#a few year ago everyone went fucking crazy and there was a shit load of line just so they can get a bear of their choice

[chewysgummies]

Okay yeah no- Bye👋😭

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 9

Wordcount: 8,831

"This the place?" You mumbled as you and Randy drove down an old back road near Woodsboro you never even heard of. You weren't at Woodsboro long but you still couldn't believe you had never even heard this old road existed. Especially on all those rides or hangouts years ago!...Well...That is, before Billy and Stu went crazy on everyone. It was definitely off the beaten path with tree lines on either side of the road and no houses.

"Looks like it." Randy replied as he pulled up to an old but long gravel driveway where cars as far as the eye could see lined the yard and a big barn with a few smaller barns surrounding it. Teens coming and going. A 'Stab-a-Thon' banner on the biggest barn with lights and Stab props all over the place.

"Holy shit." You mouthed out as he pulled up and parked in an open area where you couldn't be blocked in. Every teen in Woodsboro had to be here right now!

He shut the car off and told you with a slight smirk. "Yeah, too bad the owners were alive and lived here when we were teens or else parties would've definitely been happening here in the 90's." He lost the smirk and sighed. "Sure, we're gonna do this?"

You huffed, smacking your hands in your lap. "I didn't want to! You're the one that insisted we come here!-"

"Okay, okay!" He exclaimed with a huff. "Alright, we stick together. We find Kirby. We get out...Seems simple enough, right?"

"...And what if Kirby IS the killer? Then what?"

Randy cringed with a shrug. "Well...Wouldn't be the first time someone close to us was the killer. Regardless, we gotta try. Besides I have the feeling we'd be dead at the house if we stayed and this was our only real option anyway."

"Yeah, what was that noise anyways? Could've been a racoon but...Still...I really think we just need to go to the police station and wait it out or say fuck it and drive endlessly tonight!...Something is off about tonight.... It's the final act..."

Randy looked at you with wide eyes and mumbled. "You feel it too? That impending doom feeling?"

"Yeah, I do which is even more of a reason to not fuck around. This shit ends tonight." You checked the bullets in Dewey's revolver he gifted you, making sure it was fully loaded.

Randy whistled. "Okay, glad you're on my team... Time to kick some ass." He gave with a wag of his brows.

You didn't feel good about that but nodded in agreement before you both got out of the car. Looking to hear the music, the dark woods surrounding the lot, the creepy abandoned barns turned Stab fan-mania, the isolation of all the scattered vehicles. You sucked in a shaky breath, gun loaded on your leg and knife in your pocket. It felt like the perfect storm for disaster.

You heard a pop rock type of song blaring and a big bloody photo backdrop as well as red lights inside and Ghostface masks galore.

Randy came up beside you. "Jesus, these kids really went all out. Like fucking Christmas for Horror nerds...Kind of jealous I never thought of this." You slowly turned, giving him a disbelieving look as he huffed out. "What?...This is awesome! You gotta admit it."

You sighed, shaking your head and started moving. A few kids whispered as they saw you but other than that they were too involved in their red cups and the party to give a shit. You and Randy walked around the barn before going in.

"See her?" You whispered.

Randy tsked with a deadpan expression your way. "If I saw her, YN, I'd say it...No, she's inside."

"Oh fine, well let's just go-" You turned and jumped with a yelp, grabbing for the knife in your pocket as another person gasped and stepped back. You groaned and put your knife away when you saw it was Gale.

"Goddamn, what the hell is wrong with you?" Gale huffed out, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

"What the hell is wrong with me- What is wrong with you?! Sneaking up on us like that!"

Gale scoffed. "Hey, I was going my way and you're in my way. Move it-" She shoved past you both.

"So you're gonna do this alone, huh?" You threw out your arms. "Just stalking around, planting cameras and trying to get your next big gig?"

Gale stopped and turned back to you, shoulders square. "Listen here, YN. I am...I was..." She struggled to get it out. "I miscalculated in my first book, okay?! And I should have pulled out of the court deal, okay, I'll admit it! I was wrong." She leaned forward, whispering harshly to you. "...But I am making sure I get it right this time."

You scowled and shook your head. "Gale...This isn't the way to do it. This is a bad idea and you know it...You're gonna get yourself killed over fame." She turned and you yelled after her. "You're not invincible, Gale! IN FACT, you're being stupid!"

She flipped you both off, putting on a mask and going in.

Randy rolled his eyes. "Forget her. We'll just have to drag her out dead or alive; cavalry to the fucking rescue."

You sighed but nodded. Gale was out of your control now. "Okay...But you better keep that attitude with Kirby too. If she doesn't come with us; we leave regardless. Like, 10 minutes from now max; we get in that car and we drive either out of town. Laws be damned or go to the police station and stay there till sunrise."

He nodded as you both finally walked inside. The music was loud and kids were dancing or talking. It wasn't long before you were spotted by none other than Charlie and Robbie as they handed you both red cups.

Charlie smiled. "YN! Randy!...I see you found our little shindig. Whaddya think?"

Robbie put an arm around Randy with that geadset on blinking in Randy's face."Isn't it perfect?"

Randy glared at him and moved away from Robbie. "Great, kid. It's a pretty decent party for an old timer like me."

Robbie tilted his head with a chuckle. "Oh come on, we were just joking!...How uh...How did you find this anyways? Just curious."

"We're looking for Kirby. Have you seen her?" You cut him off.

They shook their heads with goofy looks on their faces and you knew they were lying. Just not wanting Kirby to leave for whatever reason.

You grabbed Randy, shoving your cup on the table and leaving. "Come on, Randy."

"Yeah, let's go. Wouldn't wanna cramp you kids' style or anything!" Randy jeered over his shoulder before mumbling. "Little assholes."

He went to drink and you smacked the cup outta his hand. "DON'T. I don't trust them one bit not to drug us or something."

His eyes widened in realization. "Holy shit...You actually knew a horror rule before I did! I feel like you need a golden star sticker on your forehead or something." He joked with a smirk.

"...Let's just try and spot Kirby." You huffed, both of you reaching the corner of the barn as you felt anxiety hitting. The noise, crowd, everyone in a Ghostface mask. You felt like a caged animal and wanted OUT. "Ray, can't you call her or something?!"

"I don't have her number."

"Look her up on facebook or something! Message her."

Randy looked at you with wide eyes. "Damn smarty pants, got it!" He went to get his phone and furiously felt his pockets. "Fuck."

"What?"

"My phone's missing!"

"Did you leave it in the car??"

"No, negative. I definitely had it when we walked in. Shit."

You nodded and got your phone out. "Alright, let's not panic. I'll just call it. If you got it on silent, I swear to God-" You dialed Randy's number, seeing if you could hear it but couldn't over everyone talking and the music.

Randy ran a hand over his hair. "YN, we gotta find it! I don't have a password or anything and my wife is on there! What if the killer gets it and-"

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, okay, breathe. It'll be alright...We'll find it."

"Find what?"

You both turn to see Kirby. A red cup in hand as she smiled. "About time you guys made it here. I was beginning to think you all were gonna stay home."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Kirby, we came here to get you."

She came closer with an odd look. "Me? Why?"

Randy huffed. "Why? Kid, because this is act 3. The killers are gonna strike at this party and you need to get out of here."

She rolled her lips but you chimed in as you told her. "I'm so serious, Kirby. We've been through this 3 times now...Multiple people in your circle or ours are dying tonight especially at this party. Just please, let's go. We can all go back home, you can stay with Jill or go to the police station with us but we need to get the fuck out of here."

She stared a moment, seeing how serious you both were before nodding. You smiled in relief as she nodded. "Okay...Okay, whatever. This party is lame anyways and the movie hasn't even started. Besides, fucking Trevor won't leave me alone. He keeps hounding me for info on Jill."

"Stay away from him." Randy warned. "He is my number one suspect other than either someone on Dewey's police force or Charlie and Robbie."

Kirby smirked. "So, four contenders then?" You all went to walk.

"Looks like it. One problem." You told her. "Randy dropped his phone somewhere in the barn...I say he just leaves it and gets it shut off by the phone company or something." You grumbled.

Randy huffed with an eyeroll. "I will IF I can't find it. 5 minutes of searching and then we'll go."

Kirby nodded. "I can help with that."

They walked ahead of you and you gasped when someone's shoulder clipped yours. You both locked eyes on each other, time slowing down as you saw those impossibly dark eyes widen in surprise as he saw you. He had on a leather jacket and his hair back a bit like what he had in High School. He instantly grabbed you and dragged you close to him, back facing Randy as he hissed out. "You dumbass, what the fuck are you doing here?!"

You spat out low with the same outrage on your face as well. "Firstly dickhead, what the fuck are you doing here?! Is Stu-"

"Shh! Yes, now get out! We have a suspect and we're watching him and we don't need you getting in the goddamn way."

"Who?"

Billy exhaled through his nostril, lips in a thin line. "...Not here. I don't want to say it here where he's probably got a rat listening in."

"I can't leave Randy!"

"It'll only take a moment! As long as Meek Geek stays in the center of the barn with that girl there; he's fine."

You looked back to see him and Kirby talking while looking. In the lights where a killer would have to be stupid to attack him. Billy turned so a barn pillar obscured him as you shouted to Randy. "I gotta go find Gale real quick!"

Randy exclaimed. "What?! I'll go-"

"No, stay with Kirby! I'm the most armed, I'll be fine! Be back in 5."

You hated lying but you needed to know this new killer so you could end this before they ended you or someone you cared about. To your surprise, Billy grabbed your jacket sleeve near your wrist to lead you out of the crowd.

Randy threw up his arms in exasperation as you left...His brows furrowed as he caught a glimpse of the man you were with. Realization dawned on him as not only a bit of anger over you lying seeped in but that deep anxious thought that Dewey shoved into his brain earlier...Who was this man you were clearly seeing? Why was it a secret?

✦

Billy took you outside where Stu stood near a barn in the dark, a surprised look on his face as he exclaimed. "Sweetcheeks! Whaddya doing here?!"

Billy finally let go of your sleeve as you told them. "Kirby Reed. Me and Randy came here to get Kirby and get out...We heard something at Randy's house and had to come here."

Stu scoffed with a comical look on his face. "You risked your life for some teenage girl that's probably dead meat anyways?"

You glared. "You don't know that and she's like a little sister to Randy, okay!? Now we're just looking for Randy's phone that somehow fell out of his pocket."

Billy shook his head, arms folded. "Killer did it. Can guarantee it. It's a trap and you idiots are falling for it."

You nod before you swore you saw Gale and ducked, shoving them both to the nearby smaller barn. "I get that but first; We can't talk in the open like this!"

They agreed as you went to a smaller barn where you all were greeted by a teen couple doing it on a hay bale. You blinked in surprise and Stu chuckled.

Billy rolled his eyes and ordered them. "Alright, get out. Go fuck in the car or something."

The teen guy got off the girl. "Or what, asshole? You gonna do something?"

Billy got that deadly smirk on his face and you instantly grabbed the girl and shoved her out as she yelped and tried putting her pants back on. "Get the hell out of here! Now." You demanded, trying to save these stupid kids lives from two serial killers.

The guy still stood tall glaring at Billy like he had a death wish. "Or what? You can't hit me, I'm 17! I'm a minor! I can hit you though-" He reeled his arm back.

The hit never came as he gasped from Stu picked him up by the shirt collar and dragging him with a smirk. Walking him like a dog out the barn as the guy was struggling to keep up.

"Nah, that's just a minor offense, bitch." Before tossing the kid out and seeing him roll a few feet on the grass before shutting the door. You gave him a look, trying not to smirk as he threw his hands up. "What? We're alone now, aren't we?" He shoved a heavy metal container at the door so it would take a harsh shove to open it.

Billy smirked a bit before getting serious again. Looking at your face. His brows furrowed as he pointed at your cheek. "...That from an attack by this new killer?"

You touched the bruise on your face as Stu whistled. "Yeah, babe. Did the killer give you that shiner or do I gotta kick Randy's ass?"

You huffed with an eye roll.. "Please, Ray would never...No, someone's Mom did this; believe it or not. An angry mob of parents formed outside the school today wanting to attack me because where I go, the killer goes. Everyone would be fine if I was dead at this point because to them that means no more kills. No more Final Girl; no more Ghostface. "

Billy huffed. "That's...Damn." He didn't seem to know what to say.

You lightly glared at him. "You should be elated, Billy. Isn't this what you wanted? If I don't die then I have my life ruined. Can't even go outside without someone threatening me."

He faltered, eyes narrowed as he frowned but said nothing. You shook his head and told you. "Let's get to the fucking point. Some kid named Trevor Sheldon is definitely Ghostface. He's been stalking around here, stalking near Randy's house. It's obviously him...Kill him, we'll be home free."

You rolled your eyes. "Not saying he ISN'T the killer but he's not stalking Randy's house. He's stalking the Neighbors; Jill Roberts."

He raised a brow and Stu leaned against a pillar with a perplexed look on his face as he asked. "Jill? Who the hell is that?"

"A teen girl that's friends with Kirby, Charlie, Robbie and that Olivia who got killed. She's apart of this new group that we think might be the targets. Trevor is her ex."

Stu mumbled. "Still Suspicious. It's always the boyfriends." He gave with a smirk.

You hummed a bit. "... Something feels deeper than that. If it is Trevor, he has help...Randy thinks it's Charlie and Robbie; the film nerds that hosted this party. Anyone who hosts a party during the final act is suspicious." You pointed at Stu who grinned.

Stu chuckled. "Guilty. It was a real Scream too, huh baby?"

You lightly glared at him before turning to Billy. "I think we're dealing with a Franchise like Randy says-"

Billy rolled his eyes and interrupted. "Who cares? Just tell us the suspects already."

You huffed but listed on your finger tips. "Trevor Sheldon...Charlie Walker and Robbie Mercer...Judy Hicks."

Stu raised a brow." Judy?...Judy Hicks?...She sounds familiar."

"She apparently went to school with us and now she's a deputy here in Woodsboro. "

Billy huffed in mild amusement. "A cop as the killer? That's a first. But if she knew us in school, she's definitely a suspect. That actress in Hollywood all over again."

"Yeah well, it's 2011. The most outrageous ideas don't seem too crazy anymore and you're right; she has the motivation."

Billy shook his head, going to say something when the barn door opened. You all jumped as you heard someone shove the metal container away with force. Clearly determined to get inside...They went to hide in the barn till whoever kicked it. They knew you were in there and determined to get in. You all got on alert, thinking the killer was ballsy enough to do it. Billy and Stu hid in opposite direction.

...

Time slowed, your heart thumping in your ears as you felt your face twist in horror. The voice made your heart drop to your stomach and a chill ran down your spine...

"Okay, YN. I found my phone so let's go!" Randy scowled as he stood in the doorway. Throwing his arms up with a bewildered look. "What the hell are you doing out here for?"

You swallowed hard, trying to look calm. "Looking for Gale, she's not here...So we can go."

You went to go to the door before asking him with an odd look. "Why the fuck are you practically kicking the door down to get in for anyways? I could've shot you thinking you were the killer!"

Randy gave you an annoyed look before sighing heavily and closing the door behind him as you raised a brow.

You asked. "...What are you doing? We need to leave."

"No, first we need to talk. This place seems safe enough I guess..." He was struggling more than Stu but still putting that metal container in front of the door. Ge stood back up fully and frowned. "I barged in because I'm irked right now, YN...I'm disappointed and pissed and a little hurt, honestly. You're lying to me...Gale's not here and you knew that...You're not looking for Gale, are you?" He folded his arms with a raised brow.

You stared trying so hard to keep your nerves in check. "W-What?" You forced yourself not to look at Billy behind the hay bale and Stu behind the pillar. "Lying?"

"Yeah, lying!...YN..." He sighed again, seeming to dread it himself before gesturing to you with a glare. "Look...I didn't want to bring it up but I'm kind of bothered by it more than I thought. Especially with you lying to me AGAIN at a time like thid!"

"Again?!...What are you talking about, Randy?"

"...Dewey showed me the photo... I know."

"Ph-Photo?" You drew out, genuinely confused but getting a bit nervous.

"Yeah...There's no easy way to say it but apparently, you lied to us a decade ago and you're lying to us now." You felt a sweat break out on your palms and a chill down your back as he continued. "Dewey found a picture of you with two men in your motel room at the crime scene where Neil was staying. Now I told him it's none of our business and it's not! But now he has evidence you went and saw these same men last night...You snuck out while I was gone and lied to me about it."

You barely heard him, your ears were ringing and your body was frozen in place.

"Now, why lie? Especially for a whole decade! Look, if these guys are booty calls or you're in some brother husband poly type of thing or they deal you drugs or something; you don't need to hide it! You could've gotten hurt! I just can't imagine you hiding these guys from us unless they're bad news or you're that scared of how we'd react which kind of sucks. Just...Just tell me the truth."

You swallowed, brain still stuck on the factor that could ruin everything as you mumble, "Dewey...Has evidence?"

"Yeah, he does. No more lying, okay? Just be real with me right now."

"T-T-Theyre my...The ones a mechanic and the other is um a friend-"

Randy gave you a disappointed look. "And you're lying again...I thought it was crazy but...That guy is Dennis Rafkin, isn't he? You hooked up with that actor on Stab 3. He's uncanny in the picture and it would explain why you acted weird watching Scooby Doo the other night."

You couldn't keep a pokerface at that and you knew Stu was probably sweating bullets too...Randy knew too much. What do you do? What do you say?

Randy pouted a bit. "And the other guy? Is he really your mechanic that you keep calling?...Or is that a lie too?" His eyes widen in realization. "...He's hiding in here, isn't he? HEY! HEY, COME OUT! I'M SERIOUS! WE CAN MEET AND GET THIS OVER WITH AND MOVE ON WITH MORE IMPORTANT SHIT AT HAND HERE!" He yelled out so the 'mystery man' could hear.

You shhed him, panicking now. Because Billy and Stu WERE nuts enough to pop out just to kill him. You couldn't contain the panic. "RANDY! What I do is none of anyone's fucking business and...Even though I DIDN'T do that; what if I decided to met a fling out here for some quick bang?!"

"Uuh...BECAUSE THE RULES, STUPID! I have nothing against comfort sex but not right fucking now when a killer is on the loose! My God, what if he's the killer? Ever think of that? You making us worry by getting some in the barn with a potential suspect?...I DON'T CARE IF YOU HEAR IT BY THE WAY, BUDDY! You're a SUSPECT!!" He yelled out with a sneer.

"Randy, just...Stop! Okay, you have your life here in Woodsboro and I have mine. I'm sorry for lying and I'll tell you one day but not right now...But no one is here! I didn't meet a guy here, damn it!" You couldn't help getting angry out of blind panic taking over you. You wanted him out of this barn..NOW. "Goddamn it, let's just go, okay?! We can argue in the safety of the car."

Randy glared before giving a condescending smirk. "Okay, FINE! Even though you're lying again and I SAW you walk out here with him! God, do you think I'm dumb or-" He turned before he tripped over a pitchfork on the ground. You saw it was near Stu who tried to move away but hit a lantern hanging off the pillar. Randy saw him, huffing in anger, clearly thinking he was just some guy or Dennis till his eyes traveled up with Stu having nowhere to go.

You froze...You saw it on Randy's face. 'Dennis' with the Shaggy voice and long hair or wig or whatever could be dismissed...But...Stu's hair, clothing style, his looks...Up close...Randy knew. He knew that wasn't 'Dennis' or just some guy and you felt like your heart was just gonna stop beating.

You all just stood there. Wide eyed, staring at each other. Everyone held their breath as the worst possible thing other than death could happen...You finally all got caught. Billy and Stu tried to hide but it was too late. You all were so careful for so long but you were finally caught. Not only that, but you were caught by an original survivor to Woodsboro. A guy that knew Stu and Billy from childhood practically ... Your mind was racing.

"Oh fuck...fuck...No fucking way-" He mumbled in shock.

You tried stammering out. "I-I-It's Dennis that actor, okay?! You were right, Randy! You were right! I'm sorry!-" You were babbling now, trying to find a way to fix this.

Randy's eyes were saucer plates. Stu just HAD to be Stu. Giving a cringe of a grin. His mannerisms very very Stu Macher. His smile, his teeth, his facial expression...Even without talking; Randy knew.

Stu spoke in that cheesy fake Australian accent, moving forward to try and defuse the situation. "Hey there, mate. Just wait a-" His knee hit the pillar as he moved and hissed out in his normal voice. "Ow, shit man!"

Randy's face widened in horror as he yelled, "OH FUCK!!" Going to run to the door when Stu grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back. Shoving him against the pillar he hid at.

Stu had a sadistic smirk on his face as he told him. "Hold on there, Ray! Let's chat, for old times sakes, pal! It's been 15 years, man." While shoving Randy against the pillar while Billy came out of hiding with a dark look in his eyes.

You instantly whipped your gun out, pointing at Stu as your hand shook with adrenaline. "Let him go! NOW!"

Randy looked white as a ghost when he heard the other voice behind Stu. "He saw our faces, he knows we're alive, I say we have no choice now but to kill him." Billy leered before smirking. "This was a long time coming, Randy. You got lucky with the first shot I gave you...My mistake, kid." As he got his knife out of his jean pocket, twirling the hunting knife in his hand like an expert at this point.

You aimed your gun at Billy as he looked offended before a dark look crossed his face. "You got one pass at Windsor, you aren't getting that pass ever again YN!"

"Yeah? And you're not making threats on our lives, Billy!" You spat out his name accidentally. Cursing under your breath realizing it was all far too late to hide now. You glared right back at him and yelled in a more urgent voice at Stu. "Goddamn it, I said drop him! NOW, Stu!! DROP HIM OR ELSE I SHOOT AND DRAW A LOT OF ATTENTION TO US!"

Stu let him go with a grin, literally dropping Randy like a sack of potatoes and stepping away. Stu and Billy begrudgingly stood back.

Randy stood up, fear and shock on his face as you got closer to him. "Ray...Randy, listen to me." You went to touch his shoulder and he jerked away from you in outrage...Hurt, anger, betrayal, shock all written on his face.

"You..." He shook his head still trying to process all this.

"Ray...Randy, come on. They won't hurt you if I'm here, let's just talk, okay? It's okay!" You tried reasoning. Whether to yourself or him was debatable.

"You...You fucking lied. All these years...All these years you've been fucking lying to everyone!" He growled out with a heavy voice as he backed away, grabbing the nearby pitchfork on the ground as a weapon. "All this time, you were hiding them! All this fucking time!"

Billy and Stu seemed amused by this. Their sadism to this made you grit your teeth as you told Randy, your voice heavy as well. "Randy, I didn't! I swear!"

"Then what the fuck is this?!...Oh my God...Oh my fucking God-" He looked faint, sick, like the worst news he could ever hear was told to him and punched him in the gut with the hurt of it all. That his closest friend was what everyone said she was, that she lied.

"...All this time. All this fucking time." He mumbled, covering his mouth with wide eyes while looking away.

"Randy-"

"And...At Hollywood...The photo was them! The other night was them!...Windsor? Oh Jesus Christ...Jesus Chrriisstt!" He looked ready to have a breakdown as he yelled it out.

You felt burning in your throat as you softly told him. "Randy...No. Not Windsor."

He shook his head with a pained look and wide eyes. "And when we dated...A-And I thought your feelings were occupied with Derek and that's why you seemed distant and I wanted to just be friends when really...I was right and your feelings were for....Oh, God I think I'm gonna be sick." He clutched his stomach supporting his weight on the pitchfork. Utter shock and devastation on his face.

"Ray, just calm down a second-"

He jerked around to yell at you. "Don't tell me to be calm about this, YN! You've been lying for 15 fucking years! Our whole 'friendship' you hid this from me and you want me to be calm?! You've been lying since the beginning!"

"It has NOT been 15 years!" You desperately yelled back.

"The hell it hasn't!" His voice was deeper than normal, so distraught over the information bombarding him...He looked up at you with a devastated glare. "...You were in on it, weren't you? Gale was right...You helped them. You..You helped kill our friends." I growled out, teeth geitted and pain on his face.

"No, no listen!" You held up a hand with wide eyes and a deep frown on your face. Feeling like you might cry with your eyes burning. "I did not lie at Woodsboro, okay? I swear to God! I swear on my life, on anything, I did not lie to you about Woodsboro! I didn't kill our friends! I didn't help them!...Randy, you know me. Please, you know me." You felt your voice cracking, tears in your eyes over how one of the few people you had in life was looking at you now.

He huffed and shook his head, putting a hand over his mouth before narrowing his eyes. "Oh, okay...The liar claims she didn't help them. So when EXACTLY did you start hiding the fact YOUR FRIENDS MURDERERS ARE ALIVE?!" He shouted.

Stu huffed. "So dramatic-"

"STOP!" You screamed at him behind your shoulder, gun still in hand as he and Billy looked a bit shocked at that. "Can't you give me the most basic human decency of letting me talk to him without your smartass remarks?! Just this once?!" You felt the tears starting to form in your eyes as you felt backed in a corner.

They both stared in surprise but said nothing. Faces souring as you turned back to Randy.

Randy gritted his teeth and forced it out again. "How...Long?"

You stared at Randy, cringing inwardly at the number you had to say. "...10 years."

"...10 freaking years." He repeated in disbelief huffing with his brows up and a bitter smirk on his face.

You looked down with a hard swallow and a frown. "...Technically, 13...If...We're counting how long I knew they were alive..."

He threw up his arm and walked away from you with the pitchfork in one hand and a hand over his head. Close to breaking down. "Wowww...Fucking wow."

"I tried telling you at Windsor but you didn't believe me! I tried to fucking tell you all!"

Randy shook his head. "Oh, so I didn't believe you one time and you just decide to never mention it again?!...And they're here, and you're meeting up with them, and talking to them!"

You rushed over to him to talk to him closer, keeping a foot of distance no matter how much you wanted to hug him and beg him for forgiveness as your best friend. "Listen to me Randy. When you confessed to me at Windsor behind the building, you know, before you were attacked? I wasn't lying! I was attacked by them and I wanted them caught!...But...After that night, Stu helped me and Billy left and things just...Changed."

He shook his head with scrunched brows. "W-What? That doesn't even make any-" His face fell in realization as he pointed at you. "...It was them, wasn't it? Tim and James were fucking Billy Loomis and Stu Macher; you were fighting them on that stage and they killed Derek and-"

"No!...No. " You held up a hand trying so hard to tell the truth while keeping him from exploding. "Mickey and Halie and Billy's Mom killed that couple at the theater and Cici and Derek, Mrs. Loomis attacked you and me, Halie killed Louis and Murphy. Billy and Stu killed no one that time-"

Randy's face contorted in an outraged smile that faded as soon as it came. "OH! Oh, so they got a pass then, huh? He was probably helping his fucking Mom!"

"Randy." Billy growled out his name in warning as Randy stiffened and you could see the fear he had for Billy and Stu clear as day. Billy continued, taking a few steps forward with a menacing glare. "...I wasn't involved with helping my Mom. She didn't even know I was alive. Just so we don't have a damn blood bath here to rival Texas Chainsaw Massacre; keep my Mom's name out of your fucking mouth."

You quickly ignored Billy, urgently telling Randy. "They didn't kill anyone at Windsor and they let us go. I couldn't call the cops after that!"

Randy glared back at you. "No, you let them go and called Gale a liar! All because they didn't kill anyone THAT time?...Is that what you're telling me right now?"

"Because Gale was a liar! I didn't help them, okay?! I NEVER helped them kill! I had to let them go. Ray, you know how dangerous they are!"

Billy and Stu nodded with smirks, not seeming too empathetic of this situation. Taking your comment as a compliment while watching.

You continued. "So, why would I risk getting killed to get them caught? They were long gone, Police would have never found them, they already almost assaulted me behind stage and Gale was itching to get leverage to put me away-"

"So, you did this for yourself? Is that it? Just so you won't get caught up in a scandal?" He had disgust and anger on his face.

"No!" You shook your head and felt your heart shatter. "How can you fucking say that? Do you have any idea what I did after I saw you getting wheeled away in that ambulance?... Do you know I took a knife and hunted them down and tried to kill them because I thought they were the ones to do that to you? I did this for us, Ray! You were in a coma on life support in the hospital. I wasn't risking getting the police involved so they could get revenge by sneaking into the hospital and taking you from me! I'd never forgive myself!" You felt tears pricking your eyes and slowly rolling down your face as he stared at you.

Randy seemed hurt by that, faltering with a frown before shaking his head with a glare once more. "Okay...So, you lied and acted like they didn't exist. You let me and Dewey believe that too...You hid their existence from us since Windsor."

"...Yes." You shook your head, voice heavy. "Okay, yes! I did!...I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing, I'm sorry!"

You caught a glimpse of their expression by accident as Randy kept pacing and you turned your head to follow him...Seeing you cry made Stu look..Surprised and even Billy seemed to have a poker face but his brows furrowed.

"So, how long have you been in contact, huh? Because you LOOK like you're in a fucking relationship with them like everyone said you were-"

"STOP." You snapped, voice cracking. "I am NOT with them, okay?! Do you think I'd do that?! What Gale said was a lie! I was not in a relationship with them behind Sid or Tatum's back at Woodsboro and I was trying to get them caught at Windsor when I realized they were alive."

Randy threw up his hands. Both of you were so heated its like Billy and Stu weren't there as Randy demanded. "So what is it? Why? Why are you talking to two guys that killed your best friends and tried to kill you?"

"I...Stu was persistent after not wanting to kill me after Windsor and...I...I needed the company, okay? Is that what you want to hear?. After Gale did what she did, I only saw you and Dewey here and there with this GIANT secret I hid to protect you both! Stu saw the worst parts of me and didn't care...I needed that after the fucking Court case and he forced his way into my life anyways! I didn't have much of a choice so might as well make the best of it. And Billy? He didn't come after me anymore after Windsor so we said fuck it and called a truce. That's all! I haven't seen either one in over a decade, Randy! Not until the last night or two!"

"Hold on! 10 years?...Windsor wasn't 10 years ago...But that photo sure was." He pointed an accusing finger your way and you deflated.

You sniffed and drew out. "...We all...They stayed with me in Hollywood and we helped take down Roman and Neil."

"Are you fucking kidding me?...Listen here, YN. Maybe you see some bullshit 'my hero' crap towards them for killing James who was abusing you and that probably was the only semi decent thing they ever did or maybe Stu just whispered the right bullshit in your ear and Billy lied through his teeth to you but they are MURDERERS. They killed your best friends! Sidney...They killed her in front of you. They tried to sexually assault you in the theater, at least, that's what you told me. They tried to kill you AGAIN. They made me hate you for 2 years till I saw you at Windsor but we still won't get our senior year back we could have had together because I couldn't rationalize how you could save Billy fucking Loomis over her... They took Dewey's little sister away, dangled her in the garage like a bloody piece of meat on a hook. They ruined our FUCKING LIVES, YN!!" He screeched, voice cracking as he hung his head again and leaned against the pillar.

You frowned, lip quivering. "Randy, I-I know that. I swear not a day goes by that I don't think it but it was better to let them go and let them get caught on their own. Okay, there were no attacks from them after that because of what I did! I haven't talked to them in a decade till I came back here and these new murders happened...They're not involved."

"That's what you think-"

"No, I know. I know for a fact because..."

He jerked and glared up at you with tears still in his eyes. "...WHAT?"

You sucked in a shaky breath. "...Because...At Hollywood...The reason Neil targeted us was because he knew. He knew I let them go at Windsor and he wanted revenge. That was the entire reason he attacked us...It's why they were staying in my motel. They had ample opportunity to kill me but didn't and vice versa...We made a pact to kill any new Ghostface killers if they showed up since then for our own safety so the secret doesn't get out."

"...And how did he know?" Randy demanded, still not looking at you.

"What?" You asked with a confused face.

"Where was his evidence? HOW did he know that they were alive and you were hiding them, YN?"

"I-I don't-"

"Don't lie to me." He growled out before you heard the tremor in his voice. "Don't...Lie."

You almost lied but the more you lied, the more you dug a hole. You wanted to tell him everything and pray one day he'd understand...So you were. There was no going back now.

"...Because he tracked down Stu through Roman...And then me through Stu because...Because Stu was staying at my house and he saw it." You gave, forcing it out. "He found me through following Stu. That's how he found out where I lived."

Randy slammed his hand against the pillar with enough force to break his wrist or hand. He quickly tried rushing away to the door and you chased after him. "Ray, please!"

"DON'T!" He yelled, shoulders stiff. "Don't fucking call me that."

You felt your heart sink so low as you shook. Terrified at what he was about to say before a voice ran out behind you.

"Or what, RAY?" Stu jeered finally after probably struggling to stay quiet. Jead tilted with his brows raised. Randy slowly looked over his shoulder and clenched his fist as Stu continued with a smirk. "It's true. I was at her house."

You looked at Stu with you knew were tears streaming down your face, silently begging him not to lie and build up something that wasn't there just to get a reaction.

Stu stared back at you before sighing and saying. "...And nothing happened. YN was beyond generous and probably because she was scared to death of me hurting her or killing you and Dewey. I kind of threatened her if she didn't let me crash once in a while...You don't know the full story, man. She wasn't helping us. She was trying to keep you and herself from getting killed." Randy glared at him as he continued. "Man, just...Don't take this out on her. I twisted her arm behind her back, okay? She didn't have a choice. She didn't have choice in Ohio, she didn't have a choice in between that and Hollywood...The only choice she had was after Hollywood and she didn't call me for 10 freaking years."

Randy sneered at him. "Yeah?...She still lied. She hid this for years, doesn't matter the years, it was years..." He looked at you. Blue eyes were boring into you even in the dim lighting of the barn. "...I trusted you all these years. We all did! I defended you for years just to find out there was truth to it. Even if Gale wasn't completely accurate, she had it right...You lied about everything..." He looked away with a pained expression. "We're done."

You stared, feeling something in you break. "...What?"

"We're done. I don't want you in my life after this...I don't want you near my kids...If you can hide this, I just...I don't know who you are anymore. I can't trust you. I can't even trust that what your saying is true...You're selfish YN. You did this to save yourself. "

You stared in shock, he went to leave and to your even greater shock, you heard Billy scoff loudly.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Randy looked back with his shoulders squared as Billy stepped forward. If anything, he was more intimidating now then as a teen as he berated Randy on your behalf which had you...Lost for words. Stu was surprising but this was shocking to say the least.

"This...Woman has saved your cowardly ass and Doofus and Reporter Barbie's lives more times than any of you fucking dunderheads could've ever done! You all think you'd be alive if it wasn't for her?!" He stood beside you, jaw clenched as he pointed at you. "This crazy bitch threatened me with a knife when she thought I had attacked you. Okay, she hunted us down to threaten us. US and she didn't care. THAT is the type of girl she is...All for you. She would defend any of you! She's only risking her life at this fucking barn party for you, you dipshit! She would probably jump in front of a train if it meant saving you or your kids, she has risked her life so many times to save yours and your gonna throw her aside because she lied trying to save your ass?"

You were shocked...Completely shocked of all the people, Billy was defending you...He was actually defending you.

Randy turned around fully. Rage on his face as his jaw ticked and his lips formed a thin line.

Billy stared him down, continuing after releasing a huff. "Ya know what?...She deserves better than you, better than Sheriff Riley as scary as that title is, definitely better than that twat Gale...She deserves better. I couldn't be so goddamn lucky to have someone like her in my ballpark like she is for you...What?" Billy gave a disbelieving smirk. "Was Sidney that worth it? Huh? She didn't even know you existed, Geek! You were a lost puppy following her around. The loser she didn't even pay attention to! She talked to you because she felt sorry for you. Do you think she'd hang onto your death like you have her's? HUH?!" Billy demanded. "Tossing a friendship with this one that for whatever reason actually interacts with you for some dead chick that didn't know you existed?! Sidney wasn't your best friend, she was the girl you were never gonna have and you fucking know it! Trust me...I had that. Wasn't that special."

Stu chimed in.."No shit, Sid was hot but she wasn't all that...Dumping YN? Now, you need your head examined for that one." 

"Shut the fuck up...Shut the fuck up, Loomis. Both of you. You don't get to talk about what happened. You ruined our lives, you sick fucks." Randy hissed out in both rage and fear.

You were still shocked, trying to process all this. You should be snapping at Billy and Stu but you were too shocked to do so.

Stu grinned darkly as Billy snickered and told him. "Make me, Geek. Aww...Boo hoo. She's dead and I gave you a bullet wound which is the only interesting thing about you. Get over it. Because I'm here...And she's not. And it's staying that way."

Randy sneered at Billy. "I have a wife I adore, okay? This has nothing to do with Sidney or Highschool drama bullshit. This has everything to do with you being an annoying thorn in my side and ruining Dewey and YN's lives! She can't even live life because of you and Dewey lost his baby sister!"

Billy huffed. "Tough. Because ya know what? I don't care...You all deserved it." Billy had that dark, challenging look in his eyes and you knew he was baiting Randy.

You jumped. Randy charged at Billy. All those years of rage and hurt building up as he raised the pitchfork that Billy easily swatted aside and shoved Randy against the pillar. Knife at his throat as Stu quickly cornered him as well. You snapped out of it, cocking the hammer back and pressing the gun at Billy. "Let him go! He didn't mean it!"

Billy raised his brows at Randy who jerked and struggled against him in rage. "Deja vu, huh? You're a lot stronger than you were at the lockers that day." He gritted out as he shoved Randy harder. Making him hit his head and falter a moment.

Stu laughed a bit. "Well shit...Look who's balls finally dropped."

Billy chuckled as well, a dark look in his eyes. "Yeah...Too bad it was at the wrong time."

"LET HIM GO OR I SHOOT!"

Billy gave you an annoyed glare. "You're gonna shoot me over him? The guy that's tossing you aside?"

"He's my best friend, Billy! You don't need to like me, I know you don't. But if you respect me, even as an enemy...You'll let him go...Please...Please...If you have any respect for me at all." You felt your resolve finally crack after all these years. Finally admitting it. "I don't want to kill you...I don't want you dead, Billy. But I can't let you hurt my friend."

Billy slowly looked at you...Finally, some shock on his own face at the realization. Randy used the opportunity to shove away and bolt for the door. They went to run after him and you intercepted the gun in their faces. "DON'T! Just because I don't want you dead doesn't mean I won't shoot if I have to!"

They glared at you. Stu yelling. "He's gonna rat us out!"

"And I'll deal with it, now back off!" You yelled back.

Stu relenting first with an eye roll as Billy huffed and backed down for now. You ran after Randy and so did Billy and Stu.

"Ray!" You called out desperately.

"Stop! Don't follow me...Just don't. I can't even look at you right now." Randy didn't even spare you a glance as he stalked to the main barn. His voice cold and his shoulders square.

You faltered, standing outside the barn with nothing but utter devastation. What do you do?...What can you do?" You sucked in a breath, pain on your face as you saw your best friend leave knowing...Nothing would be the same ever again. He went to the main barn and you could do nothing about it. His friendship, your friendship with Karla, your relationship with your God kids...It was all gone just like that.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to see Stu looking down at you...He looked genuinely remorseful as he tsked and gave you a thin lip frown. He pulled you into a hug before you could think, sighing heavily against you. "Damn...I'm sorry, girl...I really am."

Despite yourself...You gripped onto him. Feeling your face screw up into a quiet sob. He gripped you tightly...It was the first true hug like this you had in entirely too long as he held you close...It was like at the cemetery all those years ago only this time you were the one that needed that embrace.

You allowed it for a moment before hearing Billy clear his throat. A frown on his face with his arms crossed. "...We gotta go. Randy is gonna inform Dewey..."

You nodded and gently pushed Stu. "Go on. Both of you get out of here."

They looked at you in confusion as Stu mumbled. "And you-"

"No, Stu. It's my word against Randy's. Just...Get out. Escape. I'll deal with whatever happens."

Billy stared at you with some newfound respect in his eyes. "You'd take the fall for us?...Don't be stupid. People will hate you, Gale is gonna have a field day, you'll lose your house...You might even lose your life."

"Just go! Damn it, go." You screwed your eyes shut and ran a hand over your face at how bad this was. How awful this was.

Stu protested. "We can't leave you here alone with the killer! Are you freaking loco or something?!"

"Stu!...Go. I'll be okay...If not...Well, at least you both got away. You are two terrible, horrible, low down monsters. Randy's right, you ruined so many lives but...I don't know your lives now but...Go home. The killer doesn't seem to even know you're here so go home and forget me and Woodsboro exist...If I go, they'll find me and it'll lead me back to both of you. Just get out of here...And...Thanks for defending me..." You almost whispered that last part with a hopeless sad smile.b

Stu shook his head, panic and outrage on his face. "No, fuck that! I'm not letting you get killed or sent to prison after everything all because you didn't let us kill Randy! Fuck that!"

Billy tugged at his sleeve. "Come on, Stu-"

He jerked his arm away. "No! She has no one now, you heartless prick! She needs us!"

Your heart broke at his words as you closed your eyes.

Billy had more emotional understanding and maturity than Stu but Stu tried. He frowned but tugged at Stu. "We can't help her in prison...We gotta get out before cops come and we'll figure this out afterwards. " He looked at you with a firm nod. "Good luck...Just don't do something stupid because I'm gonna be pissed if someone kills you before me." He offered a slight smirk and you nodded in return.

Billy dragged Stu as Stu reluctantly went. Watching you the whole time as you stood there near the barn. Leaning your head back to look at the night sky with tears streaming down your face and a choked sob trying to come out...You quickly wiped your tears. Knowing now wasn't the time. You needed to think. You needed to make it look like Randy was confused. You needed to get away and find Randy and hopefully he'd at least try to hear you out again...Tonight was the Final Act and someone was dying.

[prongsfish]

sigh

im post blocked

anyway

FISHALICIOUS

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE EVAN ROSIER HEADCANONS

(ive been asking everyone because he's slowly becoming my favourite)

just now realising you asked this nearly a month ago i'm so sorry i don't know why i struggle with answering asks so much!! but anyways evan headcanons i will GLADLY give. my characterisation of him is less concrete than characters like barty or regulus but i think about him loads still i love him...

this is a classic ofc but i will always see him and pandora as twins!! i love siblings in media so much and i think it allows for suuupper interesting dynamics between them, even in canon

in muggle aus my go-to career for him is either a piercer or something in the medical science field. i can just picture him as this mildly off-putting medsci student who goes on to be a forensic pathologist or something, he's really intrigued by the human body and how it functions in various ways. could definitely also go the way of unlicensed surgeon or mad scientist who performs fucked up experiments on people but that sort of thing doesn't quite fit into every fic lmaoo

i've always thought of him as more of a piercings guy than a tattoo guy (which is the opposite to barty). he'd definitely have both but i associate him more with piercings if that makes sense? i imagine he'd have a labret, bridge, stretched lobes (~7/8"), stretched septum (~0g), eyebrows (normal and middle placements), and high nostrils. all symmetrical!! plus probably some other non-facial piercings

he'd love sci-fi, thriller, and horror (especially psychological) films. anything super tense and probably confusing

when he was a child he and pandora would trap and kill insects. they'd spend ages examining little bug bodies and dissecting them with sticks and stuff... as he grew older he became more and more interested in bigger animals. occasionally he would kill animals himself but more often he'd search for those already dead, especially roadkill. once he was finished with any given specimen he'd carefully remove, clean, and reconstruct their skeletons to give to pandora. she didn't like the organs stuff as much as he did but she loved collecting bones and taxidermy insects, in exchange one year for his birthday (10-14th, maybe) she spent ages searching to buy him a surgical set from an antique store

waaay scarier than barty. if you don't know them you might be more initially scared by barty but while barty is loud and crazy and violent and laughs at pain/danger, evan is creepy. he knows way a million and one ways to kill someone without leaving behind any evidence. he knows every single pressure point on the human body. someone mentions a medicine they've taken their whole life for the first time and when someone else asks what it is he can explain in minute detail exactly how it works to the point where not even the person who takes it knew even half of what he says. he's super quiet moving without even meaning to be so he scares the shit out of people all the time. he doesn't blink as often as he should but just often enough that you don't notice until you're paying attention. and this is all revealed gradually, whereas barty's most "scary" traits are purposefully the most surface level things about him

he loooves medical dramas. he's watched tons of them. he HATES the good doctor though, purely on principle because once someone said that must be his favourite because he's autistic. his actual favourite is house

he runs cold and NEVER wears shorts. lots of beanies and jackets

these were so random and i went on a few tangents but oh well i did like five other things between writing these so it's a bit of a mess LMAO

[zombiiegrr]

You're MINE.

Love quinn X fem! reader fanfic

cw: confession, talk of kidnapping / murder , no smut (part 2????), and yandere stuff / jealousy . ❤️

although in the show its not specified how old she is but the book "you" is inspired by she is 35. it is mention you have known her for 29 years since kids start school at 6! but anyways here we go <3

Love quinn was your best friend ever since grade school. You were the only one who understood her even after she admitting to killing her babysitter to you while drunk you understood in fact you supported her and told her she wasn't sick for protecting her brother and you seen her for her which is one of the reasons she was so in love with you. you were perfect and meant for her, she could feel the soul bond between the both of you so when you came home and told her you met "a nice girl in a bookstore" she lost it.

"what" is not what you were expecting when you told your best friend you met someone new. you thought she would ask a shit load of questions like normal but no she was looking at you like you told her you robbed a charity place.

anger, fear, and disgust are all you were reading from her face when you looked at your best friend sitting next you, you always read love like a book but maybe you were wrong this time maybe she was going through something and you venting about a random girl wasn't helping

" do you want to talk about this maybe other tim-" she caught you off by standing and walking over to the kitchen you didn't understand what was going on did she want you to follow her? To give her space? To change the topic? You knew she was upset. just no clue why.

Love wasn't mad no she was fucking infuriated. Another one? Were you serious? she already got rid of the last one did you know how hard it was to track her down? she was so fucking jumpy and didn't trust anyone, so love had to kill her she tried to pay her away like she did to everyone else, but your ex was so fucking crazy and actually loved you. but love loves you more way more than anyone in the world

She knew she could pay this one away but if not, she would have to just get her hands dirty but for you she didn't really care she was a bit messy with her killing but no need to worry about it she'll always find a way back to you. but if you kept acting this way kept acting like she wasn't all you need then she'd deal with it and make sure no one else can get to you.

"So, what's special about this one huh? what is she funny or cool or just pretty?" she was cleaning some knifes and other dishes from the sink and wasn't breaking eye contact and honesty you had this alarming feeling that something was wrong. "Who is she y/n? clearly you don't just like her because she's nice." love knew it wasn't because she was nice because she had been nice to you for the 29 years, not just nice she had been an angel to you.

This is ironic since you HAD liked love, in fact you loved her since high school you had just decided after seeing her only date men and never even take a glance at women that she was straight, and decided it was best to try to move on since it was a one-sided matter that you knew would ruin your relationship

"she just being nice" you reminded yourself in 11th grade when she offered to be your first kiss so you could "enjoy it with someone you trust" and when she made a joke about marrying you so no one could steal you from her during your first year in college and when she kept talking about how good your lips looked a few nights ago while drunk all these things she kept doing that stopped you from moving on that's why you went out so much why you joined every dating site you could and gave anyone your number who asked for it because you couldn't take being alone with your feelings

"True you're right maybe she's just pretty! want to see her?" love face got worst when you asked her that she looked like she wanted to kill me or no like she wanted to kill someone. you stood up and walked over to her pulling up the girls Instagram and finding a picture. she looked like love, same smile and hair and honestly it was shitty as hell for you to pursue someone just being they LOOKED like love and you weren't going to act like it wasn't.

you showed love the picture thinking it would calm her and take away her anger but it just contuned to piss her off "I see.. woah she looks like me its almost like your dating her because she looks like me" she meant that in the most joking way possible to hide her anger but the tense look in your face and the way you grabbed your phone out of her hands made her question if she was right. "Why so tense y/n? it's not like I'm right am i? ''

you tried to calm the absolute dread you felt when she joked the similarities in their looks as you opened your mouth to prevent this from furthering before love interrupted you "Don't lie to me you know i'll know" she was right she knew you like the back of her hand which made you think and wonder how she never knew or could tell you liked her back you guessed it was because she had never seen you truly in love to see how much you adored her.

"Wh-what" she was walking over to you as you stepped back each time she stepped forward. She had a blank look but also a small smirk on her face and you couldn't or was too nervous to look you into her the eye and you were running out of steps to back away from her as she waited for your reply

"Listen Okay I think it's just a super weird coincidence that you look alike it's not like that's the reason I talked to her or anything!!" you hoped that sounded convincing but by the look on her face you knew it wasn't that she didn't believe a word coming out of your mouth but she didn't say anything she just reached for the cabinet you kept your alcohol in and reached for the cheap ass stella rosa you bought while struggling a few months ago you were about to warn her but she just took a sip straight from the bottle

you stood there in awkward silence for like two minutes before she took another sip and took a deep breath in.

"I like you, no I love you I have since i knew what it meant. Every time you tell me about someone you meet or tell me about a new significant other it makes me feel like someone punched me in the chest" she didn't know why she said it she planned on going to the grave because she didn't take rejection very well and didn't know what she would do if you didn't love her back she knew she couldn't live without you and refuses not to be in your life so this was so dumb of her

at least that's what she thought until she felt your lips on hers it felt like someone had just shot her with ecstasy

she didn't want to stop kissing you, but she needed to feel you it had been YEARS of not having you and she was going to do everything she had been dreaming of since her teen years. she started touching the buttons on your shirt feeling relived she didn't have to kidnap you or anything that was her last choice, but she won't lie and say she wasn't ready to do it for your love.

"WAIT! what about my confession" you cleared your throat and looked her in the eyes. "Ever since I was aware of my feelings for you, I haven't known what it does I didn't know If I should tell you risking our relationship or keep it to myself to be safe, but I can't take it anymore. I can't be with anyone but you because Love Quinn I am in love with you"

she didn't mean to start crying she just thought kidnapping you was the only way she would hear those words out of your mouth she let out a few sobs before pulling you into to her once you started to wipe her face after a few kisses and a happy cry session you were hers and she was yours

but you didn't know what the meant but you were now hers which meant she would do anything for you, and no one was going to keep you from her even if it killed the both of you

part 2?

[dadsbongos]

Katsuki Bakugou having an airhead gf for about 1130 words

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Katsuki Bakugou/Reader Warnings: airhead shit ig, I just got diagnosed, so I gave you ADHD because :D Summary: Katsuki never thought he’d be a fan of airheads, but here he was - holding one in his arms like he’d lose her anytime. ~~~

“Why the wide smile, dork?” Katsuki side-eyed his girlfriend.

“Because,” (Y/n) giggled, squeezing tighter at her boyfriend’s - admittedly sweaty - hand, “you came with me! You don’t usually do that.”

“Whatever,” he gruffed, “I just wanted to spend time with my girlfriend, that a damn crime?”

“No! You should do it more often,” the girl smiled, “Like all the time.”

“Maybe you’ll start training with me, hah?” the blond teased.

“No way,” (Y/n) immediately pouted as the couple walked down the street from their dorms, “Your training’s crazy! I think I'd die…”

“You wouldn’t die, dumbass,” Katsuki huffed, “I didn’t date you just to kill you.”

“I’d hope so,” the girl mumbled quietly.

~~

Tracing over the hand laid against her stomach, (Y/n) closed her eyes with a small smile as Katsuki pressed his cheek to her shoulder. Fresh slivers of golden sunlight peeked through the boy’s blinds as morning arose to wake the couple. Katsuki, for as much as he wanted to deny it, found it hard to sleep without (Y/n) - without her warmth and comfort. Something in the body he could hold so close to his was inexplicably soothing.

Neither party was asleep anymore, simply basking in the glow of morning as soft sheets spread over their lackadaisical bodies. (Y/n) turned the hand over her midsection to face palm-up and began gently running her fingers over the firm flesh there as well.

“You have pretty soft hands, Kacchan.”

“It’s some shit with my Quirk, I don’t get it,” he mumbled, “Don’t get me started on the suppository shit, that made me so pissed to find out.”

“What’s the suppository stuff about?” (Y/n) quirked a brow, looking to her boyfriend despite his eyes being closed.

“Anal fissure rectification,” Katsuki pressed his lips into a thin line, knowing he’d have to rephrase or his girlfriend wouldn’t understand, “Tears in your asshole get healed with nitroglycerin and since my sweat’s so similar, I bet it’d work too.”

“Gross,” the girl fake gagged, still drawing circles in her boyfriend’s palm, “That sucks. I’m sorry you had to learn that.”

“Helps with chest pain too, so it’s not complete shit,” Katsuki huffed, shifting so he was even closer to his girlfriend, “But that was horsecock to find out.”

“I love the way you phrase things.”

“I try.”

~~

“Man, Bakugou,” Denki murmured, watching as (Y/n) and Momo battled on the other side of the gym, “I didn’t know (L/n) was so strong. Kind of inspiring, now I wanna be more like her.”

Katsuki’s brows furrowed, he loved (Y/n) - dearly - but, “I saw her drop a pizza and cry about it for thirty minutes last night.”

~~

“If I illegally download a movie in the Bahamas, does that make me a pirate in the Caribbean?” (Y/n) suddenly asked as Katsuki was doing his homework.

Pausing, the blond turned in his chair to look his lover in the eyes, blinking at her twice before sighing, “Did you take your Adderall today?”

“...maybe…”

~~

“I hope I get run over,” Katsuki grumbled, reading off the pairings for the newest team-building exercise.

“Aw, don’t say that!” (Y/n) cheered, patting her beau’s back, “Kaminari isn’t all bad, he’s super nice!”

“You’re just lucky you got Ponytail, she’s the only useful extra here,” the boy huffed.

“Hey,” (Y/n) puffed out her cheeks.

“Stop whining,” Katsuki rolled his eyes, ignoring the calls of his name from a certain electric blond, “You’re not an extra, I don’t see why you’re pissed.”

“I’m not?!”

“Fuck no, I wouldn’t date a nobody.”

~~

“If a whole zoo escaped, what would be your top priority?” Mina suddenly blurted out.

Just as (Y/n) went to say ‘ducks’, Katsuki answered, “Tigers and lions, duh.”

“Right,” the girl nervously chuckled, “Obviously.”

~~

“Katsuki?”

“What?” the boy turned to his girlfriend, slightly disturbed as she never called him by his proper legal name since realizing she didn't have to.

“I’m scared,” (Y/n) fiddled with her fingers, “I threw a boomerang a few years ago and it didn’t come back, what if it hits me and knocks me out while I’m in class? Or while I’m on a mission?”

Katsuki’s face dropped into a deadpan, “Are you joking?”

“No.”

“Alright, come here, I’ll tell you a secret,” he waited for her to come closer, “I destroyed the boomerang,” at (Y/n)’s shocked face, he nodded solemnly, “It came in while you were sleeping a few weeks ago, I didn’t say anything cuz I knew you’d flip the fuck out.”

“Wow!” (Y/n) smiled brightly, taking her boyfriend into a tight hug, “You’re so cool, Kacchan!”

“I know.”

~~~

Looking over her study guide for the upcoming economics unit, (Y/n)’s brows furrowed, “Inflation? Isn’t that like… a kink?”

Katsuki’s head snapped over to his girlfriend as she sat at her desk, “Tell me you’re joking right now.”

~~

“If I was hiding from a killer, I’d just hide in the pantry!” (Y/n) beamed, “That way, I could eat while hiding, it’s simple.”

“Yeah, then the killer could hear you opening loudass chip bags, it’s genius,” Katsuki sighed.

~~

“I hate everyone in this school,” Katsuki grunted.

(Y/n) frowned, “Even me?”

“I said everyone, (Y/n), not every ten.”

~~

“Someone’s gotta talk to Denki about the birds and the bees,” Hanta shook his head, “Not gonna be me.”

“Huh?” Denki queried a brow, “A talk about what and who?”

“I’ll teach you about the birds and bees,” (Y/n) nodded sadly, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “They’re disappearing at an alarming rate.”

~~

“The recipe says to beat three eggs,” (Y/n) read off the box of brownies.

“At what?” Katsuki snorted, “Hand-to-hand combat?”

“Has to be,” his girlfriend seriously replied, “Aizawa banned Quirks in the kitchen.”

~~

“Wanna hear a sad joke, Kacchan?”

“Why fuckin’ sad?”

“Oh, autocorrect, I meant dad.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed at (Y/n), “This is a verbal conversation.”

~~

(Y/n) looked up from the bed sheets in the nurse's room, “You can call it a near-death experience, Recovery Girl, but I call it a vibe check from God.”

Katsuki immediately shook his head, “Stop… please stop.”

~~

“Stress is not good for the baby!” (Y/n) shouted, gripping at the sides of her head.

Katsuki looked over, “What baby?!”

“Me!” the girl sniffled slightly, looking on the verge of tears with her study guide and notes spread out on her desk, “I’m the baby.”

Awkwardly looking away, Katsuki clenched his eyes shut before throwing his arms open and wrapping them tightly around his anxious girlfriend, “Tell me when the stress levels are down, you big baby.”

“Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Whatever, nerd.”

~~

“Hey, does it smell like gas in here?”

(Y/n) pat herself down before pulling out a lighter and igniting it, “Nah.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened as his girlfriend casually placed the lighter back in her coat pocket, “Oh my fucking God.”

~~

“Careful with my emotional baggage,” (Y/n) reminded Eijiro as he loaded her things into the trunk, “It’s designer.”

“He knows,” Katsuki rubbed at the bridge of his nose, “You say it every time.”

(Y/n) nodded, as if her boyfriend was stupid, “Because it’s funny every time, Kacchan.”

[hybridfanfiction]

Owner Training - 9

- Lonely Kitten - 

If there was anything that made you hate having to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work besides the fact that you were actually going to work , it was the sight that greeted you when you went to say your goodbyes for the day.

Yoongi was curled up on the right side of the bed, the blankets pulled up so much you could barely see his face. He looked so comfortable and cozy, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and let his soft purrs lull you back to sleep.

Yoongi suddenly does that weird snore/snort combo he does when he’s jolted from sleep, and he turns to the other side, now facing the doorway. His eyes are still closed but your heart flutters a little when he tugs some blankets back like he’d worried he’d pulled them off of you.

You grin and walk up to him, bending over to press a small kiss to his forehead. He cracks one eye open and looks up at you sleepily.

“Work?” he mumbles, his voice adorably slurred.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, kay?”

He hums and smacks his lips. “Don’t stay too late. You’ve been working too much.”

He had a point. You’ve already worked nine days straight this week and you were going crazy.

“I won’t. Today should be an easy day.”

How he manages to project so much skepticism with just one eye is a mystery.

“Promise?”

“Sure, baby. I promise. Love you.”

“Love,” is all he manages to mumble before he falls back asleep.

****

The thing about your job is that...you hate it. You’d gone into this job expecting to be able to make a difference. That you’d find abandoned kids great homes, bring families together, or...you didn’t even know. It was a lot of rainbows and unicorns. The reality of it was that you saw a lot of kids being given back to abusive homes because their dad passed an anger management class, only to be back in the system six months later. Parents would take each other to court over visitation rights, and only relent when they received even more money from the other. And those were just some of the more mild issues. Basically, this job had opened your eyes to the fact that people were monsters.

And on top of the actual work, was the fact that your seniors and boss made your life a hell. Instead of treating you with the respect due to you as a fellow lawyer with the same shiny degrees as them, they instead handed their work off on you or made you do menial tasks like you were just another paralegal ( NOT to shit on paralegals either - their job was hella hard too).

You didn’t even have your own office! You were just another desk in the sea of paralegals and secretaries. When you’d brought it up at your last review, you’d been told it was because you were the new hire and you had to work your way up. Well, you’d been working here for several years now, and the hotshot young guy straight out of Yale that they’d hired a year ago already had a private office and his own secretary.

Literally, the only thing keeping you going these days was the fact that you needed the money and you didn’t know what else to do. At least you had Yoongi waiting for you at home to look forward to.

“L/N, I’m going to need your help with these pleadings. Need them done for tomorrow. Thanks,” Johnson, one of the lawyers you hated the most, threw a pack of client interview notes on your desk and struts off without even giving you a chance to reply.

You sigh and look at the packet, debating setting them on fire and walking out of the building like a boss. But then he’d just complain to the big boss, who would call you in and give you a talking to. It all seemed like too much of a hassle. (You knew you were being bullied for being the only female lawyer here - it was ridiculous and sexist. Like, hello? Is this 1924? No.)

You’d get out of here eventually. Somehow. For now, you simply pull the packets closer and get to work.

Yoongi is going to kill you.

****

When you arrive home and finally kick off your heels with a happy sigh, it suddenly hits you that your apartment is silent. No TV, no booming rap music, not even the blessed sounds of cooking that your empty stomach had been looking forward to.

“Yoongi?”

“Nice of you to join us.”

You jump as he mumbles the words, finally pinpointing him in the corner of the dining room. He’s lounging in one of the chairs with his arms folded, his eyes screaming his disappointment.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry.”

“Late, she says. It’s past midnight,” he scoffs.

“I know! I was going to leave earlier but I got stuck with some extra work.”

“You promised.”

His tone hurts you and you feel horrible.

He reaches out his hand, looking you dead in the eye...and pushes your vase of wildflowers right onto the floor.

The glasses crashes everywhere and he merely sits back and looks at the mess with a slight smirk.

“What the fuck, Yoongi?”

He shrugs. “It was in my way.”

“Why do you... aw hell ,” you whisper, feeling tears well in your eyes.

Suddenly, he leans foreword, looking at you with alarm. “Why the fuck are you crying? No, wait , stop that.”

“I’m so so-sorry,” you hiccup, as your tears turn to wails. “I’m a horrible person and a horrible girlfriend. I can’t do anything right. I’m a failure.”

Yoongi rushes to you and crouches down, pulling you into his chest.

“No, you’re amazing. The best. I’m just throwing a tantrum like a baby because I miss you. I’m sorry, I’ll be better,” he croons, petting your back frantically in an attempt to comfort you.

You lean into his touch and let yourself cry until chest and throat throb in pain too much to continue. Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Better?” me mutters, and you nod your head, finally looking up at him. His eyes are red too, with tear tracks down his cheek. You swipe at them and he kisses your hand.

“Sorry,” you whisper hoarsely, and he shakes his head.

“No need. I’m sorry I was being a brat.”

“You have a point though. I’m never home.”

“Because you’re literally working to take care of us.”

“Yeah, but...even I know that they are working me too much. I’ve never been so stressed in my life, Yoongi. And today I had to literally watch some kid cry and be torn away from the foster family that’s been raising him since he was two weeks old and be given to his druggie mother who he’s seen once in three years. I just...how is that okay?”

“It’s not. Not everyone has as big a heart as you, love.”

You grunt and relax into his touch as he pets your hair soothingly.

“If you could find something else, what would you do?”

You consider the question. “I’m not sure. I think there’s still a part of me that desires to help and make a difference, but then there’s the me that’s been at this for awhile that isn’t sure that’s realistic. I’d still work in law, but...I don’t know. I don’t know who would actually need me.”

He hums and tilts your head up. “Want some tea?”

“Yes please,” you smile softly as he stands up and reaches out a hand to help you up.

He peeks sheepishly at the glass and gestures for you to go sit on the couch.

“I’ll clean it up”

“Seriously though, Yoongi. My vase?”

“Honestly, I’ve been feeling the urge to push that off the table for a few days and I just used that as an excuse. I’ve also been eyeing the wine glass display, but I’ve held off since I actually use those,” he chuckled on his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare. Bad Kitty.”

“Kinky,” he hums, then you hear the click of the electric kettle.

You wait in silence, exhausted after your outburst of emotion. Truthfully, it was probably long-due. A few minutes later Yoongi returns and hands you a mug full of lemon and ginger tea, blowing on his own mug as he settles in next to you.

“I had a thought,” he rumbles after taking a sip.

“Finally,” you snort, grinning when he pinches you.

“You never call in sick or go anywhere so you probably have a shit load of vacation time saved up, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I should have at least a couple weeks worth. I usually just cash out at the end of the year.”

“Take it. Let’s go on vacation. No sense killing yourself over a job you hate, and I want to spend some time with you.”

You sigh, leaning into Yoongi’s warmth. “Yeah, you’re right. Where shall we go?”

He shrugs. “Jeju? I don’t know. I don’t care as long as it’s somewhere with a nice bed and I get to see you in a bikini”

You pinch him and he laughs unapologetically.

“You know I love you right? No matter how much I’m away or if we are having some stupid fight - I love you,” you ask, your voice soft and a little shy.

He picks up your free hand and places a kiss on the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“I love you too, even when I’m being a brat or when you forget to pick up ice cream.”

“Wow, that’s deep.”

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a man of refined tastes.”

****

Notes:

Why are my cats always knocking shit off my counters?

Also, I had a few requests from people who wanted to send me fanart. You can email it to me at smirksslayme@gmail.com or tag me on here. I’d love to see it.

I think I have a twitter made but I can't remember it right now lmao. If anyone wants that I'll try to find it later.

[b1ksh88p]

Be Mine Chapter 3

Plot: A storm is brewing in Valentine, and you’re in the middle of it. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen Harry and there’s already been a horrendous murder. With tensions high and everyone finger pointing your ex, Edmund, makes everything worse by spreading gossip. With the sting of rejection still weighing heavy on your heart you attempt to clear everything up only to make things worse.

Describing your mood as sour would be a understatement. You were numb. A grey cloud loomed over your usual cheery exterior as you went through day to day activities. Whenever someone asked if you were alright you’d chalk it up to trivial excuses. When in actuality you were torn that you’d been stupid enough to try and have a picnic with a killer. If you were sane maybe you’d tell the Sheriff and get some of his boys in uniform to smoke Harry out somehow but you had no taste for revenge. All you wanted was to move on.

But it seemed your ex had other plans. You worked in the diner, usually taking up the night shifts to rid yourself of boredom. As you were cleaning a table you overheard a couple chatting away about you of all topics. Why your name was in their mouths you didn’t know but from what you got out of it made you want to raise hellfire.

“I heard she goes down there every night to see that killer.”

“Edmund said that the sherif saw her go in with food and came out empty handed.”

“No way, maybe she’s a killer.”

There’s no way you could allow these two peons spread such outlandish babble. You’ve never killed anyone nor would you ever. The thought of murdering another made you sick to your stomach. “Edmund is a long-nosed good for nothing asshole who spends his time making up calumniations and dumping his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day for a dumb blonde with a baby voice. You two and the rest of your bubble headed friends would be fools to believe anything that comes out his mouth.” You finish with a astute turn into the back for a extensive smoke break.

If you saw Edmund or that sleazy sheriff you’d be sure to give them a piece of your mind. And speak of the devil, there he was. Your blood was replaced with boiling water as you stomped your way towards him. He was with the sherif and some other random cop you didn’t know. Both of them saw you coming and started to drift apart before you whistle and jogged towards the two snakes.

“Where we going boys? Running away from the new killer of the town?”

“Now listen Y/N I didn’t mean to start anything.” The sheriff assured.

You weren’t impressed. “You’re just the last one seen in the mines so...it makes sense.” Edmund shrugged.

“And you were the last one fucking the blonde bimbo you cheated on me with and she has crabs....so it makes sense right?” You snap back garnering a chortle from the other cop.

“It’s not my fault you’re a boring bitch who can’t get anyone to date you except for some psycho?!” He growled.

“I’m not dating anyone and I’m not a killer. Instead of gossiping like little girls how about you three go investigate and find the real killer.” You throw down the cigarette and stomp it out beneath your heel.

“We apologize if we’ve caused you any trouble Miss, we’re doing the best we can.” The Sheriff whispered.

“Keep my name out your ass licking mouths and out the fucking paper.” You demand before walking back inside the diner.

After your shift you began to walk home. The ominous glow of streetlights did little to scare you. On your way to you lovely home you stopped by the liquor store. A bit tipsy you ventured the winding fucked up roads. The quiet sounds of the night were ruined by the sounds of sirens. It had been what? 72 hours and some change since the last murder what the hell could the coppers be speeding for? Even in your mildly drunken stupor you noticed where they were heading. The mines. Sober you would’ve kept walking like any sane person but you were running on anger, worry, and rum. A mix that didn’t bode well when making good decisions.

You knew a shortcut through the trees and made haste. By the time you fought through flora and fauna two cars were already there. The sheriff and Edmund were there holding lanterns and guns. You step out from behind the trees, face bathed in red and blue lights. Softly stepping towards the shit show. “What the fuck are you two asswipes doing?!” You call out as you make your way to the entrance of the mine. Before they can stop you you’re in front of the cold entrance.

“You protecting your boyfriend again?” Edmund spat as he loaded his gun.

“You don’t have a gotdamn clue who killed those two. It takes you dumb mother fuckers months to even get close to closing a case!”

“We know he’s down there Y/N and he’s gonna fucking burn for what he did. And if you gotta burn with him so fucking be it!” He aimed the gun at you which almost made you piss yourself. You stumble back as he aims it at you. The thumping of your heart beat in your ears.

“I’m not you enemy! And neither is he!” Your words were bold but hoarse.

“That son of a bitch killed family. I don’t care what you think he’s going to die, and if I have to shoot you to get to him I fucking will!” The sheriffs attempts to calm down Edmund were futile. He had his eyes on you. They were large and red and full of rage. He looked like a rabid animal and you his prey.

“...You’re angry I get that but this is a mob attack not a lawful pick up. You have no evidence-“

“DONT GIVE ME A FUCKING LESSON IN LAW BITCH I AM THE FUCKING LAW!” He shot at the ground beneath your feet sending dirt into your eyes. The muffled scolding from the sheriff did nothing to stop your beating heart. In fact there were bigger problems.

Another shot cracked through the night sending you to the ground covering your head. The grotesque sound of choking made you gag. The Sheriff was on the ground, clambering hands grabbing at the gaping hole in his chest as he bled out. Edmund was in shock. He held the man’s dead hand with wide eyes. Perfect time to get away. You book it into the mines. It was dark and cold, even chillier with a fresh murderer on your heels. At first you didn’t hear him but a shot echoed through the caves followed by some demands for you and Harry to reveal yourselves. That wasn’t happening so you keep running, ducking into random corridors to try and throw him off your trail.

Apart of you was afraid of running into Harry. What if he was angry at you? Running into one killer to escape the other was a chance you really didn’t want to take. You’d rather wait it out and hide. Hopefully Harry would take care of Edmund and you could run away without interacting with either of them. You stop running to hide in a old mining cart that was turned over. Covering your mouth with shaking hands you listen. A heavy set of footsteps past you, Edmund more than likely. It wasn’t like Harry to be so loud. He taunted what you assumed were the shadows to face him like a real man. He didn’t really see him right? You wish you could peek but you were far to afraid you’d get your head blown off.

“So that’s what you look like. Y’know it’s crazy. You don’t look like a monster.” He cocked the gun. “Tell me how you did it. How you killed my dad you fucking monster.” He demanded.

There was no response on Harry’s end. You hear something fall to the ground and then Edmund’s smug laughter. What the hell was going on? You quietly peak from out your hiding space. The minimal lighting made the scene hard to make out but by the looks of it Harry had...given up. He had thrown his pick axe ahead of him, taken off the mask, and dropped to his knees. A gloved hand on the barrel of the gun pointing it to his head. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Was he insane? Edmund goes into a end game spill about how long he’s waited to do this. How he’d pin the Sheriff’s and I’s murder on Harry and walk out the mines a hero. During this you start to crawl towards them, ready to rush him or throw a rock, anything to buy Harry time. Your chest is tight as you hold your breath. Nearing the both of them as quietly as you possibly can. Edmund cocks the gun and says something to the effect of “everyone dies, somebody should’ve take your sorry ass out long ago.” Before you hear a shot.

It hits the ceiling once you use all your might to swing Harry’s pickaxe into Edmund’s head, through his cheek. The blast was so close to Harry he fell back in pain. Edmund leans on the wall holding the left side of his face, still turned away from you. When he does look at you all the blood drains from your body. His tongue hung from the broken jaw like a salivating dog, torn flesh dangled around missing teeth, with so much flesh exposed blood spritzed out every time he moved closer to you. He couldn’t move his jaw so when he spoke it was a gurgled cacophony of rage and disbelief. You lift the pick axe once more but see him lift the shotgun and take aim. This makes you freeze like a deer in headlights. You close your eyes, bracing for impact. But to your surprise it never comes. Instead Harry had gotten up and tackled him, only problem was that he got shot.

The two men fell to the ground. Edmund kicking him off and frantically reaching into his pocket for two more shells. Without thinking you kick the gun from his hands. He tried to get up but you stomp on his chest with all the rage bottled up inside. He looks up at you with that mangled face and large eyes but mercy was the last thing on your mind. You look over him, raise the crude weapon, and allow the cold metal to pierce through his chest. You let out a exasperated scream as you continue your onslaught. Hammering down years of neglect, wasted time, slander, and abuse into what’s left of his broken body. When you’re done he’s left torn apart. Rib cage broken and organs exposed. In all the madness you vomit from the stress and overall exertion of energy you used up. The groans from Harry snap you back to reality and you go to aid him.

“Oh god oh shit hold on hold on.” You ramble. Your hands try their best to cover the wound. He was shot in the side. Luckily it wasn’t a direct hit but without medical attention it was gonna get nasty. You use Edmund’s jacket to help stop the bleeding. He was just staring at you. “What? What the hell are you gonna yell at me for now???” You yell trying not to cry. He lifts a bloody hand to your face.

FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON DRAGON BALL Z

[forasecondtherewedwon]

In Over His Headboard

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E Word Count: 7560

This is a submission for the first day of Thotumn, organized by @spideysmjs!!! Today’s prompt: Dirty Talk.

Summary: MJ learns that Ned's best friend went through a lot of backpacks as a teenager. And a lot of headboards as an adult.

MJ is very observant.

But that’s old news.

The other O-word she lives her life by is ‘organized’. In kindergarten, she rearranged everyone’s cubby during naptime (without permission) to suit her precepts. As an adult, she keeps her books sorted by topic and, within that, by size. The handles of her measuring cups are perfectly aligned. The apartment that houses both the books and the measuring cups is tidy, full of furniture with secret built-in storage spaces, and fewer than five miles from the house in which she grew up. MJ has organized and reorganized her own space so many times that, even though her few good friends think it’s crazy, it explains why one of her passions is helping people move.

Packing boxes is a delight. Laying down rugs so that their straight edges are perfectly parallel to the walls thrills her. Helping someone determine exactly the correct lineup of toiletries in the cabinet under their bathroom sink is a religious experience. She doesn’t express her joy in smiles or shrieks of excitement, but in her diligence. She’ll be tucked quietly in the closet, ordering jeans by shade of blue, while the rest of the volunteer movers crack open a beer in the kitchen, calling it time for a well-earned break.

Lately, everyone in MJ’s life has gotten disappointingly settled: her brother and his wife upsizing in suburbia for the baby on the way, her parents (who are finally coming down hard on not letting her shift their knickknacks around anymore), and Betty. Betty’s engaged—so engaged—and simply made space for her fiancé to move in with her, so MJ didn’t get to assemble a single cardboard box. She still feels slightly betrayed.

When Betty calls and starts in about schedules and plans and photographer, MJ assumes they’re about to go over more wedding details. But no, her friend informs her, the schedule involves the timed renting of a moving truck and the access date for a storage unit, the plans are who’s lending a hand and with what, and the photographer is Ned’s friend and future best man, some guy named Peter. MJ forgets the name (and asks Betty for it again later—day-of, as they’re driving to the guy’s apartment building). It’s a dull speck on the metaphorical diamond Betty has just held up to the light for her to inspect—whatshisname needs people to help him move.

Before the pleasure of putting someone’s possessions in just the right spot can commence, there’s the grunt work. MJ understands and accepts this as a necessary evil. On the day of Ned’s friend’s move-in, she dresses in overalls—multiple pockets for micro-organization on the fly—with a cropped t-shirt underneath because there will, inevitably, be stairs and it’s July. She’s trying not to begin sweating too far in advance, limiting her anticipation to a foot jumping on the immaculate rubber foot mat of the passenger seat of Betty’s car and a series of probing questions.

“Doesn’t this guy have any friends?”

“He has friends,” Betty assures her, being a responsible driver and keeping her eyes on the road, “just not a lot of super close friends.”

“And the close friends he does have weren’t available?”

“Umm…” She concentrates on watching the pedestrian countdown light as they cross an intersection. “I think a bunch of them went with him to the storage unit to load up the truck. I guess they don’t have the whole day off.”

“Oh, unlike me, who has nothing better to do.”

“Don’t get snippy. And don’t pretend you wouldn’t have begged to help if you’d heard me mention what I was doing today.”

MJ plays with the seatbelt strapped across her chest, feeling defensive. It’s her go-to reaction whenever Betty reveals how clearly she sees her.

“I was just trying to figure out why I was asked.”

“Ned’s his friend, I’m Ned’s fiancée, and you’re my friend.”

“The six degrees of Michelle Jones,” she mumbles.

“What?”

“Nothing. He lives in Queens?”

“Yeah, Peter’s local. He and Ned went to school together. Crazy, huh?”

“Crazy that you can travel the world and end up with a fiancé and a circle of friends from your hometown,” MJ agrees. Today, Betty’s in jean shorts and a beachy shirt that ties in a knot at the end of its row of iridescent buttons, but MJ mostly sees her on the news, looking as prim and expensive as a collectible doll. She’s a foreign correspondent for CNN, though she’s reining in the foreign part now that she’s living with Ned and about to get married.

“Crazy,” Betty repeats distractedly, making a perfect, tight turn into the belowground carpark next to the building bearing the address MJ wrote down two weeks ago. This is where the magic will happen.

The pile out and her friend beeps her fob to lock the car. She wants to take the elevator that’ll bring them up to the lobby, but MJ insists on trekking back up the ramp they drove down. It stretches her legs, a good warm up. As they emerge from the darkness of the lot and sun slices across their faces, she feels like she’s walking into Disney World. They stand on the sidewalk and right as she’s about to ask Betty when they guys are supposed to make an appearance, a U-Haul pulls up to the curb.

She sees the driver’s side door open and slam shut without seeing the driver, but Ned comes bounding down from the passenger’s side to hold his fiancée’s hands and give her a quick kiss on the forehead (they’re so engaged), then three more guys fold themselves out of the tight back of the cab and hustle around to the rear of the truck. The couple’s display of affection distracted MJ; she can only assume it’s the driver out of sight in the back, passing belongings down to his helpers, who swiftly stack them on the sidewalk near the front doors of the apartment building. There’s an array of boxes, then staggering steps as the guys navigate couches and mattresses out of the truck, racing against the inflexibility of the No Parking and No Idling signs on this street. If a bylaw stooge comes along, they’re screwed. New York’s street signs exist for the city to make money, not for the ease of citizens needing to unload their furniture.

The guy’s—Peter’s—friends are surprisingly quick, so MJ lets the speech she was mentally writing to argue in favour of his right to park the truck in front of the building he’s moving into dissolve in her head. Peter hops down from the back of the truck. From where she and Betty are standing, she can only see his legs and hear the clang of the rear door closing. The trio of extra helpers clamber back into the U-Haul with the intent and discipline of clowns into a clown car and wheel off to return the truck. MJ finally sees the man she’s come to help as he brushes his hands together and steps quickly onto the curb to avoid another car angling into the carpark. He shakes hair off his forehead and squints towards them, sun in his eyes, already smiling.

“Um, hello,” MJ hisses at Betty, quickly turning to her. “Were you going to mention that your fiancé is best friends with Spider-Man? That’s Peter fucking Parker.”

“And I’m Betty fucking Brant,” she counters breezily. She’s looking past MJ, waving at Peter. “I’m on the news more than he is and you don’t freak out when you see me.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Hey!”

MJ spins to look into the eyes of a municipal—no, a national—no, an international hero. She doesn’t say anything fast enough, so he moves past her to hug Betty before coming back to her with eyebrows raised in what looks like a mixture of inquiry, politeness, and gratitude.

“Michelle?”

“But my friends call me—”

“MJ,” he finishes for her, and normally that would be irritating, but Peter Parker is endearingly boyish close-up. He’s shorter than she is. He’s freckled. He does look like somebody she could’ve gone to school with and had a low-key crush on for years and years. The fame can’t touch that, which is why, she figures, his hero-next-door schtick works so well for him. He’s local, like Betty said. Every bit of him sells that and it’s obvious that he’s not trying.

“And yours call you Spider-Man?”

Might as well get that out in the open—that she recognizes him. He laughs easily and glances down.

“Nah, pretty much just ‘Peter’. ‘Petey’ if they either really want to make me suffer or they really like me.”

He gives her a look and it’s brief, but there’s a lot to it. The propositioning tilt of the head, the wolfish curl of the smile, the assessing cut of his eyes to catch her from the corner of his vision. MJ gets a strong sense that ‘really like me’ is a euphemism for ‘enjoy me sexually.’

“We’ll see how I feel once we’ve moved all your shit upstairs, I guess,” she responds flatly.

“That sounds fair.” His voice is bright now, no lurking depravity. “I hope I don’t have enough boxes to make you hate me.”

“Please. Boxes are nothing. I’d be more worried about that dresser turning me against you. What is that thing made of?”

“Solid oak,” he brags, then grimaces. “It sucked just lifting it onto the truck.”

“Can’t you just…” MJ mimes the motion Spider-Man does when he shoots that gunk at people and buildings.

“Lift the furniture up to my building with web fluid?” Peter crosses his arms and looks like he’s really calculating it in his head. “Wouldn’t be graceful. I’d probably smash some windows if I tried to do it from outside, and doing it from inside wouldn’t be that much easier than just carrying it up the stairs. Also, that’d attract a lot of attention and everything I do doesn’t need to make the news, you know?”

“Oh yeah,” she agrees dryly. “I hate it when I’m just grocery shopping and there’s a whole camera crew right in my face.”

He laughs at her sarcasm. Appealing.

“Right?”

And then they have to scurry to catch up because Ned and Betty have already started moving everything into the lobby.

After it’s all inside and not available to be swiped by anyone walking or driving down the street, they decide to take turns carrying stuff up to the fourth floor. (Fourth? MJ could swear she was told second.) One person stays with the remainder of Peter’s stuff while the other three lug boxes and chairs and, eventually, the dreaded oak dresser. She’s too focused on maintaining a brisk pace to really check out his apartment—beyond noting the large windows and protruding edge of the kitchen countertop (that catches her in the stomach while she’s squeezing around a box Ned left too close to the front door). It wouldn’t matter. Layout and organization haven’t been much on her mind since Peter Parker stepped out from behind that truck.

This process isn’t supposed to be a spectacle, but people notice Peter, and Peter, ever the neighbourhood Spider-Man, notices people.

A man exiting through the lobby nods towards Peter’s desk and starts a conversation about materials and quality. MJ almost trips up the stairs with a box in her arms as she hears him say, “Yeah, I’ve got more wood than I know what to do with.” Betty, on her way down, catches her eye and gives her a funny look.

“You’re sweating.”

“It’s hot,” she fires back.

Ned’s above, guiding one end of the couch, and Peter and MJ are heaving the other (mostly Peter) when a different dude narrowly gets past them on a landing, only to turn around and remark on the wonder of them being able to maneuver it. “It’s long,” Peter agrees, “but I’ve fit this thing into some pretty tight places.” Right after, he asks MJ if she needs a break. She’s fine. She only almost dropped her corner of the couch because her hand cramped.

As she’s taking a final box through the door of his apartment, she overhears, “I’ll let him choose the position. What do I know? I’m happy to put it anywhere. The only thing I can be trusted to be in charge of is making sure it’s well-hung.” Stumbling forward, she sees that Peter (who just spoke) and Betty are admiring a large, framed print of him and Ned in cap and gown, clutching diplomas. MJ grabs a bottle of water from the case they carried up here at the beginning—it’s lukewarm, but practically glacial compared to the temperature of her face right now—and asks her friend if she wants to step outside to get a little air before they continue.

Leaning against the wall of the building, MJ chugs some of her water, then hands it off to Betty. While her friend’s drinking, she says, “So, he’s gay, right?”

Betty catches the water that slops down onto her chin.

“What?”

“Peter. He’s gay.”

“I’ve seen him with guys when we’ve all gone to the bar together—”

MJ breathes deeply in relief. She needs him to be gay; the knowledge will quell how she feels when he utters these outrageous, completely explainable sentences, or when he walks ahead of her up the stairs and she’s forced to stare at his ass for four floors, or when she remembers that look he gave her before they started moving everything.

“—but Ned mentioned a serious girlfriend Peter had in high school, so I think he’s bi. Oh my god,” Betty adds in a tone of realization that scares the hell out of MJ. “You want him.”

It takes rapid backtracking and a convincing presentation of the facts (those being every suggestive thing Peter’s said today and leaving out the part about his ass) to wipe the excited look off her friend’s face.

“So, you’ve just been misunderstanding him. And eavesdropping.”

“Can we call it eavesdropping if he has nothing to hide?”

“Fine,” Betty says, rolling her eyes. “It’s not eavesdropping because he has nothing to hide. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known Ned and, yeah, he might have an entire second identity, but the guy’s an open book. Peter couldn’t be sly if his life depended on it. He’s a goof, MJ. He’d never say that kind of stuff for real.”

Except that they hike back up to the apartment together and Peter’s voice drifts into the kitchen from one of the rooms down the hall, making the women halt and lock eyes.

“Remember how many backpacks May bought you in high school?” Ned chuckles. “This reminds me of that.”

“I do go through a lot of headboards. I’m not trying to break them, but I always put my legs into it too much and I just go so deep.”

“The room,” Betty babbles next to her, gripping her wrist. “I’m sure he’s talking about the depth of the room, coming in through the window too quickly from patrol.”

“It’s easy for you to tell yourself that,” MJ points out. “You’re engaged. You have no reason to think about Peter like that.”

Ned emerges and heads straight for Betty. These two are so gross together that neither of them protests against being hugged, though they’re sweaty from labour. With his arm around her friend’s waist, Ned turns to address MJ.

“Are you hanging around for a while?”

“Yeah, definitely. I can help unpack,” she pledges.

“Great. I know Peter’d like to get curtains put up for privacy today too, because, you know, being Spider-Man and having all these windows don’t really go well together, and you’re the tallest. He’ll probably want your help.”

She’d rather be assigned the task of choosing which kitchen cupboard will hold his plates, his glasses, the cans of premade soup she imagines Spider-Man relies on when he’s always darting around at night, too busy to devote a lot of time to making dinner. But she’s here to help. It’s not her apartment; she’ll go where she can be useful (any maybe do some sneaky rearranging later if he makes dumb organizational choices).

“Babe,” Ned says to Betty, “I’m going on a beer run—and maybe tacos, do you feel like tacos?—do you wanna come with me?”

“Of course, babe, but I don’t want…”

She looks at MJ, who’s trying to be inconspicuous, sorting the boxes labelled ‘KITCHEN’ from those labelled ‘LIVING ROOM’.

“One sec,” Betty tells her fiancé, walking over to MJ. “Will you be alright here if we go out for food?”

“Mhmm.”

Without glancing over, she plucks the X-Acto knife from her overall pocket and slices through packing tape to reveal nested pans, cloaked in mismatched dishtowels to prevent scraping during transport. The combination of careful and slapdash makes her smile to herself.

“It’s rush hour now, so I’m not sure how long we’ll be,” Betty warns.

“That’s fine.”

“I think we all need a little fuel before we settle in to unpack.”

“Yeah.”

“MJ,” her friend says sharply.

“What?”

“Are you ok being alone with Peter for a while?”

“Yes,” MJ says, rolling her eyes. “He’s Ned’s best friend and he’s Spider-Man, not some random creep. I’m not afraid he’s going to jump me. Anyway, I have this.” She waggles the knife.

“I’m more worried about you jumping him.”

She narrows her eyes at Betty.

“Have a little respect for my self-control.”

Her friend just shrugs.

“I’d understand. There’s the allure of him being a superhero and, more importantly, the fact that Ned and I can both vouch for him being a genuinely great guy.”

MJ narrows her eyes even more, this time in suspicion.

“Is this a moving day or a blind date?”

“Oh please.”

“That’s not an answer. Betty,” she presses, but her friend turns and grabs Ned’s hand. The wave as they leave the apartment is mockingly innocent.

Alone, MJ darts a glance down the hall, where she knows Peter is still doing whatever in the bedroom. She’s not going to race in there like some glassy-eyed fangirl. Even if Betty does endorse him so warmly, and he does seem so down-to-earth, and his ass does look like that in his jeans. She lifts his cookware out, one piece at a time, then moves on to the tangled jumble of utensils in the next box, trying to separate a pair of tongs from a warped spatula. She doesn’t hear Peter walk into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says suddenly from behind her.

MJ jumps and holds up the tongs threateningly, but her hand falls as she stares at him. He’s wiping sweat from his neck with the hem of his navy t-shirt. There are his abs and the taut skin below his navel.

“If you have a minute, could you give me a hand with this rod? I can’t get it up on my own.”

Her gaze springs up to his face and she stares at him.

“Huh?”

“The… curtain rod?” Peter says. “I can stand on a chair to do the one end, but I can’t do both ends at once. Do you think you could—”

“Yeah, sure.”

His smile is pleasant and relieved and MJ follows him into the bedroom like he hit her with some sort of magic spell, not just artless, unintentional dirty talk. She sets the tongs down on the floor by the wall; whoops.

“Warm in here,” she notes as she sidesteps a clear plastic tote of Peter’s clothes.

“Yeah, I was gonna open the window, but I didn’t know if the humidity would only make it worse.”

MJ watches as he gestures with one hand and props the other on his hip, hiking up his t-shirt to hook his thumb in the waist of his jeans. She encourages him to go ahead and risk it. The space is unbearable without at least the illusion of fresh air. She redoes her drooping ponytail, feeling new sweat slide down the nape of her neck as Peter crouches and jerks the window up from its sticky sill. Her gaze, and possibly her mind, gets lost somewhere in the breadth of his shoulders. His triceps look as hard and as perfectly rounded as the rolling pin that was still in the box when she left the kitchen. Emptying her chest pocket of odds and ends—knife, scissors, permanent marker, Allen key—MJ unbuckles her overalls, letting the straps and the bib hang down. The buttons on the hips keep the pants part up, but she can’t stand to have the whole thing closing her in any longer. She can’t breathe.

They each take an end of the curtain rod and Peter uses his knees to climb onto his nightstand, already positioned against the wall. It’s overkill because he’s not that much shorter and MJ can hook her end into the bracket without even having to get up on her toes. She’s done first and turns to look at Peter, kneeling on the nightstand with his thighs apart. She pictures joining him on that narrow surface, straddling his lap. God. How long have Betty and Ned been gone?

Then again, why fight it?

“Having some trouble getting it in?” she asks.

The rod clunks against the wall as Peter whips his head around to look slightly down at her.

“Your rod,” MJ clarifies. “You want me to take over? I can handle it.” At his continued dumbstruck silence, she goes on. “Or I can just direct you from here. You could try working it back and forth a little until you get the perfect angle. Then I’m sure it’ll ease right in.”

He hardly seems aware when the curtain rod falls into place. After a few extra moments of immobility, he dismounts and swishes the semi-sheer curtain across the window. She can feel his eyes on her, tracing the strip of stomach between the bottom of her crop-top and the folded-over denim of her overalls.

“What’s next?” she asks. “Maybe go into the bathroom and investigate the plumbing? Or, you know what, I didn’t finish unpacking your utensils. Would you rather go back to the kitchen and get your hands on my box?”

“What are you doing?”

It sounds like his chest is tight, like he’s forcing the words out. MJ smiles gently at the real-life superhero into whose apartment she has miraculously been deposited for today and perhaps only today.

“Helping.”

“Did you have to call it handling my rod?”

“Did you have to tell me you couldn’t get it up without me?” she challenges.

Peter’s mouth falls open and he makes a choked sound of protest, but she raises her eyebrows at him, daring him to argue.

“You asked me for a hand with your rod,” MJ presses. “That was you. You started it. And it wasn’t even then, it was hours ago. What is there in this apartment that you haven’t made some sort of phallic reference to?!”

“I… did I? I’ve been doing that?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Spidey. Own it or don’t, but don’t pretend you haven’t heard some of the shit you’ve said today.”

“Are you offended?” he asks, avoiding her eyes, but not her body; he takes his time staring at that.

“I might be if you don’t do anything about it,” she huffs. “I’d hate to think that Spider-Man’s all words and no action.”

“I’m off-duty.” A sly smile.

“We can just talk,” MJ says casually, thinking that she’ll possibly die of heat exhaustion and unresolved sexual tension if they stand around chatting. “Why don’t you tell me how Spider-Man’s managed to crack so many headboards?”

He shoots her the same kind of look he gave her on the sidewalk.

“It wasn’t always Spider-Man.”

She smirks and gives him a look of her own.

“Then why don’t you show me?”

It’s the honesty in his expression that she appreciates as Peter surges towards her, grabbing her face between both hands and kissing her urgently. She grips his waist and scrunches his t-shirt in her hands. At the first little pause they take to snatch a breath, she peels the shirt up and he yanks it off the rest of the way.

“Nice,” she breathes, stroking his torso with her gaze before adding her hands.

He gives her a jerky nod of acknowledgement and goes for her shirt. Tugging it off screws up her ponytail again, but she doesn’t have time to care; Peter’s kissing her, wet and demanding, while he reaches around and fumbles to unhook her bra. When he nudges his hips against her, she feels him. He’s been making sideways insinuations about his dick all day (whether he admits it to her or not), and here’s the real deal at last. MJ presses her tongue slickly into his mouth, eyelashes fluttering at the urge to open her eyes and see what kind of face he’s making to accompany the groan he lets out as she deepens the kiss. As he draws the straps of her unfastened bra down her arms, she regretfully takes her hands off his chest, swiftly unbuttoning her overalls. Left side buttons, then right. Peter hampers her by grabbing her ass and rolling his hips forward as she’s trying to get her pants down. She doesn’t discourage him. It’s thrilling that he’s handsy.

The room’s a mess—not dirty, thankfully, and she assumes he must’ve come on another day to vacuum and clean, but with a short, uneven stack of boxes in one corner, the container of clothing, the box spring and mattress leaning together against the wall, and the headboard, poking out of the closet because he hasn’t put his bedframe together yet. MJ hates disorganization, especially when it fucks with the logistics of what has all the promising tempo and quick chemistry of a fantastic hookup.

“We could just…” He huffs, lifting his mouth off her neck where he’s started licking and sucking. “…tip the mattress onto the floor?”

She’s taken aback by the idea of fucking Spider-Man on a mattress in the middle of his mess of a bedroom. With the curtain as the only thing to show they made any progress in this room before giving in to their libidos. But she’s in her underwear, overalls ringing her ankles, and the man beneath the famous mask looks hot as hell when he’s been kissed hard and riled into an expectant erection. How else are they going to pass the time before their friends return? Fanning out magazines on his coffee table?

“Let’s do that,” she agrees.

They work as a team to control its fall. The room’s carpeted, so the mattress doesn’t make much of a sound beyond a soft thump when it hits the floor. MJ frowns at it thoughtfully. “You don’t have sheets.”

“Fuck sheets,” Peter says, half declaration, half laugh, and walks across the mattress to get to her.

She smiles against his mouth because it’s funny that he’s momentarily taller, standing on the mattress while her feet are still on the floor. Good thing he’s already taken his shoes off. MJ pulls away and drops to unlace her own sneakers, very, very aware of the rasp of Peter unzipping his jeans right above her head. She steps out of her shoes and overalls, then frees her hair of the elastic, flinging it spontaneously across the room, tousling her hair in her hands to fight the tingling of her scalp as she straightens up.

Oh. He’s already stripped his boxers off.

If her mouth actually does fall open as dramatically as it feels like it just has, it’s fine. MJ forgives herself. You’re supposed to be embarrassed after meeting a celebrity, wincing over every rambling sentence you blurted at them and every awkward twitch in your high-strung body language. Only you will ever recall your spastic behaviour. The celebrity forgot you the moment you exited their line of sight. Wait, will Peter mark her down as a horny fan and forget her? She hasn’t known him long enough to separate the man from the heroic icon, but she hopes neither side of his identity involves treating a partner like that. But no. Doesn’t matter. She can overanalyze later. Peter takes her hands and guides her onto the mattress where they make out standing up for a few minutes—him hot and rigid against her stomach, her not quite naked—before things get so heated that they collapse with roaming hands (Peter) and trembling knees (MJ).

For such a wholesome figure, Spider-Man curses wildly as he slides her underwear off, nose skimming down her skin from between her breasts to below her bellybutton while he works.

“You… you look…” he pants, propping himself up on his hands just to admire her. She has to confess, to herself alone, that it’s flattering, that it’s already making her want more of this: reckless afternoon sex in her friend’s fiancé’s best man’s new apartment. “God, I’m so glad you—”

“Called your bluff?” she suggests wryly.

“And everything before that. I’m so glad you were standing on the sidewalk when I got out of that truck.”

Well. That’s a little earnest. Then again, the man is hovering over her in the nude, so they’re in the heat-of-the-moment realm, during which time, comments of disconcerting earnestness do not count, or can be retracted later with no fault to either party.

To counteract it, MJ teases, “Are you saying you’re glad I came?”

“I’m glad you didn’t immediately leave when I said that thing about my wood,” he confides, kissing swiftly back up to her chest and using nothing but his tongue to toy with her breasts. She gasps at the sudden pull of his teeth, then laughs.

“So you were saying that shit on purpose.”

“Don’t be mad that I was too intimidated by your hotness to flirt with you to your face.”

His tone is playfully giddy and she likes this guy, she really does. She gets a good grip on his soft brown curls and tows him up for more kissing. Her knees bump his bare hips as she forms a cradle for him to drop into. Hint, hint.

Luckily, Spider-Man knows his cue.

He rocks between her legs and her chest rises and falls like breathing is a massive exertion. His angle is almost just right, so MJ shuffles and shifts and he’s endlessly patient as she rubs against him from below, testing. Well, not endlessly patient. The instant she moans in satisfaction, he’s got a hand wrapped desperately around her hip as he grinds down with tenacity. Right. This isn’t just any hookup, any guy. This is the guy who makes a career out of not backing down. Heat flows through her at the sudden thought of being handled with the intensity of one of Spider-Man’s mission.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says as she feels the head of him slip lower, skipping across her entrance. “Condom.”

Intense, and kind of a lustful dumbass.

“Right,” he agrees, flushed when he raises his face from where he’s been breathing in the scent of her hair. “I have one, uh, in my wallet.”

And then he doesn’t break away from her for a good ten seconds, like he’s hoping she’ll let him slide in bare. Horny motherfucker. MJ wants to screw Spider-Man, not birth his crime-fighting offspring. She tucks her chin and gives him a look that promises, as much as it would pain her, this thing is shutting down here and now if he doesn’t wrap it up. With a resigned exhalation (and a little smile implying he knows what he was trying to get away with), Peter pushes off of her and goes to dig around in the pocket of his jeans. She rolls onto her stomach to study the ropy musculature of his thighs. When he extracts the condom with a triumphant burst of sound, she flips onto her back again and watches him trip over the jeans he just dropped. There’s a charming contrast between this unexpected klutziness and her assumption that he could pull anybody with a pulse using those trusting brown eyes and his Avengers status.

He crouches beside MJ and doesn’t take his eyes off her, flapping the condom between his fingers.

“Should I put this on or do you wanna put it on me?”

She presents her palm.

“Give me that. You can’t even be trusted to install a curtain rod.”

“Oh, I’m extremely ready to install a rod,” he says eagerly, watching her tear the condom open and reach for his waiting cock.

“You know, you’re a real dork for a guy with those commitments and that ass.”

“Thank you?”

Before his uncertainty can swell to self-congratulations, MJ rolls the condom roughly down his dick, making him heave and shake, hips bucking into her perfunctory hold. Smirking, she closes her fist and pumps him quickly, eyes on the blank bliss on his face, his slack jaw. After a brisk minute of this, he begs her to slow down, then, still kneeling at her side, cups between her legs and starts fondling her at an even more vigorous pace than she was using on him. Her breaths come in hiccups and she can’t point out how unfair this is. Just as she’s arching for more, thinking she’s about to come faster than she ever has in her life, Peter stops cold.

“Are you ready to—”

MJ glares and knocks him back onto his ass, then scrambles onto his lap, continuing to push him down until his shoulders touch the mattress. His expression is cheerily confused.

“I was this close,” she says, pinching her fingers together until they nearly touch. When her complaint brings an impish smile to Peter’s face, she pinches those fingers around his nipple, so he hisses and curls into himself. Shaking her head at him, she takes hold of his erection and eases down onto his lap. His ecstatic chant of, “Oh man, oh man, oh man,” is moderately distracting, but MJ persists. It’s just who she is: stoic.

“God,” he groans beneath her as she begins swaying forward and back, “this is almost as good as catching the midnight opening of a new Star Wars.”

She covers his mouth with her hand and he laughs behind it.

“I was just trying to lean into your perception of me. I’m kidding.”

“Are you though?”

But she frees him for the noises he makes. Some of these grunts and whimpers scale her spine like a ladder, raising goosebumps as they go, until the whole sensation comes shivering back down and she finds herself riding him harder.

“Firm mattress,” she huffs.

“’S new. The last one was awful on my back and—ughhhhhhhohfuuuck—with the hazards of my line of work, I figured I gotta start taking care of myself.”

“If you won’t, I will,” MJ mumbles, curving forward to lick his chest, charting it all under her tongue, as she continues to shove back against him.

“Fuck,” he says, short and sharp. He seizes her hips and rolls her beneath him. “You should know, you taking control is a big turn on for me.”

“Clearly.”

She’s not sure how much sarcasm comes across in her gasp because his manhandling has knocked the wind out of her. Actually, she’s happy to let him steer things; being on top was starting to remind her legs of every step she’s walked up and down in this apartment building today, carrying Peter’s shit. He kneads some of the tightness away when he grasps her thigh and digs in with a roll of his fingers. Her moan is as much in relief as arousal. Then he starts thrusting so fast and deep that he has to pull her back towards him every so often so she isn’t forced off the mattress. The hum leaving her mouth is somewhere between breathing and moaning, one note that drags on and on, jumping and breaking when he catches her mouth in sloppy, ravenous kisses.

He’s still doing his damnedest to make out with her when her lips part with a genuine shriek. The tickle of Peter’s tongue against the roof of her mouth somehow adds to the sensation, like a high vibration over the low thrum of him drilling in and out of her. MJ comes seconds into the beginning of her scream; Peter comes with a crack. The sheer force of her orgasm—Spider-Man is clearly not without finesse, he simply does not choose to employ it in favour of fucking like he’s a sportscar running a red on a highspeed chase—has her too stunned to figure out why the sound accompanying his was wrong.

“What was that?” she asks hazily as Peter slumps over her body, breathing hard and still gently thrusting. He’s sweaty, but so is she. With something like pride, she realizes he’ll have to go to sleep tonight with his mattress soaked in her scent.

“Leg slipped,” he says.

MJ does vaguely recall that. In the midst of her climax, he’d moved. It wasn’t enough to distract her, so she’d focused on the feeling, as well as the resolution to not let him get her that close to the edge a second time without going over it.

“And hit what?”

“Uhhh…”

He doesn’t appear to know either, with his bleary, punch-drunk expression that’s unfortunately pretty adorable. No, no, no. A hand with moving, a hasty fuck, and she’s out. The whole day’s been extremely worth her while. She tells herself she doesn’t need more.

But Peter rolls off and she misses his weight and warmth, his shape and soft eyes. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress with his knees folded high when he goes, “Shit,” under his breath.

Because he also happens to be handling condom-removing at the time, MJ sits up fast, in a panic.

“Did it break?”

His posture inflates with a deep breath, then sags.

“Yeah. I don’t think there’s any way to salvage it.”

Salvage it? That’s a weird fucking thing to say in the situation, like it could possibly matter whether or not they were able to repair the condom after he’s already come inside her. Still, MJ’s skeptic nature makes her grab Peter’s shoulder and wrench it back, only to see the tied-off condom dangling between his fingers. It looks intact. She grips his chin and turns him to look at her.

“What do you mean it’s broken? It’s not in tatters. It’s not leaking.”

“What?” He squints at her, then follows her gaze to the condom. “Oh, not the condom. My headboard.”

Sure enough, she looks up and there’s his headboard, still protruding from the closet, but now in two pieces. The closest is on a slow, sad slide to the floor. He must’ve kicked it. MJ laughs breathlessly.

“Oh, thank god.” Abruptly, she’s pissed. “I thought you were talking about the condom! You don’t scare a woman like that!”

“You thought the condom broke?”

“You had it in your hands and said ‘shit’ in this horrible way and I thought…” She sighs.

“We could’ve made it work,” Peter argues, making her nostrils flare as she puts her underwear back on. “Our baby would be super cute.”

“Our baby?! We met hours ago.”

“I’ve developed stronger bonds in less time,” he says with a shrug, leisurely getting up and sliding his boxers up his legs. Nice ass. No. “You’d be surprised how soon after meeting me some of the villains in this city get themselves so worked up that they wanna kill me.”

She yanks her t-shirt over her head with silent ire. Then has to take it off again because she forgot to put her bra on first.

“Quit looking like that. Nothing happened to you.” Peter’s mouth turns down as he glances over to the wreckage of his headboard. “I have to replace that. Again.”

MJ’s seriously about to snap at this idiot for his insane priorities when he straights up stiffly as he’s stepping into the legs of his jeans.

“They’re back.”

“Who? Betty.”

“And Ned,” he says, now moving faster, doing the fly, throwing his own t-shirt on.

“Inside out,” she says. Not to be helpful, just so that Peter doesn’t give away exactly what they’ve been doing with their time since their friends left.

She goes to swat him when he comes towards her, but then his fingers are buttoning one side of her overalls while she does the other. MJ’s just clicked the straps back into place when the front door opens and closes. Sourness fading, she gives Peter a grateful nod for his help.

“Wait,” she hisses. “Where’s the condom?”

On the instruction of some bizarre reflex, he grabs it from the floor and whips it clear across the room, sending it sailing out the window. Her jaw drops in horror.

“I can’t believe you just—"

“Guys?” Betty calls. “The Mexican place up the street was closed, so we just hit the liquor store for now. How’s the bedroom coming?”

MJ and Peter race to the door; she pulls it closed so fast that it smacks him in the ass, but then he gives her this stupid look like he liked it. And here’s Betty.

“You’re sweaty,” she notes. “Been working hard? You guys get the curtain up?”

“Yep,” MJ says honestly. “No problem.”

Her friend beams in satisfaction, but her expression shifts to conspiratorial as she links her arm through MJ’s and starts to guide her towards the kitchen, likely wanting to know if Peter said anything else colourful during her absence. Except that moron decides to pipe up from right behind them.

“And when we finished with the curtain, we moved on to the bed.”

“You did what?” Ned demands from the kitchen, then comes hurtling around the corner.

“No,” Peter gasps. He flings himself back to the bedroom door and blocks it, holding both hands out to keep his best friend back.

“MJ?” Betty questions with a growing grin.

She glances between the three of them for a moment and realizes there’s no way Peter’s keeping this secret. Time to go on the defensive.

“You brought me here,” MJ argues. “I can’t be blamed for my weakness for organizing—”

“Oh,” Betty shoots back. “For organizing and not for—”

“—apartments. All I—”

“—Peter, who you were so clearly attracted to from the instant you saw him?”

“—wanted to do was—”

“Me?” Peter says, taking a hopeful stab in answer to MJ’s explanation.

She glares at him.

“You flirted shamelessly with me all day—”

“You didn’t even realize I was flirting.”

“—so how am I supposed to help it if— Oh,” MJ says, catching the end of that comment, “and is that supposed to negate the effect it had?”

“I loved the effect it had. I have nothing to say against it.”

“How did you two go from shy teenagers sneaking glances at each other to an old married couple within the last half-hour?” Ned asks, jubilant.

“You’d have to ask my new neighbours,” Peter says calmly. “I think the scream they overheard is probably enough of an explanation.”

“That scream was on you,” MJ protests.

“And the noise complaint I’ll probably get is on you!”

“Sounds like you two should exchange numbers,” Betty suggests brightly. “In case you need to follow up for that noise complaint.” They both look at her. Then, MJ withdraws her phone from the back pocket of her overalls and pushes it into Peter’s hand.

“Fine,” she says.

He agrees with a shrug, eyes on the screen as he taps out his information.

“Come on, you crazy kids,” Ned coos, “let’s grab a beer while they’re still hot from the walk back.”

Betty giggles at this and twines her fingers through her fiancé’s.

In the kitchen, she pulls MJ aside right as MJ’s contemplating squeezing past Peter a second time on the pretext of getting ice. (The first time, she pressed her ass to his groin and felt him rub against her in response.) She didn’t even need the ice; she dumped it straight into the sink.

“So, how was that?” Betty asks, searching MJ’s face keenly for approval and recognition of a job well done.

“Perfect,” MJ has to grant her. “He did something incredibly irritating right before you guys got back, so I’m sure he found my annoyance entirely organic.”

“Method number sixty-three for getting a guy’s number still works like a charm. Though you know you could’ve just asked me for it.”

“Yeah, but messing with him was more fun.”

Her friend smiles against the lip of her bottle.

“Do you feel bad?”

“Nah. He’s been messing with me all day.”

“Hey, MJ,” Peter calls to her from where he and Ned have started emptying another box marked ‘KITCHEN’. “You wanna help me screw something to the wall later?” Smiling broadly, he waves a magnetic wall-mounted knife holder.

“Like that,” MJ stresses to Betty, then tosses her bottle cap so it bounces off Peter Parker’s stupid, smug, handsome face.

[zwowow]

this might be very triggering so its fine if u dont do it, but kells self harming secretly and em finding out and kells thinks he’s gonna be mad but em is comforting instead

sorry for the ask, im the same anon that went thru a break up and it aint going well

tw: self harm 

I’m sorry my love, break ups are rough and it really sounds like ur goin thru it. sorry this took a while! but hopefully you’ve had time to heal a bit between sending this ask nd now. 

psa to all I’ve never self harmed, so i’m just hoping this captures the idk headspace? alright :/ 

He started when he was a teenager. That’s how long he’s been doing this shit. It’s fucking shameful that he hasn’t grown out of it in over a decade, but it’s also one of the only things that’s consistently soothed him. When weed isn’t enough to calm him, or shake him from a spiral of self-loathing, he always comes back to this. Not because it makes him feel better, but because it makes him feel something. 

He can focus on the pain and only the physical pain. His emotions, the real world shit he has to deal with, can fall to the side for a moment and he can revel in the hurt. The hurt that he has control over. 

That’s a part of it, too. Control. So much of the existential pain he feels is beyond what he himself can change. Everyone gets to have an opinion on him, and regardless if it’s good or bad, he has to know it and internalize it. He has no choice. Time moves on and he can’t control what his past self has done, but the regret eats him alive. His head spins when he thinks about all of the shit that’s wrong in his life that he no longer has the power to change. 

But the harm he does himself? Knowingly and methodically? It’s all controlled. He’s got it all under control. 

Or at least he did. Recently, he’s had the itch to hurt more and more frequently. There’s so much going on in his life that he’s no longer in control of even the one thing that makes him feel grounded. The old scars and fresh wounds are getting harder to hide. Even on his inked skin, raised bumps and sensitive bruises are easy to find when his boyfriend spends all of his time roaming his hands gently over his body. 

But Em can’t find out. Colson refuses to let him. He’d think Colson is pathetic (he is). He’d be disgusted by him (he should be). He’d hate him (but he couldn’t hate him more than Colson hates himself). 

He tries not to hurt himself around Em because of this, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Sometimes he needs it. 

Colson sneaks out of bed one night at Em’s place while his boyfriend is sleeping. On his way out, he grabs his small bag that has just a few of the items he uses to hurt himself. His fingers shake around the bag and his breath quickens in his chest. 

Ain’t it funny that the shame he feels from doing this just makes him want to do it more? 

When he makes it to a bathroom far enough away from Em’s room that he doubts he would make the effort to find him all the way down here, he lays the bag on the counter and opens it up. 

This hadn’t started with the razor blades and lighters he keeps in the bag. He’s worked himself here from pulling out his leg hair and scratching his own arms raw just to feel the sting. The older and more well known he got, the more out of control he felt, and from there he made the jump from nervous ticks to genuine self harm. 

He used to starve himself, too. He thinks back to only a couple of years ago and picks up the lighter. He could go days without eating, even while on tour. There were times where he’d pass out after shows from the hunger, but he’d write it off to others as exhaustion. That had been one of the most pleasing ways to hurt himself. The gentle build up to physical depletion to match what he felt emotionally was fulfilling in a way he couldn’t possibly explain to anyone. 

And that’s why he stopped. Em started to catch on. He started to ask questions no one had asked before. He was obsessed with feeding Colson and keeping him healthy. 

Colson started eating regularly because Em would’ve hated to know his not eating wasn’t just absent-minded forgetting. He would’ve been so disappointed to find out it was deliberate starvation. Colson didn’t want to disappoint Em. 

He still doesn’t. Colson puts the lighter on the counter and takes out one of his blades, too. Em would hate to see this. He wouldn’t understand. 

Inhaling shakily through his nose, Colson looks between his two options for tonight. He leaves the blade on the counter and picks up the lighter. Em is sure to notice if he has a fresh cut. A burn is easier to hide. 

He flicks the lighter to life and is deciding where to hold it on his body when he hears the first knock. 

“Kells.” Shit. He loosens his grip on the lighter and the flame goes out. 

What is Em doing out of bed, and what the fuck is he doing down here?

“Kells,” Em tries again, “You good?” 

“I’m fine.” He lies. 

“Are you fucking smoking in there?” Outside, Em’s voice grows suspicious. He heard the lighter go on and now he thinks Colson is smoking weed in his bathroom. That would be easier to explain. 

After too long of a pause he says, “No.” 

Em doesn’t give a warning before he throws open the bathroom door. Colson wants to knock his head into the mirror for not thinking to lock it. He dives for the blade on the counter, but Em is staring right at it. 

“What the fuck?” Em looks between Colson and the counter multiple times. It’s a stupid overdramatic response, but he wants to slit his fucking wrists from that look. 

Em’s brow furrows. Colson feels sick to his stomach. Em is pissed at him. He’s disgusted by him. He doesn’t know whether to throw him out or call a mental hospital. He hates him. He must be so angry. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out. I was trying to hide it. I shouldn’t have done it here. I know it’s fucking sick. I know it’s fucking crazy to cut and burn myself, I know but I...” Excuses and apologies trip over each other running off of his tongue. 

“You’re cutting yourself?” Em interrupts him. His intense gaze sweeps over Colson. He’s not disgusted or angry like he’d thought. He’s shocked, confused, and even a bit hurt. 

“I... yeah.”

“Why?” A loaded question like that shoots Colson right through the chest. Why? He can hardly answer the question to himself, how is he supposed to explain it to Em?

Em said it himself, he was just clownin’ when talking about cutting himself, how fucked up does someone have to be to actually do that? Colson doesn’t want to explain to Em how fucked up he is.

When he doesn’t answer, Em looks back down at the blade and then at the lighter still in his hand. Kells sees the thousands of things he wants to say and the million questions he wants to ask in his eyes. Finally his eyes set, and Kells braces himself for the next thing to come out of Em’s mouth. 

“Don’t do that shit tonight, yeah? Just come back to bed.” The response shocks Colson even more silent than he’d been. Does he still want to know why, or is he just dropping it? 

As if reading his mind, Em shrugs, “You can tell me why when you’re ready. Tonight, I just want to cuddle your ass.” He holds out his hand to Colson and laces their fingers together tightly when he grabs on. Em tugs him gently out of the bathroom and down the hall back to his room. Colson leaves the lighter and the blade on the counter. 

When they’re back in bed, Em holds him differently than he has before, His arm feels weighted, it presses Colson gently down into the bed, unable to move from the hold. Em holds him from behind protectively and breathes into Colson’s neck. It’s so close it’s almost claustrophobic, but Colson wouldn’t pull away from it even if he could. The urge to hurt himself is immediately replaced by the need to burrow in closer to Em’s grounding touch. 

He falls asleep easily, letting the last of his shame and fear at Em’s reaction leave his body without a fight. 

In the morning, he goes to clean his stuff up in the bathroom, or to throw it away, but not to use it. When he gets there, the bag, the razor, and the lighter are nowhere to be found. Instead of being anxious at the loss, he feels a bit calmed by it. 

This isn’t the end. He won’t be able to stop hurting himself just because Em got rid of a few of his blades and one of his many designated lighters, but it is a start. 

Em knows now, he’s looking out for it. And if the way he always acts toward him, from the making sure Colson is eating to the cuddle last night is any indication, he’ll be there when Colson needs it. He’ll take care of him. 

[rebel-without-cause-x]

Fight For Love

Jax Teller x Chibs Telford x Reader

Requested by: @chibsytelford​ I have a request - Chibs and Jax want the same woman - she doesn't know them, so they compete for her attention by like buying her flowers or whatnot. You can decide who wins her, if either of them do!

Taglist: @talicat713​ @nothingeverdies​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @teapartydreams​ @corebore123​ @khyharah​ @itmejado​

Parking your car in an empty space you slowly climbed out, every part of your body that could be crossed was right now. You was in desperate need of a job and ever since you moved to charming you had no luck that was until you heard Teller-Morrow was looking for a new mechanic. You literally jumped at the chance, cars where your life, blood and soul.

Glancing back at your car you smirked at the candy red fiesta ST shining proudly in the sun.

"You don't see many of them over here" a women smiled "is it an import?"

"Yeah she is" you smiled "couldn't live without my beast, what gave it away, the plates or the fact it's right hand drive"

"Both" she laughed "I'm Gemma"

"Y/N" you smiled "I phoned up about the mechanic position"

"Okay follow me sweetie, I will show you around the lot then we will have a chat" Gemma nodded.

As you was walking around the actual garage, you saw someone struggling, mainly because they had the wrong tool.

"I don't mean to intrude but try using the ratchet with the extender and the 20mm socket it will make your life easier" you smiled softly. "You will get slightly more leverage on the nut then it should crack"

"Thanks lass" the scott nodded swapping tools, a grinned formed on his face as he managed to finally get the blasted nut off. "How did ye know wha size from tha far away?"

"Cars are my passion, grew up working on them back home as my dad was a mechanic" you nodded, everyone always looked impressed that you knew your shit, mainly because there wasn't many female mechanics.

"I'm Filip by the way but everyone calls me Chibs" he smiled.

"Y/N" you nodded before following Gemma again.

Once she had shown your around she took you into the office, you was grateful it wasn't a proper interview.

"So from what you have told me, I am impressed with your knowledge not may girls know their way around an engine" she smiled "and I think you will be a good fit around here so can you start tomorrow?"

"Of course I can" you beamed "I can be here for 7.30, am I okay bringing my own tools?"

"Whatever makes you feel at home" Gemma smiled "I will get my son to follow you home and he can load them into the truck so you have them for morning, I will also get you some overalls and shirts with your name on"

"Thank you for this opportunity you won't regret it" you grinned at her.

After around 10 minutes a blond guy approached you.

"I'm assuming you are Y/N" he smirked.

"The one and only" you grinned lighting a smoke.

"Jax" he nodded "mom said you needed a hand moving some tools over"

"Urm yeah you might need to of yas" you smirked "let's just say I have a few"

"Not very often you get females in the mechanic game" Jax nodded as his eyes ran over your car "but something tells me you are a car girl"

"What gives that away" you laughed unlocking the car.

"Just a feeling" he winked "imma just get Chibs then we will follow you"

You leant against the wing of your car with a smirk on your face. Something told you that you was going to have fun working here. Seen as the two guys you had seen were very easy on the eye.

- - -

All the boys were chilling around the lot.

"It's nice to get another female around here" Jax laughed as he grabbed a beer.

"Aye, with ye on tha one" Chibs smirked "something tells me she's gunna fit in"

"Just one thing that's bugging me" Jax said sitting down "that accent"

"It's definitely a British accent but not sure where abouts" Chibs nodded. "Will ask her in the morning seen as Gem has asked me to be here for when she arrives"

Neither guy knew that they essentially were both infatuated with the same girl.

---

It had been a week since you had started at TM and you got on with the guys like a house on fire.

"Yo Y/N/N" Jax's voice boomed through the garage.

"Wha now Teller" You shouted from under the car you was working on "I'm kinda busy"

"Brought you lunch seen as you haven't stopped all day" He laughed

"Urm hate to brake it to you buddy" You laughed rolling out from under the car, grabbing your drink "Chibs beat you to it bout an hour ago"

"Bloody scott" Jax mumbled under his breath looking pissed off.

The last thing you needed was the boys starting a war over you.

"Jax it's fine, imma gal with a big appetite" You smiled taking the bag of food off him, instantly the smell of chicken nuggets hit you making your mouth water. "Thanks"

This had been going on for the last couple of days, one of them would buy you food or there would be two iced coffees sat on your tool chest when you rolled into work, you knew what was happening they were both trying to win you over. You wasn't going to lie you loved the attention. One day there was even a small bunch of flowers laying on your tool chest, you appreciated the gesture but flowers set your hayfever off but you didn't tell the lads that.

"You got any plans for tonight?" Jax asked offering you a smoke which you gratefully took. "There is a party tonight and you are part of this family now so you gotta come"

"I will be here" You nodded "But I will be working on the beast, she needs a tune up, new breaks and I've killed the tyres"

"That's cuz you race everywhere" Jax laughed. "I guess I will see you later yeah"

"Yuup" You nodded popping the p.

Not even 10 minutes later Chibs strolled up smiling at you.

"Ye need a hand Lass?" He asked leaning against the wall watching you bend over the engine.

"I'm good thanks Chibs just about done on this one" You nodded looking up at him.

"I might hang around for a bit if that's okay wi ye" He smirked.

"Knock yoursen out me duck" You winked

"You say some weird things" He chuckled shaking his head.

The party was in full swing, yet you was holed up in the garage, you was never one for parties, preferred the car scene, going to shows and meets but unfortunately none of that happened in Charming.

From outside the garage you heard arguing, but with your head in the engine bay you couldn't see who it was and could only faintly hear what they was talking about. Brushing it off you went back to working on your car.

It had got to the point where Jax and Chibs had ditched the party and was hanging with you. The banter was flowing and you was flirting with both as you all worked on your car until the early hours of the morning. 

---

Over the next month more gifts appeared, from flowers, chocolate, iced coffee, food. As much as you liked the attention, you didn’t know how much longer you would let it go on for. Both guys where constantly fighting for your attention and it was kinda making your head spin. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to choose, it’s was more you couldn’t choose, you had amazing connections with both guys and clicked over different things. Also you had been burnt badly in the past and wanted to give your heart a break from relationships.

Another day meant another argument between the two over you. Dropping your spanner on the floor, the sound of the metal hitting the concrete drew the attention of both guys.

“Look I am fucking flattered that you are both fighting for my attention but this needs to fucking stop” you said causing them to look shocked at your outburst. “I know what you are doing, all the gifts I walk in to, you are both tryna win me over”

“So who would you pick?” Jax asked cockily making you shake your head.

“Yeah me or him lass?” Chibs asked.

Sighing to yourself as you lent on the bonnet of the car you was working on, you hated being put on the spot. 

“Honestly neither of yas” you said watching their faces drop. “Look I moved from Derbyshire and over to Charming to escape my past, I was in a very volatile relationship, one that I finally put an end to after 10 years. So right now I don’t want love, I don’t want a relationship okay”

Both guys stared at you dumbfounded.

“You are both amazing and honestly if I had to chose I don’t think I would be able to, I click with both of you in different ways” you shrugged. “It was fun seeing how far you would take it, but now you are arguing over me every day I need to put a stop to it”

“A understand lass” Chibs nodded.

“So no more gifts, no more lunches” you smiled “well maybe don’t stop the iced coffees” you winked before getting back to work.

As the guys waked into the club house you could hear them bickering away like an old married couple. 

“We both know she would have chose me anyway” Jax laughed playfully pinching Chibs.

“Ye wish Jackie Boy” Chibs laughed.

You knew full well that whilst you was part of this crazy family they wouldn’t stop fighting for your attention. Let’s blame that on them other being alpha males. But you knew that you would never get bored whilst they tried to eventually to win you over.

[cursedwateringcan]

Fucking keen as to get the new version of Friends of Mineral town, cause, let me tell ya, i’ve had a fucking month.

(It’s covid related so, i’m putting it under a cut, just incase anyone wants to stay away from that shit. Also please don’t message me anything covid related because i’m pretty stressed atm, but I think its an important thing to share because this virus presents so differently in everyone.) 

So, basically. My husband and I are back in Aus. 

It was crazy being in the UK and being in lockdown (obviously very important!) We jumped on the plane in heathrow and had to wear masks for the entire 30 hours trip (also very important!!!) 

Australia currently has a scheme for new arrivals, it’s essentially forced quarantine. Its been really good for keeping rates down since the virus was being spread by overseas traveller (except for melbs, that fucked theres up, and is now in state lockdown. google it.). The government pays to put you up for 2 weeks in a hotel, and pays for all food provided (unless you get your own). This has literally just changed overnight though and they are now charging travels for mandatory lockdown in NSW. 

So, we get to Sydney, and its to nuts to see. A Bio security agent gets on the plane and takes a head count (maybe 50 on the plane all up). We all get off and line up for a health check, where a nurse takes your temp, asks if you have any symptoms currently and gives you information about potential symptoms. Then you go through immigration, and then you get taken to the baggage area. 

I am very privilege, I’ve travelled a lot, but i’ve never seen Sydney airport so empty before. Only one baggage carousel was open, after you grab your bags, you check in with the Australian Federal Police, who sits you in seats 2 metres away from each other, and you wait there for the NSW police to escort you to buses to take you to your lockdown hotel. 

We get called, get lead to a bus, the Army was also there putting bags onto buses. Jump on the bus and off you go, they don’t tell you where you are going, but we rocked up to a very nice hotel in the CBD. After checking in again with the NSW police, you get told your room number and we were taken to the room by a solider. We weren’t given a key, because you are not allowed to leave the room for two weeks. There are security guards on every floor and police in the lobby to enforce this. All meals are dropped at your door. You can get care packages and uber eats if you want, but you cannot under any circumstances leave the room. 

A nurse calls every day to check on your mental health and for symptoms, if you say you have any of the symptoms they test you. On day 10, they give you a covid test regardless of if you are showing symptoms or not. We had ours day 10, it came back negative and then on Day 13 we had a pre departure screening with nurses and the army. Day 14 we were out. My in laws picked us up, and we went back to my home town and had a small BBQ with our friends.

I should note, btw, that this was allowed. A lot of Australia’s restrictions in NSW have eased. 

On the Sunday, we woke up, and my husband said he wasn’t feeling so good, just run down we thought, we’d just spent 2 weeks in a hotel with no fresh air, and its winter. We went to a friends house for breakfast, and on the way home he said he was feeling way more congested. I said, even though we tested negative 4 days ago, we need to get another test. So we went to a drive through clinic and got another swab to be safe, called everyone who was at the BBQ to let them know this so they could stay inside for the day, just incase. 

Literally he had no cough or fever, it was like he had a slight head cold. The next day, we got the terrible phone call to say that the test results were back, and my husband was positive for covid. I was negative. 

Obviously, extremely stressful situation, we were staying with his 60 year parents. However, NSW health organised for us both to put up in another hotel, separately. So thats were I am now. We are on day 7 of another 2 week lockdown. My husband is feeling loads better, and it seems he has an extremely mild case of it. He did develop a cough a few days ago but its pretty much gone now. If he doesn’t have symptoms for 3 days as of tomorrow then he can leave the hotel thursday. 

I am still here till next tuesday, and all our close contacts are also isolating in their houses. We are going to stay away from everyone for another week when we get out, just to be sure. 

All our close contacts are fine as well so far as. Nurses call them daily to check up on them. A few of them have had swabs due to some symptoms but all swabs have come back negative. 

My husband was also on the news because of this! My home town has been covid free for 8 weeks, so there were all these articles about an ‘international traveller’ that had returned with the virus. Luckily, we didn’t go anywhere in the community. 

Basically, moral of the story is, in these crazy fucking times, just get tested, if your country will let you. Even if you’ve just got the sniffles. Its better to be safe than sorry. 

Also extremely grateful for the way Australia is dealing with it. Its not nice to be locked in a hotel for a month, but its important to do to make sure the community is safe!!

(I have a balcony this time btw, so does my husband, so we can get fresh air and sunshine!) 

[colbybrocksmolder]

A Video To My Future Wife - Colby Brock x Reader

Colby set the camera up, taking a minute to gather his thoughts.

“Hey guys, as you can tell by the title, this isn’t a normal video. Remember a few years ago when Sam and I made videos for each other to look back on when we’re older? Well this is another one of those. Kind of. But today, I’m going to make this for you. And for Y/n. The love of my life. The most beautiful human I’ve ever met, both inside and out.”

Colby ducked his head, smiling at how giddy he was to finally share you with the world. “A lot of you are very confused right now, I know. And I’m sorry. I’ve kept this part of my life off of YouTube for well over a year now and honestly? I don’t regret it one bit. It’s been the happiest year of my life so far. I know in my heart she’ll continue to make me my happiest self until literally one of us ceases to exist on this earth. I hope I die first because I don’t want to think about a life without her.”

Colby sighed, looking past the camera for a moment before cracking a smile. “If Y/n were home right now, she’d scold me for being so morbid. She doesn’t like when I talk about dying. She’d pull me into her arms, start listing reasons why it’s a waste of life to think about death. On my more stubborn emo days, she clings to me like a koala. Not a word of a lie. She’ll wrap her arms and legs around me and just talk. She once made it to like reason #56 that she thought I was adorable before I finally agreed to shower and leave the apartment. There’s no escaping the infectious joy she has inside her. I have yet to meet a single person who isn’t happier around her. I know a lot of you guys freak out whenever you hear dating rumors about me or see me with a female friend, but guys...you’re going to fucking love Y/n. So much. A handful of you guys already know her and I want to specifically thank you for keeping our secret. I’m just waiting for the photos you guys took with us to spread like wildfire now that it’s out in the open.”

Colby smiled, pulling out his phone to look at a picture the two of you had taken with a group of fans. “I’ll put this picture up on the screen so you can actually see it, but do you see this goober right here in the skeleton onesie? That’s y/n. You’re probably wondering why we’re all in our pajamas with a bunch of fans…Well that’s just a tiny glimpse into how kindhearted, selfless, and loving this girl is. We met a family one day while we were out. The two daughters and their friends happened to be fans of Sam and I. While I sat and talked to the girls for a minute, Y/n was sitting talking to their mom. Turns out these two girls had been through quite a rough year. The mom said that YouTube was what really kept them going. Y/n exchanged numbers with the mom and over the next few months kept in touch with the two girls. When the older sister’s birthday rolled around, Y/n had an idea. She talked with the mom and set up a little surprise movie night so that we could celebrate with the girls and their friends we had met with them. Her and Kat went out and got these goofy onesies for everyone, loads of snacks, games... Sam, Kat, Y/n, and I showed up and surprised them. It was awesome. Better than any Trap House party we’ve ever thrown.” Colby laughed.

Colby stared at the picture for a few seconds before locking his phone and putting it back in his pocket. “At this point, I already thought that I loved her. I was already convinced I had found my forever…but seeing her take time out of her insane schedule to go above and beyond to love on two random fans…When I tell you I was in awe of her, I mean it. I was a blushing, sweaty palmed, nervous boy. All night. The girl’s dad even pulled me to the side to whisper a ‘you’ve got it bad, kid’ to me.” Colby’s cheeks blushed with a hint of pink.

“And honestly? I have no fucking clue why she puts up with me.” Colby laughed. “I’m indecisive and clingy and moody. I can’t keep a schedule to save my life. I always need to be in control or I’m anxious or bail. And I never ever ever put my shoes away. I can’t tell you how many times Y/n has tripped trying to leave our kitchen because even though she’s asked me 200 times not to, I still leave my shoes right in the middle of the walkway. Yet every single day I find a new little note that she’s left me. Sometimes two or three on bad days. Actually, you know what? Be right back…”

Colby moved across the room to grab a photo-box full of papers. “Look at these.” He said, tipping the box to show you how full it was. He started reading some of them off. “Seeing you smile is my favorite way to start my day” “Your friends love you” “Your laughter is contagious” “You bring people joy” “Your ass looked great in those jeans last night” He laughed at that one, reading out one last note. “Strip away all of your fame and money and looks and what do you have left? The most accepting, honest, encouraging, and loving heart I’ve ever had the privilege of holding.” He stared at the piece of paper for a second before shrugging his shoulders and staring off into the other room. “Like I said, I have no clue what I did to deserve her.”

He moved to put the box back where he got it from and sat back down on the bed. “I know that a lot of you don’t like change. I know she’s going to get hate comments about loads of shit that either isn’t true or doesn’t matter. But do you want to know the truth? Neither of us care.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “We aren’t worried. We’re happy. And God does it feel good to say that because throughout my YouTube career, the amount of times I’ve been able to say that with a straight face are far and few between. Something to know before you start writing that shitty hateful comment…Y/n is never ever going to reply to you with hate. It doesn’t matter how mean you are to her. It’s just not in her. She’s too loving. She’ll probably apologize that you feel the way you feel and then treat you with perfect kindness. She goes out of her way to build people up. So, remember that before you’re too quick to try and tear her down.”

Colby heard the apartment door open and made a wide eyed ‘oh shit’ face at the camera. “Hey, baby! Are you home?”

“In here!” Colby called.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She apologized, seeing that she had interrupted him filming.

“Don’t worry.” Colby smiled up at her, reaching his arms out to invite her to sit on his lap for a moment. “I’ll just edit it out. What’s up?”

“This girl just moved in right above us and I want to go help her get settled. Her friend bailed on her and we have that bottle of red wine we’re never going to drink. Do you mind if I grab some snacks and the wine and go help her?” She asked, pressing a kiss to Colby’s cheek.

“Of course, I don’t mind, babe.” He slipped his arms tighter around her and kissed her lips. “I’ll text you when I’m done to see if you guys need help with anything heavy.”

“You’re too good to me.” She said, sliding off of his lap.

“I love you!” Colby called out after her, hearing her pack a bag full of snacks and grab the wine.

“I love you more!” he heard her call back. The apartment door closing behind her.

“I’m definitely not editing any of that out.” Colby laughed, looking back at the camera. “But do you see what I mean? That was a perfect example. One of like a thousand I could share. She so effortlessly walks into people’s lives and does whatever she can to help them.”

“I just realized you guys have no clue how we met.” Colby shook his head, laughing to himself. “So, you know those overnight videos we do with TFIL? Well we were once again being complete idiots and trying to sneak into this massive indoor sports arcade type place. Everyone had hidden except for me and I was about to get caught. I had climbed over this massive basketball free-throw cage thing and I was going to drop down behind it when the manager of the arcade started walking towards his office…right next to where I was hanging. This girl and I made eye contact and she recognized who I was. She obviously knew what I was up to. She started to laugh but quickly realized I was about to get caught. When the Manager went to step by her, she ‘stumbled’ into him and pretended to faint. Throwing in an ‘I don’t feel good’ right before hitting the ground for good measure. Her distraction gave me enough time to drop down behind the machine. When I peeked through the bars, I saw her ‘wake up’ and ask the manager if he could show here where the ski ball was like nothing had happened.” Colby snorted rolling his eyes. “She wasn’t the best actress on the planet, but she sure as hell had my attention. I spent the whole night annoying the rest of the guys trying to figure out how to find her and thank her. Talk to her. Turns out, it was easier than I thought. When we finally left at like 5 am, there was a little torn piece of paper tucked under my windshield wiper that said ‘you’re welcome’ and her phone number. Needless to say, I didn’t go to bed. I ended up meeting her at a diner where we talked so long, we ate both breakfast and lunch before parting ways. I’m usually a listener, you know? I know people see me in videos and think I’m crazy and loud 24/7, but I’m honestly usually the shy quiet kid sitting in the corner, people watching, and hoping no one notices me. But when I sat in that diner…I couldn’t shut up. It’s like she was pulling words out of me. I felt very…comfortable.”

Colby looked to be thinking about something for a moment, a soft smile on his face. “This video is partially for her and partially for you guys. I wanted to be able to introduce her before she just randomly started showing up in pictures or in videos. I didn’t want rumors about me ‘maybe’ dating her. I kind of wanted to spill my guts and talk about her to you guys because she’s the most important person in my life. And she doesn’t let me dote on her much, so I figured this was a good way to get it all out” he couldn’t help but smile. “I know you guys are going to love her. I know it. And I know she already loves all of you. It’s going to take her some time to get used to all of the attention, but I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to share her with you.”

“Y/n.” He faced the camera, speaking directly to her. “It would be impossible to list all of the things you’ve changed in my life. I know it sounds sappy as shit, but when poets say weird stuff like ‘the trees just looked different after meeting her’ I get it, now. It makes total sense to me. It’s like you reached down deep to the worst parts of me, shined a light on them, and loved me anyways…and I will never be able to actually explain how much I love you…But I will spend the rest of my life trying.”

[vivwrite]

With the Ghost of You(When the Sun Goes Down We All Get Lonely)

Maybe he’s just imagining, maybe its just another fantasy he pictures, but Luke seems semitransparent, a halo casting around his figure, holy, angelic.

“The night was very long but it didn’t seem long to the Snow Man; he stood lost in his own pleasant thoughts, and they froze until they crackled.”

or: Ashton meets Luke in a library, and the story tells itself. (AO3 link👇)

ooookay so my first fic for lashton and 5sos . Thanks for reading it. And tbh I'm extremely nervous because English's not my first language. So sorry for the mistakes lol.

One thing: I read Marquez's work in my first language, and I can't find the English version of it, so I translated the title and first sentence to English. There might be a mistake so sorry again lol

-

Ashton has always loved the library.

It isn't the school library, which is always so grand, demure, solemn, much like a robot- no, too cold and inhuman.

What he prefers, rather, is a smaller one run by a group of retired professors. It seems determined to hide itself in the northeastern corner of the campus, made up of three small but never crowded reading rooms. No matter when he walks through the doors be can find lamps shading yellowish circles on wooden tables, rows and rows of bookshelves up to the ceiling, and seats, beside small windows where the sunlight outside leaks in just perfectly on sunny afternoons.

To him it's always a getaway, a secret hiding place from the stressed and sometimes too fast school life, the only friend he can turn to when he isn't that enthusiastic about life, a comfort when facing another rock bottom. He's already studying a too rational subject; he'd love spending some time being just sensitive in here.

He'd spend hours and hours wandering among the bookshelves, picking one when he feels like it, skimming a few pages before deciding to read on or not. By doing this he feels just like a boy on the beach, amazed by an emerald or sapphire brought on shore by waves from time to time- what matters isn't just the book he gets. It's more of the communicating, the chore he gets to strike.

-

Unsatisfactory experiment result, loads of homework, a long and tiresome discussion with the professor about his research orientation- which he thinks is too early for him to consider, but she insists that as he has already got postgraduate recommendation he needs to consider it fully right now- and Ashton finds himself wandering in the library again, walking aimlessly, not for finding books, just to feel the connection.

It is a strange feeling, really, to be connected with books. Most of them on the shelves just seem to be books as they are, silent, quiet, lifeless. But, well, maybe it’s just his imagination- but some particular ones seem to be staring back- especially that one.

His hand automatically moves to pick that book out of the column.

It is quite delicate, a hard back small enough to be held on one hand, the title shimmering under the dim lights.

Ann’s Diary.

He remembers reading it in his teen years.

“Sorry, but that's mine.”

Ashton springs from the bookshelf. The book slips straight from his hand, hitting the wooden floor with a thud, as a boy rounds up from the other side.

He's tall- even taller than Ashton. And quite young, a freshman or sophomore, maybe. He is staring at Ashton from behind those strands of blonde, messy curls falling off to his face, piercing pale blue eyes met with his hazel ones, and that made his breath hitch for a second- although those eyes are definitely showing dismay.

"I... I don't really understand." He tries his best to cover all the confusion and fear- dealing with strangers always makes him uncomfortable (although he can manage it by acting cheerful and shit), especially with a pissed one.

But the boy seems determined to stay silent and on edge. He just flips the first page open, gesturing to a mark on it.

It's a two-word initial. Must have written quite a long time ago, as the lines are a bit blurry and the ink has faded into light gray. But he still recognizes the word, written in Italic, reading "L.H.".

Wait. The librarians never said that there is a place for personal collections.

Before he can ask about it the boy swirls around and walks off, leaving alone a dumbfounded Ashton.

-

He goes to ask the librarians, then the curator(because the librarians know nothing), about books with a L. H. written on it.

"This is a long story, darling, but it's late." Mrs. Hemmings' voice is collected and calm as always, but Ashton can tell that there is something as her eyes are a bit dull, "Maybe the other day."

-

His favorite spot in the library is a small table tucked behind seven rows of bookshelves of English literature(yes, he counts how many bookshelves are there), just besides a small window. Others rarely find it- unless they're crazy for novels by Adeline Virginia Woolf or they're just too bored to do anything else.

That's why he chooses here- There's no disruption, no noise, only the random shuffle for a person searching for books and pages being turned. Being alone.It suits him.

The sound of a chair pulling broke the silence,ripping him from the novel plot- someone has slipped into the chair opposite of him.

Well, fuck.

Ashton lifts his head from the pages, slight agitation rising from his chest, which shifted to utter surprise as his eyes meet a strangely familiar shade of blue.

Before he could say anything the boy blurts out , "Please... I want to explain."

For a moment Ashton just sits there, staring. Thoughts cloud his mind, tangling messily, laying conflicted- He was so senseless but now he seems so sincere! He won't trust his own voice right now, afraid that something stupid pops up all of a sudden. So he decides to just nod, a silent permit for the stranger to go on.

The boy clears his throat, looking a little nervous, "About the incident yesterday... I'm sorry. Got into something stupid and was shouted at all day long- but, I mean, fuck, even that isn't the reason I became such a jerk to you. I'm not trying to defend myself, but please don't be angry... Oh my fucking god, I don't know what I'm saying." He groans, pushing a hand through his curls, messing it up a bit.

Well, isn't that adorable.

Ashton hears himself chuckling, "I understand, no worries. Everyone has a bad day, don't we?"

He watches as the boy visibly relaxes with the reassuring words, a smile slipping on on his face, "Yeah, I guess. Thanks... Um, what's your name, by the way?"

Oh, right.

"Ashton."

"Thanks, Ashton." the boy's smile widens, "I'm Luke."

So the initial does belong to him. The L. H..

It's not until silence falls that Ashton realizes he may have stared at those sea- blue, sincere eyes for a bit too long. Hastily he ducked his head into his novel, flushed, trying to pick up the stream of Woolf's consciousness again.

"Virginia Woolf?" Luke's voice cuts in, and to Ashton's surprise- filled with pure interest.

Everyone else just thinks he's crazy and nerdy fancying Woolf's works.

"You like her?" He can't help but feel hope lighting up.

"One of my favorite!" Luke's literally buzzing with excitement, like a puppy finally getting some fresh air after a long lockdown in the house, "Never found another person to discuss, though. Everyone just say it's too hard to understand and shits."

And with that their conversation swiftly shifts into a heated discussion about stream of consciousness novels, to Woolf, then Proust, Faulkner, all way up the history, even to Freud- and Ashton finds, surprisingly, that they can strike a chord in every part of it- and the way Luke talks relentlessly, smiling so broad, eyes shining and hands waving- tells him he holds the same feelings, same thought, same passion.

His throat's sore- he hasn't talked that much in like, forever- but that doesn't stop him from being smug like an idiot when he leaves the library.

He's been alone for a long time, But it seems that he has finally found someone.

-

He starts to spend more time in the library- first just to do some more leisure reading and writing stuff there, then he starts bring his textbooks and laptop there to finish his homework, then even starts to stay there as long as he neither has classes nor needs to go back to the dorm. Yes, he admits it's kind of strange one's never tired of a library- especially that he has already ploughed through every part since he first stepped into it- but he knows why- a cute boy with ocean blue eyes and a smile is always there now.

It has become a routine. Luke accompanies him every day, sometimes already halfway through a novel when Ashton arrives, while other times Luke shows up merrily when he’s buried in the middle of projects and homework, bringing in a sense of cool breeze and fresh air before peeking over and ushering him to take a break(well sometimes the work has to be done, but Luke’s so sweet that he can’t refuse). Their time spent together is usually quiet, Ashton either typing away on his laptop or on a book, while Luke is immersed in his own novel, just piping up from time to time to discuss the plot or asking about the author. Topic wanders- books, school life, bands, music (seriously, how many same hobbies do they hold?).

They have went through so many fields- Stream of Consciousness to Science Fiction, Agatha Christie to Akudagawa, Shakespeare's Sonnet to Samuel Ullman's prose, but the list still seems far from ending. To Ashton's surprise Luke have read most of the writers not only by representative works but also less- famous chapters- many of which he only knows but has never read. He had thought he's an English Literature student, but Luke amazed him again by saying he studies Math actually- the same amazement occurred again when Luke discovered the chemistry paper Ashton's working on.

He can’t recall the last time he felt this content -Well, he can’t even remember when he has become so silent and depressed, on edge and under pressure.

But seems Luke has already become the solution.

-

Ashton sighs, recoils back in his chair, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes- He never learns the lesson of not leaving your homework to the deadline, fuck it.

Besides him Luke rises his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips, "You finally done?"

He just groaned, eyes shut."I wonder how the fuck you can even finish your homework. You never seem to be doing anything related to math."

"Maybe that's because all can be done quickly if I want."

Smug idiot.

"Wait till you're a post graduate and you'll know what's torture."

"Will quit right after four years, then."

Ashton scowls, cracks open one eye and spares a hand to flip Luke off, to which he ducks away (he always does) and giggles, "You're of no fucking help."

"What do you want me to do, then?"

"Don't know. Tell me a story. Or just read something. As long as I'm not thinking my head off about the synthesis route of some stupid fucking molecule I'll be fine."

He heard a light chuckle, "Aye- Aye, Captain, here we go."

The sound of pages turning, Luke clearing his throat, then,"'It's so bitterly cold that my whole body crackles!' Said the Snow Man."

Ashton lifts an eyebrow wearily,"Now you're telling me an Andersen's Fairy Tale?"

"Shh. Shut up and be a good boy. It's my favorite one." then, "This wind can really blow life into you! And how that glaring thing up there glares at me!" He meant the sun; it was just setting..."

Luke reads on, and Ashton finds himself relaxing, sinking into the familiar tale he’s read hundreds of times as a toddler, following the thread of the story, recalling the dialogue, how the Snow Man calls the Old Watchdog “my friend”.

Luke's voice fades for a brief second, then returns, slightly changed, softer, “Then the Snow Man looked, and he really saw a brightly polished thing with a brass stomach and fire glowing from the lower part of it. A very strange feeling swept over the Snow Man...”

Here comes the part- tracing the memory he can still feel it, the confusion when toddler him read to this part, then realization and excitement for no reason when he picked it up again, just for one time, before he come to this city.

He thought a new place brings a new life. That he would finally leave that old black and white town. He thought he knew what life was all about, what love was.

So ambitious, so young, so dumb.

Ashton blinks furiously, shaking the thoughts flooding up away from his mind. He’s here, in his favorite place, with an adorable boy who keeps his company, reading a tale to him. He’s fine, they’re fine, it’s fine.

His eyes lands on Luke.

The small lamp on the table is tilted slightly, soft golden light casting gently down on the boy’s right side, splitting a silhouette, leaving the left side of his face in the shadow. Curls falls off his face, dangling. His long, thick eyelashes turns to an almost-silver color under the light, trembling slightly, dancing altogether with the little particles floating in the air, as those blue eyes, clear as the sunny day but still deep as the sea, moves with each line, each word on the page. Maybe he’s just imagining, maybe its just another fantasy he pictures, but Luke seems semitransparent, a halo casting around his figure, holy, angelic.

“The night was very long but it didn’t seem long to the Snow Man; he stood lost in his own pleasant thoughts, and they froze until they crackled.”

The story’s still going, coming to an end, and Luke’s voice, a little raspy now, is merely above a whisper, like if he tells it any louder the fragile, beautiful tragedy will be destroyed.

“Come out, dear sun! Come often, skies of blue!

And nobody thought any more about the Snow Man.”

And with that Silence falls, a sad love story coming to its end.

For a while they just sits, looking into each others eyes.

The atmosphere’s changed, he knows it, can feel it. It’s a brand new feeling, one he has never felt, the rising urge, the need, the want, to get closer to the boy in front of him, to truly know him, to be with him, go through everything with him, feel the same with him, to like him, love him.

Hesitantly, he reaches out, slowly, hand trembling.

For a moment Luke seems to be on the same page with him, eyes fluttering shut and automatically leaning in, but suddenly he gasps, like being reminded of something he has long forgotten, and recoils back sharply, Ashton’s hand touches nothing but air.

Why.

“It’s late, Ash.” Luke whispered, not looking him in the face, “Maybe the other day.”

-

Something’s changed between them.

Not that the intimacy has changed- no. They still meets at the very table, reading and chatting, Luke still listens to his bickering about homework and fucking lab life- but something’s there, like The Sword of Damocles, hanging dangerously, but both just choose to ignore it.

Luke’s still Luke, sweet and gentle, cute and caring. But he’s somewhat quieter then before- he’s still chatting when it comes to their hobbies, but he always stops abruptly after the topic’s over, cutting the conversation.

It’s only that Ashton’s confused, confused about fucking all of it, confused about why Luke refused his invitation, why Luke takes a step back while he finally decides to step forward. It’s like an invisible barrier is built, all things suddenly turns indefinite without reason.

He hate it. He fucking hate all of it.

It’s only worse that he’s stuck in the library right now- it’s pouring outside, he’s left his umbrella at home, his jacket has no hat, and Luke’s oddly quiet.

He’s reading, more of scanning automatically, mind crowded with uncomfortable thoughts, screaming at him to at least find out what’s wrong with Luke(he don’t know how when they’re in this awkward state), to pluck up his courage and try again(well look what a coward he becomes when it comes to pining), to get this mess sorted (to which he has absolutely no fucking idea).

Fucking shitty day.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed- the sky is darkening, pure black seeping into pale gray, as the window starts to mirror the lighted lamp, making it unable to see the outside.

He hears a sigh, then the sound of book shut.

He can see those clear blue eyes from the corner of his eye, a little dim than usual, like the eyes of a sad puppy, and that almost break his heart. He wants to get close to the boy again, tell him it’s okay, he’s here, no need to keep those shit all alone and stuff- but instead he stares intently at the screen, so hard that his eyes starts to water, cursing himself inwardly.

A pause. Then, “Ash.”

Ashton gives himself a slap in the head, then puts on his most cheery face, “Yeah?”

Luke shakes his head furiously, “Don’t... Don’t act in front of me. I know you’re not well these days, and it’s all because of,” He waves his hand impatiently, then pulls his curls, casting out another deep sigh, “Yes, I... feel there is something I need to explain.”

And again he finds himself lost of words, exactly like the last time Luke made an explanation. But Luke’s acting different- strange. He’s frowning, shifting in his seat, hands tightly clasped together, teeth tugging at his lower lip, eyes filled with... fear.

Luke has never gone frightened in front of him.

“Hey, hey.” He reaches out, trying to grab Luke’s hand, but the boy squealed and pulls away abruptly again- so he just sighs, being as comforting as possible, “It’s okay, Luke. All okay.”

Finally the boy seems to have made the decision. He points to the book he just finished, which is lying on the table now, “The second short story.”

“You’re making me a puzzle through Marquez? Typical.” Ashton picks up the book, checking the writer. He’s trying to make a joke, but it came out weak and not funny at all, as Luke just sighs again and rests his head in his hands.

“I don’t know how to say it, so.” God, he hates how Luke’s voice sounds, all hurt and in pain.

“Luke, I mean, I’m not forcing you, but you know you can tell me everything-” panic’s rising, and he feels the urge, that they’re coming to the crossroads-

“Um, Ashton?”

He’s never hated life- the approaching librarian as well- more than now.

“Yes?”

She comes to stand beside him, a hand on his shoulder, “It’s ten now and we’re closing in five minutes. You need an umbrella?”

“Um, just a minute. We have something to discuss. I promise it’ll be quick.” He gestures to the seat across the table, where he knows Luke’s sitting.

He expects a nod, but her face is puzzled, coated with a layer he can’t read, “We? But Ashton, there’s no one across the table.”

“What?”

His head whips around, so quick that he thinks he must have strained his neck. He closes his eyes, then opens them again- yes, Luke is sitting right there, in the chair, totally frozen besides the nervous act just now- but he’s there.

“But...”

She only shakes her head, “You’re the only one here all day, Ashton. No one else feels like coming on such a stormy weather.”

With that she leaves.

Ashton turns back to Luke frantically, “What the hell-”

He’s met with a stony face and watery blue eyes. Luke seems defeated and in total grief.

“Tell me, Luke. Tell me!” Panic overcomes him, his voice three octaves higher than usual. It can’t be real, it’s just his fantasy, things like this can’t happen in real life...

Luke holds out his trembling hand, and very slowly, reaches over, linking it with Ashton’s.

A wave of icy cold rises up- from his feet up to his spine, overwhelming him, drowning him, making his head dizzy, the world turning, the sense-

The sense of not being touched.

Luke’s hands go straight through his.

“Because they can’t see me.” The silhouette figure whispers, voice barely audible.

“I’m not as real as you see me, Ash.”

-

The next three days come and go like a blurry scene.

Ashton remembers it just vaguely- he remembers fleeing out of the library, running alone the dark campus path till his chest burns and every breath becomes a burden. He remembers the rain, pouring down and hitting him relentlessly, flowing off his face, mixed with some warm fluid he didn’t dare to think about. He remembers walking back to the dorm, all worn out and broken down, throwing himself on his bed and crying till weariness finally came over. He slept, then woke, then ushered himself into sleep again, like only in dreamland he could forget all of it, until he was really not able to sleep anymore.

He pushes himself up from his bed and stumbles into the bathroom, eyeing himself in the mirror. He looks like shit, even worse than a hangover, purple bags hanging from his eyes and hair sticking in all directions. He sighs, turning to walk from the bathroom, cursing as he nearly trips over something on the ground- but the word died halfway in his throat.

It’s that book. The Collection of Marquez’s Short Stories. He must have thrown it on the floor that night.

Ashton swallows, hesitant- he’s not that sure if he’s ready to face it, that memory, that typical boy- but his hand does it for him, already flipping through the pages.

The second work, what is the second work......

He sees the title.

Someone Messed up the Roses.

He takes in a breath.

Today’s Sunday, the rain’s stopped, and I want to pick some red and white roses to my grave...

His eyes is welling up, but he reads on, about the story of a boy’s ghost and his sister, a wish never coming true, a story of love and regret.

There’s a note, written in Italic, at the corner of the page, end of the story, black ink suggesting it’s freshly written.

You have given me the happiest moments my whole life and beyond life, Ash. It might be like a cheesy novel, but I love you and I’m sorry.

Luke Hemmings

He’s crying before he knows it.

“Fuck, Luke.”

-

The scenery outside the window’s changing, fading from concrete jungle to fields and woods. On the end of the road, a hill’s approaching.

He’s sitting in the bus, hand clutching at Marquez’s Collection and a piece of paper- a piece of paper Mrs. Hemmings gave him, showing a route to the place he wants to go.

The vehicle stops and Ashton stands, hopping off the bus, going for the iron door just beside the muddy road.

He pushes it open, the rust on it sticking on his hands, the scent of soil coming up to greet him. As he keeps walking stones appears- delicately carved, yet lifeless.

An oak. That’s what she told him- an oak beside him.

He lifts his head, looking around, and found it- an oak, already tall, rising from the soil, pointing straight to the pale-gray sky.

Uncertainty and fear echoes in the back of his mind, trying to stop him, as he just goes on.

He’s already experienced lost once. He doesn’t want to lose it again.

He stops in front of the oak, hesitates before sitting down, cross- legged.

“I don’t know what to say, Luke.”

He stops, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“A part of me is telling me to forget all this, deny it, wave it off as a dream. It’s all just a fantasy, something I pictured, and I’m supposed to, I should...”

“But, Luke, every minute spent with you is so real.”

“They would say I’m crazy, everyone will; I mean, who would believe a person falling in love with someone already gone- and supposed to be in the state of nonexistence? But... you’re like someone I finally found, a person in this world who could understand me... Who I’ve searched for my whole life.”

He sniffs, blinking away the tears welling up, “You know, during my years alone I’ve learned about not to expect, not to hope; but you... you bring the difference, like a light suddenly cracking in. I mean... if you’re there, if you’re really there... please, just please, give me something to hope, to wish for, and don’t just go away like that.”

“Because I’m so lonely,” He finally let it slip, “So lonely, Luke.”

A soft wind picks up, leaves rustling, like an answer. But as he listens on everything just stays silent, like they’ve always been forever. No silhouette, no soft voice belonging to a boy.

The sky’s getting dark, so he just pushes himself up and leaves.

-

He continues with the life. Attending classes, finishing homework, finally deciding his research orientation. His professor says something about “A big step” and “I know you can do it”, which he just brushes it all off, not truly listen.

He continues to go to the library- but not sitting in that very table anymore, and just stays there for less then an hour each day. He’s read Someone Messed Up the Roses again and again, like all of the other works have suddenly lost their attraction to him.

The pages are all dog-eared and worn out, but he just goes on with it, flipping the pages, ready to read the short story for like the twentieth time.

“I wouldn’t treat a book like that, you know.”

He jumps from his seat, eyes widening, turning around.

Someone turns up from behind the bookshelf.

Messy curls, sea- blue eyes, the lips curling up in a slight smile.

It’s like a dream. He’s in a dream.

Like he can read Ashton’s mind, the blonde walks straight up to him and extends his arms, wrapping him into an embrace.

He feels warmth.

Still no feelings of being touched, the figure still semitransparent, but warmth.

“It’s real. Don’t doubt it.” Luke’s voice is soft, reassuring, barely above a whisper.

Just like he remembers.

The warmth doesn’t fade, like when he’s standing under the afternoon sun, closing his eyes, feeling the hope coming up.

He finally believes it- tears are sliding down his face before he knows it.

“Luke."

[bohrapbois]

A short fic of the cast all reuniting after quarantine? Lots of hugs and fluff included please!

I’m so sorry that this took so long! Suddenly had loads of things on my plate and then this slipped my mind... I’m sorry! But here it is, and it was hella fun to write!

Words - 2,000+ (This will also be posted to AO3 cause god damn we need more fluff right now)

Relatsionships - None! Just pure friendship fluff!

“Holy shit Ben,” Gwil eagerly grabbed the shorter man, pulling him close and burying his face in the mess of uncut curls. “God, it feels good to actually get to see you again, actually being able to hug you again!” He felt Ben nodding against his chest, and maybe they looked a bit insane standing on the pavement hugging a little touch starved, but it had been so hard not being able to do this. They’d both gone slightly insane stuck inside, but knew it was for everyone’s safety. 

Lockdown had eased as the cases dropped, and maybe three o’clock in the morning wasn’t the best time for Ben to text his fellow London residing friend, but the following morning at a reasonable time, they’d sped walked towards each other at a meeting place and just hugged.

“I know mate,” Ben chuckled, squeezing his arms around Gwil’s waist a few times before pulling back. They both keep an arm around each other, friends not caring what others think about them and start walking. They weren’t far from Gwil’s house, and as many places were still closed, they’d just have to make do with kettle instant coffee and some pastries from Tesco. “I think I would’ve gone insane if I kept staring at the walls any longer”. He shoved his sunglasses slightly higher up his nose, the sun unreasonably bright for this time of year. 

Gwil laughed and nodded, pulling Ben closer to his side and giving him a gentle shake, “you really hate not doing anything, don’t you Benny?”

They kept the conversation light for the morning walk until finally, they got back to Gwils, kicking off their shoes by the front door and wandering into the kitchen. In the couple of years of knowing each other, these two had been over to each other’s places many times, sometimes unannounced, so it was nice being in a familiar place for Ben as he jumped up to sit on the edge of the table, legs dangling over the side as Gwil went around and made their drinks.

Although they’d talked most days, video called with the others and the group had basically been a vital support for each other, it was still better getting to see each other in person. Voices were clearer, didn’t have to worry about the internet connection or going out of shot, and somehow, conversations were easier.

They sent off a picture of them together to Joe as they moved into the living room, Gwil’s partner happy to let them bond as she went to work in the little office. Now with a couple of bottles of cheap wine and a Pot Noodle each, they relaxed on either side of the sofa and flipped on the TV. Although lockdown had been eased a bit, didn’t mean the world was A-Okay again, so day drinking and junk food eating was still acceptable. 

Finding a terrible film, Ben threw the remote between them and tucked his feet under Gwil’s thighs, pulling out his phone to send a few more texts to Joe. 

The hardest part of being back with one friend is realising you can’t meet up with the others straight away. 

Taking a long sip of wine straight from the bottle, Ben kept the conversation airy, didn’t want to make Social-Butterfly-Mazzello upset he was still stuck inside with his mother. Catching up with the redhead, Ben read off the texts to Gwil, letting Joe know what the other mans opinions were at the same time as enquiring more information himself until eventually, they were on a second film and maybe a bit too tipsy. 

“I miss the guys,” Ben sighs, head leaning back on the arm of the chair as his legs tangled with Gwils on the sofa, “not that I don’t love you too, mate,” the blond chuckles, wine spilling slightly onto his chin as he took another swig of the basically empty bottle in his hand.

“ ‘ know what you mean,” Gwil had long since finished his bottle, eyeing up the last one they swore they wouldn’t touch, much like the one Ben is emptying now. “Somehow seeing you here makes it harder?” Fuck it. He’s going to get drunk with his best friend on a Wednesday at 5pm. He grabbed the bottle, loosening the cap and flicking it off somewhere across the room. He reached for the glasses his darling had brought through awhile back, and with unsteady hands, filled both glasses without spilling too much.

“Yeah, exactly,” empty bottle now placed on the floor, Ben sat up, shoulder propped up against the back of the sofa. He didn’t grab his glass straight away, needing a moment to think. “We getta see each other but not them? And Joe is being extra careful cause of his mum, it just… are we selfish for meeting up?” He glances over at Gwil, who was just about to take another drink but stopped, frowning slightly and lowering the glass from his lips.

“What? No!” He shook his head a little too long, “Joe knows about England, he’d be more surprised if we didn’t … get drunk like this,” he gestured towards the wine splashing around in the glass, finally bringing it up to his lips and taking a sip. Nothing like cheap corner store rose when having a philosophical talk. “Yeah it’s shit, but come on, we gotta celebrate being able to actually go outside again”. His words would probably have more impact if they were actually inside, but Ben was nodding anyway.

“M’kay, I kinda guess,” Ben rubs across the soft stubble starting to come through on his chin, “gonna make it better when we can actually see them all, ya know? I can’t wait to actually meet baby Leech,” reaching over and grabbing his glass, Ben does a small cheers gesture. They hadn’t been able to meet the new addition yet, and although they’d all been dubbed Uncles and Auntys, they hadn’t gotten to cuddle and bicker on who’d be best. Allen had been keeping them all updated on his pride and joy, and Ben had already printed off a photo to add to his wall. 

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

It was a few months later when they were all able to meet up again. Summer was coming to an end, evenings becoming shorter and colder, but that didn’t mean Joe’s hands weren’t sweaty to the touch. Lockdowns around the world had been eased, then brought back in place, and it had been an entire shit show really. He was glad he’d had his mom with him, he didn’t look over the precious time they spent together, but when a Gwil had sent over some flights in the group chat a few weeks ago, asking if the lot stuck in America wanted to come to Britain, he’d actually cried.

Arranging to stay at Bens for an undiscussed amount of time (“Joe, you can stay however fucking long you want, ‘kay? Always got a spare bed for you, buddy”), Joe had checked with his mother if she’d be alright, and she shooed off any of his fears, saying it’d be nice to get to see her grandbabies and other offspring, she’d hardly be alone. So, he packed up his stuff and set off. 

Rami and Lucy were coming too, and Joe was practically shaking in anticipation. When he spotted them, and they spotted him, they rushed to each other and had a massive hug, full of giggles and tears. 

“Oh my god have I missed you guys,” Joe kissed Lucy’s forehead and Rami’s cheek before giving each one an individual hug and rib repositioning. It was great that they could touch and hug each other again, and Joe thought that he’d never stop doing it if he can.

“Seeing someone other than Lucy is a miracle,” Rami joked, arm wrapped over Joes shoulder and pulling him up against his chest again. He loved his girl so much, loved the future they were building together, but months trapped in a flat was hard for anyone. It made them stronger in some respects, but they’d had more arguments then than the rest of their relationship. He got a teasing punch on the arm from his girlfriend, who wiggled her way under his other arm and here they were again, the group hug they’d all been daydreaming about for weeks.

There was still precautions taken in the airport, with spacing and temperature checks done at the gates, minimal contact with crew and workers, and god damned hand sanitizer everywhere. It still felt odd how quiet things were. There was an air of caution in everything everyone did now, but they had to get back to normal, had to keep going, so here they were.

The plane journey was as long as ever, but somehow felt longer. Lucy and Rami were moving to their London residence for a bit, had her family to see and get a break from the craziness from America, so they were telling Joe about all the renovations they were going to do when there.

“Rami wants to do the garden, but I’m not sure, you know?” Lucy, sat in the middle chair, explaining the plans her boyfriend had been rambling to her for the last month or so, “a great actor, maybe not the best gardener”. Joe nodded along and laughed as the couple started a light hearted bickering, and maybe he teared up a bit again because he was actually able to see them again, and he wished the plane could land faster.

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

In London, Gwilym and Ben were in a similar situation. Setting up the blonds flat for the little get together, they kept fussing over the smallest of details although they knew that no one would really mind if the pillow on the sofa was on the left side or the right, but it kept their minds off of things.

Disappointingly, the Leech family wouldn’t be joining them tonight. They didn’t want to risk the baby getting sick, but had agreed to come at a later date and meet them in smaller groups. It would have to do, but it didn’t mean the conversation wasn’t a bit disheartening. 

They tried to ignore the time as they cooked the party foods and reorganised the alcohol in the fridge for the third time, but when Bens phone pinged on the kitchen counter, they both scrambled to look at it.

“They’re on their way!” Gwil announced, grinning over the screen as another text came in, this time a photo. Ben unlocked the device, and they beamed down at a photo of the three people they can’t wait to meet up with again.

But now it’s the whole ‘how long do we have to wat?’ game, and suddenly Ben was convinced his shirt wasn’t right and had to change about five times before walking back out of his room with a slightly lighter coloured shirt. 

It was as he was running a hand through his still long hair and trying to tame it when his doorbell rang. Gwil leapt over the back of the sofa and skidded to the door as if it was his life mission to get to it at a surprisingly quick rate. He flung open the door and saw the tired trio light up in excitement just as Ben shoved his way into the doorway under the Welshmans arm. 

There was a moment where no one moved before chaos ensured. Ben and Joe instantly wrapped each other in the biggest hug they’d ever done, the blond tucking his nose against Joe’s neck and letting a few relieved tears pass his eyelashes as he squeezed the air out of his American. 

Gwil was tall enough that he could wrap both Rami and Lucy in a hug, laughing up at the sky as the joy of the whole thing finally sunk in. The couple didn’t mind, instead competing on who could actually get closer to their tallest friend.

After a few minutes, it was time to rotate the hugs. Ben loved being squished between Lucy and Rami, both smothering his cheeks in kisses and getting the emotional man to laugh in glee. Maybe some tickling was involved, but it had been long overdue anyway, and it made them all laugh as they watched one blond chase the other blonde down the pavement with happy threats of tickling her to death. 

Joe and Gwil rocked back and forth as they hugged, Gwils hand on the back of Joes head and holding him close to his chest as Joe rubbed across his spine to remind them both that yeah, they were here, were hugging, and had gotten through a global pandemic without going mad. 

It was only when a shrill alarm started screaming from inside the flat that the reunion was broken. They all jumped and startled, looking through the open door and seeing a thing layer of smoke. “Oh shit my pizzas!” Ben yelped, jumping past everyone and rushing into the flat.

Ah, yep, nothing had actually changed.

[medea10]

My Review of Magical Girl Site

How did I get into this anime? I…huh…Good question! I don’t recall. Probably some other anime reviewers mentioned it and I put it on the Amazon/Netflix list hoping I won’t have to watch it any time soon. Two years later and here we are!

Aya Asagiri’s life is a living hell. She is constantly bullied at school and no one does a thing to stop it. Her teachers don’t care about her well-being. Her father barely notices she exists. And to top it off, her brother beats the crap out of her just for him to relieve stress! Is it any wonder that she wants to commit suicide? One night, her computer mysteriously turns on to a website, promoting Aya to become a magical girl. She brushed it off and thought nothing of it…

That is until the next morning when she finds a note and a gun in her shoe locker. After being tortured by her bullies and almost raped, she finds herself at the end of her ropes and pulls out the mysterious gun. When she pulled the trigger, her bullies disappeared. Turns out, the targets are transported to another place. In the case of some of her bullies, they were transported to in front of a moving train.

Karma, bitches!

It’s unknown why Aya was specifically chosen to become a magical girl, but fellow magical girl Yatsumura feels she could use Aya’s magic to combat a looming threat to other magical girls. But they must not overuse their magic, otherwise they will die.

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: As of this moment, this anime seems to be in the capable hands of Amazon Prime. And we all know how well they treat animes, right?! Hahaha! Funny! Anyways, don’t expect a dub! The cast seems to be comprised of many female seiyuus I’m not particularly familiar with. I mean with the exception of Aina Suzuki, I hear her sounds every day thanks to the Love Live game apps! Add to that the creepy, raspy voice of Frieza playing the site administrator! One voice actor however I heard the second he let out a creepy, hygena-like laugh, I knew exactly who this crazy bastard was! Nobuhiko Okamoto plays a great psychopath. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

*Aya is played by Yuuko Oono

*Yatsumura is played by Himika Akaneya

*Sarina is played by Haruka Yamazaki (known for Ruka on Hayate the Combat Butler, Mero on Monster Musume, Aika on High School DxD, and Natsumi on Danganronpa 3)

*Nijimi is played by Yuu Serizawa (known for Shera on How Not to Summon a Demon Lord)

*Shioi is played by Aina Suzuki (known for Mari on Love Live Sunshine)

AUTOMATICLY THROWN ON DISLIKED LIST: Okay children, who automatically ends up on my hate list for life?

Fuckers who commit rape and fuckers who kill animals for fun!

Damn right! Give this anime some credit for not showing Aya’s bullies throwing a cat in front of a moving train. If this were 10 years ago, they probably would have animated it and I would have been puking afterward. I’m not sure which of Aya’s bullies threw a cat in front of a moving train, but for the time being, I’m throwing them all on the list.

And while I’m here, Sarina! She was like the ring-leader in the bullying of Aya. I’m almost certain she’s the bitch that killed the stray cat but I have no proof of that. With my history with horrible people like that, I have no sympathy for bullies in the slightest and feel she got what was coming to her. Bitch, you got that big, ugly scar on your neck for a reason. You got what was coming!

DEFINITELY BELONGS IN DISLIKE HISTORY: Now that I got the usual gripe off my chest, gotta add Aya’s onii-chan, Kaname! Sweet merciful crap, do I love hearing Nobuhiko Okamoto play a psychopath, but this is going way too far. And Kaname is just irredeemable! He has this complex that makes him think he’s on God-tier and everyone else is beneth him. Now I do have to hate Kaname and Aya’s father for placing this kind of pressure on Kaname and beating the shit out of him if he gets bad grades. But good fuck, this guy just pushes past the line of no return when he tries to manipulate little girls, steal their power, and lose control. And this wasn’t like he had no control over his own body and wants to stop this from happening! Kaname meant every thing he did to his sister and her friends. OH…and that one guy he forced to off himself! I just can’t even with this guy!

SHIPPING: I know a lot of people ship the hell out of Aya and Yatsumura and yeah, I can see that and I would ship them too. But for reals, I just want these two girls to live a life of peace together for as long as they’re around. For fuck’s sake, did you see the shit they put up with in their lives? Aya was bullied relentlessly at home and school. Yatsumura watched her whole family be slaughtered by a creep. These girls deserve some sort of peace! I know this is the shipping category, but I felt the need to say this.

STICKS: Okay anime, what are you doing? Aya uses a magical gun! Sarina uses a magical yo-yo! Nijimi uses magical panties (insert immature laugh here)! Yatsumura uses a magical remote! How hard is it to have them say that! And I probably shouldn’t put blame on the anime and holler at the manga! But calling magical items “Sticks”, that feels…I don’t want to say stupid, but I can’t think of any other word to go along with that. I just feel like the manga was on some deadline and they were frantically finishing what to call their magical items and just went “FUCK IT, IT’S STICKS”.

COULD HAVE FOOLED ME: In the “Could have fooled me” category we have a boy who identifies as a girl magical girl! Man, 2018 definitely was the progressive AF year! I mean, we had Lily from Zombieland Saga, we had the girls who transformed into magical buff men in Magical Girl Ore, and now THIS! So we have Kiyo! An openly transgendered magical girl that’s not a token joke! Okay, well done guys! Pearl points all around!

ENDING: Early in the series, we learned about a moment called “The Tempest”. A catastrophic even set to take place once enough negative energy is caught. There are a lot of Magical Girl Site administrators that take advantage of “POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS”. They pick the most unfortunate girls as pawns in their game. And once “The Tempest” hits, everyone will die and the world will start over anew. Aya and Yatsumura end up meeting new magical girl allies and even a few that were coersed by different administrators. Not to mention one of Aya’s bullies is a magical girl too with a score to settle! What could be worse?

How about we add Aya’s disgusting brother to this mix?! As I’ve mentioned before, Aya’s brother Kaname would use Aya as a personal punching bag in order to get rid of stress. When Aya became a magical girl, she would spend more time with Yatsumura or the other girls, leaving Kaname to go without slugging his sister. So fuckface over here manipulates another magical girl, Nijimi to do what he says. This leads to him stealing Nijimi’s underwear and gaining her magical power of mind control. I never thought I would have to say a sentence like that, but here we are.

Kaname went out of control with this power as he managed to injure all of the girls and give a fatal blow to Nijimi. But another possible enemy dropped a bomb on us when they kidnapped Kaname. THEN, these girls are targeted at Nijimi’s funeral and they almost died. Add another plot-twist, a police officer that’s been seen from time to time in a lot of the tragedies in the show is in cahoots with one of the magical girl site administrators. This keeps getting fuckier by the minute! Well, the girls felt it was time to take action and try to take out the administrators that screwed them with this doomed fate. But once they took out one of the administrators, they came across an ugly truth.

Sight administrators are magical girls who died previously!

Yeah, not that big of a shock! Madoka Magica gave us magical girls who end up so corrupt that they become witches they’re supposed to fight. While some of the administrators ended up falling to these girls, Nana (the creepy one we’ve been watching since ep 1) is the hardest one to take out. She ends up killing Yatsumura (because she used up too much of her power), but then manipulates her to become an administrator.

Once she manipulated Yatsumura, she ends up going after Aya. And after a lot of back-and-forth between the two girls, Yatsumura was able to snap out of Nana’s control and they managed to take out Nana. And we end the series with a brighter future for Aya and Yatsumura as their lives become a little less unfortunate.

Yeah, few issues here!

1.) There are still a butt-load of site administrators. Isn’t there still a “Tempest” going to happen? 2.) Aya and Yatsumura’s lives aren’t in danger anymore after using fuck-tons of their power? WTF?! 3.) What was the point of Aya shooting herself to get Yatsumura back? I am not following you. Is this some sort of Insception shit?! 4.) That detective! Misumi was his name? Why was he just casually talking to Nana a few episodes back? 5.) Why don’t we see him until the final few moments in the finale? 6.) WHY DID HE RAPE KANAME?! 7.) WHY WAS THIS SCENE A THING? 8.) I don’t want to say Kaname deserved it, buuuuuut… Uuuggghhh…Mumble, mumble. I can’t finish that thought. 9.) These site administrators are probably pissed and are going to want revenge on these magical girls. What’s going on here?

…Let me guess, I need to read the manga to get all my questions answered…

FUCKING FIGURES!

Seriously...what Misumi did. That scene is forever etched in my brain forever. Next to that scene of Kaname wiggling his junk in front of a guy.

This anime was pretty bad. No wait...

This anime was way too edgy for me! Episode 1 was just absolute torture porn involving Aya. The first episode managed to combine the bully scene in Vivid Strike, the puppy killing scene in Elfen Lied, and every bullying episode of Hell Girl all into one single episode. As for the rest of this series, they go above and beyond to grab some of the worst aspects of other animes and implement them here. Aya’s older brother almost has a God-complex that rivals that of Light Yagami of Death Note. Nijimi has a devoted fan that’s almost crossing over from the movie Perfect Blue. Body mutilation scenes on levels not seen since Higurashi! And fill this world up with the worst kinds of humans imaginable like in Elfen Lied! This was just too much hatred! Too much!

Add to that, there’s absolutely no resolution to this story. Yes, Aya and Yatsumura are alive and together. But guys, there are still some other-worldly strong site administrators looming! Tempest is still happening. KANAME IS STILL FUCKING ALIVE…literally and figuratively speaking! And with how much this anime has been panned by anime fans across the board, I doubt if this anime will ever receive a sequel. Guys, if you want a really good 12-episode anime about magical girls with an edge, just watch Madoka Magica. But if you’re a curious idiot like me, whatever, you do you!

As this anime is an Amazon Prime exclusive, I’m afraid that’s the only legal outlet for this.

Now that this is over, my next Amazon/Netflix/Crunchyroll anime is…

Grand Blue!

Oh, it’s set in a cute ocean town. Am I going to enjoy some cute absurdity like I did with Tsuritama?

Sort of!

OH GOOD FUCK, WHAT FRAT HOUSE WAS THIS BIRTHED FROM?!

[getitinbusan]

Bonus chapter: Namjoon and Jackson Wang

I've been totally into BTS for a year and a half & sadly never dreamt about them. After one day of finding Jackson Wangs hot self he hits up my dreams. He was literally swinging around the biggest dick I've ever seen and now..well... here we go.

Joon: Remember a few weeks ago when you were here and you thought Jackson was hot? 

Y/N: was he the one who was in the room with us masturbating while we fucked?  

Joon: God, you were so great that day. Yeah that's him.  

Y/N: OK… why? Are we going another round? 

Joon: He wants a 3

Y/N: I'm so fucking down Joon, he was gorgeous, and that body.. Ugh

Joon: Don't make me jealous,  you know I don't like to share. I'm doing it for you.  

Y/N: Yeah, ok….  you're full of shit. You want it just as bad as I do.  This is going to be one beautiful sandwich. 

Joon: Tonight, VIP Room at Cakeshop? 

Y/N: OMG, a real date? I'm honored… 

Joon: Rest up, we're going hard babe.  

You got to Cakeshop just after 11. It was lined up around the block but you walked past everyone straight to the door. 

The bouncer kissed your cheek and told you Joon was waiting inside. It didn't take long to spot him on the dance floor, he was always surrounded by groupies.

He was grinding on a lanky blond who was doing her best to look seductive, it was awkward.

Feeling a hand on your waist and warm breath on your ear a voice said "I'm glad you could make it tonight" and sucked a kiss onto your neck. 

Turning to face him you were amazed by his stunning looks. Having only seen him in the shadows you were not disappointed, you could feel yourself clench in anticipation. "I'm glad you asked Jackson, should we go rescue Joon and start our own party?" you offered.

"I think I might like you to myself for a while, show you off to some of my friends. You look fucking amazing" 

You'd stratigically picked a loose fitting black slip dress. It was short and flowing, the v neck accentuated your braless tits, your nipples erect and on pert display. Underneath black lace boy shorts barely covered your ass cheeks and just enough was wedged between to hug the curves.

"Why don't you buy me a drink?"

Standing at the bar he moved his hand down the small of your back and you swear he let out a moan when he felt your panties through the thin material of the dress. You didn't even need to look to tell he was hard already.

The bartender made his way over asking what you wanted, you leaned far over the bar to get closer to him, ass on display for Jacksons benefit "Two ankles in the air, please"

Turning back to Jackson you smirked,  he shook his head "I'm in trouble aren't I?" 

After several shots you decided it was time. The way his shirt pulled tight across his chest was making you crazy. Flirtatiously rubbing your hand over his bicep, you asked if he wanted to dance.

Jackson led you through the crowd, finding Joon and his friend for the night,  he smiled at the both of you but kept on dancing. Honestly you didn't care, you wanted Jackson, Joon was good but he wasn't new and exciting.

You pressed yourself close to Jacksons chest, making sure he'd feel your hard nipples, hands running over his arms and pulling them around you. Taking it slow you moved with the music until he kissed you. Soft lips, soft tongue his hands were on the swell of your ass as you gripped his hair and moaned into his mouth. 

Hitting Joon to get his attention he shouted "We need to go. "

Joon grinned at him, "Meet you there in a bit." 

The private VIP was dark, it contained a leather couch some club chairs and a few tables. There was a bouncer at the door and a server inside to take care of your drinks, all with signed ndas guaranteeing discretion. You ordered a bottle of tequila with all the accompaniments for a good time.

"I've never done this before," Jackson said laughing, why do shots have to be so complicated? Can't we just down them?"

You crawled over to straddle his lap fanning out your dress so he knew he was one layer closer to your pussy.

Tequila in hand you teased, "We could but I think you'll like this better."

Lifting his t shirt over his head you threw it on the floor. His abs were outstanding,  he was built like no man you've ever seen and it gave you great pleasure to lick a stripe across his peck and shake the salt on him. His eyes were dark and hungry watching you.

You placed the lime in his mouth "are you ready?"

As soon as he nodded ok you took the shot, licked the salt off his chest and sucked the lime out of his mouth. His cock twitched underneath you, bigger than you remembered, "It's your turn baby."

He sat up keeping you in his lap, "anywhere?"

You nodded, "anywhere"

He reached into your dress and cupping your breast pulled the fabric down so you were exposed.

The door opened and Joon and his girl walked in. He was unfazed but her look of surprise let everyone know she wasn't in your league. 

"Don't stop on our account" Joon said.

Jackson stuck his tongue out and traced it over your nipple, stopping to suck for a second making it good and wet he pulled off and shook the salt. He repeated your steps tequila, salt, lime but when he finished he immediately went back to your chest greedily sucking as you pulled on his hair in ecstasy.

"Everyone out" Joon clapped at the server, his blond moved to pull him closer.

"Not tonight sweetheart, you can't handle what's going to happen here."

He swatted her ass on the way out and you felt proud to be on equal standing with these powerful men. 

"I'm glad to see you two are getting on so well," Jackson continued to suckle while Namjoon walked closer undoing his pants.

He pulled your dress over your head "How wet are your panties baby girl? Is Jackson as good as you thought he'd be?"

You ground yourself onto Jackson, "I need more, I need to see if your cock is as big as I remember."

You lifted yourself up and undid his zipper pulling out his length, "even better."

Pulling your panties to the side you lined up and sank onto him,  you couldn't help but gasp, his size overwhelming you.

Bouncing up and down a few times he threw his head back to enjoy the pleasure, Namjoon came and stood beside you, "open up" he said holding his dick up to your mouth.

Obligingly you did as you were told and let Joon fuck into your mouth while you were riding Jackson.

"How's she feel?" Joon asked.

"I'm fucking mad you didn't tell me about her sooner," Jackson quipped back.

"Did she suck you yet? It's her specialty" Deciding to switch,  Joon brought you over to the table, "lay back baby."

Laying on your back your head hung over one side, legs propped up the other. Jackson stood by your head until you opened wide and angled yourself for him to fuck into your throat while he played with your nipples. Joon positioned himself between your thighs and began drilling into you while rubbing your clit.

The pleasure that rolled through your body was like one wave after another. Choking around Jackson's cock while moaning you looked up at him, his eyes were closed and sweat was dripping down his torso.  Reaching back you ran your hand over his abs feeling every muscle contract with his thrusts.

He opened his eyes and looked down, "Are you going to cum baby?" Jackson asked you pulling himself out of your mouth.

"I want you both inside me, is that ok?" He bent down and kissed you deeply, helping you up and back over to the couch.

"Heads or tails?" Joon asked.

Ignoring him, Jackson spoke straight to you "I want to feel you cum on me, I want to cum inside you"

Jackson sat on the couch while you took your position on top of him while Joon stood leaning in to stuff himself into your ass.

It didn't take long for all three of you to reach peak arousal, the thrusts of both men filling you until you couldn't take anymore.

Joon came first, pulling out he dripped down your ass mixing with your creamed excitement. He watched as Jackson's cock pushed it inside your cunt, blending all of you together.

Jackson stopped pumping,  holding your hips down he encouraged you to take him to the hilt and bring yourself to orgasm.

"Cum on me Y/N, you've been so good baby. I want to feel it, clench that beautiful pussy around my cock"

Moaning and grinding he sat up a little so his abs were hard underneath you. Grabbing your ass he dragged you up and down his cock rubbing you against his lower abs until you came. You spasmed around him while he shot his load hot and deep inside you.

Collapsing on top of him you both lay there recuperating. Joon was already dressed and headed to the door, "you kids enjoy the rest of your night" he called out.

"Want to get out of here?" Jackson asked.

"I guess I should probably let you get back to bar night" you reached for your dress slipping it back on.

"I was kind of hoping we could go back to my place…?" he asked quietly. Wanting more of him, just him, you agreed.

You walked through the club hand and hand, Joon was back with his blond and she stared you down as you left. You smiled knowing that she was going to get a taste of your ass tonight while Joon was in her mouth.