"- Frank smiled and repeated- "We hadn't had this fun in a long time, everything has been so serious lately... it felt good to just... be stupid for a while"- Gerard knew Frank wasn't just talking about the band- "And that chick, man! She knows how to party"- Way smiled and nodded.

- "Come on, let's get you to your room"- Frank nodded, and both of them walked out of the bathroom.

- "And where's everybody?"

- "Crashing here apparently"- Frank looked at Ray on the couch and at Mikey on the bed.

- "Oh, man! I wanted to crash here!"

- "Well, you are not!"

- "Why not?"- Frank whined, almost pouting.

- "There is no room to crash here!"

- "There is room right there!"- Frank laughed and walked to Joey's bed, but Gerard grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

- "You are not getting there!"

- "Oh, come on! Mikey is there!"

- "Can you shut the fuck up?!"- Joey grunted, her eyes still closed- "If there's room somewhere in this bed, get in there, stay quiet and make sure Mikey won't puke on me."

She moved to a side and hugged her pillow.

Neither Gerard of Frank said a thing. They just kicked off their shoes and crawled into bed. That was the fucking moment the two of them had been waiting for. In a way, at least.

Mikey cursed as soon as he woke up. He felt someone had hit him in the head with a stone. He opened his eyes and stayed still in shock: Joey was sleeping next to him. And so he panicked immediately.

- "What the fuck did I do?! No! no! No! I didn't fuck my best friend! Please! Somebody tell me I didn't fuck my best friend!"

He looked down and noticed he was fully dressed and that his brother was sleeping next to him. He was drunk, but he would never fuck his own brother. So for a second or two, Mikey felt better.

That until he remembered why he had gotten so drunk and his chest ached. He was getting a divorce. His wife had confessed she had been cheating for months now. She said she didn't love him anymore. He felt like he wanted to die. Not in an emotional way, but physically and painfully.

Tears fell from his eyes, but he didn't want to cry in the middle of the room surrounded by his friends. So Mikey slowly stood up and looked for his shoes.

- "Thank you, Bug"- he whispered and looked at the girl snoring before leaving the room quietly.

Gerard opened his eyes and contained his breathing for a second. Joey was sleeping next to him. It took him a minute or two to gather all the pieces of the night before. He stared at her making his best not to move. His heart was racing. He knew none of what he felt was right. He loved his wife very much. He had to stay away from Joey. But at the same time, damn it! He wanted to kiss her.

- "I don't wanna think about this anymore. Just five more days and this leg of the tour will be over, and I won't see her for a month..."- he slowly moved his hand closer to her but didn't dare to touch her. She could wake up, and he would be busted.

Joey started waking up slowly but refused to open her eyes. Her head hurt, and her mouth was dry. Hangover hit her as soon as she stopped dreaming. What happened the night before? It was Frank's birthday, they got wasted in her room... Mikey was in terrible shape... she forced them to go to a strip...

- "Fuck!"- she wide opened her eyes and sat on the bed as soon as she remembered she had taken her friends to a strip club, paid for lap dances to pretty much everybody, and even made out with one of the strippers.

But it didn't get better when she opened her eyes, 'cos first thing she noticed was Gerard and Frank with her on the bed, jumping with her yell, waking up pretty scared.

- "Oh shit! What the fuck are you doing here?"- she wide opened her eyes in shock

- "What? Oh... hey, Bug"- Frank opened his eyes and smiled- "We crashed your room 'cos we were too drunk to move."

Iero simply answered and laid back, to keep on sleeping. Joey looked at him and Ray on the couch, waving and literally falling asleep again a second later.

- "Are you ok?"- Gerard whispered and made her chill immediately. Gerard Way was sleeping with her on her bed. What the fuck?

- "My head is killing me"- the girl laid back and turned to him- "Fjandinn! (Damn!)"- she covered her face with both hands and wished to be sucked by the earth as soon as the memories kept hitting her- "Did I..."

- "Yeah, you kissed a stripper..."- Gerard whispered and smiled. Joey's cheeks were burning as she kept her eyes closed and covered herself with a blanket

- "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I never get so drunk and stupid and... I just..."

- "Nah, it's ok"- he whispered, making sure neither Ray nor Frank would wake up- "I mean, it was a fun night..."- he added, in a hopeless attempt to make the girl feel a little better.

- "Yeah, it was... but shit, I feel I made a fool out of myself"

- "Don't worry... you didn't"- Gerard made a pause and stared at her in deep silence for a moment- "It was... very... "it was so fucking hot! the way kissed that girl, I got a hard-on for so long, I almost locked myself in the bathroom of the bar to jerk off like a manic" very nice of you to try to cheer Mikey up."

- "He was so sad... he has been so fucking sad for so long..."

- "So you knew the whole thing?"- Joey stayed still and looked into the hazel eyes next to her. She could lie... but what for? Mikey had told everybody everything already.

- "Yeah... we've... he trusted me with his problems, and I've been trying to cheer him up ever since"- she made a pause and watched how Gerard's face was calmed and sweet. It was hard to concentrate if he was there staring at her- "Ég elska augun þín (I love your eyes)."

- "What?"- Gerard whispered, confused.

- "I... "Stupid!! It's a good thing you are rambling in Icelandic and not in English!" nothing, I'm just cursing 'cos my head is killing me."

- "Do you want to sleep some more?"- she nodded and took a look at her wristwatch.

- "It's too early to be awake"- he nodded and looked at her smile, scared to ask what he was about to.

- "Do you want me to go?"- he murmured and fought the instinct of moving closer to her.

- "No..."- she whispered immediately, not even thinking- "You can stay."

They looked at each other for a few seconds felt like minutes, though. Until Joey moved slowly on the bed and grabbed a blanket

- "Are you cold?"- Gerard asked and moved the blanket closer to her

- "Thank you"- he covered her with it and automatically wrapped his arms around her protectively, snuggling with her.

- "Goodnight, Gerard."

- "Goodnight, Joey."

When Frank woke up, he had to take a minute to remember where he was and what had happened the night before. He heard Ray's snores from somewhere in the room with him and rolled in the bed to see Joey and Gerard sleeping next to him.

- "What the fuck happened?"

Iero nearly grunted, staring at the scene. He remembered Mikey drunk puking, Joey kissing a girl, and... that was it. But none of that actually mattered that much, considering how pissed he was staring at Joey in Gerard's arms. She looked cozy and calmed, and... she could look even better in his arms. Why was she in Gerard's anyway?

Frank stared at her for a few seconds and then started coughing. Fake cough, noisy cough. Stridently enough to wake everybody up in a minute.

- "Are you dying?"- Joey asked, opening her eyes and staring at him, honestly concerned

- "I hope so, 'cos I feel like dying"- she smiled at him still in Gerard's arms. He was the big spoon in the hug, so Joey never saw his face when he woke up with her in his arms. Only Frank noticed that glance in his eyes. But refused to think his friend had a crush on the girl he was crushed on. They were both married men. They couldn't even think of being crush on her. It was just some silly thing, nothing to worry about.

- "Happy birthday, Jersey"- she whispered and smiled at her friend.

- "Thank you Iceland, I had a lot of fun last night."

- "It's still your birthday"- the girl added- "We can still do fun shit."

- "Stop trying to make fun shit"- Ray argued and walked from the couch to the bed, laying at it, next to Joey and Frank- "You are too young, and we are all old men who need to rest and eat soup."

The girl chuckled at his words and raised her hand, reaching Ray's wavy hair.

- "Move closer, old man, let me pet you"- she argued, and Ray chuckled.

- "We are not old men"- Gerard whispered and refused to take his arms from around Joey's waist, even though Ray and Frank could see him, and everybody knew it was weird.

- "You are the only one who's not hungover, man"- Frank smiled, watching how Joey was now braiding Ray's hair- "And yet last night you were the one who kept repeating we had to go back to the hotel."

- "'Cos you were all too drunk, especially you"- he said and shook Joey's arm sweetly.

- "Sorry, Gerard. I won't get that drunk and irresponsible again."

- "So you won't kiss strippers anymore?"- Frank asked, and Ray burst out laughing. Joey quickly grabbed a pillow and covered her head with it, forcing Gerard to remove his arms from around her.

- "I am never drinking again!"- the girl sentenced and stood up a few minutes later- "Now if you gentlemen excuse me, I am going to take a long shower. Then, I hunt this whole hotel for coffee... dad, when do we leave?"

- "After lunch, my dear, promiscuous, and slightly lesbian daughter"- Ray joked, and Joey grunted, walking to the bathroom and locking the door behind her back.

- "Get out of my room!!"- she yelled before starting the shower. Frank and Gerard sighed as Ray pulled them out of bed.

- "Come on! You heard her! Let's go!"

Joey took the longest shower. Well, Gerard's was longer 'cos he was jerking off. Just as Frank... not in the same shower. But it's not the point. Joey stood under the hot water for a good fifteen minutes 'cos she actually felt bad. She had flirted with Frank and with Gerard. She didn't know if they had noticed it, but she had, in fact, been a flirt with the two of them while being seriously drunk.

Besides, she slept with Mikey, Gerard, and Frank on the same bed. That wasn't better either. They were her friends, but they just met a few weeks before. She couldn't just act like that! They were all married. And besides, they were technically her employers.

Everything about the night before was wrong except for the part where they cheered Mikey up. Mikey worried Joey the most, and he and Ray were the only ones she wanted to talk to that day.

After her shower, Joey got into her sports outfit and hit the gym. She wasn't into it for beauty, but because she had to keep and work on her upper body strength for drumming. Besides, working out kept her mind from rambling into random thoughts, like Gerard's arms around her body. Damn, that felt good, which made it something very, very bad.

Gerard knocked on Mikey's room and waited, looking down at his shoes until his little brother showed up. Neither of them said a thing. Mikey walked back to his bed, and Gerard closed the door behind his back.

- "If you are coming here with the whole "Why didn't you tell me?" speech, I'm not in the mood for giving you stupid explanations."

- "I just wanted to bring you coffee"- Gee whispered and handed Mikey a cup.

- "Thanks."

- "How's the hangover?"

- "It's lovely, I am dying"- Mikey chuckled and closed his eyes for a moment. The tv was on, though neither of them paid any attention to it. Gerard sat next to his brother on the bed, and they stared at the screen for a while.

- "Frank is dying too."

- "The little rat was on fire last night... shit, how's Bug?"- Mikey asked, honestly concerned- "I'm gonna text her, her head gotta hurt like shit, hangover and hit with a bottle..."

- "She was fine. She kicked us out of the room and got into the shower."

- "Did she remember the whole stripper thing?"- Mikey snorted at his own words as she texted Joey.

- "Yeah, she was pretty embarrassed."

- "Dude, your boner was epic!"- Gerard looked at his brother and frowned, disgusted and busted.

- "What the fuck, man?!"

- "You looked so fucking funny trying to be the cool one"- Mikey was now laughing. Making fun of his brother was always something that made him feel better- "And hiding your woody with a jacket, adorable!"

- "Fucker!"- Gerard smacked his brother's head, but Mikey kept laughing.

- "You were at a strip club with two girls making out. You weren't the only one!"

- "Stop!!"

- "It's awkward to think about it because we were all hard at the same time, which is pretty much like watching porn together, and that's disturbing!"

- "Stop it!"

- "Never!! I'm the annoying little brother you had a hard-on with last night!!"- Mikey was laughing, and Gerard was disgusted- "Shit! That didn't come out quite right."

- "You think??!"

Gerard smacked him again, and they stayed quiet for another while. Mikey sighed and looked at the tv for another while. It was some random local show he couldn't even understand. But it was better than thinking.

- "Thanks for the coffee"- he whispered, and Gerard nodded

- "Any time you want..."- the silence continued for a while until Mikey turned to his brother and tried to explain.

- "I didn't want to tell you 'cos I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even want to think about it, 'cos it made it real, and I kept trying to pretend it was all in my head"- he made a pause and rearranged the words in his head- "I told Bug 'cos I didn't know her, she was there, I was drunk... I trusted her, and she was understanding with the whole "we are not analyzing this shit" deal. We just talked about random shit the whole time, and whenever I felt bad, I'd told her, and she would come up with something to do to ease my mind."

- "She is a good friend"

- "The best..."

- "I'm sorry I was jealous you were spending too much time with her"- Gerard was honest. However, he meant he didn't know his brother needed to hang out with her so badly, and he was just jealous Mikey had her attention the whole time.

- "Anyway... I still don't wanna talk about it."

- "That's cool."

- "So, let's pretend none of that happens or even exists."

- "Deal"- Gerard wrapped an arm around Mikey and rested his head on his shoulder- "Wanna go get something to eat?"

- "Not really"

- "Too bad I'm forcing you 'cos I don't wanna eat alone."

- "Fuck you."

- "I'm your annoying older brother. Deal with it."

Frank wiped off the tears as he stared at his daughters on the screen of his phone. They were so beautiful, sleeping in their little cribs. Jamia smiled and whispered happy birthday for the hundredth time to her husband.

- "I miss you so fucking much"- he said and sighed.

- "Just a few more days and you'll be changing diapers"- she answered with a big smile- "I'm happy you had a big celebration last night."

- "Yeah, it turned into a "let's cheer Mikey up" kind of thing pretty quickly, though."

- "I can't believe she cheated."

- "Me neither... I wanna kill her. He doesn't deserve this."

- "At least he has you there."

- "Yeah, Joey was so drunk she dragged us into a strip club and bought Mikey so many lap dances"- Jamia stayed still thinking what she had just heard- "Sorry, I mean, nothing happened."

- "Frank, calm down. I just never imagined she would be like that."

- "Neither did we... but she... Mikey had only told her about it, and I guess she was desperate to get him happy somehow."

- "That's nice"- and Jamia meant it- "What happened with her head?"

- "She is pretty hungover."

- "I mean, with the hit she got from that fan, Frank."

- "Sorry"- he smiled and watched his wife's face- "She is ok, she was very calmed, Ray was a dad."

- "Shocking!"

- "Yeah"- Frank chuckled- "Her boyfriend hates me, though."

- "Frank, what you did was so fucking stupid, and I feel you still don't get it! I should hate you for making that hot guy mad at you! Now we are never gonna be his friends... and I wanted to spend the holidays with him in California, where it's hot, and he can walk around without a shirt!"

- "Jamia Iero!!"- and she chuckled.

- "Sorry, I got carried away."

- "Yeah, you did."

- "Happy birthday, Frank."

- "Thank you."

- "You are the only hot guy I wanna see without a shirt"- he blushed and smiled.

- "'Cos I've got amazing tattoos?"

- "Yeah, that too."

Ray and Joey were having lunch together in the hotel. The two of them were eating, sunglasses on, and drinking coffee with their food. That's how bad it was.

- "Please stop me next time you see me with a drink."

- "Ditto"- he quickly answered ad smiled- "You seemed to be having a lot of fun, though."

- "I was."

- "I never imagined you were that wild when drunk"- and Joey laughed a little. Her head didn't let her make or listen to loud noises.

- "Well, I'm not wild... I just... sometimes..."- she made a pause and blushed. The truth was simple: he never really partied that much. She didn't have a lot of friends to party like that. Tucker was the only one, actually. And they never saw each other.

- "Is everything ok?"

- "Yeah, just don't tell Matthew about the stripper"- and Ray nodded, laughing.

- "Deal... the whole strip club thing or just the kiss?"

- "The whole deal, especially the kiss, I don't know if he is going to like that."

- "Why not? It was hot"- Joey raised an eyebrow and stared at her friend- "Sorry, it was..."

- "I mean, Matthew has this thing where he keeps trying to treat me like a little porcelain doll or a fragile princess. And that's so not me. If he knows what I did, I just feel that he will think less of me or something."

Ray looked at Joey and noticed how honest and vulnerable she was. For the first time since they met, Ray saw her winding down her shield.

- "Come on, Bug. It's not like you killed someone."

- "I know..."

- "You should tell him because it's a good party story, and he is gonna think it's awesome. Besides, Gubler looks like a nice guy who loves you very much,"- she nodded in silence and sipped her coffee.

- "He is the sweetest guy I've ever been with."

- "See?"

- "I just don't wanna disappoint him"- Toro landed a hand on her, and she smiled- "This is when you say, "If he hurts you, I'm gonna kill him" or something dad like"- he chuckled and nodded

- "You know that's how I feel"- he smiled and stayed in silence for a second- "And you are grounded for being such a party animal"- he added in a very paternal tone of voice.

- "But dad!! All the guys were drinking!"

- "I don't care what the other kids did! You are grounded, and tonight we are staying at the hotel watching horror movies"- she smiled and nodded.

- "Best plan ever, dad."

The ride to Paris was very quiet. Everybody was still tired from the night before, so they all basically just slept the whole trip. Now Joey was avoiding Gerard and also Frank. She decided to keep a safe and professional distance from the two of them. Joey still felt awkward about everything that had happened the night before.

- "I'll see you guys tomorrow"- the drummer smiled as they got the keys to their rooms. Gerard smiled and waved. She cut him the tiniest smile on earth and turned to the rest of the guys.

- "It's still my birthday Iceland, we should eat something and maybe go out and see the city, what do you say?"- he shook her arm with a huge grin- "Where is the party girl from last night?"

- "She stayed in Amsterdam, sorry"- she answered- "Go and have fun, I just need to do nothing for a night"- Joey grabbed her bags and walked to the elevator.

- "Everything ok with her?"- Gerard asked, watching her walk away. He felt her distance, and it bothered him. After waking up with her in his arms, he just wanted to keep her close.

- "Yeah, she is ok"- Ray nodded and grabbed his bag- "Wanna get room service and watch a movie? Halloween special?"- the whole gang stayed in silence- "Fine, I'll be eating and watching some Halloween classics alone."

Joey lied about not wanting to do anything or about being tired. She just didn't want to be with Gerard or Frank. Mostly Gerard. So she locked in her room and talked with Matthew for a long while instead.

- "I can't believe I'm not spending Halloween with you."

Joey pouted as she looked at Matthew, sitting on his couch, wearing the dorky Halloween sweater she had gotten for him, eating candies. She was wearing the dorky Halloween sweater he had gotten for her, eating candies as well.

- "Yami, when we are together, every night is Halloween"- he whispered and smiled.

- "That's the cutest thing ever!"- she blushed, and he giggled- "What are you doing tonight?"

- "The guys are gonna come to watch some terror classics with me."

- "I was going to do the same with Ray"- she smiled, and so did he.

- "So, did Mikey overcome his hungover?"

- "Yeah, he is a champ, we watched a few movies on the bus on our way over, and I'm guessing he is in his room right now."

- "And the rest of the guys?"

- "I think they were all pretty sick today... we kind of went real wild last night."

- "How wild?"- Gubler raised an eyebrow and looked at Joey. The girl sighed and bit his lips.

- "I might have gotten drunk."

- "And?"- Matthew wasn't enjoying the course of the conversation.

- "And I... decided to... cheer Mikey up."

- "How?"

- "I took him and the guys to a strip club and paid lap danced for everybody."

Joey just spit it. She had to say it. She wasn't going to be able to keep it from her boyfriend that much longer anyway.

- "If he is going to be mad at that... then maybe he is not as cool as I thought,"- she said to herself as she stared at his face, as a grin appeared on his lips.

- "What?! a strip club?! I can't believe it"- and Matthew Gray Gubler burst out laughing- "You are so amazing!!"

- "Do you really think so?"- Matthew was still laughing, and Joey was in shock.

- "Yes, Yami! That's pretty cool"- the sigh sighed, relieved, and kept her eyes on Gubler.

- "I also kissed a stripper... a little bit."

- "Wow!"- Matthew almost choke on the candy corn he was eating.

- "She kissed me actually, I didn't do anything or asked for anything.... she kissed me, and I laughed and... that's it..."- Joey closed her eyes and stayed very still.

- "You had a wild night without me, young girl!"- Matthew stared at the screen, trying his best to stay serious- "Is there any chance someone had footage of that moment?"

- "No"- Joey pouted and opened an eye to see how Matthew was taking her confession. He was still smiling- "You are not mad at me?"

- "'Cos you kissed a stripper? No, Joey. It's a bit upsetting I missed it, but I am not mad at you,"- she smiled and blushed.

- "I can kiss a stripper when I come home so you can watch"- Matthew laughed and grabbed his phone, kissing the screen.

- "I just want your kisses, Joey."

- "I'm a good kisser"- the girl joked, chuckling.

- "Yes, you are. That stripper is a fortunate woman"- there was a pause in the call. Matthew had to get something out of his system- "Can you please promise me you will not put yourself at risk again, please?"

- "With my wild party lifestyle? I swear I am not drinking again after last night!"- Joey chuckled, but Matthew Gray was serious.

- "I mean, with the fan and your head."

- "Akumu, you know I can take care of myself."

- "Yes, I do... but..."- and this was something that frustrated him the most- "I want to be there to protect you if you are in danger."

- "I am not in danger."

- "You are away, and I love you. If anything happens to you, I would never forgive myself for being so far."

- "Matthew Gray, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And if something bad happens to me, it would never be your fault, 'cos your work is not taking care of me like a little princess. Your job as my boyfriend is to love me and support me the way I love you and support you."

That frustrated Matthew, 'cos he loved her and he wanted to protect her. He knew life had been hard on her. He knew why she could be so rational and independent. He just wished she could ever let him take care of her the way he wanted to.

- "Promise you'll come home safe"- he whispered, and she nodded

- "That I can do, 'cos I have too many kisses to give you, Akumu."

Ray walked to his room and laid in bed, talked with his wife, and ordered dinner. He was still pretty tired from the night before.

- "Dad? Movies?"- he read the text and smiled

- "Thought you were tired"

- "You promised"

- "Come over."

- "Everything ok, Bug?"- he asked when the two of them sat on his bed and picked a classic movie for the night: Halloween, the 1978 original.

- "Yeah, why?"

- "I don't know. You look off."

- "I'm hungover dude, this is the best you are getting tonight"- he nodded and grabbed a bunch of the candies Joey had brought. She was loaded with sugar for the night. Tons of Halloween candies, her only way to be close to Matthew that night. That, and the sweater.

The two of them laid down and watched the movie in silence. Ray wrapped an arm around her, and Joey rested her head on his shoulder. Neither of them overanalyzed it. It just felt nice and friendly.

- "Dude, there is something I've been longing to ask you for a long while"- she said, not moving her eyes from the screen.

- "Shoot"

- "How do you keep your hair so good?"- Ray chuckled and messed with her hair- "No! Don't destroy the best I could do with my hair today!"- she giggled and grabbed her phone after feeling the hum of a text- "Mikey wants to hang out, can he come?"

- "Are you asking me for permission to bring a friend over?"- Ray asked and closed his eyes- "Shit, I am your dad."

- "Yes, embrace it"- Joey grinned and cuddled back with him- "And thank you for that, I don't let guys take care of me"

Her conversation earlier with Matthew was still spinning around her head. She let her boyfriend take care of her, but maybe Gubler couldn't see it... she had softened a lot being with him in the last six months. Perhaps it wasn't evident for everybody, but it was for her.

- "Wait! Are you sure you are indeed letting me taking care of you?"- Toro's eyes widened, surprised at that confession.

- "Yeah! Since I signed that contract"- Joey made a pause and made her best to explain- "I kept thinking about what we talked about earlier... you give the protector friend I never had vibe 'cos..." - Ray held her hand and rubbed it with his.

- "'Cos?"

- "'Cos I'm not really good with friends, I usually push people away."

- "You haven't done that with me."

- "I know. That's weird... you give a long-lost best friend feeling like Mikey gives me the older brother sensation."

- "You feel like a little sister- she smiled and stood up to answer the door- "But I don't think you push people away."

- "I do... that's what I've been told at least."

Mikey smiled at the other side of the door and raised his arm, showing a paper bag.

- "I've got candies."

- "Awesome! Come in."

- "You are not pushing me away, Bug!"- Ray finished the conversation and smiled- "Hey dude."

- "What are you talking about?"

- "Joey says she pushes people away"- Toro sum up as Joey laid back next to him, and they cuddled again.

- "You are doomed. You are not pushing me anywhere"- Mikey added, kicked off his shoes and laid next to her, holding her hand- "You are fucking stuck with a Mikey Way now."

Joey chuckled and sighed

- "Guess I'll have to learn how to deal with that."

Gerard was staring at the ceiling, mortified. He had talked with his wife already, he was definitely not hungry, and he just wanted to knock on Joey's door and ask her if everything was ok. She hasn't talked to him since that morning, and it honestly felt she was ignoring him. That wasn't normal. No one ignored him.

- "You are not going!"- he said to himself in his head as soon as he stood up from the bed- "No! No way!"- he grabbed the key to his room and put on his shoes- "Fucking stop!! Aren't you listening to me?!"- his brain kept yelling, but his body was still moving.

- "Hello! This is Gerard Way from room 1305, can you tell me which is Maria Sveinbjörndottir's room, please? Yes, she is part of my crew."

He waited in line for a second, and to his happiness, Joey had a room on his floor, just two doors down. It was heaven to Gerard. He took a deep breath and walked over. He planned to ask if there was something wrong, smile, and go back to his room. That was it. That was everything. He just wanted to make sure everything was ok. Nothing else.

He knocked and waited. Nothing. Again. He waited a little longer, 'cos maybe Joey was asleep. Or in the shower... or something. But nothing. Slightly worried and mostly scared she could be with Frank, Gerard texted Mikey, just in case he was with her, 'cos he knew they were closer.

- "At Ray's, 1002"- Mikey texted back and stared at the screen again.

- "Why is there always a sex scene in every horror movie ever?"- Joey asked and kept chewing fun-sized snickers, or like Mikey kept calling them: Frank-sized.

- "I guess it's the guide of who's dying next"- Ray answered and grabbed some candies, too- "If you think about it, half of the fun in horror movies is figuring out who will die."

- "You are right..."

- "And it also helps to set the mood when you are watching a horror movie with a date"- the girl turned to Mikey, and he smiled guiltily- "If she is scared and she hugs you, you win proximity, but when a couple is banging on the screen, you win the chance to start rubbing her and getting the idea of having sex into her head."

- "You are disgusting"- Joey quickly argued and heard a knock on the door- "Please tell me that's a pizza. I would kill for a pizza right now."

- "Damn it, Bug!"- Ray argued as Mikey stood up to get the door- "Now I want pizza too!"

- "Hey dude"- Gerard stared at his brother and took a peek inside the room- "What are you doing?"

- "Watching movies"- the youngest Way walked around and headed back to the bed. Gerard closed the door and followed him, only to feel his heart aching. Joey was cuddled with Ray. His arm was around her. Her head was on his shoulder. Gerard wanted to hit him.

- "Hey... I didn't know you were busy"- Way whispered and stared at the scene. Joey looked at him, and her eyes just lock into his. Gerard didn't stop looking at her either. He felt betrayed. Or worst, he felt maybe their time together wasn't really that special, 'cos she would cuddle with everybody in the band, 'cos they were her friends and she wasn't making a big deal out of it like he was.

- "We are watching horror movies, wanna join us?"- Ray asked and smiled. He immediately noticed what was going on in Gerard's head and realized he would have to talk with his friend. He felt he was too crushed on Joey for his own good.

- "No... I just wanted to..."- Gerard wouldn't stop staring at Joey in Ray's arms. It just hurt too much.

- "Come on"- she whispered and moved from Toro's side- "There is room for one more. Besides, Ray is failing in his poor attempt to make me feel secure."

- "Dude!!"- Ray argued and softly elbowed her.

- "Auch!! You hurt me!!"- Joey exaggerated and rolled in the bed. Gerard smiled, though he was still feeling pretty jealous.

- "I'm gonna get that pizza"- Ray picked up the phone and dialed. Joey tapped on the bed and invited Gerard.

- "We've got Halloween candies"- she said, smiling. The drummer wanted to keep a distance from him, but watching him was making it too hard. He sat next to her and looked at the bag.

- "We ate most of the Snickers, but there are still some m&m's and Life Savers"- she whispered and felt Mikey's arm coming from behind her trying to reach the candies.

- "Bug ate all the good ones"- he argued.

- "Bróðir þegiðu!! (brother, shut up!)"- the girl quickly answered and slapped Mikey's hand coming out of the bag.

- "How many of these have you ate?"- Gerard asked and frowned- "You seemed to be a little sugar-rushed."

- "Maybe... could be... but it's Halloween, Gerard, it's the day I am allowed to do this, you can't judge me, you can only join me."

Joey raised an eyebrow making her best to look sexy. She shouldn't have, but she meant it as a joke. Not really. She just wanted to lie to herself. Just like the night before in the strip club, she wanted him to want her. Gerard grabbed an m&m and opened it. Joey turned to the screen and laid back in the bed to watch the movie. The oldest Way did the same and sat next to Mikey, 'cos it was wiser to stay away from the girl he wanted to make out with.

- "Where's Frank?"- Joey asked after a while

- "Out with James and Worm"- Mikey answered- "Now shut up and let me watch the movie."

- "Sorry"- the girl chuckled and opened another Snicker's bar. She wanted to be away from Gerard. But his body was a magnet too intense to resist.

After Halloween, they watched Bran Stocker's Dracula. Ate pizza and had a relaxed evening. It was all good until Joey decided it was time to go to bed. She yawned and stood up. She had managed to stay between Ray and Mikey the whole time, successfully avoiding being close to Gerard. She was actually proud of herself.

- "Ok kids, I'm going to bed"- she announced and grabbed her shoes, standing up- "It's not time to make a change, just relax, take it easy"- she sang, and Mikey threw her a pillow

- "I hate that song."

- "Me too! But shit is right there everything time I say goodbye. I don't know why my brain makes that fucking connection every fucking single time"

- "I'm going to bed too"- Gerard said, and Ray raised an eyebrow- "It's late, and we have a busy day tomorrow, full of interviews."

- "Yeah, we have to meet at the lobby tomorrow at nine, ready to leave"- Ray announced- "We start with a radio show at ten-thirty."

- "Oh fuck!"- Mikey whined immediately, and Joey grinned.

- "And while you do that, I'll hit the gym and relax"- she said and stuck out her tongue to her friend.

- "Shut up! No one likes a showoff."

- "No one likes a bad loser"- she added and jumped.

- "Ok, Bug, you really need to calm down. You had too much sugar"- Ray laughed, staring at her.

- "Fuck, you are right, I'm not gonna sleep in a long while... maybe I can make a marathon of scary movies... The Exorcist was in the pay-per-view, I'll watch it all alone and fucking traumatize myself" - the girl jumped on her spot and chuckled.

- "Ok, come on, let's go"- Mikey grabbed her arm and started walking to the door- "Bye, Ray."

- "Bye kids"

- "Thanks for taking care of me, dad!"- Joey smiled at him and waved.

- "Anytime you want, kiddo."

Gerard, Mikey, and Joey walked into the elevator. The girl pressed the 13th button and Mikey the 12th.

- "Which one?"- he asked, looking at his older brother.

- "I'm in the 13th too"- he answered with a short smile and avoided looking at Joey, which was pretty good for her, 'cos her cheeks were burning red.

- "Fuck! Fuck! Just say goodnight and lock yourself in your room, just say goodnight, and that's it!"- the elevator's door opened, and the girl smiled at Mikey.

- "Good night, bróðir"

- "Good night, Bug. I'll text you tomorrow"- Gerard smiled at his brother and tapped on his back- "Good night, dude."

- "See you in the morning"- he walked to the hallway with Joey and heard the door closing behind them.

- "I'm going this way"- the girl whispered and hoped Gerard was going the other way

- "Me too"- they walked in silence for a few seconds, it felt awkward, and the two of them knew it- "Joey, listen, I wanted to talk to you about something"- he just said it.

- "This is my room"- she announced, hoping to manage to get away from him.

- "Do you mind if I come in for a second?"- his words surprised him. He didn't think when he asked that. Joey didn't really have a reason to say no. She didn't want to say no. And so she nodded and opened the door.

- "Come in."

Her body shook at the realization they were alone in her room. Completely alone, just the two of them. That had only happened once before, and this time, somehow, it felt dangerous.

- "What is it?"- Joey asked and walked around the room, taking off her shoes and making her best to avoid eye contact.

- "I just... had the feeling you were mad at me over something."

- "Why would you feel that?"- she asked, pretending to be surprised. She wasn't mad at him. She was mad at herself for being such a flirt.

- "'Cos you avoided me the whole day"- he simply answered.

- "That's not true. I've been hungover most of the day, sleeping on the bus."

That was a lie. She watched tv with Mikey the whole trip, though they slept most of the time.

- "It felt like you were mad at me"- he said and kept looking at her, knowing she was avoiding his eyes.

- "You got it all wrong"- she simply answered and smiled, opening her bag and looking for a pajama- "Why would I be mad at you?"

- "I don't know..."- Gerard stayed quiet and walked around the room- "I know we didn't start with the right foot, and sometimes I feel like I'm still walking on eggshells when it comes to you"- he simply confessed. Joey raised his eyes to meet him.

- "Sometimes I feel the same about you. Until we talked about it, I actually felt you were avoiding me after we fell asleep together."

Joey made a pause and regretted landing her eyes on his. There it was, the magnet pushing her closer to him. He stood in front of her, feeling the same.

- "Maybe we are overthinking everything"- he whispered, and Joey nodded

- "Maybe we are."

- "So... friends?"- he reached out his hands to her and bit his lips- "You don't wanna be her friend, you really want to fuck her brains off, and you know it, don't you, Gerard Way?"

- "Friends"- Joey shook his hands and smiled- "I don't know why I've got the feeling this shit will never work out well."

They kept shaking their hands in silence for a while, longer than it should have been. They just stared and smiled at each other, lost in thoughts.

- "So..."- Joey finally whispered- "How are the crowds here in France?"- she asked the most random question ever, just to talk about something.

- "They are wild. It's fun playing here."

- "Great"

- "Never been to France?"

- "Never been to Europe, except Iceland"- Gee smiled and kept looking at her, still standing right in front of each other. He was fighting the urge to touch her. But it was too dangerous. The attraction he felt for her might actually cause him not to be able to stop once he began.

- "Maybe we can push the schedule to show you around, at least the Eiffel Tower"- the girl smiled and nodded.

- "That would be awesome"- and silence again, staring at each other was probably the only thing they couldn't stop doing when together.

- "And... are you gonna watch The Exorcist?"

- "Yeah, I'm not sleepy. Ray was right, I am in a sugar rush... and the worst part is, I still have some candy left, and I'm considering the idea of finishing them today"- Gerard smiled and watched how Joey took another bag of candies from her backpack.

- "Girl! Where did you get so many sweets?!"

- "Gub and I made matching candy bags for Halloween,"- she answered with a big smile- "And Mikey got me some more. I might have an addiction problem."

- "I bet you do"- Gerard stared at her with a smile and asked without thinking of his words- "Would you like some company to watch the movie?"- the girl wide opened her eyes and took a deep breath- "Don't feel pushed or something like that"- Gerard quickly added when he noticed her reaction- "I just... I'm not sleepy, and the idea of eating more candies was pretty tempting"- she giggled nervously and nodded.

- "Sure, let's watch the movie together, but you better be braver than Ray. He kept jumping with every scene.2

Gerard smiled and agreed. The two of them knew it was a bad, terribly dangerous idea. But still, it was what the two of them wanted.

They sat on the bed staring at the screen in silence for a good twenty minutes. They ate candies, they watched the movie, they were behaving great. But Gerard knew it was all bullshit. He needed to move closer and wrap his arms around her. It was totally harmless, though. Just a hug, not kissing, no nothing. Just holding her close, like the other day at the bus, or just like the night before. That had felt too good. He needed more of that.

- "I'm gonna get under the covers"- the girl announced and shivered- "I'm fucking freezing."

- "Sure"- Gerard stood up and moved the blankets, watching her getting under them.

- "Are you cold?"- she asked, and he nodded- "You can come too"- and so he did.

- "I could come, that's a fact"- he mentally slapped himself for thinking that.

- "What the fuck is your problem?! You got him in your bed! Underneath the fucking blankets! Do you have any kind of idea of the signals you are sending him?"- Joey was freaking out as she felt Gerard's warm body next to her- "I just hope he doesn't think I wanna make out with him or whatever... I mean, no, why should he anyway? I can do this with Mikey or with Ray, and I would never worry they could come with that idea... well, that's 'cos they are my friends, and I don't wanna fuck them the way I wanna fuck Gerard. Oh shit, Joey, you are fucking sick. Did you know that?"

Joey covered her face and jumped when a possessed Linda Blair kept stabbing her vagina with a crucifix. Gerard chuckled and felt how she instinctively moved to him and looked for protection. She did it so normally; she didn't even think about it. That part of the movie had always made her jump.

- "Come on"- Gee wrapped an arm around her and fondled her arm sweetly- "It's just a movie."

- "I know, but that's too upsetting to be true"- she covered her eyes again and hid her face on Gerard's neck.

- "It's ok, sugar"- he whispered and landed a small soft peck on her head.

His heart stopped for a second. He called Joey a pet name and kissed her. He hadn't. He shouldn't. He needed to undo it. Joey stayed still and made what anyone under those circumstances would do: she ignored the kiss and the pet name, sat down, and kept watching the movie.

- "I hate pet names, I hate cute nicknames, and yet, that one was heart-melting. Gerard Way fucking called me sugar..."- Joey sighed and made her best to focus on the exorcism taking place on the screen. It was very hard, though, considering all she could think of was Gerard's arm around her.

The movie ended, and neither of them moved. Joey was hoping Gerard was asleep, so he would stay with her the whole night and cuddle. Gerard felt the same. Exactly the same. The girl slowly moved from his chest and looked at him. His perfect nose, his thin lips. It was too tempting to have him there.

He blinked a few times and cut her a short smile. She rubbed her eyes and sighed.

- "Thank you for watching the movie with me Gerard, it was worse than I remembered"- he kept the smile on his lips as he rubbed his hand against his arm, still hugging her.

- "I'm glad I could help."

- "Best friend ever"- she whispered to remind herself she had to keep that distance.

Gerard fake grinned and stared at her. She was so close, he could simply just lean in a little and kiss her. It was so simple. She was right there. She stayed still, her eyes locked in his. She was never going to be his friend, and she knew it. That was an impossible friendship, no matter how much she'd try.

- "I have to sleep"- she whispered, but neither of them moved.

- "Me too"- they just stared at each other in silence. Neither wanted to move, but both knew it had to happen.

- "Thank you for hanging out with me"- Joey added, and Gerard nodded

- "My pleasure"- and pleasure was in Gerard's mind the whole time.

The girl slowly sat down and yawned. Gerard looked at her and smiled, then put on his shoes and stood up.

- "See you tomorrow, Joey."

- "Bye, Gerard."

++

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[internalsealpanic]

Explosive Chemistry

Summary: Chemistry labs can be a bit tedious. Nothing laser vision can’t fix though. 

A/n: You can all blame @birdy-bat-writes​ for this fluff and @knightfall05x​ for the amazing mood board. This might feel a little rushed so apologies and Clark is kind of hard to write (ope). Anyway, here is your regularly scheduled comedy.  Thanks again to @knightfall05x​ for proof reading!

warning: swearing, reader’s terrible moral compass, and some injury

masterlist

You met Clark- Well, ‘met’ might be too formal a word for what happened. 

 You discovered Clark during a mundane Metropolis afternoon. Taking a break from your studies (read: a group project that had not been going smoothly), you hopped on to a trail car to go to your favorite sandwich shop right across from your favorite diner. 

 The sandwich shop itself was nothing too special, not in a good way at least. It was even what your delicately paletted father had politely described as ‘subpar’ which as far as you knew was the worst insult he could give. Frank- the owner- was, of course, inclined to disagree. You were, on the other hand, inclined to agree with the opinion especially after biting into a raw piece of chicken in one of their “famous” chicken sandwiches. But it was cheap and it offered the best view of the diner across the street. 

In truth, you liked the food at the diner better. Their blueberry pancakes were absolutely delightful, at least, on Mondays.  But more than anything you found more delight in watching its contained chaos. You’ve watched people propose, get divorced, have fights, and everything else in between. The sheer absurd theatrics of it all captivated you. It was people-watching at its finest. Frank just thought it was creepy to which you simply nodded and nibbled at your sandwich. 

As you watched the usual ensemble cast in the diner, you witness a tall, handsome guy with black hair and blue eyes get mugged. Ok, well, almost get mugged. He was a big boi so you weren’t entirely surprised when he was easily able to stop the scrawny knife-wielding assailant. What did surprise you were the proceeding events. To your utter disbelief (and amusement); instead of throwing the guy into the gutter as custom dictates, the buff guy just guided his assailant to the diner and had a chat with him. You chew your sandwich slowly as you watch them talk as if nothing strange had occurred minutes before, digesting the odd comedy unfolding before your eyes. 

 Moments later and a few tears shed, they parted ways. You frowned thinking that would be the end of it and you were about to whine to Frank about how anticlimactic that was. But then it just kept going. 

 He got mugged. 

 Again.

 And again. 

 And again.

 By the fourth time, Frank sat beside you to watch finally leaving the spot he was polishing alone. Repeated muggings were weird enough but the guy kept inviting them to talk. You choked every time but made no move to intervene, only nibbling at your sandwich and watching with near clinical interest.

 After the fifth mugging, Frank raised a challenging brow at you as you continued to chew on your sandwich. You shrug at him as if to say ‘I’m eating what do you want me to do?’. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave you even as another mugger approached the buff guy. You cut him a look and chew a little faster. For a guy running what is most likely a money-laundering scheme, he sure was noble. 

 Having finally finished your sandwich, you wave your hand halfheartedly to Frank, your middle finger extended skyward. Kicking the shop door open and jamming your hands into your hoodie pockets, you made your way to the other side of the street ignoring the cars driving past you, blowing and whipping the skirt of your dress every which way. 

 Neither of them pays you any mind as you approach them, which was just as well. You shifted the strap of your backpack on your shoulder deciding whether to use it. Your laptop was in there so probably not. You decide to christen your new flattops by giving the man a good harsh kick in his nether regions. He goes down with a squeak. 

 “Scram!” You snarl, baring your teeth. In a surprisingly well-coordinated motion, he does, looking honestly scared for his life. You pivot to the guy who you assume is some kind of tourist. 

 Most people would say that Clark towered over you but the truth was that no matter how tall Clark was he couldn’t really measure up to the height of you. Nothing about you was inherently intimidating, especially as you stand before him in flat tops, hoodie, and short dress, except maybe for your shoulders. But that had less to do with their actual shape and more to do with how uncommonly broad they were compared to the rest of your body.  Some people say it made you look like an angry dorito to which you unfailingly replied with something Clark would rather not repeat. At least, not in polite company. 

 You regard him with a pinched brow which makes Clark straighten as you openly assess him. You memorize the angles of his features, all the sharpness and corners of it not noticeable due to the softness of the way he carries himself in a typical hometown boy kind of way.  You note your university’s logo on the edge of his sweatshirt.

 You reach your hand out. “Y/n L/n but just call me Y/n”

 “Clark Kent” He answers, shaking your hands. You note the distinct midwestern shape of his syllables which explained a lot.  

 “Yanno muggers aren’t exactly good speed dating partners, right?”

 Clark smiled at the, admittedly, terrible joke. By the way, your eyes flash with interest, he’ll be seeing a lot of you. 

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

 Your foot bounced erratically against the metal bar serving as your stool’s footrest. You watched the thermometer with a pinched face and a ticking brow as the mercury in it remains unmoving. Your mounting frustration amusing Clark making him cover his mouth. You fix him with a look and the door actually whistles “innocently” and looks away, pretending to be intently reading the procedure as if you two haven’t been reading it for the past half hour trying to figure out why your solution wasn’t boiling. His baby blues none-too-subtly flicking in your direction. You give him one last scathing look, which he easily glances off, before turning back to your solution. His eyes have been flickering at you as if he’s been meaning to ask you a question. That question likely being ‘could you possibly stop looking like you’re going to murder the molecules in our solution’. His eyes flicker again to watch you seethe and pout at the liquid and it takes everything in Clark not to tease you about being cute. 

 Bouncing your leg again, you gently turn the hot plate’s nob until the screen reads 1000 F. Clark makes a choked sound, finally tearing his attention away from what you assumed to be a particularly interesting semicolon. Clark reaches over and turns the damned thing back down to 300 F. You glare at him before, violently, turning it back up to 1000. Clark just as quickly turns it back down. 

 Click

 Click

 Click 

 You two continue on like this for a while ‘til your instructor, pinching his nose, strolls over to your lab bench to politely tell you to knock it off. With a shrug, you two settle on 650 F as your compromise. You, however, continue to glower at the solution while Clark peruses through the next lab distinctly reminding you of someone in the waiting room of a dentist’s office which makes you scrunch your nose and worsen the impatient ticking of your limbs. “Glaring at it won’t make it go faster,” Clark chuckled in his Midwestern sweater voice. You had the urge to pour the hot acid of the flask on to him but you suppressed the urge mainly because it wouldn’t actually hurt and pouring it on him meant starting over and that just sounded tragic.   

 You place your hands primly on your lap and spin your chair towards Clark. “Not all of us can watch grass grow, Paul Bunyan.” You snip. Clark shakes his head at you, whether it’s from your tone or the nickname you can’t tell. All you could discern was that it irritated him and some petty part of you was satiated the way old gods were when someone made an acceptable sacrifice. 

 “Is that what you think we do in Kansas?” Your first impulse is to say ‘yes’ even if it wasn’t the truth. You thought better of it though. Picking a fight with Clark Kent was a terrible idea, superstrength or not. You were, of course, familiar with Kansas as a concept the same way you were familiar with Mars. Both seemed equally distant, equally alien, and equally irrelevant as such you never dedicated too much thought to it. The last one might have changed a bit with your chance encounter with Clark. You remember him mentioning going home for Thanksgiving Break. You also distinctly remember wanting to ask if you could come along. After all, you didn’t have much in the way of killing time during holidays seeing as most of your relatives were overseas and the relatives you did have here were indisposed either due to work or due to other families. You felt silly thinking about it now and even sillier contemplating how you would explain the special brand of unpleasantness of being bored over the holidays. Maybe you should get a boyfriend- your eyes flicker to Clark but you shake your head- or a girlfriend or maybe friends who weren’t either foreign exchange students or farm boys from Kansas with laser vision. 

 You whip your head to Clark who was mumbling something about not staring at the grass. He frowns at you, not finishing his sentence.

 “You have that look.”

 “What look?”

 “The bad idea look.”

 “I do not”

 “Ok, let me rephrase. The let’s do something stupid for science look.”

 You huff indignantly. Clark looks unfazed and a little smug. You did not have that kind of look and sue, you’ve asked once or ten times to use his powers to do something ridiculous but this was a matter of importance. 

 “Use your heat vision”

 “Wha-”

 “Heat vision. Flask. Go faster.” You punctuate each word with a wild flick or gesticulation of your hands. 

 Clark moves his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his sharp nose.“We’re not going to use my heat vision-”

 “-Yes, we are.” 

 “No, we aren’t. Do you want me to list the ways this could go wrong?”

 “Relax, my human shield is invincible.”

 “You’re horrible.”

 “Yup.”

 “I really can’t convince you?”

 “Nope.”

 “What if I just don’t?”

 “Then I dip out and break into a different lab to get a bunsen burner.”

 Clark laughs, shaking his head fondness seeping into his smile. It made your heart melt and your face heat. You know you’ve won when Clark moves his seat closer to you. For some reason, Clark always insisted on sitting just a little farther from you no matter the circumstance. 

 You two lean in. Clark gives you a side glance. “For the record, I said this was a bad idea.”

 “Fine, I’ll quote you on that once I’ve won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry.”

 Clark snorts. He removes his glasses, the blue of his eyes shifting to an angry red. It makes your breath hitch every time being reminded just how dangerous your sweet, gentle best friend really is. 

 You watch the liquid in the flask begin to boil and you make a noise of triumph, throwing your arms up in the air in delight. Clark smiles at you and you feel a little embarrassed by your reaction but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear.   You both lean back and you toss him a smug smile. He huffs at you amused and rolls his eyes. 

 “Fine, not all of your ideas are-”

 Crack. 

 Shatter. 

 Shards of glass fly everywhere as the flask shatters. You yelp high and surprised. Clark pulls you into his arms shielding you from the glass and hot acid. You hiss when a shard cuts against the delicate skin of your forehead. You’re numb as you feel the blood trickling staining Clark’s shirt. Your senses were more focused on the way he wraps his arms around you and how safe you feel despite the graze on your forehead. 

 “Y/n, Clark, are you two ok?”

 You hear the frantic footsteps approach you but neither of you pulls away. You just focus on how tightly Clark holds you against himself.  You feel the flex of his large muscles as he pulls you closer. 

 “We’re fine sir but I think Y/n needs to go to the clinic.”

 Do you? 

 Your fingers rise up your forehead and your stomach drops a little when they come away red. You’re aware that you’re bleeding but it takes some time for the knowledge to fully sink in. Your professor is practically shoving you out of the room by the time you even make any move to react. 

 “Y/n, I-”

 “I swear to god if you say I told you so I’ll punch you in the face-” You look into his eyes, your voice amazingly calm. He opens his mouth again. “- and if you say I’m sorry I’ll punch you in the dick.” His mouth closes and you both fall silent even as you go down the hall towards the university’s health office which was just a glorified clinic with the addition of counselors and a waiting room with Rubix cubes instead of magazines. Clark doesn’t loosen his grip on your shoulder even as you wait for the nurse to come out and treat you. 

 Your mind feels far less frantic than it did a few moments ago. 

 “I told you it was a bad idea.” Clark jokes offhandedly.

 You snort at the remark and glare at him without any real venom. “You really aren’t as nice as people say you are.”

 “Nope.”

 “Jackass.”

 This draws a tired laugh from him. “Well, I’m sorry. Why don’t I make it up to you then?”

 “Unless you’ve got a Porsche in your back pocket”

 He winces. You snort again. 

 “How bout coffee?” You blink at him. “Or maybe dinner? This Friday?” He adds with a hopeful lilt. 

 “Just as long as you don’t invite a mugger to come along.”  

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

THANKS FOR READING

taglist:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 4

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Warning(s): Mature (+17), sexual tension, graphic violence and language. Previous Masterlist Next

Word Count: 2.3k words

AN: Surprise bitches! I'm an impatient bastard and couldn't wait anymore. This picture is finally appropriate (speaking of, assume all photos for this series are not created by me unless specifically stated otherwise). 

@nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @mental-bycatch

Something Nice turned out to be a dress Jazmine bought two years ago. A floral print with white petals she was sure a guy like Diego would laugh at. He still hadn't told her what he wanted with her, so she brought a change of shoes depending on the occasion. He got caught up in some work stuff, so the meeting had to wait until the morning. When he texted her the address, she wheezed. When she rolled up into the lobby, she gasped. It screamed elitist big money in every way from the high ceiling to the marble floors. A man who worked for the Jimenez's led her to the elevator, punching in a code for the right floor and stood silent as a statue. A dangerous, beefy, ranch-smelling statue. 

It's impossible to say why she expected anything less than the secure ritzy elevator to open straight into the home like a front door. There were voices in the room that the bodyguard led her away from, taking her up the stairs and planting her square in front of a door at the end of a hall. 

"Stay here." 

Jazmine did not enjoy waiting. She tapped her foot until her leg cramped, she stretched, she tried the door (locked), and she tried to guess what year the paintings on the wall were made. It was probably pay back. When Diego did show his face, he had the audacity to look surprised to see her. 

"What kept you?" 

"Just business," he said smiling. Bastard. "Inside." 

He let her enter first and it wasn't a bedroom like she had anticipated. There were large picture windows on the northwest corner of the room and a grand piano, other furniture suggesting a kind of study like a bookshelf and an armored cash (she knew a weapons locker when she saw one). Diego's hand slotted itself on her waist as he locked the door behind them. 

"Want to take some pictures," he said by way of explanation. 

"What kind of pictures?" 

Diego smiled cryptically. Jazmine did not miss the way he appraised her form, fingering the soft fabric of her dress before backing up. He pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a candid before she could stop him. He turned the screen her way, showing her own face in the amazing lighting and quality. 

"Nice, right? Sit down." 

He waited until she was situated on the piano bench before he took a seat of his own. She watched him set the picture as his home screen and shook her head. "We can do better than that." 

She missed the big, cocky smile he pulled when he said, "what do you have in mind?" 

"A guy like you? With a picture of a clothed woman in your phone? Unlikely." 

Diego hummed playfully. "I don't think your clothes are the problem." 

There was a huge plush bean bag next to the smaller book stand under the window. An odd choice for such high class taste, but it didn't look like this room got much use anyways. Diego plopped down on top of it like he had just come home from a long day at work. He looked up at her from between his legs, and beckoned her with a crooked finger. 

"Right here," he patted the inside of his thigh. Jazmine wasn't sure if he wanted her to sit in his lap or... but then he said, "on your knees," and she fell easily into position. "You look pretty like that. Haven't asked me what the pictures are for yet." 

Jazmine shrugged, picking up his phone and snapping a picture of him for herself. "I've already got ten ideas for how to use these. My back up plans have back up plans, but I usually go with the flow. It's saved my ass this long…" 

He hummed, motioned for the phone. "You trust me?" 

Jazmine tensed up immediately. "Yeah." 

His movements were slow as he reached up for the back of her head. Gently, he pulled her down until her cheek rested against his clothed thigh, her chin practically inches from his zipper. He watched her gulp but she didn't pull away and he let her go free. 

"That's a good one. Come here." He pulled her up into a wet kiss and she melted into it. He licked his way into her mouth and swirled his tongue around her plush lips until he was satisfied with how shiny and swollen they became. Jazmine settled back instantly into position, proper her hands on his thighs for support as she posed. If his pants were loose, the sight would be obscene. As it happened, he tried not to move too much as the space in his pants became too tight. Diego snapped a couple of pictures, frustrated he couldn't get far enough to get the framing right. She watched him lean his head back to get it right and she couldn't help but laugh. 

"Alright, alright. We done?" 

"One more." Oh, the way she crawled up his body should not have felt so good. She sat her plump rump right over the button of his jeans and he bit his lip to stop from groaning. Jazmine sat up on her knees, sinking into the bag and snapping the perfect picture. "There." 

He could tell she was doing something, her fingers flashed over the screen and he resisted the urge to snatch it from her hands. Her eyes lit up as a notification sounded and just as quickly her eyes averted. He saw as he took the phone she had her contact open, sending herself her favorite pictures (the first and the last), and he also saw that Alicia needed him. 

"I gotta go," Jazmine announced as she headed for the door. 

"Don't get lost." She did a double take at the sudden turn in his demeanor. It sounded like a threat. Diego’s verbal threat paled in comparison to the ice cold, regal look a woman gave her on her way out. That was how Jazmine got her first look at Alicia Jimenez. 

~

Bored at work, Jazmine let her mind drift back to the morning. She couldn’t get it out of her head, the way his hands absentmindedly twirled the fabric in her skirt between his fingers when he could have easily done so and felt her up. It was intoxicatingly soft, especially for how cheap it was. She slapped some pants underneath it and wished she’d taken out her earrings before her shift– they itched now but if she put them in her pocket she’d never see them again. 

The flow of customers was that of a leaky drainage pipe. They often rolled in and out without so much as a look at her eyes or her name tag, some even going out of their way not to touch her and to turn their bodies sideways as if her existence offended them. Pricks. 

This last guy was acting extra suspicious. Young man with a hat, sunglasses, and a hood drawn up. He was wearing loose basketball shorts in the middle of winter and had his head on a constant swivel. Definitely going to rob the place. Snatch and runs were commonplace, but they hardly looked like this. He was too old not to know you needed a crew for the best haul. But then that means… 

Fucking kid had a gun on him and he was pointing it in Jazmine's face. The chips he had thrown down on the counter were forgotten in favor of the cash in the register– all the cash. He seemed like he was looking for the thrill rather than the kill, but the way he was waving his piece around, he hadn't had much gun safety training. She wasn't dumb enough to try and correct his form right now. Every second he took his eyes off her to scan the area and the barrel of the gun drifted away from her person, she was able to breathe. He ran out the back door. 

Now came the real worst part. Yeah, almost getting shot over $87 wasn't the worst part– calling her boss was. He didn't like his employee's making reports to the police, they had to go through him. Jazmine knew he was into some shady shit, she never felt curious enough to have a look. She barely even registered how long the grown man had been screaming in her face when she heard the door open. 

"Sir we're temporarily closed--"she started to say until she turned to see Diego standing there. 

"What," Frank huffed, "no we are not closed– sir, take as much time as you need, we'll be with you in just a moment." 

Jazmine rolled her eyes. 'We' really meant 'she'. She didn't know how he expected to make change if we didn't have cash, but then something strange happened. 

"This guy bothering you, baby?" Jazmine did a double take. Diego was leaning dangerously over the counter and had locked eyes with Frank. Her boss actually gulped. Taking control of the situation, Jazmine pulled Frank's ass around the counter. Diego followed closely, mirroring their every step with an uncontrollable itch in his fingers. It was beginning to make her nervous. 

Frank turned to snap at Jazmine, "who the hell is this guy" when he came nose to nose with Diego himself. He looked like a panther baring his teeth, and Jazmine watched his hand disappear behind his back. She snatched his wrist, pushing him back to get between the two men. 

"Don't," she hissed in Diego's face. The cool metal of his gun sent tingles up her fingers. "Just my boyfriend, Frank. I asked him to take me home." 

"OK," Frank still sounded confused. Diego's hand slipped away from the gold plated handle of his gun and Jazmine stepped away to gather her bag and wrestle the vest from her shoulders. "Hold on– I didn't say you could go!" 

"Yes you did," she affirmed with a lie. Diego caught the bag thrown at him with a huff, and she fisted his shirt to push him backwards towards the alley exit. 

"No I didn't!" 

"Sure you did! I'll see you tomorrow." 

She knew Diego was pissed. But so was she. As soon as they were free from prying eyes, Jazmine stupidly punched the drug king in the arm. 

"You need to learn about something called boundaries!," she yelled. "From now on, there's gonna be rules about when and where you show up, and who you're allowed to shoot." 

"Eres loco?!" Diego's hand fisted in the collar of her dress and dragged up to look up at him. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her neck and crowded her into the wall of the building. "You think you can tell me what I can and can't do, little girl? Do you know who the fuck I am?" 

He put the gun down so he could slam her into the wall, harder this time until her eyes spun with stars. "You're fucking nothing, cabrona. Todo nada. Do you know how many drugs go through my organization into this city alone? How much money I make?" Jazmine's eyes screwed shut and she let out a loud and regrettable sound. "Are you really shushing me right now?!" 

Diego was about to put a bullet in her head when her hands flew up in surrender. The blow to the head had rocked her– if he wasn't holding her up, she would have fallen to her knees already. 

"I don't want to know about any of that stuff," she said. "I-I can't, Diego. You can't say shit like that around me." 

The man was at a loss. She truly amazed him with her audacity. He let her go as soon as holding her no longer interested him and she slid onto her butt to catch her breath. One hand clung to her throat and the other came up as if to protect her head from a bullet. He considered it, then put his piece away. Alicia would be furious if their deal with Healy fell through like this. For Porsche. 

Cooler heads prevailed. Diego only helped her stand so she would be easier to get into the car, and they drove in silence the whole way to her apartment. Not once did she look him in the eye or apologize, nor did he take his ferocious stare off of her person. Jazmine sighed in relief when the car finally stopped, but as she was climbing out, Diego caught her by the throat one more time and pulled her ear close. 

"I'm not your fucking boyfriend, Jazmine. We are not friends. Don't forget that, querida." 

~

Healy was waiting for her in her living room. His eyes drifted straight to the red marks rising at her pulse points and the soul crushing exhaustion in her eyes. He offered her a plate of pasta and let her eat in peace for a while. 

"I'm sorry, Jazmine. Really, I am." Healy kept his hands to himself, but he did offer Hercules a treat to keep her busy. "I'll have a talk with los Hermanos Jimenez so you don't have to be on the receiving end of another tantrum like that. The next time you see them, they'll be more careful about what they say around you." 

Tired and beaten, Jazmine merely nodded. 

"Make sure you charge your device. I can't help you if I can't hear you, sweetheart." He left in a moment and for once, she was so glad to be alone. 

[lu-undy]

Chapter 46 - SBT

Here it is!

"Bugger…" 

The lights had switched back on in the dining area for a while now but Mundy's breath was still held, not that he particularly wanted it. But he couldn't help it. 

"You seem to have enjoyed your dessert, Sir." 

"Huh? Sorry?" Mundy blinked repeatedly as if he was emerging from a dream. The waiter chuckled. "Y-yeah, dessert was very good, thanks. I'll uh, I'll go and pay in a minute." 

"You don't need to, Sir."

Mundy raised an eyebrow. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"Your meals here are taken care of, Sir." The waiter took his dessert plate and headed away. 

"Wait, what d'you - ugh…" Mundy half smiled. There was only one person who could have done that for him… 

The Aussie raised his eyes to the stage and smiled to himself as he shook his head. And that small gesture was enough to give him the boost his confidence needed. Mundy picked up his hat and a leaflet from the table before his feet guided him naturally backstage. He walked with a lazy smile on his lips, his eyes didn't see the restaurant, nah, they were just anticipating the sight of the man in the dark blue suit and tie, who had absolutely blown his mind with his vocal chords, about half an hour ago now. 

When he arrived in front of the door, Mundy stopped and looked left and right. No one. Good. There was a shining metal pane on the wall there, Mundy could see his reflection on it. 

"Oh… Uh…" He did his ponytail again, a bit better he hoped, and adjusted his tie. Ok, alright, hopefully he looked half decent now. 

Three knocks. He gave three knocks on the wooden door with the Frenchman's name written on it. 

"Go away!" 

Mundy's smile shattered like glass. He spun on his heels but then he frowned. No, he needed to at least say thanks for the food. He knocked again. 

"Argh! Pour l'amour du ciel, ne peut-on jamais profiter d'un moment de paix?! Frank, I swear, if it is you again about the songs, I will not change my mind!" 

[For the love of God, can't I enjoy a moment of peace?!]

"It's not Frank." Mundy answered. He didn't see Lucien freeze and his eyes darted to the mirror instantly. 

Merde, merde, merde…. He thought as he arranged his hair and face faster than the speed of light itself. 

"Mundy?" 

Lucien's voice was muffled but Mundy understood it very easily. Non, the Frenchman was right behind the door, there was no doubt about it. 

"Y-yeah, it's me." 

Lucien unlocked the door and opened it. 

"Please, do come in." 

Mundy slipped in and Lucien shut the door after checking that no one else had seen him.

"Am I botherin' you? I can come back later or something." Mundy asked, holding his hat in his hands nervously. 

"Non, non, please, take a seat and make yourself at home. You look…" Lucien started but what word should he use? He looked at Mundy and all he saw made his insides warm and fuzzy. The long hair tied back allowed to see Mundy's face better, and even if his eyes were still hidden behind the glasses, Lucien found them more than pleasant. There were a few locks of wavy, dark brown hair that fell on Mundy's face and Lucien resisted the urge to push them back behind his ear. Non, it was too personal, too intimate. The Frenchman's eyes went down and seeing Mundy in that beige, three-piece suit was such a delightful sight to behold… "You look handsome."

"Thanks, mate." Mundy sat on the sofa and Lucien joined him after pouring a second glass of water and handing it to him. 

"So, what brings you here?" Lucien asked as he sat down. 

"I wanted to say thanks."

"What for?"

"I was going to pay for my food and head back home but the waiter told me that it had already been cleared for me. I guess it's you, right?"

Lucien smiled. 

"It might well be."

"Pfff, why did you do that…? Duchemin might realise somethin'." Mundy chuckled. 

"In his mind, we are romantically involved with one another anyway so I don't think him or any of his friends here suspect a thing." Lucien drank some more water. 

"Yeah, well, still… Thanks." 

"My pleasure."

"Also, what's that about?" Mundy handed the leaflet that him and the rest of the customers found on their tables. 

"You call it a leaflet in English, I am told, Bushman…" Lucien played smug and Mundy rolled his eyes with a smile. 

"C'mon, y'know what I mean… That's new. You didn't have those things when you first started, eh?" Mundy said. "I read it. It's got the program of the pieces you guys play and there's an entire page on your song - someone's big headed, but anyway - it's got the lyrics in French, and the translation, it's brilliant!"

Lucien smiled. 

"Glad you appreciate it. I did it because one of my uhm, what did you call them again the other day? Ah, oui, one of my fans wrote to me."

Mundy smiled. 

"Yeah well, you got tons of those, we know, yada, yada, yada…"

"Non, non, non, tsk, tsk, tsk!" Lucien waved his index finger left and right as he shook his head. He still had an arrogant smile on his lips. "Non, this fan, I actually talked to him, Mundy."

The Aussie frowned for an instant.

"You see," Lucien went on. "He told me that he had liked some of my songs so much that he managed to find some cassettes and he listens to them in his leisure time. He also told me that he tried hard to translate them. So I thought to myself that I could perhaps help and offer a translation, so that he doesn't need to."

Mundy's face was red. Lucien was obviously talking about him.

"I hope the leaflet helped." 

"Y-yeah… Thanks… I mean… You didn't have to do that." Mundy said. 

"Non, I didn't have to, but I did it anyway."

"Hm…" Mundy looked into Lucien's eyes and felt his own cheeks burning. "Thanks."

"With pleasure."

"Also, uh, y-you really did a great job tonight." 

"Did you like the song?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah. And it didn't feel like you were the one who sang it, it felt like it was Lulu."

Lucien smiled. 

"I guess it's the tears." Mundy added. "I can't imagine you crying and when you do it, well, I'm gonna sound like an idiot but to me, it's Lulu who's cryin', not you, as if you were two different people still…"

Lucien's grin hid the distress he had spent the past half an hour in and he thanked the Lord high up above that Mundy didn't seem to have noticed his still slightly red eyes from the intense sobs he had gone through.

"I… It does happen." Lucien said. 

"What?"

"I do cry. Occasionally."

"Yeah, I saw you on stage."

"Not on stage." 

"Oh… I guess it's when you think of… her?" Mundy tried to be tactful. 

"Oui and non. Indirectly, I suppose. It is the unfairness of it all and how powerless I am that sometimes makes me so furious that I burst."

"What d'you mean?"

"Why them?" Lucien asked. "Of all the people on Earth, I could name a lot who were more deserving to die. Yet, God called her and our young son back."

"Mate, you're lookin' at it the wrong way. There's no rhyme or reason to life and death. People die of stupid things. You and I could die of stupid things. There's no sense to be found there."

"I know that and yet I cannot help but think that God should have taken me instead of them. I am the oldest of the three, I am not a woman or a child, I committed crimes, murder, cold-blooded assassination, and other sins for which I am sure to spend my next life burning in hell." 

"No-!" Mundy burst out, speaking faster than he had thought. "Shush!" He screwed his eyes shut. "Don't talk about that!"

"Why not? That is all I deserve. I have killed many who were deserving and many who were not, because I was asked to. At any time I could have refused and resigned. But here I am."

"Spook." 

"But that is not all. You see? When I climb on stage and sing, I become someone else, as you have noticed. I become a normal, civil man, someone who doesn't know what killing is, someone who sings sentimentality and romance as if he still knew what they were. Non, the more I think about it, the more I remember your letter and I think you were right. Lulu is a lucky bastard for not knowing the weight and pain that Solitude can bring."

Lucien took a sip of his water and put his glass away. 

"A lucky bastard indeed." He added. 

"But mate, you are him." Mundy answered. "Y-you're the one singin' those songs, you're the one who cries when he sings. I saw you today again. You tried to hold it back but eh… Spook, Lulu is part of you too. Stop thinkin' that you're an emotionless killing robot. You're a normal bloke."

Lucien took a deep breath and sighed. 

"We already had that conversation, Mundy."

"Yeah, but apparently you didn't listen to me. Also, uh… About the song..?"

Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy. 

"You said to me that you didn't like any other sheila than your fiancée but…"

"But what?" 

"You really looked like you… Uh… You had someone in mind when you were singing."

Lucien sighed and looked away. He put a hand on his face and let it sink down from his brow to his chin. 

"Hey… It's good, it's nice if you've found someone, I-I'm happy for you." Mundy said and Lucien shook his head. 

"Think, Bushman!" He burst out at him. "Have I not learnt from my past? Have I not suffered enough from my own stupidity! I do not want to find anyone, I want people to stay as far away as they can from me. I am a curse to live with and deal with! I bring death, despair, frustration and powerlessness! Non! I do not want anyone to come close to me and I do not want to-"

"Have you finished with your dramatic nonsense?!" Mundy barked back. "Some of us here don't have any choice and have to live completely alone, you ungrateful snob!"

Lucien's eyes snapped wide out of surprise. He did not imagine the Aussie could become irritated, he always seemed so calm. 

"You bloody mongrel! The least you can do is appreciate it!"

"Appreciate what?"

"Appreciate the blessin' it is to have someone with you! Pff.. And to think that you told me you knew what solitude was about, you have no idea, do you?! Or maybe you're so deeply in love with that sheila that you actually have forgotten what it is like, eh?" Mundy frowned behind his aviator glasses. "Well let me tell you, you arrogant idiot! Have you forgotten the pain of your past ten years alone?! Besides, for the love of all that is holy, please enjoy it! It's a blessin' to like someone and I'm sure that sheila likes you back so be fuckin' happy because that simply hasn't happened in the last ten years!"

"Mundy, what part of 'there is a contract on my head' do you not understand?!" Lucien's anger escalated. "I am a dead man!"

"No, you're not! You're alive, well, and breathing! You're also talking a lot of nonsense for someone who's dead!"

"It is all AS IF I was dead already! And I had better consider myself so! They are coming for me Mundy, each day that I wake up is just a step taken to MY DEATH!" Lucien exclaimed. 

"Why won't you fuckin' enjoy what you have instead on focusing on the fact that you'll lose it?! Go sing all that to her in person!" Mundy pushed the leaflet against Lucien's chest.

"Because I am going to LOSE IT!" Lucien shoved the crumpled leaflet back to Myndy's chest.

"WELL THEN YOU'D BETTER GO AND ENJOY YOUR TIME WITH HER, YOU FUCKING UNGRATEFUL MONGREL!" 

Mundy stood off of the sofa and left the backstage room, slamming the door shut after him. He went straight to his van and drove away, fuming with rage. 

"Merde…" Lucien cursed and sighed. But there was no time to lose. Duchemin wanted to have dinner with him so he had to oblige. 

-- A week later -- 

Mundy was next to the lake as usual. Hunting had been tricky that day but he managed to return to his van with a pheasant. He sat down next to the fire he had made and started cleaning the beast before cooking it. 

He hummed to himself, tried to fill the silence around him with songs. But each time he did, his mind and his mouth would play something that Lucien had sung.

"No."

He stopped and tried something else. Damn it, that was still one of Lucien's songs. 

"No, c'mon…" 

Mundy was plucking the bird's feathers and he tried again. 

"Hm…? Hmmm, da da da, la Solitude… No, fucking hell!"

He sighed and looked up from the colourful feathers between his hands to the silver lake in front of him. 

Mundy sighed and decided to continue in silence. Birds were chirping, the lake's shy waves were rolling on the shore, not too far from him. All of that would occupy the silence, as it used to before Mundy met Lucien.

"Bloody hell!"

Did everything he thought about had to loop back to the fucking posh French snob?! 

Once he finished with the feathers, Mundy gutted the bird and cut it neatly into its different parts before washing it and throwing it on the pan, above the flames. He let it grill and sat back on his chair. While the meat cooked, he pulled his hat down on his face and closed his eyes. He could do with a nap.

"So you do love a sheila, eh?"

"Bushman, look at me. Did you seriously think that a man like me could stay alone and single for long?"

Mundy stared at Lucien. No, of course Lucien couldn't stay single. The man was receiving heaps of letters from sheilas who would no doubt leave everything for him if he did as much as ask… Fuck him, he was irresistible… Mundy sighed. 

"Whatever." He grumbled as an answer. 

"Well then, I shall go and enjoy my day and my night with her."

"Yeah, alright." Mundy lowered his head. What was he thinking anyway? Of course Lucien wouldn't look at him any other way than a colleague, at best!

"Mundy?" 

"What?"

Lucien raised his hand and splayed it on Mundy's chest. The Aussie's heart beat violently against it. 

"Oh…? What have we here…?" Lucien pushed his hand against Mundy's chest and the Aussie felt his heart want to rip out of his ribcage more and more. Each beat made him come closer to bursting out until… 

"ARGH?!" 

Mundy woke up in a frightened startle and put his hands on his chest. His heart was there, his heart was there, oof, no problem, everything's fine.

"Gosh…"

He took a few seconds to wake up completely and put a hand on his hat to adjust it when he realised that his hat had gone. 

"What the…?" 

He could swear he had it on his head before he took a nap. 

Pop.

The hat landed back on his head and Mundy looked up. 

"What the fuck are you doin' here again?!" 

Lucien was standing behind his chair. 

"I put a few of those feathers to good use with your hat." He answered. 

"What-?!" Mundy took off his headgear and took a look. On the side of it were two beautifully coloured feathers. 

"It brightens up your hat without changing it too much." Lucien added. 

"What d'you want?" Mundy cut to the chase. 

"To hold a promise. But maybe we can discuss this around a good pheasant leg?" Lucien added and took a seat on the other chair that he must have stolen from inside Mundy's van again. 

"Hm." 

Lucien removed his gloves and both started eating. 

"So, what's your promise about?" Mundy asked. 

"I promised I would keep the lies to a strict minimum, didn't I?"

"Yeah, and?"

"You were right. I had someone in mind when I sang Hymne À L'Amour last week."

Mundy's hunger made him focus more on his food than what Lucien was saying.

"But you were wrong." The Frenchman continued. "It is not a woman. It is a man."

Mundy stopped chewing and raised his eyes from the leg he was eating to Lucien's eyes. 

"Hm." He threw the bones away and took another part to eat. 

"I realised that you might have been under the impression that it was for a woman that I sang all that. But non. It is one special man that my heart has decided to claw onto, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Mundy repeated. 

"Oui. You know why it is useless of me to try and achieve anything with him." Lucien continued. 

"Can he like blokes?" 

"As a matter of fact, oui, he can."

"Then go for it." Mundy said and Lucien chuckled. 

"Go for what exactly, hm?" 

"Go and tell him you fancy him. Invite him to dinner or something. I don't know. J-just do something."

"That leads me to my second point."

The Aussie froze thinking that Lucien would then invite him to dinner. His eyes snapped wide and his breath cut, while his teeth were still sinking in a bit of pheasant. 

"I need to make something clear to you." Lucien went on. "Because I can see it in the way that you look at me. Since we argued the other day, your eyes don't see me the same way they used to."

Mundy's shoulders sank. Oof, and he had thought that Lucien was going to invite him for dinner… Silly Mundy… But the spy was right. He looked at Lucien less warmly now that he knew that his heart was busy with someone else. There was bitterness, and Mundy tried his best to hide the heartbreak of it. No point in admiring the Frenchman anymore, it would just hurt. At least when Lucien's heart was free, Mundy could maintain the illusion that maybe, maybe, he could slip through the tight cracks of his stone cold heart. But now it was useless. Lucien liked someone else and that had made him forget one of the things that made Mundy connect to him deeply: the solitude.

"I have to break another lie to you and please do not beat me up for it this time."

"Go ahead. No promises."

"I intend to offer myself to Duchemin's goons after we kill him."

Mundy's bit of food slid between his hands and fell to the dusty desert ground. 

"What?" 

"I will ask you to keep Perle and take care of her while I distract them."

"What d'you mean, you distract them?"

"I will give them a long, even though easy, chase at the end of which I will die in any fashion that will satiate their thirst for revenge. That way, they will not come after you, and Perle still has someone who will take care of her. Admittedly, you are more knowledgeable about her kind than me, she might be the one for whom it would be the best deal."

"What the hell have you been drinking, you idiotic, absolutely retarded mongrel?"

"Bushman, I am sorry to have lied to you again but I will repeat myself. If anyone has to die at the end of all this, it is me."

"You made me promise to survive it…!"

"Oui, for yourself and for Perle. You have never done anything wrong in your life. You have never lied, never hurt and never killed. Let death make sense for once, let her take someone who has done so many things wrong that it is useless to try and make something right. Please."

Mundy stood up and went to the lake where he washed his hands with the little bar of soap that sat on one of the rocks next to him. 

"So, do we have a deal?" Lucien asked. 

Mundy came back to him and the Frenchman stood up, offering his hand to shake. The Aussie stared at it. 

"Bushman?" 

Violently, Mundy took Lucien by his collar and lifted him up. 

"Bushman?! What are you doing?! This shirt costs more than-!"

"SHUT UP you egotistical, selfish piece of garbage!" Mundy threw him on the ground. 

"Argh-?!" Lucien's back hit the hard and dry desert ground painfully. "Why do you say that?! Have you not heard me?! I am doing this for you and for Perle!" 

Mundy straddled Lucien's body and his punch flew to his jaw. 

"Shut up! You don't do it for me or for her, you compulsive liar! You do it for yourself!" 

"Non!" Lucien punched Mundy's jaw back and pushed the Aussie away from him. 

Both took a moment to stand back up. 

"Why do you not believe me?!" Lucien asked.

"Excuse me?! Are you asking me why I don't believe any word you say?! Well turns out that not many of them mean anything, you lyin' snake!" 

They leapt at each other and exchanged punches and kicks again. They grunted and winced, the pain pulsating from their faces, their chests, their arms, their knuckles, everywhere. Mundy's hat had been thrown away, same for his glasses and their clothes had streaks of their bloods, mixed together. Mundy's nose was bleeding impressively and Lucien's stomach ache soon started to incapacitate him. 

"Tell me one thing, one only thing that was true in anything you've told me so far." Mundy raised his index finger.

Lucien had wrapped an arm around himself, holding his painful stomach. His hair was dishevelled now and one of his eyes was particularly stinging. He closed it. 

"I love a man… He doesn't know it… But… Argh-!" Lucien bent down. His stomach and ribs burnt with pain. "He is the reason I can fall asleep at night… If I don't think about him, I cannot…. I cannot sleep…" 

Mundy sighed and stopped fighting. He walked to the lake and entered it fully clothed. 

"What the…?" Lucien opened his one functioning eye wide. "What are you doing, imbécile?"

"Like you, idiot! I try to drown my problems in my bathtub!" Mundy shouted from a distance. 

Lucien grumbled and took a few steps towards the lake. He removed his shoes and wanted to remove his socks but bending down further was incredibly painful. 

"Merde, Bushman…" He looked at his own self and deemed the clothes good to be thrown away. No washing machine would fix the tears and the blood stains. "Merde…"

[Shit…]

Lucien walked to the shore and winced in disgust when the water hit his socks. He looked down and grimaced. Ew, now nothing and no one will ever fix anything. There was no turning around. He looked up and saw Mundy floating on his back. 

"Putain de merde, Bushman. Tu me le paieras cher."

[Fucking hell, Bushman. You will have to pay for all this.]

Lucien walked further. The level of the water rose from his ankles to his legs, now his knees and thighs. The lake wasn't cold at all. It would have been very pleasant in other circumstances. Lucien kept on walking until the water level was to his neck. Then, he started swimming. 

"Argh, umph, gnh-!"

"What the hell are you gruntin' about?" Mundy was as relaxed as he could be, floating like a plank on the surface of the water, his wet polo shirt and trousers sticking to his skin. 

"I am trying to make sure you don't stray too far away - argh - Bushman… But you have hit me pretty badly and now everything hurts terribly…" 

"Oops." Mundy answered, not apologising one bit. 

Lucien grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer to the shore, where he could actually stand up. 

"Why're you doing that?" Mundy asked. 

"I don't want to fish you out the same way you did me." Lucien answered. He stood up and the water level was to his arms. 

"Don't worry, my bathtub's large enough for us both to swim in it… C'mon, lay on yer back and relax."

"Quoi?"

[What?]

Lucien was completely baffled. 

"Don't make me do it for you, idiot. Lay on yer back."

"Ugh…" Lucien sighed and bent backwards slowly. He then raised his legs and now the lake carried him like it did Mundy.

"There, now, gimme your arm."

"What?"

Mundy didn't wait and grabbed Lucien's arm firmly and laced his own around it. 

"What are you doing?!" Lucien asked. 

"Like the otters do it."

"Bushman, nothing you are saying makes any shred of sense."

"Nothin' you do makes any bloody sense! Now, shut up and listen to me. When otters sleep, they lay on their backs on rivers like that and to make sure they don't drift far apart during their sleep, they hold their arms together."

"Ah, I see." 

Lucien and Mundy both stared at the immense blue sky punctuated by a few cotton streaks of clouds. They both remained mute for a long while. A bird would sometimes fly above them, or a fish would disturb the otherwise calm surface of the water. Apart from that, nothing but their own breaths and their own thoughts as both drifted away on the lake, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right…

Mundy closed his eyes and as he started drifting away in a nap, he felt Lucien's arm move from his. He snapped his eyes wide but before he could do or say anything, he felt the Frenchman's hand slide along his forearm and finally settle when he slipped his fingers between Mundy's. The Aussie frowned. Why would he do that if he liked another bloke…? 

"I cannot stand who I am." Lucien broke the silence.

"That makes us two. Can't stand you either." 

"If I were to meet me and get to know me, I would hate me. There isn't the shadow of a doubt about this."

"Can see why." 

"Everytime I look into what I am and what I have done, I don't see much to be proud of, and even less to share with someone else." Lucien said. 

Mundy's eyes moved to the right, where Lucien was floating, next to him. 

"Why are you doin' this?" He asked and squeezed Lucien's fingers once, gently. He wanted to ask why he was holding his hand, when clearly he had someone else in mind and in his heart. 

"Because despite everything I say, despite my brain thinking that it is useless to chase my feelings, it is still my heart who wins." 

"I'm surprised you got one of those, eh, a heart, you say? I thought you only used your rock stubborn, big head." Mundy teased. 

"That is what I have done for a long time. But you broke that, and many other things." Lucien answered. 

"Sorry… I guess…? Did I break your nose?"

"Non."

"What are you talking about then? I have no idea."

"And it is better that way." 

"Why?" Mundy asked.

"Because… Because!" Lucien removed his hand off Mundy's and started swimming back to the shore. They had drifted quite far from where they had entered the lake first. 

Mundy swam after him and when they could both stand up and reach the bottom of the lake, they did. 

"Hold on." Mundy grabbed Lucien's arm again. 

"What? Do otters come out of the water together too?" Lucien asked sarcastically. 

"No, you muppet." Mundy went to grab the bar of soap and came back. "Here. Scrub yourself, you're covered in half dried, half still runnin' blood." Mundy tossed the soap over to Lucien who caught it effortlessly. 

"Ha! Thanks to whom?, Might I ask, hm?" 

"Shut up and do it, or give me back the soap and I'll start." 

Mundy yanked his wet polo shirt up and away and threw it on to the nearby rocks. He then removed his trousers and did the same. When he raised his eyes to Lucien, the Frenchman's eyes were glued to him and he looked ridiculous with his shirt sticking to him and his tie completely drenched. 

"What? You've seen me before, you pervert."

"Mundy! I am no pervert! I couldn't see a thing, it was the middle of the night! All I could see was the outline of your silhouette!" Lucien's cheeks had got some colour and Mundy chuckled because of it. The Frenchman looked and sounded offended. 

"C'mon, clothes, out! And start cleaning yourself. You're so dirty you might as well get clean by tomorrow if you start now…" 

Lucien crossed his arms on his chest. His salt and pepper hair was all wet and stuck to his face not in a way that put him in his advantage… But God was he funny, pouting like that with his face flushed red.

"C'mon, Spook! Or are you so posh that you snobs don't wash your skin directly but wash with your clothes on?"

"Hm…" Lucien grumbled and threw the soap over to Mundy who started washing himself. "Let me tell you that you will have to pay for this damaged suit. It cost me a fortune!" Lucien undid his tie and threw it away, before he opened the buttons of his shirt. "This is no ordinary suit that you can find in any odd shop! I hope you do realise that, Bushman!" The white - and red because of the blood - shirt flew away and Lucien removed his trousers. 

"What the hell are those?!" Mundy pointed at Lucien's legs. 

"Those are the garters you have now ruined because you decided that you were an otter today!" Lucien answered and Mundy burst out laughing. The Aussie had covered himself with the white foam of the soap and Lucien threw away socks and garters. Now both were in their underwear. 

"Spook?"

"What now?" 

"Do I have blood still on my face?" Mundy asked and Lucien walked closer to him. He squinted at his face that he rinsed slowly. The Aussie hissed. 

"Spook, that hurt!" Mundy closed his eyes.

"Don't move so much! I am trying to see!" Lucien rinsed his hands and let his fingers run softly on Mundy's face, looking up to him until the Aussie opened his eyes. The soft fingers on Mundy's face made him melt and his guts went to mush. How could a bloke have hands as delicate as a sheila? 

Their faces were a few inches apart and both now blushed beyond their ears. "There is blood still below your nose." Lucien said and took a step away. He took the soap off of Mundy's hand and turned his back to him to start cleaning himself. 

"And now?" Mundy asked. 

"One minute." Lucien answered as he washed his face. He carded his hair back and turned to Mundy. "Oui, that is better. Oh, let me see here… Oui, you have some blood on your cheek here, let me help…" 

Lucien cupped some water in his hand and washed it away. 

"There, that is better. Your face is clean now. What about mine?" 

Mundy had looked away from the Frenchman until then but as his eyes moved to his face, he blushed more and more. 

"Uh, I mean, it looks ok, you face, uh, ah, actually, you've got some blood above your mouth still." Mundy squinted and Lucien's heart jolted in his ribcage as the man was staring right at his lips. "Looks dried out a bit but you should be able to wash it away."

"Fine… Many thanks…" Lucien washed his mouth repeatedly and turned to Mundy again. "What about now?" 

"Yeah, yup, no blood, no, your face's fine, yeah, very fine, ok… I'll uh… I'll grab some towels…" 

Mundy went off of the water and into his van. He came out again and found Lucien shivering, his arms wrapped around himself. He was sitting on a rock at the edge of the lake and was watching the calm ripples at the surface of the water.

"Here…" Mundy wrapped the towel around Lucien and wiped behind his neck and shoulders. 

"Oh… Merci… I was starting to get cold." 

"No worries." Mundy sat next to him. 

"You don't wipe yourself?" Lucien asked. 

"Nah. I uh… I like to dry like that y'know… uh…"

"Mundy…?"

"What?" 

Lucien took his towel and covered both of them. 

"You are right, I am a compulsive liar. But that makes me good at telling when people lie. Do not offer me this poor show again, please." 

"I tried my best, eh, sorry…" 

"It is fine." Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder. 

"Uh… Mate… Y-you shouldn't…" The Aussie moved away from Lucien and the Frenchman's heart sunk to his feet. "You told me you had someone. D-don't do that to them." 

[lesetoilesfous]

For DADW, #24 or #39 for the dialogue prompt list for Kanders?

Ok you correctly hit my Specific Angst Buttons so thank you for that, anon, this prompt was basically irresistible

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Anders/Karl Thekla

Characters: Anders, Karl Thekla

Tags: pre-canon, the Circle is a nightmare, reference to ongoing abuse, frank discussion of sexual abuse, coercive power dynamics, basically templars bad

Rating: Mature

“We need to talk about what happened last night.” Karl is trying, hard, to keep his voice level. He’s not really sure he’s succeeding. In the dark, Anders’ eyes are bright and gold as a cat’s, blinking at him from the shadows of the bookshelf. This particular section of the library has been their preferred meeting point for the past month - a place where the shelves are built in such a way as to create a nook - with only one opening through which they might be seen. Slices of moonlight skate through the narrow, high openings above the bricked up windows, barely breathing light across the dusty wood and old books. The shivering blanket of magic that permeates the Circle prickles over their skin like electricity. 

Anders huffs, and puffs a strand of hair out of his face as he does so. His skin is white as bone in the dark. All of them are paler than they should be, but where Karl’s skin has faded to a lighter brown, Anders is almost ghostly. Karl misses the freckles that used to skate up his arms and across his cheeks, when they were still allowed to go outside. He can barely see them now, and certainly not in the dark.

“What’s there to talk about? I fixed it, didn’t I?” Anders’ voice is deliberately irreverent, in a way Karl has long since learned means that he has no intention of being anything other than stubbornly defensive. 

The sound of metal footsteps on stone echoes through the library as Rufus takes his patrol. Both of them tense, careful to maintain a distance between them even as they wait for the echoing scrape of steel on stone to fade away. 

Karl looks at Anders, preparing to argue with him, when a movement catches his eye. He doesn’t think when he lifts a hand to Anders’ warm cheek, testing his hypothesis. “You’re trembling.” Karl says the words as softly as he can, and Anders’ jaw tightens as he pulls away from him.

“It’s cold. Look, are we doing this or what? I’ve got a Creation exam in the morning and you know Wynne’ll bite my head off if I fail it again.”

Karl doesn’t mention the fact that the library is the same dull, tepid temperature at which the entirety of the Circle is always kept - enchanted into a lukewarm stasis. He also doesn’t point out that Anders’ body, pressed so close to his, is as warm as it ever is: all but blazing heat and signalling to any mage with an ounce of sense what his natural school was, despite his remarkable aptitude for spirit healing.

Instead, Karl steps back when Anders steps forward, back bumping into the bookshelf as he does so. Very gently, Karl catches Anders’ hands. “Anders, I’m not...I don’t want to use you.”

In the grey shadows of the library, Karl barely sees the way Anders’ eyes tighten, even as he jerks his hands back and tucks his hair behind his ear with a quick, impatient movement. “Why not? Everyone else does.”

Karl recoils, trying to ignore the sudden ache of hurt that cuts open in his chest at that. He takes a moment to breathe, and taste the musty smell of old paper and the closer salt and sweat and seemingly perpetual elfroot taste of Anders. When he speaks, he does so calmly. “I told you before. I don’t want to be like them.”

Anders falters, then, and moves forward, lifting one long hand to Karl’s cheek. His eyes are serious when he meets his gaze. “You’re not.”

The sound of a door breaking open in a crash of wood and metal makes both of them jump, stiffening as it’s followed by a bellowing roar that starts human and ends...less so. Both Anders and Karl flinch at the weird, inverted tug on the Fade of templar magic, and the ringing crash of metal. For what feels like forever, Karl stands with Anders’ hand on his cheek and wonders which of the enchanters the templars are killing this week. He wonders if it’s Uldred. 

Finally, the noise stops. From outside the library, Karl can feel the prickling, weak pull on the Fade of frightened apprentices, tugging like the claws of kittens caught in loose fabric. Slowly, systematically, both he and Anders relax. 

Karl speaks first. “Maybe...tonight isn’t -”

“No!” Anders speaks too quickly, and his voice echoes. For a moment both of them stand still, waiting for the sound to fade, and then waiting longer, to see if anyone had heard it. At the absence of the sound of metal on stone, Anders lowers his hand to clutch at the fabric of Karl’s sleeve. He lowers his eyes, too, staring down at their feet instead of meeting Karl’s gaze. “Please. I need...”

Anders stops and swallows. Karl moves closer to him, resting one hand on his shoulder. “What do you need?”

Anders shakes his head and closes the distance between them, bending to press his head against Karl’s chest. Carefully, Karl holds him, conscious as he always is of how easily his own farmer’s arms dwarf Anders’ body. They’d both been raised in the countryside, but where Anders had shot up like a beansprout and more than once suffered restricted meals, Karl had been the apparent image of good behaviour, and had broadened as he’d grown. When Anders speaks, his voice is muffled against Karl’s chest. “It feels different with you. Better. Good. I just...I want to feel good.”

Karl’s arms tighten around Anders’ back, and he forces himself to ask the question he’s been avoiding. “Did they -?”

Anders doesn’t let him finish, pulling back and shaking his head with a soft whisper of fabric. “They didn’t hurt me.” He smiles, and it’s bright and bitter in the dark. “I’m the tower whore, remember? I’ll fuck anyone.” The smile falls, and he looks away. “Even templars.” As quickly as the melancholy had descended, it’s gone,and Anders shrugs again, grinning. “The main thing is that we’ve still got those explosives.” His smile grows crooked. “Though the less you know about that, the better.”

Karl resists the urge to chastise him. It’s nights like these when he finds himself counting down the days until Anders’ next escape, and the brief blessed relief he could enjoy on the days he went uncaptured - imagining him outside of these walls, in the sunshine, away from the templars and their grasping hands. 

“So! Shall we get on with it?” Karl knows Anders well enough, by now, to hear the tremor in his voice. But even as he speaks he moves forward, and his hand falls between Karl’s legs, warm and deft as he ever is. Karl’s stomach flips, and he carefully catches Anders wrist, pushing him back and away. He tries not to panic at the sudden hurt in his eyes.

“I have a better idea.”

*

“This is stupid.” Anders says, but doesn’t move from where he’s sat curled against Karl’s chest, breathing gently, tucked beneath an old rough canvas cloth, usually used for the store rooms tucked behind the library bookshelves.

Karl hums, and runs his hand in slow, soothing circles over Anders’ back. Anders shifts, and looks up at him, and his hair tickles the base of Karl’s throat.

“I don’t get you, Thekla.” 

Karl grins a little at him, raising an eyebrow. “No?”

Anders turns a little more, tucking himself against Karl’s legs, folded awkwardly into his body on the stone floor. “No. You want to fuck me, right?”

Karl hesitates, and tries to ignore the way Anders’ eyes are burning into him, as if at any moment he’ll see what’s been puzzling him and finally tire of him, as Karl cannot help but fear he inevitably will. Carefully, he replies, “Sometimes.”

Anders frowns, and impatiently pushes his hair back behind his ear. It needs a cut, but he insists on wearing it long. Karl is glad of it, despite the impracticality. Anders has very lovely hair. “But you l-,” Anders catches himself, “you like me, don’t you?”

Karl sits up a little, trying to get a better look at Anders’ expression. “Of course.”

“So, why are we...cuddling on the floor instead of fucking like nugs the way the Maker intended?” Anders’ words come out in a rush, and Karl thinks he’d almost find them funny if the memory of how easily Anders had offered himself to the new recruits who’d caught them messing with force magic was not so fresh in his mind. If the memory of how easily the recruits had agreed, and let Karl go, wasn’t fresher. Instead, bile kicks into the back of his throat, and he carefully disentangles himself from Anders, putting some distance between them and trying to ignore the sudden chill. 

“Anders.”

“Karl.” Anders repeats, mocking, before he can continue. Karl feels a giddy, stupid rush of relief at that. An Anders who could tease him was not an Anders who trembled when he heard the templars coming. 

With an effort, Karl gathers his thoughts. “I do care about you. You’re,” Karl stops, and feels for a moment the deep and burning hatred that sits somewhere in his chest at how thoroughly the Circle has stolen even this from him as his tongue stumbles over the words, “You’re...very special to me.” I love you. You’re the love of my life. I would die for you and kill for you and instead I cannot even say I love you.

Karl’s fingers curl into a loose fist, and Anders sits forward, absently reaching out and taking his hand. Karl lets him, and feels himself begin to relax as Anders plays with his fingers, waiting for him to continue. After a moment, Karl does, staring at the rectangle of moonlight stamped by the distant window onto the stone between them like a bar of silver. 

“But that’s not dependent on sex. If we never had sex again, I wouldn’t...care for you any less. It’s not, necessary to me and honestly the idea that this is something you -” Karl stops, again, and wishes vehemently for even an ounce of Anders’ laughing eloquence as he tries to lift his leaden tongue. “I don’t want to use you. I don’t want you to feel...obligated to me, or like you owe me some kind of service. You don’t owe me your body, Anders. You don’t owe anyone that. “ 

Anders has stopped playing with his hand, and is staring down at their fingers with a fixed, still, glassy-eyed expression that Karl cannot read. He feels a sense of urgency building in him as he finishes, turning his hand to squeeze Anders’ tightly. “Lying with you is a gift and a privilege if and when you choose to share it, and you can always, always rescind that invitation. I don’t...it’s not appealing to me to do this unless you want it too. Not because you think I want it.” 

Karl stops, and pushes a hand up through his hair, trying to ignore the burning in his cheeks and up the back of his neck as he finishes, a little awkwardly. “I only want this if you want me too.”

For a long, terrible moment Anders is quiet. When he speaks, his voice is rough and low. “I don’t know what I want.” He blinks, and his eyes glitter like gold in deep water in the shadows. “They...tell me - my body - I’m.” Anders stops, then, and clenches his teeth, pursing his lips and taking a quick, deep breath through his nose. His hand tightens around Karl’s, squeezing so hard it’s almost painful. Karl doesn’t pull away. “But it doesn’t feel good.”

Karl tries very hard to control the sudden thrum of his magic, stretching out across the air of the library like a hand on the skin of a drum. Anders tilts his head at him, feeling the familiar pull on the Fade, and Karl shakes his head, forcing himself to let the feeling go. Then he sits forward, and takes Anders’ other hand.

“That’s ok. We’ve not got much, but we do at least have time.” He tilts his head, and smiles, and Anders snorts. Karl thinks, for one childish, wistful moment, that he wouldn’t mind living a life without the sun if it meant he got to grow old with him.

“So...” Anders voice is low, but it still feels dangerously loud in the quiet. “Now what?”

Karl shrugs, and it pulls at their joined hands. “How did you feel about cuddling?”

Anders is quiet for a moment, his thumb running over the back of Karl’s hand. “It...I liked it, I think. They don’t normally -” He stops himself. “I’m not used to it.”

Karl tries, again, to push away his anger, and leans backward - not so much pulling Anders as inviting him to move if he wants to. After a moment, Anders comes, shy as a beaten cat. Karl tries not to think too much about the accuracy of the image. 

Slowly, carefully, they lie down on the stone floor, and Karl pulls the canvas back up over their bodies. They’ll have to move, soon. They certainly can’t be discovered here by morning. 

But, gingerly, Anders rests his head on Karl’s arm and presses his hand against his chest, over his heart. Slowly, his breathing evens, and the space between them grows warm with their shared breath. Karl watches as Anders hesitantly shuts his eyes and presses closer, fingers curling in the fabric of his robe, like a child. Karl supposes Wynne would say that they were, with him at eighteen summers and Anders at sixteen. They hadn’t even been Harrowed yet.

But that’s a nightmare for another day.

For now, Karl curls his other arm around Anders’ body and holds him close, and runs his hand gently through his hair.

[convivialcamera]

On Deadline: Stringers

Previously

“I was stringing in North Africa about a year ago. Me and Joe — have I told you about Joe? He’s my friend from college — we went over on a month-long trip, and then we got contracted by Reuters to hit up the coup in Libya.”

I was sitting upright on the bed, my back against the metal bars of the headboard, and wrapped up against the chill of the room in Jamie’s button-up shirt.

“So there were five of us in the group, me and Joe were the photogs, Sam and José were the reporters, although Sam was stringing for AP, and Firouz, our fixer and translator. We were in Ajdabiya, it’s in the northeast, almost by the Mediterranean coast, but anyways, it was a hotspot for anti-government protests and rebels. We’d been there for a few days, and we could tell the fighting was about to begin — loyalists were nearing the gate to the city, so that’s where we went.”

Jamie snorted. “I’ve noticed that when shit’s about to go down, you head straight for it.”

“It’s my job.”

Jamie was laying out on his side next to me, propped up by his elbow. He was so close that I could feel the heat of his skin and the electricity that still sparked between us, but we didn’t touch.

“I was worried the city would be surrounded and we’d be stuck. All things being equal, being trapped in a war zone is significantly more risky than not.”

“Was that why you headed for the gate?”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Before we got to the fighting, we ran into a checkpoint. We were arguing about if we should turn around, but we couldn’t decide, and, well, they were government troops.”

I heaved a sigh, remembering the fear of the moment when we realized what we had driven straight into.

“Was that bad?” Jamie asked.

“It wasn’t good,” I said sarcastically. He grimaced. “The soldiers dragged us out of the car — they used my camera bag to pull me out. We were all screaming ‘Journalists! Journalists!’ like it mattered. Then, right then, a group of rebels attacked us. There were bullets flying, and I tried to get down, but one of the soldiers made me drop all my gear and run. We made it behind this small house and the soldiers, just, like, lost it. They pointed their guns at us, and started shouting at us, accusing us of being spies, of being in with the rebels. They made all of us lie on our stomachs, and pulled the strings from my shoes and tied my feet together.

“We thought we were going to die. I was staring down one of the soldiers who was off to the side. I don’t speak much Arabic, but we all knew exactly what they were saying. Finally, one guy said, ‘Shoot them.’”

Jamie’s face went white, and he swallowed hard.

“Obviously they didn’t shoot us,” I said. “Another one of them said we were Americans and they couldn’t shoot us. So they tied up our arms and blindfolded us. I was carried to the back of a truck, and the guy punched me in the face.” I ran my fingers over my right cheekbone, remembering the impact. “But the hit dislodged the blindfold, just a little. Joe was next to me, and I could see blood running down his face. And when we were driving away, I saw a someone on the ground by the car, I think. We think it was Firouz. His body was never recovered.”

I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I shut them hard to keep them back. I felt the warmth of Jamie’s hand on my knee, safe, comforting.

“We were held for a week. It was so very very violent; I mean, beyond words. The groping started immediately — almost every soldier who put his hands on me also grabbed at my butt or my breasts. The first thing I said to Joe in the truck was that I didn’t want to get raped. I pleaded with all of them, and cried. They also beat the shit out of us, so crying wasn’t hard. I tried to make myself look weak, so that they would feel bad and stop.”

“Did it work?” Jamie asked.

“Sometimes. What worked the best was telling them I had a husband, and pleading for his sake. Do you have any idea how fucking infuriating it is to have to beg to not get assaulted on behalf of a man who was screwing at least two of his students and a research librarian on the side?” A wave of rage washed over me, and I felt my skin heat and my cheeks flush. “Those fucks cared more about that man’s ownership rights than they did about me. I wasn’t a human being to them. I was tits and an ass and a cunt.”

“But they didn’t…”

“No, they didn’t. One soldier held me on his lap, and touched me all over, and told me how he was going to kill me. One night we went through a bunch of checkpoints, and each time the soldiers paraded us out, like trophies of war. The crowds hit and spat at us. They went harder on Joe, Sam and José than they did on me. One guy hit Joe in the face with the butt of a gun and broke his nose and gave him a concussion. Sam and José both took some awful beatings. The boys thought it was worse for me, and maybe it was. In some ways, I’d rather take the hits.

“We were handed off to different groups of soldiers, and each group started the violence all over again. They kept interrogating us, asking if we were spies, who we were working for on the rebels side, berating us about our visas and passports. On the sixth day they stuck us on a plane to Tripoli, and there we were turned over to government officials — the Foreign Office and the like, or what was left of it. That’s when the beatings stopped. We were given food, and clean clothes, and a bunch of official explanations. The suits wanted our turnover to be official, whatever that meant, and that held up our release for a few days. But finally, diplomats from Turkey came and got us, and took us over the border to Egypt.”

I let out a long breath, and, my story mostly over, I scooted down the bed and leaned into Jamie. I let his body encompass mine, driving out the cold and terror.

“What happened when you got back?” Jamie asked softly.

“There was some media coverage, but not a ton. It’s not like Americans give a shit about journalists these days, and they really don’t give a shit about anything abroad. The worst of it was some blonde talking head on Fox News saying that we had it coming and spewing some lies about what happened. We all sued and the network settled pretty quickly — we all got a small cut of that, and Reuters ponied up for Joe’s medical expenses and some therapy. And then I got this job and here I am.” I kissed his forearm, which he had snuggled around me.

“But, what about your husband?”

Ah, we had finally gotten to what Jamie really wanted to know. “I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since before I left for the trip. I hid out at Joe’s for a few months, and he helped me move my stuff out when Frank was at a conference. And I lawyered up to end it on paper too.”

What I didn’t say, but felt to the marrow of my bones, was that there was nothing quite like truly believing that you are going to die for six straight days to bring clarity to your life. Tied up and blindfolded and in total terror, I had known that no matter what happened I was getting out of my marriage, be it by the separation of death or divorce.

“You were so brave, Sassenach,” Jamie whispered in my ear as he curled his body behind mine.

“I just endured.” We lay together silently for a while. I tried to sync my breathing to his, feeling his long inhales and exhales on my neck. “How much of this did you know?”

He chuckled. “Some. Geillis likes to talk,” he said, confirming my suspicions about our fair-haired colleague.

“It’s OK,” I said. I turned in his arms so we were face-to-face. “I wanted you to know.” His breath hitched, and my heart started to speed up. I wrapped a leg around his hip, bringing my center into contact with his quickly hardening erection. I rubbed myself against him like a cat against a tree, and he grabbed onto my hips, pushing me closer. “I need you.”

He kissed me sweetly while he somehow produced a condom, and then harder when he pushed into me. I was hot all over, and his fingers pressed into my hip, urging me higher until it was so much that my body shook and spasmed — Jamie following me into bliss with a cry muffled against my lips.

It was dawn and I drifted away into sleep again, leaving Jamie with the keeping of my dreams.

Author’s note: I’ve conveniently shifted the timeline, but Claire’s experiences in Libya are extensively based on those of New York Times photographer Lynsey Addario, who was detained in Libya by the forces loyal to now-deposed (and assassinated) Prime Minister Muammar Qaddafi in 2011. Read more about the capture and detention of the four journalists, and about Addario’s personal experiences.

[lawyerladyakw80]

We Need to Talk About Gun Violence

Let’s have a frank discussion about guns or, more accurately, let’s have a frank discussion about gun violence.  At the outset, I’d like to disclose my biases.  I don’t like guns.  I’m inherently risk-adverse when it comes to personal safety.  I’m a person who goes out of her way to avoid people who act strange, people who are overly emotional, people who believe in conspiracies, people who look for conflict where conflict doesn’t exist, people who refuse to believe in the better parts of humanity, and people who inherently believe that everything in life is somehow about them.  

But I’m also a practicing attorney and, unfortunately, I’m confronted by many of those exact personalities on a daily basis.  I’ve done a lot of reading and a lot of thinking over the past 19 years since Columbine about guns and gun violence.  I saw “Bowling for Columbine” in the theater when I was in college and I shared Michael Moore’s confusion about what makes America so exceptional when it comes to guns and gun violence.  My confusion has only grown as the carnage as increased and mass shootings have become a regular occurrence.

Now, I am also a mother and watching scenes from Newtown and Parkland are terrifying reminders that we can’t control for all risk in our children’s lives. But school shootings and other public mass shootings (like Aurora) make me ask why.  Why do we have this problem in the United States?  A country that prides itself on American Exceptionalism. And they make me ask how.  How do we change it?  How do we reverse course?  How do we come together and affect change?

My readings have informed me of some basic truths about American culture:

1.   The Myth of American Exceptionalism

First, American Exceptionalism seems to extend, primarily, to certain Americans feeling entitled to being exceptional.  With the recent school shooting in Parkland, a spate of articles have been written about toxic masculinity amongst, in particular, white males in America.  An article in Harpers Bazaar points out that the recent shootings in Parkland, Aurora, Charleston, and the Isla Vista killings near UC Santa Barbara were all carried out by young white males who were ostracized by their peers, angry about perceived slights by girls and other students, and were enacting their own sense of “retribution” (the Isla Vista killer even uploaded a YouTube video using the word retribution) for these perceived slights.  However, as the Harpers Bazaar article detailed, these types of killings and shootings are not new.  In the late 80s into the mid-90s, people were being killed, primarily by men, at workplaces because of layoffs and the notion that a disgruntled worker could come and shoot up his workplace became the norm.  So why do some male Americans feel they are entitled to anything, in particular?  I believe this goes back to the myth of American Exceptionalism.  If America is, in fact, exceptional, then it would follow those at the top of that food chain – historically, white males – should be exceptional and live exceptional lives (or so they may believe).  So imagine their disappointment when equal rights for women, equal rights for racial minorities, equal rights for sexual minorities, and globalization and global trade policies force them to compete for the jobs they had previously gotten by being at the top of that food chain.  And then think about how these same men are hard-wired to handle their disappointments – with aggression, anger, and lashing out. It is absolutely their own choices and agency that bring them to this point, but to ignore what society teaches men about the correlation between aggression and success and self-worth is to ignore history.

I’ve heard a lot of gun-rights advocates and politicians, who tend to be from conservative districts, blame the media, and video games, and violent movies for the increase in violence from these men.  This strain of thought goes, “We used to bring our hunting rifles to school back when I was in school and people didn’t shoot each other.  It’s society that has changed, not the guns.”  Let’s presume I accept, whole-cloth the notion that society has changed in significant ways.  Is it really the video games and movies?  Or might it be the equal rights, and anger, that those rights illicit.  The reason that many liberals find Donald Trump’s rhetoric so dangerous is because it feeds into this same anger.  It blames minorities or immigrants for the plight of the white working class man. It blames globalization.  And as that rhetoric blames “the other” for these slights, it also asks for violence.  In a rally during his campaign, Donald Trump specifically urged violence against protestors.  So is it really any wonder that we are here?  To be very clear, I’m absolutely not blaming Donald Trump for the shootings as many happened before him and will likely happen after he is out of office. But his rhetoric is indicative of the overall disease that is American Exceptionalism and, at its base, white male exceptionalism.  His appeal was to working class white voters who felt like “their country was being taken from them.”  

My only advice to anyone struggling with these acts and who may or may not be raising children or helping others raise children:  teach your children they are owed nothing.  Teach your children that hard work does not always compute to success and that setbacks are a natural part of life.  Teach your children that they have value despite their job, despite their romantic prospects, and despite the number of “likes” on their facebook feed.  Value comes from making the world a better place, making the world a happier place, and being kind to others, particularly when those people are struggling.

2.   The More Polarized We Become, the More Likely We Will Have Mass Violence

Dr. Brene Brown, a Christian and a clinical researcher, writes extensively about her research in vulnerability.  She recently spoke/gave the guest sermon at the National Cathedral and I would urge everyone to find the YouTube video of her sermon.  I’m not religious and many in the crowd were not particularly religious, but Dr. Brown spoke about religion as the interconnectedness of people.  She said that she cannot be happy or satisfied if there are people in sub-Saharan Africa suffering.  That to be a godly person or a religious person, she believes our interconnectedness makes it important that we strive to end suffering for all people.  And she discussed politics and the polarization of politics.  

Dr. Brown posits that our political discourse is so polarized that we, essentially, dehumanize the other side of the debate.  She explains that humans are hard-wired to be social animals and that we are genetically hard-wired to care for one another.  So in order to write, think, type or read the kinds of things we often read or write about our political opponents, we have to think of them as less than human.  This dehumanization is so virulent to the fabric of our society and, really, to the fabric of our humanity, that it makes it possible for someone to go into a classroom of kindergartners and open fire on small children and their teacher trying to protect them.  

I’ve made some efforts, in recent weeks, to set standards for my political discourse. For instance, I try not to paint with a broad brush.  I try not to accuse people of biases or –isms simply because I disagree with them politically.  I try to call out when I see other people engaging in non-civil discourse.  To me this, more than anything else, is the way we get out of the mess we are in – both politically and in terms of violence. We have to start treating each other like human beings again.  We have to quit thinking that the other side is “evil.”  As Dr. Brown said, if you didn’t like people saying awful things about the Obama girls, don’t be ok with people calling Ivanka names.  

We need to teach our children to work on their empathy.  We need to teach them to come to us, as adults, when they have frustrations and feel like lashing out.  We need to listen to those frustrations and we need to both empathize with those frustrations and give them a roadmap of how to handle those frustrations in productive ways.  We need not go to combat for our children after any and all perceived slights.  We need not call their school or call other parents because our children have faced disappointments.  They need to face those disappointments and they need to learn how to cope with them without blaming others, without dehumanizing others, and without losing their own humanity.

3.  We Need to Be Willing to Talk About Guns Without Going to Our Bunkers

Again, I’m biased against gun ownership.  I don’t like guns, and I’m pretty vocal about my dislike for them.  I don’t like guns because, during my professional career, I have seen some very angry and irrational people who are daily confronted with painful and frustrating court decisions for which they have very little legal recourse.  I don’t like guns because I know the statistics about the number of Americans who are currently addicted to, or use daily, mind-altering substances that have a propensity to cause violence.  I don’t like guns because when I go to your house with my child and I know you have a gun, I have to have an uncomfortable conversation with you about how you have your gun stored to be sure my child is protected while in your home.  But mostly, I don’t like guns because they pose an unnecessary risk to human life.  I carried scissors, blade down, arm outstretched until I was at least 20 years old, so my risk-aversion runs deep.

But I’m also a lawyer, and a strong proponent of the First Amendment, so I’m interested and capable of engaging in civil discourse over the legality of guns and gun-control legislation from both the perspective of someone who abhors firearms and an adherent to the constitution.  I’m also a follower of politics and culture, and I know the capabilities/difficulties of our legislative bodies on having meaningful discussions about these issues.  

When I hear politicians say, “guns don’t kill people, people kill people” or I hear politicians say, “we don’t have a gun problem, we have a cultural problem,” I guess I don’t disagree.  But my question is: “Ok, so what are you doing about that?”  Clearly, the answer is little to nothing.  When I hear gun-control advocates ask for enhanced background checks or bring up the Obama-era Executive Order that Trump helped to repeal in February 2017, I wonder if those people know what they are fighting about.  What kind of enhanced background check?  What Executive Order?  The first issue has myriad answers because myriad states and counties within states enforce background checks differently.  The Executive Order?  It was a decent idea, but not as a broad-brush prohibition.  The Executive Order people have discussed made it so that people who were assigned a Social Security benefits payee (e.g. people who are both judicially and non-judicially thought to be incompetent to handle their financial matters), were added to the NICS background check database automatically, without due process, but were allowed an appeals process.  Even the ACLU was against this Executive Order because it included people whose mental capabilities in no way would make them more likely to be violent, but deprived them of a cognizable constitutional right.  Personally, I don’t mind the original Executive Order because 1) there was an appeals process to be removed from the database, so there was some due process built in; and 2) I don’t like guns anyway.  But I’m willing to engage in the discussion of whether the Executive Order did, in fact, unnecessarily infringe on a constitutionally protected right.  I’d go as far as saying, the designation of a payee should be included in the background check database, but it cannot be the sole grounds for prohibition.  The licensing or permitting agency must make an extra step to investigate the inclusion on the list.   I’m also willing to concede that I haven’t done much scholarly research on the topic and it probably is something that I should defer to experts at the ACLU and in gun-control advocacy groups to fight it out. Or it should be something that is adjudicated by the court system with evidence and research to support both positions.

Regardless, we should be willing to listen, learn and then decide.  Just because someone posts on their facebook wall that we should have reasonable gun control doesn’t mean that person wants the government to come seize your guns.  If you are a gun-rights advocate or, at least, a gun enthusiast, you can’t bunker down and claim we are coming for your arsenal.  Step up to the plate and have a conversation about what controls you’d feel comfortable with to help the rest of society feel safer about gun safety.  How about mandatory gun safety measures in the home such as a lockbox or a gun safe? How about background checks that MUST use the NICS database?  How about shortening the length of time a purchasing permit is effective so that people have to get rechecked more often than the 5 year limit in states like North Carolina?  How about liability insurance?

And if you want to discuss armed guards and enhanced security in our schools and public spaces, we have to discuss funding those measures.  Our teachers are already responsible for purchasing many of their own supplies and have lost the tax deduction for those purchases in the most recent tax bill.  How will we pay for metal detectors and security personnel at each school entrance? How will we pay to enclose breezeways to limit incoming traffic at schools to one or two entrances?  

The arguments I hear against gun control measures is that anything we do wouldn’t have had an impact on X shooting.  It may have helped in one shooting, but it’s not going to help in another with a different set of facts.  What’s missing in this argument is that any number of lives we can save by doing something is better than saving none by doing nothing.  We have to talk about these issues and we have to be civil about it. I promise not to suggest a repeal of the Second Amendment or a mandatory buy-back program if you promise to tell me which individuals you are ok with not having firearms.  And we both need to be very specific.  

Lawyers like words.  We like to use them against each other, we like to find loopholes and we like to argue that we can’t come to a solution unless we are agreeing upon a set language. Gun control debates always lack specificity.  Polling shows that 90+% of Americans support enhanced background checks, but that’s because 90+% of Americans have never agreed upon what an enhanced background check would entail.  I’d love it if our background check process was similar to the process that parents go through when trying to adopt a child, with home visits and everything, but that’s wildly unrealistic and burdensome on both our government and people’s Second Amendment rights.  So let’s discuss what we can agree upon instead of bunkering down.  

And gun control advocates need to quit having the attention span of gnats.  If you want gun control laws to be passed after a mass shooting, you need to come to the table on that issue in 3-4 months when the law is in the process of being written.  It can’t always be knee-jerk in reaction to a tragedy.  Gun owners are, typically, gun owners 365 days out of the year.  I imagine that it’s pretty annoying that 9 months out of the year, off and on, they can exercise their right to own guns without any debate at all.  And then 3 months out of the year, they are on constant defense because someone has abused the right to own a gun.  If you want something done about gun control, we all have to come to the table with our thoughts 365 days out of the year.  We cannot forget we care about this issue when the news agencies start reporting on Trump’s next Russia tweet.

So in short: teach your kids, directly and by example, about humility, humanity, empathy, listening, learning, and empathizing.  Teach them about resilience and about hanging in there with our fellow Americans even when things get tough.  Do these things and we may actually be able to accomplish something.

[v3-killing-harmony-imagines]

‘What if the guys were given a motive that they had to kill someone or else their S/O would be killed? (Bonus points if they're not allowed to tell anyone)’

What if the guys were given a motive that they had to kill someone or else their S/O would be killed? (Bonus points if they're not allowed to tell anyone)

I made these into short fics! It’s really long so here’s part 1! I hope you enjoy it!

Kiibo:

New message: from >$%#**^<

Subject:

Time: 12:00am

Opened: 8;00am

He awakens to a message notification, meaning someone sent him something to his servers. You see, Dr Idabashi created a ‘storing system’ much like an email program. That way the two could communicate from a distance, or in case of an emergency. Since he’s a robot, it doesn’t really make sense that he should have to carry around a phone, so he just made Kiibo part of the phone itself.

But it’s strange, in a situation like this no one should be messaging him….He doesn’t even get a signal to send or receive messages.

So how? How did someone send him something in this situation?

 For now he decides to read it, curiously opening up the file.

He doesn’t really ‘read’ the message- it’s more like the letters and words appear in his mind. You know how a song gets stuck in your head? Well it’s like that in this situation, except he doesn’t get it stuck as long as he closes the message.

 To: K!bo

From: $%#**^

Kill someone. If you don’t s/o will be killed. Destroy this message within 24 hours and do not tell anyone- I will know.

 His first thought is to panic, his second thought is to close the message as it’s repeating on non-stop in his mind.

He does both.

Kiibo takes a seat on the edge of his bead, trying to calm his nerves as his mainframe runs though numerous possibilities and solutions to the problem.

He could ,A: kill someone, become blackened and save you for now.

B: Not kill someone, and have to face the risk of your life being put in danger.

C: He could find the identity of the person the writer and get the help of someone to put an end to their plans, taking the risk and disobeying what the sender said not to do.

Every option seems like a bad decision.

‘Ok Kiibo breath, take a deep breath and follow protocol.’

Which option will save the most people?

Every option has the risk of 2 people (at least) getting killed, that doesn’t help.

Which option makes the most people happiest?

C, option c does; if it succeeds, that is.

He makes a faint whirring sound,tapping the edge of his bed with one finger as he prepares himself for what he has to do.His first thought is to get the help of Kaede, she’d at least know what to do in this situation.

But the sender could be any of the other students. It could be her, Saihara, Momota, Toujo. In this situation, who can he trust?

Who’s the person you can trust the most in the situation, the one you know that won’t betray you.

“s/o..”

You. That’s the person he can trust. There’s still a little bit of skepticism when he thinks about it, but he tries to push it away- it’ll be ok. He just has to tell you.

He doesn’t try and speak or pull you away to a private space, he’ll know that’ll look suspicious to anyone observing. He carries on as best he can, smiling warmly whenever you talk and agreeing when you ask to split off from everyone.

The two of you are searching the grounds again, for what seems like the fifth time today. He’s trying to steer the two of you as deep into the bushes as he can, to prevent from being overheard. Once he’s pretty sure that you won’t he tells you what happened.

“So, blackmail , right?” Despite (Possibly)having your life on the line, you really don’t seem to be as panicked as he thought you were.

“Y-yes.” He stammers out. He’s trying to fix that. “I did the calculations and its best if I told you, and maybe we could figure something out.” He says it more like a question rather than a statement.

You give him a soft sigh, sitting down against a tree, laying your head back and shutting your eyes.

“What a pain.”

It’s moments like these that he’s glad to be in a relationship with you. The soft sighs, the closed eyes and rising of your chest. He isn’t truly human, but that’s why he adores observing your natural state.

“I’ll just have to always have you by my side then,” You say after a minute. “Or at least never be alone at any point in time.”

“What about-”

“Himiko and I can use the bathroom together, if I can drag Tenko off her. But maybe it’s better that way, Tenko will throw any one who seems suspicious around her darling Yumeno-san.”

You give a breathy laugh, sliding down the tree and laying in his lap.

“And my precious Kiibo will be sure to watch over me as I sleep, right?”

He blushes, spluttering out a yes as his face heats up.

You giggle up at him, curling up and draping his arm over your shoulder as you try and sleep.

Korekiyo Shinguuji:

      “Kill someone or else s/o will be killed.”

He’s just woken up one morning, a note slid under his door. When he turns it over, he finds that there’s another few lines of dialogue:

“Choose to tell anyone and it’s game over for s/o.”

He glares at the note, as if it will somehow cower in fear by his gaze. It sadly doesn’t.

He sighs, now his whole morning is ruined by a stupid blackmail note. Perfect. He’s more cross with the situation rather than scared to be frank. It’s a killing game, of course there will be people like this.

Or perhaps- maybe this is the mastermind’s doing?

In any case, he won’t be able to tackle the day without some fuel. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. He doesn’t eat with everyone else, or eat at all at times. He would have to take off his mask.

So he slips by the table of people into the kitchen, grabbing a slice of bread before slipping out

His taste buds are thankfully not nitpicky; he can eat something such as cows tongue to a bowl of cheerios. He slips (Literally, he’s slim enough that he doesn’t need much space to get by at all) into the bathroom, trying to scarf down the rye slice while still pacing himself. It’s bad if you eat too fast.

With his makeshift breakfast being eaten and the crumbs being dusted off his uniform, he makes his way back to the dining hall for a second time.

Everyone seems to have gathered, all the seats except for one have been taken.  It also happens to be right in front of the fans (or was it more of a vent fan?). No one liked them, it would mess up your hair and give you the chills for the half hour you were stuck sitting there. For this reason everyone was gathered at the other side of the table, squishing more chairs than available space. If someone couldn’t get a space then they would just stand for the time and tough it out.

 The only person who was on the same side of the table was Gonta, either he didn’t care about his hair being messy, or he was combing it in place (one time he showed up with a legitimate birds nest in his hair. When someone told him, he gasped and said that Gonta didn’t realize- Gonta had thought that it was just a tangled piece of hair.)

Korekiyo would normally sit on the other side, or stand if it really came down to that. Today isn’t a day he can worry about elbow room or stand though; he’s got some things to say.

Kaede grins her goody-too-shoes grin, claps her hands and begins the morning meeting. It’s been the same thing for the past week.

Did anyone find anything new? No. Did anyone find anything that could help them get out? No. Anything about the outside world? No.

It’s such a common routine, that no one expects someone to say ‘yes’. When Korekiyo says he’s found something Akamatsu actually does a double take, everyone reacts fairly the same way. She splutters for a moment, before she urges him to tell everyone about what he’s found.

He stands up, partly because the fan makes his hair fan out around him like a deity, and partly because it’s a move to initiate power or dominance.

“I presume that none of you have received it… otherwise I think we could all tell something was up.” His voice rolls on the s, and he drags out some of the words. He’s got everyone hanging onto his every word, even Ouma standing by the wall seems to be listening. “But this morning I was given this,” He pulls out the note. “It is a blackmail note. It says if I do not kill someone, s/o shall be killed.”

There’s a bit of gasps, Akamastu immediately stands up, interrogating Korekiyo on questions he has no answers to.

“If I knew more I would tell you, but that’s all there is to it. For now.”  He taps a finger to his shoulder, flicking a stray lock of hair out of his face and back into its fanning pattern.

He scans the room, searching everyone’s faces for some kind of reaction, some type of clue. A glaring eyes, a salty look, anything that could tell him who may be the culprit.

He knows for a fact that it couldn’t be Monokuma. Or the Mastermind for that matter, it would go against one of the school rules: The headmaster is not allowed to hurt the students, unless they break a rule. He’s  double-checked the regulations, and no new ones have been added as of recently. Monokuma would have had a big announcement if it did anyways. (He knows this because Ouma kept jamming the boys toilets with onions, not only was it a pain to un-clog but the smell that was left over was putrid. Monokuma had told everyone that night that the clogging/ jamming of toilets was punishable by death.) (Ouma just smirked and pulled out an onion from his back pocket.)

To his dismay, everyone seems to have some look of daze on their face- even Maki has a harder look than usual, biting the bottom of her lip.

Kaede gathers everyone’s attention, telling them all that they should all help Shinguji to find the culprit.

He knows people want to object, to say ‘But that doesn’t concern me, why should I help?’ But by saying that they would be making themselves look suspicious.

Then again, people who would want to help can be suspicious as well. But no one objects to Kaede’s plan nonetheless.

Akamatsu insists that they all split up into groups of three, and one group of 2, searching each other’s rooms and other areas of the school.

Now some people object, saying it’s an invasion of privacy. Korekiyo tells them that if they search every other room, find nothing, and haven’t checked theirs- they’re going to be suspected imminently.

They all agree (with a bit of unwillingness) after that.

Korekiyo takes you, of course, as his one and only partner for the investigation. You two search around the school for a couple of hours, running into different groups along the way there, until it’s time for everyone to reconvene in the dining hall to tell everyone what they’ve found.

People slowly start to trickle in, Korekiyo and yourself making it there early to grab seats on the far side (AWAY from the fans).

The arrived students wait 10 minutes, then 20, then 30. By the time 40 minutes have gone by they realize that something is up; Tenko Gonta and Amami should have been back by now.

“Maybe they’re all having a threesome.”He hears Ouma short from his place at the wall.

Himiko glares at him, stopping mid pace (She had started walking back and forth across the floor by 25 minutes.) “Tenko wouldn’t do that you dumbass!”

Ouma gives a little shake of his head, “You’re right, she’s too Sapphic to do that…”

If there’s one thing Korekiyo has learned about Ouma, it’s that he’s a fast thinker. A witty fast thinker.

“I’ll go look for them.” Saihara offers.

“Don’t.” Maki pulls on his arm. “If there’s a fight you’d get beaten into a bloody pulp, and having to investigate the Super high school level detective’s body would be an irony that everyone’s going to laugh at.”

“I shall go.” Toujo steps up, making Saihara sit down with a hit of embarrassment on his checks. “I know forms of self-defense, and I believe I’m more than capable if push came to shove.”

“Let me go with you.” Korekiyo steps up (You’d think they were all playing a game of duck-duck-goose if someone took out their words) “It was me who brought this whole thing up in the first place.”

Toujo nods at him, “Thank you, let us go then?”

Momota jumps up, slamming a foot on the table and earning a foul look from Toujo. “Hey! If y’all are going I’m gonna come with you as well!”

“You might as well, seeing as you’ve already made a mess on the table.” Kaito looks down at his foot, gingerly pulling it off. Korekiyo chuckles.

“Hey, let me come.” He turns, you’re standing beside him.

He gives a shake of his head, resting his hands on your shoulders. “You’re much safer here.”

“There isn’t really a ‘safer’ to begin with.”

“No one can attack you here, there’s too many witnesses.”

    “I don’t care about me being attacked.”

“s/o.” His voice is firm. “Please. Stay.”

You obey his orders. And the three of them head off, Toujo telling everyone there’s some snacks in the kitchen if they get hungry.

They start searching the rooms from the dining hall; the storage room(it was really more like a cosco when you thought about it), the gym, the bathrooms, before checking the dormitories.

As soon as the door was opened, they were met with a hectic scene.

Tenko was running from staircase to the upper and lower rooms, throwing objects at the other two boys who were trying to get to her. She ducked into one room, grabbing a chair before hurling it towards the two men below her. Amami let out a yelp as it nicked the top of his head, Gonta catching it with one hand and throwing it against the wall- shattering the wood into pieces. Tenko was yelling something at the two; her teeth glimmered like fangs as she sent a book flying with her legs.

Toujo started for the girl up top, at a surprising speed for someone with heeled shoes and a long dress. Kaito on the other hand, didn’t manage a few steps before his slipper fell off.

It seemed as if they hadn’t noticed the three yet, Korekiyo called out for Gonta and Amami, the two of them whipping around in relief.

Korekiyo marched over to the pair, giving them time to catch their breath (mostly Amami) before he asks what happened.

Apparently, they had searched Tenko’s room, found evidence (which was poorly hidden) that suggested that she was the one who sent the letter, and that’s when she flipped out and lashed out at them.

 “So why did you do it ?” Toujo asks, she had pinned the girl beneath her knees and was sitting on top of her.

“Monokuma told me too.” She wheezes, out of breath and losing some from being pinned. “Tenko didn’t want to do it, Tenko is sorry.”

As if to prove her point, Monokuma pops out of thin air, appearing long enough to confirm that before he disappears with a crack.

“Then what was the point behind this whole charade?” Korekiyo’s mostly pissed, and a little bit annoyed.

“He told Tenko she had to do it….otherwise he would reveal a dark secret about Tenko….”

“It’s about Yumeno’s panties isn’t it.”

Tenko turns dark read, spluttering out ‘No’s’ to the best of her ability.

Korekiyo gives another sigh, “Ouma was right to say you really are Sapphic.”

Ouma Kokichi:

“To the king of all pranksters” was what written on the envelope. Ouma was pleased to be called a ‘king’ from the first sentence, and it only intensified as he continued reading.

“You have graciously been asked to murder someone. If you decide to decline this, I will have no choice but to kill your s/o. Best regards.”

At first he laughed, not just because it was his natural instinct but because he thought this was some kind of joke. It had to be.This whole situation- someone was threatening to kill the one he… ‘Liked’? Hah! What a joke.

He’s Ouma Kokichi after all! Like anyone would be able to blackmail him using someone considered his ‘significant other’

He’s cackling, flopping down onto his bed with a jump.  He’s not that stupid. He would never let that happen, never let anyone come close to him.

So he can rest easy, knowing fully that he can sit back and enjoy the show.

…

He gets a few seconds of laughter in before it finally sinks in to him.

Fuck.

“Fuck , shit, damn it to hell and back.” He’s cursing, which is a sign he knows he’s lost.

Of course this happened. This is why he should have never let you in to begin with. He really has only himself to blame though, but he doesn’t have time to mope right now. There are more pressing issues on the table.

He already hates himself, there’s more time to worry about that later.

 He grabs a notebook from one of the many boxes in his room, swiping a sharpie from the ledge on the white board as he rolls back in the revolving chair. He glides a few feet backwards before he wedges a foot against the desk, holding him in place. He tears open the cap with his molars and begins to makes notes. From all the research he’s done since being at this ‘school’ so far, it’s second nature to him by this point.

First of all, he’s looking for suspects; someone who would have a grudge against him.

“Let’s see: Momota’s threatened to beat me up, Harukawa has actually threatened to kill me, I tease kiiboy daily, Saihara ignores me, Himiko told me to burn in hell, Tenko almost threw me, Korekiyo doesn’t like me either, Angie says her god thinks badly of me, annnnnddd no one would care ( except for you, maybe, possibly.) if I actually died.”

He tries to think of ways to save you, or to save the both of you for that matter.

It’s either kill, be killed, get someone else killed.

Not only that, but no one trusts him with a fork during the meals, Toujo pre-cuts his food and he’s forced to eat with chopsticks, for Christ’s sake.

He can’t get his hand on a weapon, he can’t tell anyone about this, he can’t let you die, he can’t kill anyone, what can he do?

Research. He could search everyone’s room, having to sneak away from the other 16 eyes on him plus get the door open, plus find the right information, plus have to be counting on the fact that they didn’t burn evidence in the incinerator, plus have to eat meals with chopsticks (He’s very salty over that), plus have to deal with another day of people hating him (along with himself), and then- at the end he might end up killing.

 He runs a hand through his hair, releasing a groan of displeasure as he yells at the ceiling for the sender of the letter to shove a horse dick up their ass.

 He’s finally finished investigating, after what seems like days (probably because it has been). He’s been running solely on sugar and catnaps ever since and has not once taken a nap.

It’s bad for his health, but so is chugging grape soda (There was no Panta and Ouma was disappointed. A blackmail letter and no grape Panta? It’s the end of the world.) at 4 in the morning.

Yet with all his research he hadn’t made a huge discovery and the anger from having to put up with so much was being replaced with one of paranoia.

The lack of sleep might have to do something with it, but all the while, he fells paranoid.

Paranoid about the killing game, paranoid that someone is watching his moves, paranoid that you’re going to turn on him.

It’s not good for him, but he was never about being good in the first place.

He’s sat on his bed, a cup of coffee (It’s really just sugar water rather than coffee) by his side as he pools over different possibilities, plans and information. He can feel his heart pulse in his ears, and every so often his hands will shake.

He’s been working for a few hours straight when he hears a tapping of wood. His head jerks up at the noise; he almost thinks he’s imagining it until he hears it again. It seems to be coming from outside his room, he squints at the door as his eyes snap to attention and his hair stands on end.

The tapping sound grows, turning into a banging on his door. Ouma quickly flips the light off to his table, sliding the dresser out slightly before crawling behind it.  He’s thin and small enough that he can fit no problem. From experience, he knows that things can get bad quickly. So it’s best if he stays hidden until either the knocking goes away or…..

The door swings open abruptly, making his breath catch. He makes sure to steady it immediately; a single gasp for air could give him away.

The door wasn’t busted down, that would be an immediate violation of the rules. The locks are supposed to be made impossible to break into- but Ouma isn’t so sure. It was easy enough to break into multiple rooms for his investigation, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think that the dorms would be the same way.

The footsteps continue, walking past the dresser, further into his room. They stop for a few seconds before it continues. Tap tap tapping on the floor, the light gets flicked on again, followed by the sound of rustling paper. Ouma shifts to get a better view. The rustling stops, Ouma hopes that he didn’t make too much noise-

“Ouma?”

He pops up in an instant. “S/o- chan! How nice of you to join me!”

“Why were you behind the dresser?”

He giggles pleasantly, “I was going to surprise s/o-chan until you noticed me!”

You sigh, he keeps smiling, unfurling from his position and walking towards you.

“I had come to check in on you, you. You barely came out all day…”

And yet you came for him in the middle of the night (technically morning)? That’s a bit odd isn’t it? He rolls back in his chair, turning towards you whist trying to block his noted with his body.

“I’ve been working hard to plan a prank on Kiiboy! Dontcha think it’ll be funny?”

“It seems like you’re mostly planning a murder rather than a prank.”

His smile drops, you’ve obviously seen the papers already.

“S/o-chan.” His tone is firm, “Don’t question it, please, it’s better for the both of us that way.”

“You seem to be working like you’re running out of time, like something bad’s gonna happen if you don’t.”

Ouma starts to sweat, not because you’re onto him. But because you don’t even know how far ‘bad’ will go.

“s/o-chan it’s really alright. I’m just being cautious of everyone.”

“By figuring out a way to kill and not get executed? How exactly is that being cautious?”

Ouma can feel his throat rising, his feet curling as he digs his nails into the arm of the chair.

“Look I get it,” You sigh. “You want to get out of here, we all do. But by killing someone is not the way to go. Hell, if someone threatened for me to even kill just to save myself I wouldn’t do it-”

Ouma stands up with a snap, his hand catches your wrist roughly as he pulls it to eye level, dragging you closer.

“Don’t you dare throw away your life away like that. Not you.”

You scoff, retaliating by pulling at his scarf. “I can do what I want. I won’t take away the life of a person just to save myself.”

Ouma drops your wrist, he wants to tell you so badly. About how he has to save you, bout his fear and paranoia. Yet if he does that, he’d be nailing the lid of your coffin, and quite possibly his.

“I would.” He finally whispers.

“You would throw it away for yourself? Or for me?”

“I would.” He simply says.

The tears come out of nowhere. That’s the thing with him, he barely notices when he’s on the verge of actually crying because he’s so immune to the constant buildup at this point. They start off slowly, a line of clear liquid rolling down gently as his breath catches. Just like a river, it’s memorizing. And it snowballs, the streams building up power and force, overflowing and destroying the trees in it’s path.

Ouma sobs, choking and sinking to his knees. If this were any other person, he would rather hang himself. But it’s you, and he’s not fully ok with you…. But he loves you, and wants to trust you. That’s the important thing.

He can feel you wrap your arms around him, the bright sun desperately keeping the drowning plants from choking on their own food.

He sobs, not explaining why. He just wants out.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He cries, “Please, just let me go, please.”

He doesn’t think he’s ever going to stop, he’s so afraid, he’s so scared. He doesn’t wanna he doesn’t wanna he doesn’t wanna-

“Ouma, hey. Hey Ouma” Your voice slowly brings him away from crying, even for a minute. “Listen to me ok?”

He obeys, wiping his nose in his scarf. Not looking at you, he doesn’t want you seeing his face a disgusting mess.

“It was a lie.” It’s barely a whisper on your part. “It was a joke, a stupid lie.”

He finally makes eye contact, after a few seconds his eyes go wider, realizing the truth in your words.

“You sent that letter.” His voice is cracked, but he’s past caring.

You hug him tighter, “I’m so sorry Ouma. Oh my god I’m so so so so sorry, I’m such a terrible person. I’m so sorry.”

He only hugs you back, tighter. “You’re safe, I’m safe. But most importantly you’re safe.” He says it mostly to convince himself of the words. “Hah…hah….”

He cries again, but out of relief rather than distress. He thinks you’re crying as well but he doesn’t care at this point. Both of you are messes, weeping on one-another’s shoulders and letting it all out.

 He has time to be angry (very angry) in the morning (Er, probably afternoon…) and payback will be a bitch to you, but it’ll be more tame than something monokuma would ever do.

He’s just glad that you’re safe, overjoyed if anything.

_______

“I told the sender of the letter to suck a horse dick you know.”

“Wha-”

“ ‘Uma’ means horse you know. Sound familiar to you?”

“Are you saying that you’re a horse just so I’ll suck your dick?”

“What If I am?”

“I’d say let’s ride, partner.”

Saihara Shuichi:

“Listen up, the next motive is your significant other’s death!”

Saihara can’t help but tense at Monokuma’s words. He tries to mask his reaction, and fight back a blush for two reasons.

1: He doesn’t want anyone to be tipped off that he may be hiding a relationship with someone else.

2: Can he really consider you his ‘significant other’? I mean the two of you are dating sure….

But Saihara doesn’t think they’ll be wedding bells anytime soon in a place such as a prison school, much less in the middle of some hunger games fanfiction.

 Monokuma is still talking, “Those of you in a relationship! I know there’s some of you here- if you don’t kill, your other partner will be killed!” Everyone assumes monokuma means a ‘romantic relationship’; if it were just a relationship in general everyone would be at risk.

But as far as motives go, this one is really weak, Saihara would know.

Not everyone is going to be in a relationship, from what he can deduce, there seems to be only one couple in the room, which would be himself and you. In turn, this means the motive was played to target you two. But why? He keeps this in mind; Kaede is taking the lead and trying to calm everyone else down while encouraging them at the same time. She has a habit of multitasking, as Saihara’s noticed, must be why she’s such a good pianist.

He’s really only half listening to what she’s saying, trying to think of some way to get out of the situation. To save you while also saving the lives of others.

Kaede makes a speech about how they all need to trust one-another, how they cannot let Monokuma separate them because that’s what they want. Everyone nods spiritlessly, each person dismissing themselves. No one has anything to worry about, the motive not applying to them.

He catches Ouma’s eyes on the way out, the shorter boy gives him a devious look as he mouths one word that Saihara doesn’t catch before he breaks contact and heads off in another direction.

He feels like throwing up, having to dismiss himself from Akamatsu’s assignment to search the school yet again.

Saihara made a hasty beeline to the bathroom, locking himself in the stall before shutting the lid and plopping down. He could feel the cold wave of anxiety flowing in his stomach, seeping into his legs and arms. Saihara pressed a finger to his lip-tapping a foot on the ground while his mind raced.

He didn’t want to kill anyone; he didn’t want you to have to kill anyone. He didn’t want anyone to be killed period.

He begins to bite the inside of his cheek. (Saihara never bit his fingernails, God knows where the gunk under that’s been. At least with his cheek he won’t be risking his immune system from a bacteria invasion.)

At the same time, he would have to figure out why Monokuma was targeting him specifically for this…. It was too much for him to handle.

He’s beginning to chew a bit too hard, but he doesn’t notice it. (Another thing about Saihara-he notices everything around him, being a detective, but not so much the things about himself.)

The detective lets out a noise that sounds like a mouse in pain, tears threatening to fall down as his jaw clenches. His eyes pressed tight and teeth fixed to the slick wall of flesh.

‘Think of s/o. Think of how they would pet your hair and tell you that everything would be fine.’

You’ve been a big help for him in his life. He remembers you finding him working one day, tears trickling down his face as he worked on as usual. He insisted that he should work, despite the fact that he was obviously pained by something. You made him put the sheets of paper (some of them stained with tears) down and sat by his side until he had vented and cried himself out.

Right now he would really want that. To be able to relax and know that everything will be alright.

Except it won’t be. That is, if he doesn’t do anything.

He unlocks himself out of the stall, splashing some water on his face to snap him out of his trance as he gathers up his courage. He’s a detective. Hell, the Super high school level detective at that. If he can’t find a way out of this mess, who else could?

Saihara works tirelessly, sometimes pulling all-nighters (Ok so maybe he’s a bit tired.) to try and uncover more about the situation.

Finally, after weeks of calculations, surviving on anxiety and fear, he’s gotten somewhere. The identity of the mastermind.

It was a bit tricky, for a normal person it would be difficult. Then again, Saihara is not a normal person (In more ways than one…) It was little things, small things that normal people would find odd.

The occasional dot of pink on Monokuma. The undersides of the feet on the exisals, the cutlery in the kitchen having some kind of strange stickiness to it…The pink dot, was in fact a paint. The underside of the exisals were coated in a sharp smelling liquid- thinner. And the sticky solution- a glue of some form.

Clues like this, they all point to Angie.

Saihara considers Iruma for a bit, but there was one factor that made it clear that Angie was the guilty party. It was almost too easy, really. Angie had broken one of the ‘rules’ in the student E-books, she had destroyed school property to create one of her stone sculptures. Monokuma had done nothing about it.

Saihara knew things needed to be settled. He needed to protect you. He needed to free everyone.

      That’s how he found himself in Yonaga’s room late at night. A knife clutched to his chest as he waited under her bed.He felt the creaking of the mattress above him, the quiet humming of the girl keeping him alert.He waited until the lights went off, and her breathing had slowed down an hour ago to finally move.Once he had finally slid out from underneath, he realized how badly he was shaking. His knuckles were glowing white, even in the dark, and everything around him felt cold. He had to do it quickly, before it would be too late.

But as he tried to take a step, his breath caught and he nearly cried out in fear. He tightened the grip on his knife, he was afraid he might drop it from nerves.

‘Come on Saihara, focus.’

He takes a step forward, the floorboards creak slightly, he winces.

When Angie rouses, Saihara can feel everything in his mind go blank. The undetermined fear of being caught shook his foundation.

The girl gives a little hum in her sleep, shifting to the opposite side as she relaxes with another exhale.

Saihara releases a sigh of his own, relief flooding him. It’s short lived, however.

Angie’s rustle only reminded Saihara of one thing- he’s going to kill a living human. The curling figure is a person with memories, a consciousness, dreams and futures. He’s about to end it.

   He shivers, even though there’s a fan blowing idly in her room. He grasps the knife tighter. He counts in his mind, down from 10. Readying himself with each decreased digit. When he gets to 1, he chickens out and nearly loses his balance min-lunge. He has to swing his arms to keep from falling onto the bed.

He’s close to a panic attack at this point, hyperventilating and pressing the point of the knife into his palm.

Saihara thinks of you, the thoughts of warm lattes and cozy blankets relaxing him somewhat.

When he’s calmed down, the palms of his hands are bleeding and so is the inside of his cheek.

He tries again, counting down from 10 a bit slower. He can’t think about it, he can’t think about how he’s going to end a person’s life and memories and consciousness with one slice. Or stab.

‘4’ - he remembers Angie introducing herself.

‘3’ - he’s about to chicken out again.

‘2’ - he remembers all of those that have died in this game, the ones that died because of the mastermind. How they didn’t want to die either.

‘1’ - Monokuma’s motive replays in his head one more time; Ouma’s smirk, his reflection in the mirror.

Then he feels the splatter of blood on his uniform, and the scream from Angie. He holds it there for a few seconds, the blood seeps into his pores and clothing. It’s doesn’t smell like blood, but some of it gets into his mouth. He tastes the iron in it. He wakes up when Angie claws at his hands, he screams, in reality of what he’s done.

His instincts take over- and he twists the knife to finish it.

She goes limp, Saihara takes a step back.

He’s done it, he’s beaten the game.

He’s still for a couple of seconds, letting the image burn into his mind.

And then he starts screaming.

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

Smokes on you. Pt 1

A one shot of Gallavich life with Yevgeny. xx

There are many things that Yevgeny Milkovich knows. He knows about dinosaurs and how they went extinct. He knows the importance of eating vegetables. He knows that you have to look both ways before crossing the street. He knows that if the cops ask you a question about someone, you tell them you don’t know nothing. Today he also learned that smoking is bad for you.

They watched a video about it in class about how it gives you a bad cough and makes your fingers yellow and you can get really sick.

This has concerned Yev quite a bit because both Pop and Dad smoke and actually Mom smokes too but not quite so much as Pop and Dad.

Yev has made a list, he is fond of lists, and on it he has written a list of reasons why they should all quit smoking and drawn pictures of skulls and crossbones at the top of the page just to drive the point home.

He sees Dad waiting at the school gate for him, he’s easy to spot because he’s so tall and has a bright green beanie had tugged over his ears against the cold and Yev trots over, dodging past the kids who are a bit more cautious about running in the snow. Dad sees him coming and waves, dipping into a crouch and catching Yev as he deliberately skids the last couple of feet.

*

Ian gives Yevgeny a huge hug and spins around once before setting the kid on his feet and holding out his hand to cross the street.

“Hey! Good day, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

Yev pulls his mitten clad hand away as soon as they are on the other side. He feels like he’s too old for such things now and Pop doesn’t seem too fussed but Dad keeps forgetting … or he says he forgets. Yev isn’t actually sure he believes this.

“We watched a video about smoking today.”

“Oh yeah? How was that.”

Ian lets the little hand go but keeps his hand hovering by Yev’s collar, ready to pull him out of harms way if a cyclist or crack-head pitches into view.

“Not good.”

Yev shakes his head gravely and Ian does his best not to smile. Yev is kind of a serious little kid. Basically the opposite of what Carl was like at his age. He is naturally rather reserved and a little shy in new situations which some people mistake for being soft but Ian knows there is a core of steely determination that runs through the kid as surely as he knows where it comes from.  

“It’s really bad for you, Dad. I made a list to show you and Pop and Mom too. It says all the reasons you should quit.”

Ian glances down at the stubborn set of the sturdy little shoulders, braced beneath his parka in a way that is all too familiar and grimaces.

“Ah… Yev, I can’t wait to read your list but I don’t know if … um … well you know, I don’t want you to start smoking, that would suck, but once you start it is really hard to stop ...”

“Yeah, they said that in the video,”

Yev nods, pleased that Dad is familiar with this already

“But Miss Tyler says that we should tell our parents how important it is to try.”

Ian thinks that Miss Tyler is probably going to get some really shitty phone calls from parents with enough crap on their plates without adding nagging kids to it, but he nods and tries to look as though he is considering this.

Yev’s confidence is a personal crusade for Ian. He never misses an opportunity to make sure Yev knows that his opinions are valid and important. Mickey tends to lack a little patience in that area and gets frustrated quickly when Yev is trying to explain something and can’t quite find the words. He doesn’t tend to get mean about it but sometimes his body language makes Ian want to cringe with how obviously he is wanting Yev to spit whatever it is out and the more obviously irritated Mickey is, the more Yev struggles.

With this in mind Ian smiles brightly down at Yev and says

“Why don’t you show me when we get home and I’ll show Pop later?”

“No, it’s OK. I’ll show him.”

“Oh, yeah, sure bud. It’s just … you know … Pop might not see quite what it is Miss Tyler is thinking.”

“She thinks he should stop smoking.”

Yev states simply and Ian scrunches his nose, really hoping Yev doesn’t put it that bluntly to Mickey.

*

Ian is expecting to have Yev to himself for a bit when they get back but Mickey is already home, the smell of tomato sauce wafting from the kitchen.

“Hey Pop!”

“Hey! How was school?”

“Meh.”

Yev makes a so-so gesture with his hand, dumping his backpack by the kitchen door and helping himself to a soda from the fridge

“You leave that there and I trip over it, I’m not gonna be happy.”

Yev rolls his eyes at Ian conspiratorially but obligingly shoulders the bag

“I’ll be in my room, Dad can you come up and look at my list in a minute?”

“Sure kiddo, 5 minutes though? Need to talk to Pop real quick.”

Mickey’s eyes flick toward Ian over the top of Yev’s head and as the sound of Yev’s winter boots clomping up the stairs fade, he rinses his fingers and dries them on his jeans before turning to Ian.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing major. Yev has something he wants to talk to you about and I would like it if you tried to be … open to his thoughts.”

“Okay.”

Mickey wrinkled his nose slightly, amused

“Is this about the quad bike for Christmas again? Cause that ain’t happening. Even if we could afford it, Svetlana would kill me.”

“No, it’s … they were talking about smoking at school.”

“Fuck!”

Mickey’s eyes widened.

“Is he smokin’ already? I knew my packets were goin’ down fuckin’ quicker than usual. I thought it was Iggy. Shit. I already fuckin’ shredded his favourite porn mag. Woops!”

Mickey laughed and turned back to the bubbling sauce, stirring it gently.

“Don’t worry, man. I’m not gonna yell at him, but he ain’t gettin’ hooked til he can pay for his own habit.”

“No! They made them watch this video ...”

“Here, try this...”

Mickey interrupted turning back to Ian with a spoon of sauce and held it up for him to taste.

“Damn! That’s really good!”

“Yeah? Thanks. I used actual oregano this time instead of Joey’s pot. Fuck! That was a pasta to remember … or not.”

Mickey grinned, tiptoeing to kiss away a stray spot of sauce from the corner of Ian’s mouth before turning back to the stove.

“Ha! Yeah I remember ... sort of. Anyway, they watched this video and Yev’s teacher said the kids should try and get their parents to quit smoking.”

Ian pushed the words out before he could get distracted by Mickey’s kiss and the way the muscles of his forearms moved as he shook a little more pepper into the sauce, the sleeves of his navy sweater pushed up.

“Oh shit! Svet is gonna hate that!”

Mickey sounds positively gleeful at the thought of it and Ian barely resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“He’s going to ask us too.”

“What? Get the fuck out! Yev is little but he ain’t stupid.”

Ian folded his arms and let out an impatient exhalation through his nose

“This means a lot to him, Mickey.”

“Oh Jesus … Listen, he’s eight. Everything means a lot to him and then the next thing comes along and he forgets about whatever the first thing was. He’s like a fuckin’ tiny version of Frank.”

Mickey grinned and took the pan off the stove, covering it with a mismatched lid that he balanced with practised skill.

“Will you at least here him out without being an asshole?”

“Hey!”

“Well, I mean, look, you get kinda frustrated with these things...”

Ian ran his hands lightly down his boyfriends arms, enjoying the feel of the soft dark hair against his palms before catching Mickey’s fingers and twining them with his own.

“Yeah but I don’t get frustrated with Yev specifically, it’s just kids take forever to fuckin’ say anything.”

“To him it’s one and the same.”

Ian cajoled and glanced at his watch

“I told him I’d be five minutes, I need to go up.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of Mickey’s nose.

“Just try and look like you’re thinking about it.”

“Fine.”

Mickey tweaked Ian’s chin between his thumb and forefinger affectionately and smiled

“Dinner in fifteen.”

*

Yev set out his materials with the meticulousness that he had seen Dad use on pretty much any project they did together. Pop tended to just get stuck in and that was fine but Yev did enjoy the thorough attention to detail that Dad had, whether it was setting out glitter glue or cooking Smores.

Yev answered the knock on the door with a formal ‘Come in’ that he heard teachers at school use and liked because it sounded grown up and in charge, and greeted Dad with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Wow! This looks professional!”

Yev fought back a grin by biting the inside of his lower lip, pleased with the compliment and nodded to his bed

“Have a seat, Dad.”

Ian obligingly sat on the bed, his posture straight and attentive. Yevgeny sat beside him and picked up his list and the laser pointer he got from Uncle Lip when they went to see him at his college. He cleared his throat, took a breath and looked up at Ian with huge, earnest blue eyes.

“This is a list of reasons why smoking is bad and why you should quit.”

Ian felt his lip tremble and covered a laugh with a cough as convincingly as he was able to. Damn! The little boy was so very like Mickey sometimes! He just set out exactly what he wanted, no preamble, no wasted words. Maybe to Mickey it felt like Yev took forever to say anything but by normal kid standards, Yevgeny was as stoic as his Pop.

“See! You already have a cough. You could get rotten teeth and gross fingers and you could get sick and die.”

Yev shone the little green laser dot at each of these points in turn and then aimed it at the carefully drawn tombstone. Ian noticed that this tombstone said ‘Ian’ but that two others beside it said ‘Mickey’ and ‘Svet’ respectively just to really prove the point.  

“Sure but a lot of people smoke for a long time and never get sick. It’s kind of a lottery.”

Ian shrugged and then quickly added

“Not that you should risk it.”

“So you’ll quit?”

Yev asked, beaming at his Dad, thrilled with just how well it was going.

“Well I guess I could cut down ...”

Yev shook his head and frowned

“Nah, you need to quit, Dad.”

He pointed the light at the line which said ‘Smoking hurts your lungs.’ and then shone it at Ian’s chest.

“Do your lungs hurt yet?”

“No.”

“Well they will. If you get sore lungs it’s gonna suck.”

Slim black eyebrows came together and rose up Yevgeny’s forehead as his lips formed a knowing pout and Ian realised he was sunk.

“Yeah well ...”

He tried to think of something, anything really because he did not want the hassle of nicotine withdrawals, not with practically every other adult he knew sparking up around him! But Yevgeny was giving it every ounce of Milkovich persuasion he had and Ian just didn’t have the heart to say no. He could hardly ever say no to that face.

It was how they ended up having jello for breakfast sometimes.

It was why Ian’s favourite Simpson’s shirt was now Yevgeny’s favourite Simpson’s shirt.

It was what caused Ian to once need to explain to Svetlana why her son came home an under-shave haircut that increased his paternal resemblance no end when he only went for a trim.

Ian sighed.

It was also why the DVR was full of Mickey’s dirt bike shows.

It explained how Mickey’s music was normally on first play in the car

Now it was why after over ten years of being a dedicated nicotine addict, Ian was now going to try and quit smoking.

*

Ian finished his meeting with his son and was dismissed with a huge hug and a promise that he was doing the right thing, Miss Tyler says so.

“Great! Thanks bud.”

Ian forced himself to smile and trudged down the stairs preparing himself for the shit-eating grin he knew was going to greet his news.

“Well, I’m fuckin’ quitting smoking.”

He announced, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs and throwing his hands up in defeat. Mickey glanced up from plating up the spaghetti and meatballs, one eyebrow raised.

“That kid has you almost as whipped as I do.”

If the fruit bowl had any fruit in it, Ian would have thrown something at his boyfriend but flipped him off in lieu of it.

“Fuckin’ Milkovichs.”

“Yeah, but you love us.”

Mickey released the shit-eating grin Ian had been waiting for and Ian found himself smiling back despite himself.

“Yeah, God help me, I really do.”

[thedaemonicwriter]

The Boy in The Woods

Dipper resisted the urge to ask who, Wirt exactly got out. But Dipper had enough common sense to not ask. And, he really didn’t want to open that can of worms. So, Dipper decided to do the next best thing. Change the subject. “what direction, or, way are we going?”

Wirt paused “I think… I think it would be… would be best to go to… to go by the lake, that’s where I… I went last time,”

Dipper gave a relieved sigh. “Sounds simple enough, how long ‘till we get there?”

“Oh, we couldn’t be much… much further away-“ Wirt re-adjusted his cape coat “-it would take us weeks… maybe month… sorry, months”

“Month- months?!”

Wirt froze “Months at the most!” he tried to reassure.

“Dude! That’s still a really long time!” Dipper’s fingers slipped under his hat that Windy gave him and tugged at his hair “My Grungles are gonna kill me, Hell, Mable, is going to kill me! And I would let them.” Dipper looked back at Wirt “I would freak’en let them! Is there a faster way, by any chance?!”

Wirt shook his head “I’m sorry, I just… you never know what could happen in these… these woods,”

Dipper took a deep breath “Y’know what? Just as long as I get there.” Dipper nervously chuckled “I mean, better late than never, right?”

Wirt gave Dipper a concerned look “Let’s just… let’s just start walking,”

Dipper blinked “Yeah, that- that would probably be the best thing to do now.”

Both walked silently side by side for a while.

Dipper looked around the woods “so, where to first?”

“we need… we need to find… find the train tracks, then we can follow them… follow them until… until we get to the lake,”

Dipper turned his head so fast at Wirt it almost snapped “Whoa, hold on a second, there are train tracks?! Why don’t we just take the train then?”

Wirt shook his head “The train… the train isn’t for… us,”

Dipper straighten his back “they won’t allow us on?”

Wirt laughed, it was cold, dark and jarring. Dipper winced at the crackles. “Oh they… they would let us on… but only… only our lives could pay… could pay for the tickets,”

“You- you mean they would kill us if- “

Wirt shook his head “Not… exactly, only the dead can get on, they would… they would except nothing… nothing else,”

Dipper’s lips thinned “that’s messed up man,”

Wirt nodded “yeah… yeah it is,”

Thankfully it didn’t take long to find it. They only had to walk a few yards until they reached a clearing with browned and green grass.

Dipper looked at the pair of long rusted steel rods and the molded pieces of wood that connected the two of them together unimpressed “So, this is it, huh? The dead peoples train tracks,”

Wirt stared at it as well “… yup,”

“I gotta say, I’m a bit unimpressed”

“Well… don’t… don’t say that yet, you still haven’t seen the train itself,”

Dipper shrugged, and decided not to argue. “Okay, alright, step one done. Now we just need to follow this until we get to the lake” Dipper took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips “I hope that’ll be as simple as it sounds,”

Wirt eyed Dipper “I must be… be honest with you. I don’t… don’t exactly have the… best of luck,”

Dipper’s arms drooped to his sides “yeah. Me neither,”

Both stood there for a moment.

Dipper took a deep breath “Thanks man for showing me this. I mean, I would still be lost without you.” Dipper held out his hand, “I, um, see you later?”

Wirt didn’t take his hand and Wirt cocked his head “Are you… is this a goodbye?”

Dipper dropped his hand a bit “well, I don’t really expect you to spend months or weeks of your time just to get me out of the mess I got myself into. That’s just, not cool,”

Wirt pulled out his hand and pushed Dipper’s hand back to his side “no I’m… I’m coming with you, if you… if you want,”

Dipper pulled back a little from surprise “Really?” then Dipper narrowed his eyes in suspicion “why?”

“Because it’s not… it’s not safe for anyone to walk… to go alone in the woods,” Wirt gave a small, lopsided warm smile “besides, I’m a wanderer… a nomad… even if it’s for a little while, it would be nice… to travel with someone for… for a little while,”

Dipper blinked, then returned the smile. “Alright then, let’s do this!” he began to walk until Wirt stopped him.

“You’re going… the wrong way,”

Dipper turned around “Oh, then, this way!”

Wirt gave a sheepish smile “I think we need to stop for… for a bit,”

Dipper turned to him and waited him to finish.

“I’m sorry but” Wirt pointed to the sky “… but the… sun,”

Dipper looked up and saw that the stars were starting to fade and light was creeping in. “We better find a spot then.”

  ~

  “Well isn’t this…” Wirt struggled to pick a word “cozy,”

Dipper snorted “Yeah, I would totally give it a five-star review.”

They were both in a moldy, hollowed old log. It smelled of rot, the sides felt slimy and it had all sorts of bugs crawling. Dipper decided not to think about too much and just hoped that his blue jeans and his orange t-shirt and his vest will be salvageable after this.

The only ‘ok’ thing about all of this were the sound of raindrops splattering the ground and the smell of rain subduing the smell of mold.

Also, all personal space was disregarded. They were pressed in so close together that no matter what position they were in, their noses brushed against each other and turning around was not an option.

Honestly, Dipper didn’t know how they were gonna get out without getting stuck in the prosses. “At least I’m out of the rain, and you’re out of the sun,”

“Yes… lucky us.” Wirt paused “how do you… how do you think we’re going… going to get out again?”

Dipper wanted to shrug, there wasn’t enough room. “I guess we get out one at a time? … Just like how we got in?”

Wirt’s big yellow eyes blinked “I don’t think its… I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

Dipper huffed “It’s at least worth a shot, besides, you got any better ideas?”

“Look let’s just… just not worry about… about it, we have hours to… we need to get to sleep,”

Dipper raised a brow “Are you really going to get some rest in here? Because, it’s gonna take me a couple of hours to get used to… this.”

Wirt raised a brow “… what are you… implying? And what can… what could we do… do instead? I’m surprised that… that my horns fit in here, I can’t even… can’t even move, let alone do something else.”

“Look, I don’t know man. We could, get to know each other I guess? We’re going to be stuck together for a while.”

Wirt snorted “Only if you go first.”

Dipper frowned “Alright, fine.” He paused to think of something “…I’m- I get flashbacks because of triangles, sometimes. So, heads up.”

Wirt blinked “wait- what?”

“Really it’s the whole town of Gravity Falls to be frank.” Dipper added.

“That doesn’t… really answer my question.”

Dipper stared off at the distance, or at least as much as he could in a log “There was a dream Demon that invaded the Falls. Monsters roamed the streets, people were disfigured, turned to stone, and on the run...”

Dipper hesitated to tell more, but Wirt silently listened. Not asking for more then what Dipper was willing to tell. And that alone let Dipper finish the story. “My sister, Mable, was prisoned in a bubble. Me, and my friends Windy and Soos were on the run. And my Great Uncle Stanford was turned into a statue.”

Dipper paused “so, yeah. The dream demon, Bill Cipher, was the shape of a triangle.” He frowned “kinda silly in retrospect. But yeah… triangles are now terrifying.”

Wirt looked down “I don’t… I don’t really know… what to say to that.”

Dipper attempted a shrug, but there wasn’t enough room “I had a good year to think about it. So, I don’t mind telling people. Just don’t get weirded out if I seem to be freaking out for no reason.”

Wirt tried nodding, but his head ended up gently nocking into Dippers and his horns scratching the sides of the tree “No… I won’t… even dream of it.” He winced “that was… bad wording,”

Dipper smiled “Naw, its fine.”

Aside from the raindrops, it was quite for a bit

Wirt sighed “I guess… its… it’s my turn. Now.” He fidgeted a bit “this is… going to be… kinda lame, but I used to… I used to do poetry.” Wirt have Dipper a guilty look “Not quit as… open as yours…”

Dipper waved him off, or tried to “Hey man, you take your time. Because trust me, we have plenty of it.”

“Ok… then…” Wirt frowned “I used to be… so good with… words. I used to… love to play with them. You… you know?” his eyes became a bit glassy “And now look… look at me. I can barely string… string a sentence together.” Wirt blinked faster “but when… but when you don’t speak to anyone… for a while. You forget. And that’s what… what I did. I forgot.”

Dipper then could only stare. He remembered reading about how reliant humans were on touch, and conversation. That hundreds upon hundreds of people restricted themselves such a basic necessity, or were denied.

Slowly, Dipper put his arms around Wirt into a hug. At first, Wirt went rigid. But as soon as Dipper was about to let go, Wirt slowly returned the embrace and placed his head on the nook of Dippers neck.

It was far from familiar, very awkward, a bit too rigid, and definitely something the two of them were unused to.

But yet, neither could find it in themselves to let go.

And the both of them were surprisingly ok with that.

    Authors note: Heard you wanted more, so I wrote more. If you want to see the first chapter, just go on my account and put in “Pinescone” You’ll be sure to find it!

[makoto-naegi555]

Nature Boy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144008/chapters/78273545

So after existing the room Makoto began to think

Fifteen of us met in the mail hall. Add Mukuro to the mix and you get sixteen. And including me, only six of us are still alive. Everyone else...is dead.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead

Even Mukuro. (dead) Even she's undeniably dead. So the ones still left alive are... Me. (dead) I’m not dead (was dead) Byakuya.(dead inside) Hiro. (Brain dead) Toko. (Dead to me) Hina.(dead set on donuts) And Kyoko... (dead dad) Only those six people are still alive. Then there's no question...

Makoto: Wait, no! That can't be! I refuse to believe it! There has to be some other way... There just HAS to be!

Siramay: well of course its none of them! I assure you zetsu is none of the six students you mentioned.

As siramay said that his hand lifted up and started choking himself as he struggled to pry his hand away

Makoto: what was that!?

Siramay: trying to breath it has come to my attention I may be to open on identifying information about the mastermind so please disregard what I have said and will said and starting now I shall try to keep their identifying features to a minimum… starting now.

Makoto: wait but if it isn’t one of-

Siramay: STOP THINKING!

Makoto: but what about-

Siramay: STOP THINKING!

Makoto:-

Siramay: let me tell you what both you and the mastermind have in common you both need to STOP THINKING! just think about bears!

And as siramay said that when I tried to think back on what he said my brain was spammed with images of bears doing things… daw WAIT I SHOULDN’T BE THINKING ABOUT THAT NOW

Siramay: you’ll find out the masterminds identity eventually but for now you can’t find it out from me so please for my health don’t use my words.

And so with the new handbook in tow Makoto could now recheck the lockers and saw something very interesting as he saw the locker belonged to Yasuhiro interesting very interesting indeed and in the other locker he saw a pocket book in witch it was clearly Kyoko’s point of view in a plan to keep students in here as a final hope thing and then the final page revealing there are 2 despairs (or maybe we can say des-pairs) in this school bum bum buuuuuummmm needless to say this confused Makoto greatly but he kept moving forward with the investigation so Makoto went to the data center aka there lair, in which hina urged Makoto to open the monokuma door cause she was scared and they saw the monokuma control room

Siramay: BEHOLD! THEIR TRUE LAIR!!

IMPOSSIBLE THUNDER

…it smells like sadness in here…and a hint of gin.

Then they saw the control room and Aoi pressed a button summoning a monokuma outside that Makoto saw

Is that...Monokuma?

Siramay: he’s defenseless quick boop his nose!

Makoto: wah-

Siramay: come on give him cuddles I know you want to!

Makoto: Ngres-no!

Makoto said flustered.

Needless to say Aoi was controlling the monokuma then Makoto went back in the lair then Aoi wanted to leave the room after Makoto had an epiphany about monokuma being controlled.

Siramay: wait before you go let me do something.

Makoto: what are you going to do?

Siramay: um let me just… where’s the announcers…. OH HERE! then siramay set down a recorder as an old fashion song started playing (its not that old it came out in the 70s) that’s over 40 years ago! (Hm… I guess it is)

Makoto: what are you playing.

Siramay: David bowies heroes this is the 6-minute version to! just wanna give some good sportsmanship.

Makoto: so can we-

Siramay: no if we leave zetsu will turn of the song we need to wait.

Makoto: but that’s 6 minutes.

Siramay: yes it is

… so six minutes passed, and the song finished.

Siramay: ok we can leave now! also howed you think of the song?

Makoto: … I guess it was nice.

Siramay: you should see the other songs she has on her soundtrack.

Then once Makoto left the data center as a whole was locked then monokuma showed up.

Monokuma: Of course it's locked! Because the data center is now restricted!

Siramay: hey mono did you enjoy the David bowie music?

Monokuma: NO! it was terrible!

Siramay: haha you’re lying.

So anyway monokuma stated how they locked It so they could move again, that’s fair. So Makoto tried to ease Aoi on this as they kept moving forward and Aoi was planning to tell the others what they saw.

So then Makoto went to the headmasters room and bayakuya was there as well, byakuya found the class 78 (there class) student registry which talked more about MUUKKURROOOO BABY GIIIRRLLL

"Mukuro reappeared suddenly, and in the background an entity floats, close but just out of reach. The entity known as...the Ultimate Despair. Right now, I can't be sure if this is a single person, or some kind of group. Whatever it is, Mukuro definitely has some sort of connection to it.

"I have a bad feeling about all this. I need to push forward with my research into the Ultimate Despair. And I need to pay attention to Mukuro's behavior, too. This is just my gut feeling, but I think she's dangerous. Despite the countless battles she must have gone through as a member of Fenrir, when she entered Hope's Peak, she didn't display any signs of battle wounds or scars. That fact alone proves her tremendous skill in battle.

"Naturally, I want to believe in her. She's one of my students, after all. But if I decide she's a danger to the other students I will be forced to take all reasonable measures."

Siramay: mukuro had a big heart that’s for sure, I think I told you everything important on why mukuro did stuff, but she had so much heart she felt she had to follow zetsu side like the brave solder she was following her general even in death because she believed in her, I knew mukuro as king of villains I made sure we were friends! We hanged out a lot, I cared about her a lot I tried to talk her out of this Makoto, but her heart was set in stone she truly deserved better then what happened to her…

Mukuro...was a part of the Ultimate Despair. I don't think there can be any doubt about it now. But...wouldn't that mean Mukuro, and the mastermind were allies? So why...? Why would they kill Mukuro? Plus, even the headmaster seemed to be afraid of what Mukuro was capable of. They would've had to take her completely by surprise to kill her like that... Or...maybe it means the mastermind is even stronger than Mukuro was...

Siramay: ITS CAUSE SHES A NO-GOOD JERK THAT’S WHY!.... but then again I guess I give her to much or not enough credit see uh the truth Makoto… it was a delusional episode they did it on a whim not even because they wanted to but because they could.

Makoto: what?

Siramay: you know Makoto zetsu has untreated mental illness combined with a problematic alcoholism and spends all there time alone in a dark room its not good for her mental health at all! With all that its no wonder the thoughts in her head would tell her to do it

Makoto: you mean.

Siramay: yeah like! siramay then sets up and builds a Jenga set.

You know Jenga with all the building blocks and how you have to build a tower its like that when your alone so you just build the tower for a solo game but then you finish and you just get that little voice telling you to break the tower and your like “why” and they are just like we can break the tower right now so why don’t we and then your body just flies on berserk instinct mode AS YOU USE YOUR STRENGTH TO BREAK THE TOWER HEARING THE LOUD CRASH OF THE BLOCKS COLAPSING FEELING THE BLOOD RUSHING TO YOUR VAINS YEEEEEEESSSSSS but then its over its calm as you have destroyed all that hard work for nothing and its like “WHAT HAVE I DONE I destroyed the only thing I ever loved! Why did I do that! They never did anything wrong! I RUIN EVERYTHING!!” then siramay roles into ball sucking his thumb.

So yeah it’s kinda like that you know?

Makoto: I’ve never had that experience.

Siramay: well your loss so anyway it’s like that, had a wrong thought at the wrong time and she suffered for it, poor mukuro all those years of love and loyalty down the drain… I’m sorry.

There was also a picture of mukuro.

Siramay: isn’t she a beaut! OH YES I REMEMBER! she had a pet wolf named frank!

Makoto: frank?

Siramay: well Fenrir would be to on the nose frank was a good boy he ate the corpses of their victims.

Makoto: oh…

Siramay: he was a sweetie though sadly due to the… stuff I can’t say she had to let him go I hopes he’s ok OH WAIT and so with a flash of magic a big grey wolf appeared in siramays arms the snout of it was stained with dried blood as it started to growl.

Frank: GROOOWWLLLLL

Makoto: ah!

Siramay: hey frank its ok it’s me!

Then the wolf took a second to look at the dragon as his demeanor changed entirely as he started happily panting and wagging his tail. At this siramay started petting frank

Awe I’m sorry buddy but uh, your mommy mukuro is no longer with us.

Siramay said with a sadness before blushing heavily and awkwardly laughing.

Mommy mukuro hahahahah

But then he straitened himself out

But don’t worry! She trust me so I’ll take care of you buddy!

Then frank snuggled siramay for a bit before disappearing.

So cute, but anyway as byakuya was saying.

He talked about her size and measurements and such, but Makoto was just confused.

Siramay: S.O.S she's in disguise S.O.S she's in disguise There's a she wolf in disguise…

Makoto: ?

Siramay: think about it Makoto it will become clear eventually.

So byakuya was hinting stuff about the body (cause no one can ever just tell Makoto things ugh) then he warned him about Kyoko not that it really meant anything unless byakuya had some repressed gay for Makoto and was just jealous of Kyoko witch would be fair but to bad for you Ritchie rich cause he aint gonna be your man in this story, or series so Makoto finally left the headmasters room then Makoto went to the bio lab in witch he realized it was also a morgue for the dead bodies then Makoto went to the garden and realized the body was gone when he tried to search for it and saw the tarp in the tool shed he found out the tarp originated from the bio lab then after that he revisited the dojo but that was useless but after Makoto left a monokuma announcement played stating that he would give a hint to those who head in the gym so Makoto went on his way and saw hiro who was absolutely frightened anyway Makoto went in and monokuma showed him an envelope with a picture of the class 78 in it

Siramay: daw you all look so happy.

And while I could go on and on about the picture Makoto was kicked out of the gym and Makoto wanted to clear up the pictures with the others which is what he would have done if everyone didn’t reject to talk to him

Siramay: welp that sucks.

Makoto: I know

Siramay: if it helps I got a picture to

Makoto: they gave you a picture?

Siramay: well no but actually yes, I just have a habit of taking little nick knack souvenirs of my adventures and this was one of them so I guess I could show yah here.

Siramay said wrapping his left hand around Makoto to show him a picture but due to the way he was holding it his thumb was covering junkos face (because of course I was)

Siramay: look at you guys you’re all so happy its just seeing moments like this brings a tear to my eye.

Siramay said wiping his face.

Makoto: um siramay can you move your hand a bit?

Siramay: no

And with that siramay crushed the picture in his hand and burned it till it was ashes… (why did I do that? :(   )

Anyway while looking he went back to the bio lab, and toko laid there passed out, then they woke up as jack, so ham ensued, but they left and one of the fridge/morgue/corpse tanks where open oh and look Kyoko’s here to! And they were going to close it Kyoko decided to investigate it because it was mukuro so as Kyoko investigated Makoto asked about photo, but Kyoko admitted she didn’t see them (witch I guess is fair but seems like a disadvantage) I mean the mastermind may be unreasonable but there fairly unreasonable.

I wish I could go back and do the same thing, but what's done is done, I guess... Standing here looking at her...I don't think she's hiding anything from me. Is she right? Did the mastermind forge that picture as a trap to confuse us? That's gotta be it. There's no other explanation...

Siramay: you know Makoto, some good advice I give to my villains is that sometimes the best lie is the truth.

Makoto: huh?

Siramay: I’m just saying I usually don’t tell this to heroes, but I feel like its something you should know.

And when looking at the morgue Makoto realized with mukuro there where only 9 lights which was odd since “10” people died

Siramay: I assure you Makoto it’s not cause mondo is butter he’s right here!

Siramay said opening one of the boxes to show inside a refrigerated box of butter.

Makoto: DAH!

Siramay: yeah…. good thing I don’t like butter.

And so siramay closed it and after rechecking the tarps Kyoko was done and summarized what she learned from fondling mukuros body stating how her old wounds are in fact very important as they are her true death then they talked about her personals.

Siramay: geez you guys are so adamant about her vitals and junk, oh how weird that it.

Makoto: you literally know avid details about her past.

Siramay: yeah but I’m an all-powerful being that’s different.

Needless to say they confirmed mukuro was mukuro then Kyoko wanted to leave but Makoto wanted to at least close mukuros grave to honor her even if she was evil he still felt bad at her death, so they closed the grave together… then he asked about the pocketbook witch shocked Kyoko who gave Makoto a video that’s important.

Kyoko: But there's one thing I *am* sure of. When it comes to the mastermind, there's no room in my heart for forgiveness. I swore to destroy the mastermind. This is just one more reason to follow through on that.

…why did that hurt? anyway she talked about truth and hope and stuff then she left.

And siramay reopened mukuros grave

Makoto: why did you do that?

Siramay: I’m a grieving man to Makoto, and while I’ll admit my feelings for your other classmates went nearly as strong as yours I can say the truth that I feel 10 times the pain you do from her death and while you have properly grieved I have not, so just continue investigating and I’ll stay here for a bit don’t worry I can close it myself, but can’t you do that? Can’t you let a mourning man spend just a few more minutes grieving someone?

Makoto: … actually yeah I understand siramay, its ok just make sure to meet me when you’re done.

Siramay: of course

And with that Makoto left the room and when he was absolutely gone siramay grabbed mukuros course from the morgue and used his magic to tear a portal from the fabric of the world then I look at you

Siramay: this is what we creators call foreshadowing ;)

And with that I jumped into the portal with mukuros body in tow Afterall it was my duty as king to make sure she had a happy ending, but that would be another story for another time.

…

And so Makoto went to the av room to watch the cd Kyoko gave which was a vid of the headmaster talking to all the students asking them if it was ok to stay here forever in which every last one said yes even himself course before it could get to you know who the monitor went black.

Siramay who is behind Makoto eating popcorn and wearing 3d glasses.

Siramay: OH COME ON IT WAS GETTING TO THE BEST PART!

Makoto: AH!

Oh and monokuma was there to

Makoto: AH!2

Who basically is the reason the power cut off but of course he lied about the whole thing?

Makoto: Failure my ass! You cut the power on purpose!

Siramay: language Makoto!

Makoto: BUTT!

Then Makoto realized their memories might have been messed with

And then it was time for the trial

Monokuma: For anything that has a start, there has to be an end. And if the end comes, then that means it's time for a fresh start. There is no night that doesn't have a dawn... Although that dawn is totally pitch-black! There is no storm that won't eventually end... Of course, then that leads to drought! But as I said, every end is the promise of a new beginning. Which is why I'm sure we'll get to meet again. Because the end is only the beginning! We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day Keep smiling through Just like you always do 'Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away So will you please say hello To the folks that I know Tell them I won't be long They'll be happy to know That as you saw me go I was singing this song. We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day Keep smiling through Just like you always do ‘til the blue skies Drive the dark clouds far away So will you please say hello To the folks that I know Tell them it won't be long They'll be happy to know That as you saw me go I was singin' this song We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

 Anyway, let's get started! The beginning of the end of the class trial! Everyone gather once again at you know where! Puhuhuhuhu! Puhuhu!

It's about to begin again... The class trial...is going to start. The final class trial... The last time all our lives will be on the line... The last time hope and despair are on the line... I don't have a choice. I have to do this... Okay, then! This is the end...!

Siramay: ah well it seems like you are here, the final battle the great climatic show down where they will be defeated and you will conquer, that’s… great…

Makoto: siramay?

Siramay: yeah?

Makoto: you sound sad if you need to tell you know you can talk to me.

Siramay: oh no, no Makoto its nothing really

Makoto: is it about zetsu?

Siramay: …

Makoto: if there’s anything else you have to say about her before the trial please tell me.

Siramay: no, no its not like that its just… you know it’s not like I woke up one day and decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life helping villains no that’s silly, you see uh I don’t know if I was just born like that or if I some how grew it in me, but I seem to have a natural empathy for villains.

Makoto: what?

Siramay: its true I can’t help but feel bad for them but not just bad but feel their pain all together in here he points to his heart I can just tell I feel this great squeezing in my heart when they suffer it hurts so much to see them hurt and since I have the power to help them shouldn’t I give them happiness where no one else could? I guess it’s weird but it’s true I feel their pain and that’s a fact.

Makoto: so what your saying is-

Siramay: they had a father figure you know.

Makoto: huh?

Siramay: yeah there bio dad was a jerk but that man who may not have been her dad by blood but he was her dad in heart he gave her the love no one else ever really could when she needed it most, sadly he also gave her the idea to be evil, but he wasn’t a bad man just crazy and lonely and he wanted to make her happy and thought that would help, they didn’t learn their lesson till it was to late, but maybe its not to late for zetsu

Makoto: … what are you saying?

Siramay: I knew this man Makoto; he was my friend and he cared for her more then anything else in his life. That’s why even though I hate her guts with all of mine… my heart can’t afford not to care…

[SIRAMAY] There was a boy. A very strange, enchanted boy

They say he wandered very far. Very far over land and sea

A little shy and sad of eye But very wise, was he

And then one day One magic day he passed my way. While we spoke of many things Fools and kings This he said to me

The greatest thing You'll ever learn Is just to love. And be loved In return

[SIRAMAY (MAKOTO)] The greatest thing (the greatest thing) You'll ever learn (you'll ever learn) Is just to love (love)

[BOTH] And be loved In return …

Makoto: so you’re saying they are hurting, and I should show them mercy.

Siramay: NO THEY’RE CRAZY AND THEY NEED TO GO DOWN! But I'm the king of villains.... so I just can’t help but feel bad for them... But don’t let my feelings blind you do what you think is best I won’t get in the way....

[kidsviral-blog]

#Cut4Bieber hoax escalates, with trolls spreading memorials for ‘victims’

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/cut4bieber-hoax-escalates-with-trolls-spreading-memorials-for-victims/

#Cut4Bieber hoax escalates, with trolls spreading memorials for ‘victims’

http://twitter.com/#!/RememberAddison/status/288456209814650880

As Twitchy reported, a sick hoax started by Internet trolls eventually led to the hashtag #cut4bieber trending on Twitter today. Before the hashtag and the associated photos were revealed as a hoax, many reacted with shock and concern. Singer and former Disney Channel superstar Miley Cyrus retweeted a message urging people not to joke about the cutting phenomenon.

That tweet from @OfficialCANCER has since been retweeted more than 25,000 times, seemingly reflecting the views of a lot of people who were outraged by the hoax.

#cutforbieber is sick to me. cutting is a serious health problems and some people have to struggle with it. It’s no joke, take it seriously.

— Dεstiny Gillεspiε ♥ (@DestinyJasmyne) January 8, 2013

Basically by you ‘cutting for Bieber’ is you making a joke out of everyone who self harms . You’re cruel and heartless if you participate .

— Christine the Empire (@_Darkest_Hour_) January 8, 2013

Did I just see #cutforbeiber…. cutting is not something to joke about, ever. People have this struggle every single day. How dare you.

— Hailey (@iloveshawnnn22) January 8, 2013

Ok this cutting for bieber thing is disgusting. It is NOT something to be taken lightly. People really deal with this. Its not a joke. Stop.

— Emily Harder (@EmilyHarder) January 8, 2013

America, you’re stupid. Cutting isn’t funny, or something to joke about for attention.

— ℤαккαяу✩ (@ZakkOfHarts) January 7, 2013

I spent 6 months trying to get over cutting and it was the worst period of my life, now people are turning it into a joke.

— 219DAYS 😀 (@InternetHomo) January 7, 2013

Whoever started the #cutforbieber trend should probably realize that cutting is a real, serious issue for a lot of people. Y’all are sick.

— Amaris Franks (@amarisfranks) January 8, 2013

Cut For Bieber, are you serious right now? I happen to have a serious issue with self harm, and so don’t others, stop. #Cut4Bieber

— Cathleen Elizabeth (@Anchorsaway15) January 8, 2013

#cutforbieber is SICK trend ok? I was cutting myself about 2 years it’s seriously nothing to joke about. Let’s trend #RespectForBieber

— Believing in Justin♥ (@JustinAdoresMe) January 7, 2013

Is it funny? No. Do trolls care? No. Attention is what matters, so why not leapfrog off of the success of #Cut4Bieber by adding some “victims”? Here’s a screenshot from the 4Chan boards announcing the launch of #Justice4Jazzy. The associated photo of the late Mary “Jazzy” Richards, though, is the mug shot of 14-year-old Cassidy Goodson, who was charged with strangling her newborn. Hilarious, huh? Trolls would also like you to @RememberAddison.

Earlier today, in part with the #Cut4Bieber trend, Addison Smith died of blood loss. This Twitter is a haven to of which to remember her by.

— Remember Addison (@RememberAddison) January 8, 2013

@rememberaddison I hope you are staying strong through this tragedy. #RememberAddison #Justice4Jazzy

— HDerpity (@HDerpity) January 8, 2013

Mary Jazzy Richards has also been confirmed dead. #Justice4Jazzy #RememberAddison #cut4bieber

— вяιαииє νι¢тσяια (@McCheerleader) January 8, 2013

This whole justin bieber prank went way too out of hand. Hope your proud if killing 2 plus more people. 👏 #RememberAddison #Justice4Jazzy

— GirlThings (@GirlThingsxoxx) January 8, 2013

Everybody head over and like the Justice4Jazzy Facebook page so we can spread her name and give her the justice she deserves #Justice4Jazzy

— HDerpity (@HDerpity) January 8, 2013

Sadly, despite the reality of self-harm, some just couldn’t help themselves from making a joke of the whole sick trend. Why? Because Justin Bieber is involved. It’s hard to believe that something as ugly as this hoax could be made uglier, but this is a tough crowd.

#cutforbieberCutting is not a joke, unless it’s Beliebers that are doing it, then its pretty funny

— Danno (@DanTheTweeter92) January 7, 2013

Justin Bieber should keep smoking, but because he’s single handily is killing his fans off. continue the good work

— Michael Valle (@JETLife720) January 8, 2013

If you’re cutting yourself for bieber, continue until you fucking die please because with that stupidity you don’t deserve a living body.

— Kyle Chase (@ChaseGod55) January 8, 2013

If I discovered my daughter was cutting herself over Justin Bieber I’d travel back in time and scrape her off my uterus with a Brillo pad.

— VICE VISCERA (@SodomyClown) January 8, 2013

If i saw my daughter cut herself over Justin Bieber I would walk over to her, grab the blade and cut her head off.

— Luke Sinden (@LukeSinden) January 8, 2013

If my daughter cut herself for bieber I’d put her up for adoption

— Tom Baker (@_tombaker1) January 7, 2013

If I had a teenage daughter and she was cutting herself over bieber, I’d fucking cut her neck no joke . . .

— SihamMalik (@siham_malik93) January 8, 2013

“No joke” is right.

https://twitter.com/ThatBoneyKid/status/288480349628030978

Read more: http://twitchy.com/2013/01/07/sick-cut4bieber-hoax-escalates-with-trolls-spreading-memorials-for-two-dead-victims/