#johnny doesn't live here anymore

[greensparty]

RIP John Ashton and Kris Kristofferson

Here is my combined remembrance of two entertainers we lost today:

Remembering John Ashton 1948-2024

Actor John Ashton has died at 76. He was most known for playing Sgt. Taggart in Beverly Hills Cop, Beverly Hills Cop II, and this year's Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F.

Ashton, Eddie Murphy and Judge Reinhold in Beverly Hills Cop

Other notable performances included Breaking Away, an episode of Police Squad!, the father in Some Kind of Wonderful, She's Having a Baby, Trapped in Paradise, Gone Baby Gone, and Middle Men.

The link above is the obit from Hollywood Reporter.

Remembering Kris Kristofferson 1936-2024

Outlaw country music singer/songwriter and actor Kris Kristofferson has died at 88.

He began as a songwriter, notably "Me and Bobby McGhee" recorded by a number of artists, my favorite being Janis Joplin. He worked with another outlaw Johnny Cash! In addition to his own music and songwriting, he did some solid covers, including his cover of The Beatles' "Paperback Writer". Just a few years ago he collaborated with Moby and Mark Lanegan on a song too!

Kristofferson and Richard Linklater on Fast Food Nation

He also had quite a acting career. He wasn't just a musician trying to act, he actually did some impressive work. Notable performances included Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid, Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (director Martin Scorsese also made reference to him in Taxi Driver a few years later) as the ringmaster in Big Top Pee-wee, Lone Star, Blade, and the narrator in I'm Not There. Ethan Hawke was a big fan of Kristofferson and worked with him on a films he directed (Chelsea Walls and Blaze) and acted in (Richard Linklater's Fast Food Nation) and he even wrote an article for Rolling Stone about him.

O'Connor and Kristofferson

Possibly one of the greatest acts of human empathy ever displayed in public was at the 1992 Bob Dylan tribute concert at Madison Square Garden. A few weeks earlier Sinead O'Connor tore up a picture of the Pope and said "Fight the Real Enemy", which we all learned later on she was right about. But many were quick to cancel her immediately. She showed up at the tribute concert and got booed. There is an inherent irony of people going to a Bob Dylan tribute concert and booing an artist for speaking their mind. Kristofferson introduced her at the concert, then whispered words of encouragement to her during the jeers and consoled her with a hug as she was leaving. At a moment when everyone wanted to kick her while she was down, he rose to her defense and years later we realize the haters were wrong. Well done Kristofferson!

The link above is the obit from Hollywood Reporter.

[oceantornadoo]

you: an absolute teeth-aching bone deep want to be loved and to give love. that hollow feeling behind your chest is too familiar and you want it gone. you just want to be in love, to treat someone with gentleness and to be wanted.

your 141 bae who has been in love with you since the moment he met you: ...i'm right here

gn!reader headcanons below the cut:

childhood best friend simon: let's say you knew him before he lost his family. a scrawny-limbed blond, always willing to extend a trip to the park or a cigarette behind school - anything to not go home. you'd visit him when he started part-time as a butcher in high school, wrinkling your nose at the smell of bloody meat but staying anyways, doing your homework at the singular table in the shop. he was there when you moved away from town, for college or a new job or any life-altering decision that he was secondary to, something simon could only hope to grasp. once he leaves for the military, you mourn your relationship and move on. simon is a blur in your mind, a reminder of snow days and sweet tea summers and leaf piles and dandelion picking, on a nostalgic shelf in the untouched corners of your brain. ten years later, you've finally made a name for yourself and truly gotten out; grown roots. but you still have this soul-deep yearning, some unfamiliar-shaped hole in your chest that miraculously fills when you open your door to simon, a grown man who's tired of wanting you from afar. tired of stalking your social media and writing fantasies in his head. tired of picking people to fuck just because they look like you, then going soft halfway through because their voice isn't the right pitch. he's here, and he's ready to do whatever it takes.

best friend gaz: now this is different from a childhood best friend, so keep that in mind. gaz is always this guy-next-door type with a panty-dropping smile and impeccable manners. this notion does him some good, helps him avoid some deep-rooted british military prejudices, but it also turns you away. you check him off as nice and place him in the best friend box. you don't understand how he tracks your every move on a mission, almost always getting caught by johnny or price. you miss how he grips his pint ten times harder when he sees you on the pub floor, dancing with some stranger whose hands are a bit too low. he tells you he gets rejected for being "too nice", but really, he ignores his 27 unread DMs and flirty cafe eye contact in favor of movie nights, prank wars, your shitty reality shows. he's grasping onto straws, can't you see sweetheart? when you're drunk and turn into a cuddler, he can pretend just for a second that you truly mean it. gaz lets your hands wander under his shirt, lets you murmur your darkest fear of never being loved into the quietness of your room, leaving you to sleep on top of your covers with a kiss to the forehead. he doesn't know what's pushed him over: you almost dying on that last mission, you making out with a stranger in a bar, you you you in those pants and that shirt and that's it. he has to say something. has to put it all on the line because gaz can't live like this anymore.

best friend's brother price: it was some one-sided crush, your best friend's brother with his suave teenage ways as compared to your brutal tween phase, acne and braces on the way. it had dissipated quickly, john never the wiser, his presence substituted with trendy band obsessions and first kisses. instead, it happened at your best friend's wedding. you were both in the wedding party, some object of fate throwing you together as your best friend forced you two to dance. you were tipsy on champagne, on the happiness of marriage, that you giddily admitted your fleeting childhood crush and how much john had grown since then. and that was it. john was always going to settle down, always going to have a pretty thing waiting for him back home, he just didn't figure out until right now that it would be you. he tries to hide his affections under friendliness, not wanting to ruin your friendship with his sibling, but john has never been discrete. he's suddenly invading your life with offers of fixing your kitchen sink, painting that one spot you can't reach, moving your couch to fit your latest pinterest board. you're practically family, love - which kills all your hopes for something more, feeling like a familyzone. but john means it differently, means you're predestined to be his, already accepted and loved by his loved ones and how could he not see it before? you refuse to accept his kindness and it absolutely kills him, so he scares off potential dates and any chance of meet-cutes with an arm around your waist and why can't you see him the way he sees you?

friends with benefits johnny: it was just sex, right? you'd been the one to say it, the one to set that boundary with your fellow sergeant. you didn't think johnny was capable of more, mistaking his cheeky smirks and booming laugh for being unserious, when in reality, johnny is as serious as it gets. he tells himself he can fuck you because he'll marry you one day, that cross sitting heavy under his shirts. he doesn't wash his sheets for weeks after that first fuck, too busy inhaling the scent of you cumming around his mouth, his cock. that is, until, you tell him his sheets stink and refuse to fuck him and he pretends you're having an argument as a married couple, all intimate and bored. johnny sees a recruit getting too flirty and pulls you into a supply closet using his best distraction methods. he sways you from joining a month's long solo mission, some stupid excuse about missing your lips too much when really he knows it's a suicide mission. johnny forces you to stay over after a midnight fuck, some bullshit about simon being up at that time and seeing you in the hallway on base. in reality, he treasures cuddling you with his brawny arms, pretending you're his willingly. pretending he's made peace with you, this wild creature, never tamed but understood. he can't force himself to ask for more, too scared to lose the crumbs he's holding onto. johnny tries to hide it with a fiery personality and a thick accent, but inside? he's a complete goner.

[coffee-blvck]

Soap pops an unexpected question 💍

Originally posted on my AO3 - coffeeblvck

“Marry me.” Nearly drowned out by gunfire, it takes a few moments for the words to settle in your ears. Half pleading, half a grunt, as Soap throws his back against the concrete barrier. Bullets rain above your heads.

When your thoughts finally catch up with one another, you're left staring at your partner. You must look like a deer in headlights, blinking as if trying to convince yourself you had actually heard him. “What??”

“Marry me. Right here, right now.” He breathes, twisting up and firing twice. You continue to stare dumbly. This had to be a joke. You're in the middle of battle right now, fighting for your lives. But his tongue is dripping with fierce honesty and you can't come up with any other reason. “Serious, Major. Marry me.”

Your body reacts before you can form a response, gripping fiercely at his collar and pulling him to you. Gunfire still peppers the air around you as you kiss him. It's hasty and you both jerk a little, pulsing with adrenaline and flinching against the onslaught of gunfire.

It's your turn to twist about, firing down a few loose ends breaking from their lines of defense, and as you turn back Soap is mirroring your elated grin. Checking your magazine, you shrug. “Okay.”

Neither of you bring it up again. When you're the last to make it back to the safe house, Ghost is the first to grill you and Soap on your recklessness, and for not responding to the comms after the fact. Price was at the ready, with Gaz at his side to lead a squadron to track you down. When Soap merely ducks his head and takes the scolding without argument, the team starts to question what really happened out on the field. Your sheepish grin doesn't help the matter as you depart to clean yourself up.

That night, draped together and still high with adrenaline, it comes up. “I was serious ya know,” He whispers against your neck, peppering the soft skin with his lips and hoping, praying, you were as serious as he was. He takes your fingers curling through his as a good sign.

You're so pretty, Soap thinks, bathed in the moonlight and wrapped against him. He wants to die this way. He could die a happy man even if this was his last memory.

“I was too.”

A beat of silence. Soap hoists himself onto an elbow, gazing down at you to be able to see your full face. To memorize the way your eyes glittered in the pale light, the smile that forced the dimples and lines into your cheeks. It was a little crooked, your smile, but he could swear he’d never seen any art as perfect.

“Say it again.”

“I'm serious, Johnny. I’ll marry you.” You kiss him, soft and quick and he can't help but pout as you pull away, falling back into the mattress.

“I love you.” He breathes. This was heaven, and he was the luckiest man on earth at this moment.

“You're dumb.” You laugh, pulling gently at his neck for another kiss. “I love you too, pretty boy.”

Price is the first to notice the pretty little gem on your finger and how his usually level headed medic can’t stop staring at it during that morning's debriefings. It had been a few weeks since the operation and the question, a long overdue moment of quiet for the entire Task Force. No one had really paid any mind to the way Soap kept his chest puffed when you were in the same room together.

“Is that what happened, Major?”

“Is what what happened?” You ask dumbly, attention pulled away from the little gem.

“That,” Price gestures with his cigar. “It's new.”

“I'm married.” You blurt out, a shy grin creeping across your features. You couldn't hide your excitement anymore. It hadn't been a secret, but neither you nor Soap had gone out of your way to spill the news either. Now with the ring around your finger, Soap had given it to you one early morning over coffee before training, you found your new reality hammering inside your chest, begging to be flaunted to someone, anyone who would listen.

“Come again?” Price was sure he had heard you correctly, but couldn't help but ask for you to repeat yourself. The task force was his family, and his heart swelled with pride that a piece of his family had found their happiness.

The grin on you only grows. “I'm married, Captain.”

“When…?”

“Johnny asked while we were clearing loose ends, before we made it back to the safe house. It was so fucking stupid. How could I say no?”

[callofdudes]

So, uh, I was watching Bad Boys 2 with my dad and when the shootout scene happened and Marcus accidentally got shot in the ass I couldn’t help but wonder after I was done LMFAOing; how the COD boys (or the guys from 141 if you have a character limit) would react to and deal with having been shot in the ass? Especially if their S/O or best friend was there?

Ouchie ouchie. Here ya go anon! Sorry it took so long!

Getting shot in the ass.

Fucking humiliated.

First off, it hurt and oh boy he would not talk to anyone. If you're not in the immediate vicinity of medical attention he is going to have to be taken care of by one of you.

He'd probably trust either you or Price. He loves Johnny but not enough to touch his whole ass.

If you're his spouse you will 100% try to make jokes to calm him down, and it doesn't end up making it any better. Simon laying on his stomach writhing in pain while you've got him pantsed.

He's never speaking to any of you again. He'd rather be buried alive than have you bandaging his whole asscheek so he doesn't bleed everywhere.

"Are-fuck! Are you done yet!?" He growled, turning into a whine near the end because he's in pain. Come on man...

"Almost Simon, just hang in with me ok?"

He whines, and you continue to as gently as you can patch the wound. And like a meanie you're trying not to laugh the whole time.

When you're done you'll pat his butt gently and help him up. "Fuck you, and fuck that last 20 minutes of my life." He winces, attempting to stand.

"It's an occupational hazard y'know-"

"In my ass. MY BLOODY ARSE!"

"Well it's not bloody anymore...??"

Yeah he's never speaking to you. Or the others. He'll go back to that coffin where he was safe and his beautiful ass wasn't being threatened 24/7.

When you get back if you tell anyone he's suffocating you in your sleep. Not like the medical team will let him go. Surgery to get the bullet out of his arse and then was hurting for weeks.

Glaring constantly because now he has one of those butt pillows that you'd sit on after a BBL. And the recruits are bugging him because, "Got a lift Lt??" "Thought it was already big enough."

His arse is a point of contention for him and now he's being pointed out for the masses.

"You... You want me to help??"

"Nope." He dragged his leg, limping his way as blood spilled.

"You've uh, got a hole in your-"

"I'm very well aware!" He grimaced, trying to ease down on his side. "Other room." He demands.

"I can help-"

"OTHER ROOM."

"Yes sir."

You step away and let Price undo his belt and survey the damage himself. The last time he was bleeding from his arse his military dad was spanking him upside down and sideways.

By the time he realizes he's going to need a little help he's already regretting his life. He's nearly had his balls shot off before, this shouldn't be news to him, but also, why....

Begrudgingly he calls you back in after messing with it enough it hurts twice as much as before.

So you grab some bandages and get to work.

"Don't-"

"I'm very well aware of where my hands are going captain, you're fine."

"Gross."

"You're bleeding."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." He rubbed his forehead, sighing.

You feel less inclined to snicker at Price because the poor man is just trying to make a living fighting crime. He doesn't deserve this. His beautiful soft ass doesn't deserve this.

When you get back he is just wanting the bullet out by that point so he doesn't fight medical. They get the bullet out and he is taking painkillers like they're going out of style. (No, not in an unhealthy way)

Will probably stay between his room and his office. He wants to do work very badly and hasn't enjoyed sitting around doing nothing for long periods of time.

Can't wear his favorite pants now because they're tighter and the seam cuts right into the stitches. Sweatpants and butt pillow it is until he's out of this hell.

Most recruits know not to poke the bear, unlike you. Or Simon.

"Whew, that was close." You panted and looked at Johnny with relief. "No kidding." But as the adrenaline wore off, Johnny felt lightheaded, and fell to his side.

"Ow-" He winced, his leg feeling numb. You quickly rushed to him and looked him over. He wasn't shot anywhere... Oh. Oh, no never mind, yes he was.

"Johnny..."

"Yeah..?"

"You're shot."

Johnny followed your gaze and saw.

Surprisingly calm. Like, out of everyone he doesn't panic as much. Pulls up his shirt into his mouth and tells you to get it out.

You're hesitant because it's trying to pull a bullet out of someone's ass. And pulling a bullet out is never... Fun. But he trusts you, even if his cheeks are glaringly red from utter embarrassment.

But he doesn't want anyone else to do it for some reason, so you do your best.

Long story short, it did not go well. You ended up messing with the wound that his right ass cheek was so swollen. He looked like an idiot. Laying on his stomach in pain while waiting for Evac.

"I'm sorry..." You rubbed his shoulder.

You'd pulled his pants down further, while still being respectful. But man if he didn't look stupid, and it looked like it hurt. One cheek much bigger than the other, red and swollen.

Johnny promised to never get shot in the ass again. After he was put on bed rest because he had an infection. So uh... That was a fun adventure.

"Why the hell did you try to dig the bullet out of my ass??" He looked over at you when you visited him.

"You told me to do that! I told you it was a bad idea."

"Oh yeah..." He sniffled and crossed his arms, pouting his lip.

"Johnny.. come on, it'll get better."

"Well it can't get worse. Can it?"

"Ow!! Bloody- shit!" He slid down a wall and looked down at his side, expecting the stinging pain he felt to have hit his leg, he was dismayed to find the bullet had got him in the ass.

"Oh fucking of course!" He groaned and tried his best to hold something over the wound while still getting bullets pelted at him.

"How're we looking, sergeant??"

Kyle looked back briefly and then adjusted his gun. "Fine! But I've got a bloody hole in my arse!"

"Say again?"

Kyle groaned. Falling out of helicopters, getting shot in the ass, what was next huh?

"I've. Got. A. Bullet. In my ass!!"

Mortified when the others get to him and see he was not lying. Kyle must have just about the worst luck because what the hell is this?? They got him to medical and they did indeed confirm he had a bullet where the sun don't shine.

His perfect, pretty, unscarred butt was now about to be dug into to get a bullet out. How humiliating. He had bad stuff happen to him, but this he refused to talk about.

"How're... How're you feeling?" You asked after he came out of surgery. Still high on drugs, Kyle glared at you. "Don't even..."

"Don't what?" You snickered slightly.

"Oh fuck off..."

You smiled a little and sat down. "Hey, you'll recover. It sucks, but you've gotten through worse."

"Bullet in the ass."

"Had a bullet in the ass."

"It was still there at one point. That was my reality, y/n!"

You lovingly shushed him with a glass of water.

Kyle did not say a word about it. Even when he needed a pillow to help him sit after the surgery, he never pointed it out. And the others saw the look, if they said anything Kyle would drag them behind a shed and suffocate them with said pillow.

And therefore, for everyone's collective safety, it was never brought up.

[pyrodolls]

yandere mk1 men x compliant! reader

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of violence and murder, stockholm syndrome, all men are yandere and ooc, implied afab reader in johnny's, implied nsfw in bi-han's, mentions of an anxiety attack in zeffeero's, tomas is a masochist, gender neutral reader, reader doesn't care that they were kidnapped

summary: the mk1 men (johnny cage, bi han, kuai liang, zeffeero, tomas vrbada) are yandere, and they just kidnapped you. but you seem to not care...

a/n: sorry again for my late updates😭 anyways i was reading a yandere fic and i was like 'i would just give up and accept my fate if a yandere kidnapped me.' so here's some hcs based on that lil thought LMAOO

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

johnny cage would be ECSTATIC when he notices how compliant you are. thank god he didn't have to force you to accept your new life, that would've been ugly. now, he can live out his fantasy of a perfect life with you! and don't worry about your needs such as food and water, he's got the money to take care of that. besides, now you're with THE johnny cage! other people would sell their soul to be in your spot. you're grateful for your new life, right? you have to now, because johnny is so excited to start a family with you very soon, whether you like it or not.

bi-han wouldn't be surprised that you submitted to him so easily. it was a wise choice to be obedient. if you didn't, bi-han would have to punish you. and we wouldn't want that, would we? obviously, bi-han's always had the power and resources to make sure you never escape in the first place, but since you're just so calm and compliant, he doesn't have to stress about that anymore. but that doesn't mean he's entirely trusting of you yet. he would still keep his guard up for the first few months of your capture, just in case you were deceiving him with your willingness. but overall, bi-han is glad that you are so compliant. he brings you outside every now and then as a reward for your obedience. who knows, maybe if you keep up your good behavior, he'll reward you even more.

kuai liang was not excited to take you in. he knew you'd probably resist him, but it's for the best! please don't kick and scream at him, he's doing this because he loves you. he's keeping you safe, there's a lot of bad people out there that could hurt you and he can protect you from them. as soon as you noticed you were in an unknown place, he braced for an argument of some sorts, until you casually addressed him and asked where you were. kuai liang explained your situation and told you that he was doing it because he loves you so much, and you'll understand someday. surprisingly, you simply nodded and shrugged, accepting your situation and deciding not to defy scorpion himself. he was relieved that you didn't have any qualms with your new life, especially after he put so much effort into mending your new living space to your liking. he worked very hard to provide you with enough of your necessities to make you never want to leave.

zeffeero is confused at how cooperative you are. he had an entire anxiety attack before he committed the act, berating himself for doing such an atrocious thing. he would've hated for you to despise him, even though he would've understood why. fortunately, his anxieties were put to rest as soon as he saw how casually you handled the situation. even though it left him wondering if you were as mentally sane as he thought you were. but that doesn't matter, because now zeffeero doesn't have to hold back on his affections. he took your compliance as a sign that you are okay with his twisted way of loving you. now, your life within those walls is a lot more suffocating than you thought it would be.

tomas vrbada had mixed feelings about the situation. if you woke up in an unknown place, surely you'd be pissed at him. so you would probably cuss him out, or even fight him physically. tomas doesn't want to hurt you, but at the same time, he would relish in your hatred for him. for some reason, tomas would get a strange high out of your assertion and he'd feel very flustered if you were ever aggressive towards him. you could yell at him for the smallest thing, and he'd just stare at you with adoration as if he was in a trance. even though he would love for you to yell and scream at him, he would ultimately prefer for you to be happy with him and your new life. tomas desperately wants to have a normal-ish relationship with you, so it would be best if you were compliant with him. thankfully, you ended up quite cooperative with tomas, and easily adjusted to your new life. it made him so happy that you accepted him, that he spoiled you with everything you could ever want. tomas is at your beck and call, and he will do anything to make you happy. except free you.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ฿Ⱡ₳₦₭ ₴₱₳₵Ɇ | ₮₩Ø | ♡

♡ Pairings: fratboy!jaehyun x chubby!fem!reader, fratboy!johnny x chubby!fem!reader (appearances by other members)

♡ Genre: college au/angst

♡ Summary: It's been weeks since your last arguement with Jaehyun and you've refused to speak to him since. He doesn't know who or what has your attention but the fact that it isn't him is eating him alive. It makes no difference to you, who's confident in your choice to be with Johnny but when you show up to the frat house unexpected, accidentally revealing your little love affair, you bring out a side of Jaehyun you've never seen before. One that might make leaving him in the past a bit harder than you anticipated.

[Part One Here 🖤]

♡ Word Count: 2.5k-ish

♡ Warnings: none really except that this part is Jaehyun focused so Johnny's only around for a second (the next one will be more Johnny focused). It's heavy on the angst. Most of the fratboys are dickheads to women really. There's also mentions of drinking/casual sex and strong language.

♡ A/N: At last I've written part two. It took me a bit because my health has been kicking my ass but I was determined to add to this lil fic of mine so I hope you beautiful humans enjoy this chapter.

P.S My usual thank you to @anyamaris for reading this before I posted it. I'm in terrible need of a second brain lately and I appreciate you for so happily stepping up to be it 🖤

You fight. You cry. You get back together again. Fight. Cry. Get back together again. That’s the way things have always been between you and Jaehyun. He knows it isn’t healthy but, in his own twisted way, it’s the only way he can trust that you care about him. There’s no justification for it, nothing you did to him in the past that warrants such cruel and unusual punishment. 

Jaehyun’s addicted to the rush of getting back together. The desperate, passionate moment when your bodies collide after a week or so apart. Both of you too filled with need to care about what tore you apart in the first place. He can only get that with you, he only wants it with you.

But this time he took it too far, did a bit too much in his attempt to make you jealous, and now you won’t even speak to him. When he knocks on your door your roommate lies and says you aren’t there, refusing to open it more than a crack to shoot him down. Every call goes to voicemail, every text message left undelivered, and on the rare occasions that you run into each other you treat him like a ghost. 

Seated on the sectional couch at the heart of his living room, Jaehyun stares into the void of faceless partiers swarming the frat house. The beer cradled between his fingers has the top popped off but has barely been touched. The chattering of his frat brothers scattered across the couch might as well be miles away. 

A girl in a black mini skirt sneaks up behind him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You look sad, baby. Need me to cheer you up?” She licks her lips, planting soft, wet kisses down his neck the way she did a few nights ago when he was in need of some rebound sex that more than failed to satisfy him. 

Jaehyun pats her on the arm, shrugging her off, “Thanks but, uh, no thanks.” 

“Wait. What?” she frowns, arms folded across her chest, “You’re joking right?” 

Scooting closer to Jaehyun, his frat brother Taeyong places a sympathetic hand on hers. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t think he wants to play with you anymore." At the other end of the couch their brother Yuta raises his beer, winking at the girl, “But I will. I volunteer!” 

“Fuck you, Jaehyun and your asshole friends!” the girl huffs, storming off into the crowd. 

“Wait! Are you sure?” Yuta calls out after her, “Don’t you know what they say about Japanese guys with long hair?”

“Did she say fuck her in the asshole?” Doyoung, the most innocent of the frat brothers asks, his ears turning red from one too many shots. 

“Who’s getting fucked in the asshole?” Mark asks, flopping down beside Yuta on the couch. He’s younger than the other guys, probably shouldn’t be here, but they all have a soft spot for him, especially Yuta, so he gets to stick around. 

Yuta pouts, laying his head on Mark’s shoulder, “No one, sadly.” 

“Can you guys not be pigs for two seconds? Grow up” Jaehyun snaps, chugging down his beer so fast it makes him dizzy. 

“Ooh, someone’s cranky tonight” Taeyong teases, “What’s got you so uptight? You’re usually the worst of us.” 

Doyoung pours himself another shot, taking a quick, adorable sip of it. “She blocked him. On everything. Won’t even talk to him. So sad.” Jaehyun’s tempted to throw the empty bottle at Doyoung’s head and, unlike when you threw your shoe at him, there’s no way he could miss the shot. But Mark swoops in, wedging himself between Jaehyun and Taeyong to provide some comfort. “Aww, man, your girl broke your heart? I’m sorry. Hugs?” 

As Mark embraces Jaehyun, Yuta rolls his eyes at the display. “His girl?” Yuta laughs, “Hardly. He fucked her. By that standard mini skirt was his girl too.” 

“Oh and her!” Taeyong adds, pointing to the curly haired girl in the corner.

The others pile on, making a game out of spotting girls Jaehyun’s slept with. Jaehyun snatches free of Mark’s hug, refusing to sit through anymore of this. He’s ready to storm off himself but doubles back to clarify something. “She isn’t my girl but she’s not like them, alright? So respect her or I’ll hit you so hard every meal you have until next semester will need to be through a straw.” 

Taeyong throws his hands up, leading the others in easing up on Jaehyun, “No problem, bro. We were just fucking with you. We’l respect her.” 

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” you ask, clearing your throat. The sound of your voice makes Jaehyun’s heart skip a beat and when he turns around to find that pretty face staring back at him, his heart all but stops. 

“N…no, we were just, wh…what are you doing here?” he stutters, a glimmer of emotion showing through for the first time in a long time. “I thought you hated me.”

You knew this day would come. It’s going on 3 weeks of evading any form of interaction with him but you knew that one day your luck would run out. You’d have to experience this moment. This conversation. The feelings you had for Jaehyun haven’t subsided easily. It stung to accept that he could never feel for you the way you wished he did but it was easier to let go when you had someone soft and loving to land on. 

Johnny hasn’t been your rebound, he’s been the furthest thing from it. You adore being with him. He does all the things you ever wanted a guy to do. He’s silly in ways you don’t always get but that’s just a part of his charm. He’s thoughtful and patient, never making you question if he has eyes for any girl other than you. You don’t hate Jaehyun. You don’t even have the time to when Johnny exists. 

“Hate you? No but have you…” you begin to whisper, burning under the spotlight of his frat brothers’ gaze, “Have you talked to Johnny?” 

Jaehyun’s a statue, rendered immobile by his confusion, “Talked to Johnny about what?”

“Baby!” Johnny cheers, popping out of the crowd to sweep you up into his arms, “What are you doing here? I told you I’d come get you.” 

“I know but my roommate was headed over here so I thought I’d save you a trip.” You try to clue him in that something’s happening but he’s showering you in so many kisses that you ultimately give into it, giggling like the happiest girl in the world. 

“Johnny, people are watching” you finally manage as your feet meet the ground again, Johnny’s arms secure around your waist. 

“Baby, I don’t care about people…” Johnny stops himself short, noticing precisely which people you happen to be referring to. 

The sadness on Jaehyun’s face tells you that he and Johnny haven’t talked about this. Not once. You catch yourself feeling bad for him, knowing the pain he feels oh too well. It’s the same pain that he dished out to you without remorse or reason and the thought of that turns your empathy into satisfaction. Revenge, bittersweet but successfully acquired all the same. 

“Jae, I’m sorry, really” Johnny apologizes, approaching Jaehyun to make peace but peace isn’t of interest and apologies aren’t enough. 

Jaehyun barrels past Johnny, nearly knocking him down in the process, “Fuck it, you can keep her. Have fun.” 

“Wait! I’m really…” Johnny calls after him, torn between chasing down his friend and staying here with you. 

Patting him on the shoulder, you give him a little peck on the lips, encouraging him to go ahead. “Johnny, I’ll be fine. Just do what you need to do.”

“Are you sure?” If you ask him to stay he will, no questions asked, no second guessing. If chasing after Jaehyun means hurting you he’d never do it in a million years. 

You crack a gentle, reassuring smile, “I’m sure. Now get out of here.” You playfully push him on his way and he kisses you on the back of the hand before letting go, rushing off into the direction Jaehyun was headed in. 

Jaehyun deserves a bit of pain for all he’s done to you but in both of their absences it sets in that maybe he isn’t the only one being hurt in all of this. Imagining how hurt Johnny would be at losing a friend, you feel the sudden weight of guilt the likes of none you’ve ever had to bear. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Especially not here in front of everyone.

“Aaah, a good old fashioned love triangle. The tragedy! The heartbreak!” Mark says, head thrown back dramatically.

Taeyong throws a pillow at Mark, shushing the younger man. Mark catches it, cuddling it in his arms like a stuffed animal. “What? I like love stories. I wonder, how’s it gonna end?”

Yuta grins at you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, “Yeah, cutie, you’re the one they're gonna kill each other over. You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” 

Wiping your increasingly sweaty palms on your dress, you feel the spotlight on you growing brighter and you can’t stomach it. You take off out into the night, navigating the minefield of passed out partiers to get across the front lawn. Yuta’s words echo in your mind, “You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” 

Like you have all the power. Like you’re the only one responsible for any of this. How’s it gonna end? You have no clue but you wish that the ending, however bad or good, would come already. 

You should be at a movie theater right now cuddled up beside Johnny eating overpriced snacks. Instead you’re standing in the frozen section of a fluorescent lit gas station contemplating which freezer burnt pint of ice cream you’ll drown your sorrows in tonight.

Somewhere in your purse your phone is on silent, no doubt blowing up with texts and calls from both of the men you find yourself tangled up with. The adult thing to do would be to go back to the party and face this problem straight on. Or you could demolish the snacks piled into your arms and pretend this never happened. 

“The second one, for sure” you decide, fumbling with the freezer door handle to retrieve your ice cream of choice. 

“Is there another party going on that I don’t know about?” Jaehyun asks, watching you from the end of the aisle. You groan, abandoning your ice cream mission to get as far away from him as possible. He steps in front of you, blocking your path, “I’m not stalking you. I promise. I just needed some air and I…anyway, let me help you.”

Jaehyun skips over to ice cream, popping the freezer door open. He pokes out his lip, eyebrows furrowed in as he scans the options. “There we go” he grins, plucking your favorite ice cream from the shelf on the first try. You’ve never explicitly told him which one it was and you try not to be impressed by the fact that he cared to take note of it but deep down inside you are.

“Come on, I’ll pay for it” he insists, leading the way to the register. It takes him a few steps to realize that you haven’t followed and he spins around on his heels to find you staring at him in disgust. 

“What I meant to say was, may I pay for your things, my queen?” A group of passing girls giggle as he bows to you with all the elegance of a man who’s in the presence of royalty. 

“Cut it out. You’re embarrassing me” you whine and he responds with a twirl that brings him closer to you, the already defrosting ice cream jumping from hand to hand. 

“Aah but I just want the queen to be happy and I do hear this is her favorite.”

“Oh, I’m a queen now? And what does that make you? My royal jester?” 

Jaehyun stares into your eyes, his expression turning serious, “If that’s what you want me to be.”

“It’s a little too late to be what I wanted you to be, isn’t it?” you ask, your voice shaking more than you’d like it to. 

“I don’t know, is it?”

He asks you the question like his whole life depends on your answer. He’s always been the one who had the upper hand, standing over you, his whimpering prey, with a knife to your throat that could end you at any time. It’s strange to be on the other end of it now but, unlike him, you’re prone to taking mercy on poor, wounded little animals. While you may not have it in you to strike the killing blow, you’re content to let him lie here and bleed out. 

“You know what? Suddenly I've lost my appetite” you say, emptying your snacks into his arms, “I’m sure there’s enough girls in your phone to share that with.”

This isn’t some melodramatic exit where you walk away expecting him to follow you. Running into him in the first place wasn’t the plan. Yet you’re barely out of the gas station parking lot when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand on end and you just know he’s trailing behind you.

“Will you at least let me take you home? You shouldn’t be walking alone. There could be psychopaths out here!”

You pick up speed repeating to yourself, “Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t—”

“I love you!” Jaehyun shouts for the entire block to hear. It’s his voice but those can’t be his words. Fueled by rage, you ignore your own advice and turn to confront him. 

“Take it back!” you demand, refusing to accept his profession. Of all the things he’s ever done to manipulate you this has to be the lowest he’s gone. 

“No, if I mean it then why should I?” 

“Because you’re lying! You’re a liar! It’s what you do. It’s what you always do!” you scream, the anger you’ve held in for months overflowing. 

“Okay, I am a liar. A liar and a piece of shit who couldn’t commit to you cause I was too afraid of getting hurt so I hurt you first” he admits, “And that’s not for you to fix. Maybe I need fucking therapy, I don’t know, but I do love you.”

“That’s not enough!”

Jaehyun sees you motion to leave again and grabs your wrists, locking them at your sides. “Then tell me what’s enough and I’ll do it. It can’t be too late for us. I’m falling apart without you.”

Tears run hot down your cheeks and he cups your face, kissing them away. It feels nicer than you want it to, more calming than repulsive. You were out, done with him forever, and look at you now, standing under the streetlights melting into the palms of his hands.

But this time is different from the others and far more dangerous because for once the liar isn’t lying. He loves you and it means it. Why the fuck does he have to mean it?

[hypewinter]

3 HC/AU Prompt Thingy (3)

1). Box Ghost hears he was powerful and feared I'm the Dan timeline, gets ripped

2). Jason, as a reverent can hit ectoplasm ghosts

3). Guys Night Out (choose whatever ghosts you want)

(I love making these and your the only one who writes for them, :))

Ok hear me out: Full DILF box ghost. Don't scroll away and just give me a second of your time ok?

Boxy gets swoll. Real swoll. His gimmick might still be dumb but now he's so strong that no one dares to point that out anymore. That being said, he is still the best dad ever to Boxed Lunch. I'm talking about helping her tie her shoes, being a willing participant in her tea parties, tucking her in at night, the works. He's such a good father that when Boxed Lunch asks for a super rare Orphan toy that was only ever distributed in Gotham, he immediately agrees to get it for her.

Johnny 13 hears about Box Ghost's little outing and invites himself along as he wants to get Kitty some new jewelry to make up for their last fight. Thus begins a wild night for Boxy and Johnny as they both have a heart to heart (now that Johnny 13 can't make fun of him for fear of being punted through a wall) plus they even bond over how much they love the women in their lives.

All is going well. The boys have done some fun stuff around the city, gotten up to a little mischief, and even picked up Johnny's apology jewelry. The only thing left is Boxed Lunch's toy. As they're scouring an abandoned warehouse full of discontinued toys that's when Jason drops it. He'd been getting reports of strange occurrences all night from his men and he'd finally been able to track it down to this warehouse. Of all the things Jason anticipated, it was not two weird looking metas going through boxes. But nevertheless he has a job to do.

He aims his gun at the two metas and demands they step away from the boxes. They don't. Why would they? They're ghosts, this human can't hurt them. Sure enough when Jason eventually fires at their knees after a couple of warning shots, the rubber bullets go right through. Jason is shocked to say the least. And now his mind is whirring a mile a minute trying to figure out how those two just did that. Meta powers? Hidden tech? How is he going to deal with this? He doesn't want to go through the embarrassment of calling for backup.

Johnny 13 on the other hand, is pretty peeved this guy won't leave them alone. He's ruining their night out! So he decides to scare him. Maybe that will make him leave. So Johnny gets right up in Jason's fac- er mask and lets out a pretty impressive ghostly howl if he does say so himself. Except instead of running away, Jason instinctively punches him. In the nose. And it hurts. A lot.

So now Johnny is reeling in pain, Jason realizes he can take care of these guys the old fashioned way and Boxy has finally found the Orphan toy. "Oh no!" I hear you say. "The fight of the century between Boxy and Jason is about to go down!" Actually no. Not really.

Box Ghost has been teaching Boxed Lunch about conflict resolution recently and he is not about to let his actions contradict his words. So he explains the situation to Jason. Jason for his part is a little miffed but understanding. You're just trying to be a good father. I get it. Besides these toys are just gonna collect dust in here anyways. Oh but you do have to return the jewelry. *Sad (and pained) Johnny 13 noises*

Jason kinda feels bad for the whole, punching Johnny in the nose thing (even though it was totally his fault) so he offers to take them to find non-stolen jewelry for Kitty instead. Thus the boys night continues! Now with extra shenanigans.

[sansaorgana]

I love soft Benny sm, but can we have some smut? 🥺 maybe he and the reader in the car after a picnic

hi, baby! 😘 thank you for your request and I am terribly sorry that you had to wait so long but I had lots of things on my head 😭 I missed writing and I missed writing for Benny so it's quite long and it's basically porn WITH plot 🤣😊 The Reader here doesn't have a good relationship with her family and her biggest wish is to run away somewhere with Benny – meanwhile his biggest wish is for her to marry him (Benny being Benny 🙄 lol)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Benny wasn’t visiting you at work every day but when he was – it was your favourite moment of the day. He would always order the same thing and sit in the same place on the barstool by the counter. He was not a man of many words so sometimes he would just sit there and watch you work for half an hour before leaving and hopping back onto his bike. But it was enough for you – to just have him around. It made you feel safe, loved and appreciated. 

You enjoyed the way the whole diner would go silent the moment he entered the place with those lazy, heavy steps. You liked the way you immediately knew it was him by the sound of his boots and by the smell of gasoline and cigarettes. His hands, dirty with grease, handing you a few crumpled dollar bills from the depths of his worn out jeans’ pockets. He was a dream come true for a girl like you. A girl who had never found anything exciting about all those ordinary guys your friends had been trying to trap ever since high school. Those proper guys, those football team captain guys, those college high achiever guys… No, they all lacked something for you. Benny had it, though, even though you couldn’t quite name it but it didn’t matter. He was not a man of many words anyway.

“Wanna go out with me later tonight? Join the picnic?” He mumbled on that day when you were taking an empty plate from him with a few toast crumbles left on it.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded. You had a day off on the next day so you didn’t mind staying up late. “You gonna pick me up?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m gonna get a car, okay? You can wear a dress if you wanna,” Benny said and cleared his throat before standing up and throwing a few crumpled dollar bills on the counter as usual. Without any other word, he walked out of the diner slowly, making heavy and slow steps.

You grabbed the money and watched him through the window for a while. You smiled to yourself when you saw him hopping onto his bike and driving away while the engine roared.

You wondered why he decided to take the car and whose car was it but it didn’t matter, honestly. You liked riding a bike with him but cars were more comfortable and he was right – you could wear a dress. And Benny loved you in dresses even though he never actually ordered you what to wear. However, when you had met him, you were wearing a cute pink dress but as your relationship had been progressing, you had bought more and more jeans and black leather pants for bike riding.

Tonight, you decided to surprise him and wear the very same cute pink dress that you had been wearing on the day you met.

You were a little bit nervous waiting for Benny on your driveway. You knew that your mother was staring angrily through the half-opened window with a cigarette in her hand, squinting her eyes at the car your boyfriend had driven here in. You recognised it immediately as Johnny’s.

The sun was slowly going down and you were hugging your own self even though you didn’t feel cold at all but you were anxious about your mother watching you and about the dress you had worn. What if Benny would find it silly? He was not exactly a very romantic type even though he had proposed to you on the second date.

You had declined, of course. But you had been very tempted and sometimes you had regretted your decision. If you had been his wife, you wouldn’t have to live with your mother anymore and life with her was not easy. Especially now when she was angry at you for dating a man like Benny.

Benny didn’t leave the car, though. He parked the vehicle and his arm lazily hung out from the window. There was a cigarette in his hand and he nodded at you to come over.

“Won’t you walk out and open the door for me like a gentleman?” You giggled as you leaned by the car’s window.

“Not when your mother’s killing me with her hawk eyes,” Benny snorted. “Get your ass inside, dollie.”

You nodded with a chuckle and sat in the passenger seat. The moment you closed the door behind you, Benny started the engine and drove away as fast as possible. He placed his hand on your thigh and you grabbed it with both of yours to play with his long fingers and the rings he was wearing.

“Why did you take Johnny’s car?” You asked, looking up at him.

“He wanted me to do him a favour and I needed a car with a big trunk for that. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, yeah, sweetheart?” Benny answered without even looking at your face but you noticed his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel and you immediately knew it was one of the mysterious jobs he was being assigned to do around the club.

It was the source of his money and you never asked because you didn’t have to be a genius to know it was nothing legal and nothing safe. You didn’t want to know but you were awfully worried.

“I would go crazy if something happened to you, you know that, right?” You only asked and swallowed thickly.

“I know,” he nodded but still didn’t look at you.

“Do you like my dress?” You changed the subject quickly and Benny finally laid his baby blue eyes on you. He looked you up and down with a slight smirk before looking back on the road.

“I do,” he answered. “You look fucking beautiful, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, Benny,” you felt your cheeks heating up and you had to look away, too. You kept holding his hand but your eyes were focused on the road now.

You loved those picnics. They made you feel like you were a part of something and that was a feeling you had missed your whole life. Your family was far from perfect and you had never felt like you truly had it – a family. They were just a bunch of people you shared some genetic code with. At school and at work you never truly had friends either. Not that you had been a complete loser, no. And those girls you had been hanging around with probably thought you were close. But you knew it was not true. You had never felt any deep connection to them and you had never been interested in what they were talking about because they mostly talked about boys. All those boys you didn’t find interesting at all.

But women here – the women dating The Vandals – they understood you. They all were here for different reasons but you all shared this one quality that made you attracted to men like those bikers. They were outcasts and it took lots of bravery and lots of rebelliousness to love a man like that.

Some of those girls were just like their men – dirty with grease, downing one beer after another, loud and vulgar. Some were party girls who wanted to have fun. Some were ordinary wives and mothers. You felt like you were all of them at once and none of them at the same time. But just like them – you were there and you were enjoying it. Sitting by the fire and sipping on the beverage Benny had brought you, gossipping with the women and laughing as the guys watched and talked by their bikes and cars. Sometimes they were showing tricks on their motorbikes or playing games.

The night was warm and you watched the sky as the sparks from the fire danced in the air. Nights like this should never end, you thought. And just when you were smiling to yourself about it, Benny approached you and put his hand on your shoulder to squeeze it gently.

“It’s time for us, baby,” he announced.

“So early?” You batted your eyelashes.

“Most people are goin’ back home now,” he pointed out and you looked around. He was right, you just hadn’t noticed, too distracted by your staring at the sky and daydreaming.

“Okay then,” you nodded and put down the coke bottle. “Bye!” You waved at the few girls who were still sitting there and they waved back at you.

Benny walked you to Johnny’s car and this time he opened the door for you like a gentleman. You chuckled and got inside but when the door behind you closed, you suddenly felt an odd and sad feeling deep in your gut. You realised that this night was truly about to be over now and you didn’t like it.

With a heavy heart, you watched Benny getting behind the steering wheel and starting the engine. He noticed your weird behaviour, though.

“What is it, doll?” He asked when you were on the road leading back to the city already.

“I don’t wanna go back home, Benny. Not yet,” you looked down and began to play nervously with the hem of your dress.

“We don’t gotta go home, baby,” Benny said after a short while of silence but you didn’t say anything to that. It was an empty promise if he hadn’t actually proposed anything. “I ain’t got a lotta money on me, sweetheart,” Benny sighed as he glanced at you nervously. The whole idea of him not being able to actually provide for you was a touchy subject for him.

“We don’t have to go to the motel, Benny,” you quickly said although you couldn’t understand how he could be broke after doing a job for Johnny. It was between them two, though. “We can simply ride around. It’s Johnny’s gas, right?” You bit on your lower lip and Benny chuckled at that as he nodded.

“Yeah, baby, it’s Johnny’s gas, so we can use it all and ride around,” he agreed and you smiled widely at that. “You wanna ride ‘round town or what?”

“Maybe we could go somewhere private,” you nodded. “To the forest?” You proposed. There was a secluded spot Benny sometimes was taking you to on his motorbike.

One thing about Benny that had been surprising to you at first but then it totally made sense later was that he loved nature.

“Sure, we can do that,” Benny nodded and you leaned back in the seat with a sigh of relief. With each passing moment you were more and more further away from Chicago and from your home with your mother waiting for you inside.

“I wish we could just ride and ride until we reach California,” you whispered. It was not the first time you mentioned it to Benny and you already knew what the answer would be like.

“I can’t. I got the club,” he answered and cleared his throat, a little annoyed by the fact you were constantly bringing this up. “Why are you so crazy about California, huh? Wanna be a movie star, baby?” He tried to turn it into a joke.

“It’s not about California, Benny,” you rolled your eyes. It was not about the California Dreamin’ at all. It was about running away to a sunny place with the love of your life to start over. “What about your cousin in Florida? Maybe we could go there?”

“Why would you even go with me anywhere, doll? I ain’t no good to you,” Benny pointed out but you froze at his words.

“What do you mean you ain’t no good to me?”

“If I was, you’d marry me,” Benny pointed out and now it was your turn to get a little irritated. He was bringing up the marriage subject as often as you were talking about running away.

“I would marry you if we got away from this place,” you crossed your arms and looked out of the window because you didn’t want to see his face at that moment. You were scared of his reaction – you had never made such a promise before.

“You know I can’t. I have my responsibilities here, I have the club,” Benny’s voice broke a little.

“Fuck the club,” you snapped and it made him speechless. You angrily looked back at his confused face. “You always talk about being so free and having no roots, whatever, but it’s all bullshit, Benny,” you huffed.

“You scare me, baby,” he only shook his head but he kept on driving. “You’re crazy-crazy.”

To that, you didn’t say anything and the rest of the drive was quiet. You knew he was right about many things – you really acted crazy sometimes. It was because you were a coward – too scared to change your life on your own. Too scared to go to the bank, take all your savings out and buy a greyhound bus ticket on your own to start a new life somewhere. You wanted to somehow use Benny to get away from this place. But it didn’t change the fact you loved him. You were crazy about him, in fact. And if your fate in life was to end up as his wife in some shitty rented flat in Chicago, you would end up as such.

“Come on, baby, I don’t wanna fight,” Benny sighed as he parked the car near your favourite spot in the forest.

“I don’t wanna fight either,” you sniffed your tears back but refused to look at him. Benny shook his head and put his arm around you to pull you closer and force you to lay your eyes on him.

He was staring at your face for a while with a mix of worry and curiosity in his blue eyes. You were sure that sometimes he would pay real money to find out what was going inside your head but you felt the same towards him so it was only fair.

Benny raised his hand to caress your cheek and wipe off all the tears before leaning in to kiss you sweetly. You kissed him back hungrily and nearly desperately, clinging to him with your fists tangled in the fabric of his jacket to pull him even closer.

“You’re fucked up but sweet,” Benny murmured after breaking the kiss and you chuckled.

“Would you want it any other way?” You asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“No way,” he shook his head before joining your lips together again. Benny deepened the kiss and you moved from your seat clumsily to sit on his lap, tangling your fingers in his golden locks to pull on them slightly as you moaned into his mouth.

You knew that Benny knew that you hadn’t wanted him to take you here to admire nature. Of course, you enjoyed it but when you wanted to go to such a place in the middle of the night it only meant one thing. You had usually been fucking on a blanket by the lake but now you had a car so you wanted to make a use of it.

Benny’s hands grabbed you by your waist and began to squeeze the soft flesh there, pulling the pink dress in the process and revealing more and more of your legs as you were spreading them open until you felt the hardening cock inside his jeans rubbing onto your clothed pussy, making it grow wet.

You reached out to the back of the dress and unbuttoned it there to make it loose around your arms. The stripes fell down immediately, revealing your bra. Benny’s long and skilled fingers unclasped it and threw it in the backseat as he groaned at the sight of your exposed breasts.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed out and you chuckled.

“So are you, baby,” you leaned in to rub your nose with his and peck his lips.

Benny watched your breasts in awe as if it was the first time he had seen them. In the meantime, your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans. When you could finally grab and squeeze his hardening cock through the fabric of his boxer shorts, Benny kept you balanced with his hands placed flat on your back before leaning in to suck on your breasts. He began with soft kisses around your nipples, scratching you gently with his facial hair, which was making you giggle playfully. Your hands kept working on teasing his cock as he sucked and bit on your breasts to turn you on even further and you could feel your pussy leaking already.

When you felt a small wet spot from Benny’s precum forming on his underwear, you pulled the boxer shorts down and freed his cock. He groaned at the feeling and you moaned at the sight before grabbing it in your hand. You pushed him back for a moment and his eyes widened at the sight of you leaning in and spitting slowly on the tip of his red and swollen tip.

“Fuck,” his eyes rolled back and you giggled before starting to pump his cock with your hand firmly, setting up a fast and steady pace. Benny started to dig his fingernails in the soft skin of your back but he was trying to stop himself from scratching you too much. Your free hand grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to open his eyes and focus them on you again. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, his gasps barely audible.

“And all yours, Benny, baby,” you assured him and at those words, he groaned and moved his hands back to your hips. One of his hands went lower to pull your panties aside and reveal how wet and sticky you were already for him.

You guided his cock to your entrance and sank on it slowly, savouring every moment as your walls clenched around his length, which was filling you up sweetly and stretching you out. You hissed and threw your head back as your eyes rolled and Benny kept squeezing your hips to keep you steady and control the pace.

When you finally had him whole deep inside of you, Benny gave you a moment to adjust. A moment filled with your deep and loud breaths and his face pressed to your chest as he went back to sucking on your nipples.

Eventually, you looked down and put your hands on his shoulders for balance as you began to roll your hips and ride him slowly. Benny was an impatient man, though, and he started to help you immediately by pushing his hips up and rutting into you, which made you gasp and moan as your fingernails dug deep into his shoulders.

Benny moved his lips up from your breasts to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there and leaving his hot and wet open-mouth kisses all over. You wondered what Johnny would say if he had known what you were doing inside his car but you shrugged this thought off quickly.

The driver seat was squeaking from all your fucking and you were sure that the car was bouncing itself in the rhythm of your hips but you knew very well that no one would catch you there in the middle of the forest. Parking lots were much more risky. But not this forest, not this place. In fact, it was your place. And perhaps you would be missing it if you managed to get away from Chicago. 

You whined and trembled when Benny’s cock found your sweet spot after you moved slightly and he was able to fuck you in a different angle. You cupped his face to move it away from your neck and he looked up to meet your gaze. His blue eyes were hazy but yours were finding it difficult to focus as well since they were filled with tears of pleasure. You pressed your forehead to his and helped him to fuck you by rocking your hips back and forth.

“I love you, Benny,” you let out a quiet whisper from your lips to his, for nobody else to hear. “I’m gonna marry you, baby,” you promised, picking up the pace.

Your words made him groan and start rutting into you faster as well but his moves were growing chaotic. You didn’t mind, though, because you could feel a knot in your lower abdomen forming already and you were close yourself.

“I’m gonna be your wife. I’m gonna be Mrs. Cross, baby,” you were whispering promises mindlessly, knowing it would bring him closer and it seemed to be working for you, too.

You moved one of your hands down to between your legs to rub on your clit but Benny realised what you were doing so he took one of his hands away from your hip and pushed your hand away to take the lead instead. His fingers found your swollen and achy clit quickly before rubbing circles on it and making you let out choked out sobs as tears of pleasure streamed down your cheeks.

You came with a loud cry of his name, arching your back and throwing your head back while your eyes shut close and your walls clenched around his cock. He came right after you, filling you up with a few grunts and chaotic thrusts.

You gave yourselves a short moment to come off of your highs. You waited for your heartbeat and breath to go back to normal before you relaxed your muscles and fluttered your eyes open to look down at Benny’s fucked out face.

“You look like a mess,” you chuckled in a raspy voice and caressed his face before fixing his ruffled hair.

“So do you, doll,” Benny winked and helped you to get off of his lap, letting his softening cock to slip out of you with a hiss. You felt his cum mixed with your juices leaking down your thigh but you didn’t mind and you just pulled your panties back into their place.

While moving back to the passenger seat, you reached to the backseat for your bra. You put it back on and buttoned your dress back up before fixing your hair nonchalantly with your hand in the mirror of Johnny’s car.

Benny wiped the sweat off of his face with the palm of his hand before pulling his boxer shorts back up and zipping his jeans. He got out of the car and lit himself a cigarette as he leaned on the hood of the car. You gave him a short moment of silence and peace before getting out of the car as well and sitting on the hood next to him. You didn’t say anything, you only put your head on Benny’s shoulder and you stared at the stars above with a loud sigh.

“Did you mean that?” He asked, eventually. There was lots of insecurity in his voice and it was unusual for Benny to feel this way.

“That I’m gonna marry you?” You asked and he nodded after a while of hesitation. “Yeah, why not? I only said no back then because it was our second date. Not because you ain’t no good enough for me, you know?” You looked up and caressed his hair gently.

Benny turned his head around slowly to meet your loving gaze.

“You know, I don’t like all those things Johnny’s askin’ me to do for him these days,” Benny confessed and you furrowed your brows. “I might not ride with the club anymore after all, I dunno yet,” he shrugged his arms. “I been thinkin’ maybe we could go to California after all. Or Florida. Or wherever you want, baby, really, I don’t care. I just wanna be with you, yeah?” Benny joined your foreheads together and you grinned at him.

“Yeah, Benny, I want the same,” you assured him. “Let’s get out of this place, we’re starting to waste here and we deserve so much more.”

“You surely do,” Benny chuckled and pecked your lips before moving his head away to take a drag of his cigarette.

You squeezed his arm tighter and chuckled sadly at his words before leaning to kiss his cheek lovingly.

“So do you, Benny. I’m gonna make you see that one day, baby,” you promised. “But until then, you just gotta believe me when I say that. You’re one of a kind.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[snootlestheangel]

Royal Ghoap AU idea

Soap grows up as Prince, his family is royalty blah blah blah

Simon Riley is in the poor part of the city, which under Soap's father's rule, becomes the recruitment for Knights. It's a program designed to take the youth and prevent them from falling into criminal traps and becoming responsible people. It helps the families. Simon is recruited at a much younger age than most with the intention that he grows up alongside the only son of the King (ie Soap)

He and Soap grow up together, slowly falling in love by the time Simon is a full fledged Knight and they're adults.

Roba is the leader of a gang of criminals that burn the part of the city where Simon is from. The Riley family dies in the fire, and it is presumed that so does Simon, because he had fled the safety of the castle to save his family.

While in the castle before all of this, he had been courting Soap, only for Soap to express concerns that if they let their relationship develop into something more, that the people would say things. Basically Soap rejects Simon's physical advances (cock blocked)

Soap: I'm afraid of what they'll say of you, mo chridhe

Simon: let them talk, so long as I have you, nothing can harm me.

Soap lives for several years thinking that he could have had Simon and yet threw it all away.

Eventually his parents are mysteriously assassinated, and he, along with the King's Guards Price and Gaz, travel far as they follow a series of clues that will lead them to the assassin.

Along the way, they encounter The Ghost, a famed assassin with over a hundred assassinations credited to his name. Ghost is believed to have served under Roba.

There are two major ways I want to approach this.

The first way:

He reveals Roba is behind Soap's parents' assassinations, and tells them his plans to murder Roba himself. Price warns Soap not to trust him, but Soap can't help but feel the phantom is familiar.

One night, slipping away from the watchful eyes of Price and Gaz, Ghost enters Soap's private tent

They have a conversation where Ghost basically begs for forgiveness and Soap is confused and then he drops it, only for Soap to ask him if they know each other. Ghost doesn't directly respond, but Soap thinks it means he's uncomfortable because they don't. However, Simon quickly says "you look good as King, Johnny" not long after Soap falls quiet

Soap turns and then whispers his name. Begs him to take the mask off, asking how Roba has hurt him, etc. Simon eventually takes it off to reveal a very scarred face. Soap touches his face and the scars with tears in his eyes. Simon thinks it's because he's now ugly or not worthy of Soap's love anymore. But Soap finds him still as loveable as ever.

"I see scars. Which means you survived, and you healed, and you live to fight another day. Which means you're here, you're alive, and I finally have another chance to keep you."

"Will you let me have you? Even if just for tonight?"

"Of course. Only if you'll let me have you."

"I trust no other soul."

They get together (obviously) and then Idk where to go from here

The second way:

Soap catches word that Roba has been finally captured in a neighboring kingdom, so he brings Price and Gaz with him. The king of this place is Alejandro, with his partner Rudy, and they are joined by Shadow Company who captured Roba.

They are in the royal hall when Ghost manages to kill his way inside, where he uses his weapons to hold Rudy hostage.

His weapons in question are bladed: two large scythes that can cut from both sides (within the curve and outside), making them versatile and intimidating. Truly a character of Death

Alejandro makes a trade: Roba for Rudy. Everyone expects Ghost to leave with Roba, but instead he attacks him and kills him, kneeling back once the deed is done.

Alejandro asks "if you were not loyal to Roba, then who do you pledge to?" Because it's commonly accepted that assassins aren't solo: they have someone that pays them and provides what they need. Ghost stands, slowly makes his way towards Soap, and raises his weapons.

He proceeds to immediately drop them and uses the Royal Guard salute to show his loyalty to Soap. The salute is used in private by Knights/Guards to the crown/royal family. Only Soap, Gaz, and Price would know this, everyone else would be confused as to what that means.

Graves and a couple Shadows quickly attack Ghost and take him into custody. He keeps eye contact with Soap the entire time, Soap is shitting his pants cause how the fuck does THE GHOST know the private salute????? And why would he say he's loyal to me??? What the fuck???????

While Soap is freaking out, the others are trying to figure out Ghost's plans and blah blah blah. He's not giving anything away.

But Soap suddenly appears, saying that he should ask the questions privately because Ghost pledged his loyalty to him. They're upset Soap is in the room, to which Price, out of breath just goes "he's slippery"

They agree and let Soap "interrogate" Ghost.

Soap asks how he knew the salute. Ghost doesn't answer.

Soap asks why he suddenly pledged loyalty to him.

"To save yourself?"

"No."

"No?"

"Cannot suddenly pledge to something you are already pledged to."

Soap is now confused and he's starting to get a weird feeling. He can't think of something to say, he's so confused. Ghost begins to look at him with the saddest, most emotional look he can despite the mask.

"You look good as King, Johnny."

Don't know where to go with this one as well but I'm definitely partial to the second way.

Anyways what y'all think?

[losersimonriley]

the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out

Simon and Johnny die. And then they wake up.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/John "Soap" MacTavish

tags: major character death, but they're both ghosts, afterlife, these two are so in love in every version of themselves, actually quite sweet despite how it sounds

word count: 1252

warnings for descriptions of decomposing human bodies

There is nothing left but the two of them.

No missions, no worldly travelling, no deadlines and commitments. No war and no enemy. No bureaucratic nonsense, no rules. Only endless time.

There is no plot to follow anymore.

He's dead. They're both dead.

He's just waiting for Johnny to wake up.

Time is different here—expansive and condensed, depending on which way he looks at it.

Johnny just needs to wake up. Simon has been lying by his side for so long now—or not so long at all. The wildflowers have turned brown and droopy, the willow tree has gone bright orange. It sways in the crisp wind, and grey clouds swirl.

They died in an embrace. Simon's arm is pillowed beneath Johnny's head, Johnny's rotted hand is falling into Simon's rotted cheek. Their faces are turned toward each other, so close, as if they'd been about to kiss right before the reaper took them.

Their bodies have gone past rigor mortis and bloating and purging. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out. He can look on and chuckle as a maggot falls from his body's open mouth onto the dead grass beneath them. There is a particularly territorial fly situated over Johnny's chest. Anytime another creature comes too close to its treasure, it buzzes them right off. At least he's got free entertainment until Johnny comes to.

He feels so light after all this time.

In another year, green grass and blooming flowers will cover the spot where they lay. The ecosystem will work them into its space in whatever way it sees fit. Simon and Johnny will be long gone away from here.

They'll go find Price and Gaz probably, just as soon as Johnny settles into his new incorporeal form. It was…a lot to process by himself, being the first to wake. He hadn't understood it at first: looking on at his own dead body as if from a third person perspective. Being able to sit up, get up and walk around their perfectly picturesque autumn hillside. No graves, no cremation or burial, no marker.

He doesn't quite remember how they got here. He's hoping Fly Food here next to him has some idea on that part. If not, they'll figure it out from Price and Gaz. He hopes they're back at base, because that's where they'll look first. It'd be just like the two fuckers to send them on a wild good chase around the world, just trying to find them to figure out what happened.

Leaves fall around them.

He hums a tune stuck in his head—one he thinks he's heard Soap sing before.

Leaves pile up, and the temperature drops. Funny how he can still feel the chill in the air. He thinks he might be the chill in the air.

Another blink, another rustle of leaves, and Johnny is sitting up from his body. It's not like how he came up from his own—Simon's awakening was violent, like shooting up from a nightmare, breathless and heart hammering. Johnny blinks awake slow and sweet, stretching his arms like he's just had the best nap of his life. Bastard.

It's a holy experience to see him like this again. Lively. Not decomposed.

Johnny grins at him. "Mornin', beautiful."

"Fuckin' finally."

Like magnets, like it's the most natural thing in the whole of the universe, like they've done it all their lives—their lips meet in warmth.

Johnny holds both hands on his cheeks, preventing Simon from moving, even if he wanted to. Simon holds the back of Johnny's head, short hair of his mohawk threaded between his fingers.

"Been waitin' to do that for forever," Johnny says against his mouth, foreheads resting together.

"Why didn't you, then?"

Soap makes a point to look at the corpses beside them, forever trapped in a lover's embrace. "Uh—reckon, I might have tried."

Simon kisses him again.

If he had to liken it to one thing, it would be falling into the sun. He's dead, but he's burning alive.

Johnny doesn't remember anything. Not actually a big surprise there. Just…he'd been hoping they could just relax and enjoy their afterlife, instead of going on a journey to solve a whole-arse mystery.

The fun thing about being dead is none of the living can see them.

The annoying thing about being dead is all the other dead people can see them.

And there are a lot of fucking dead people on this Earth.

He thought the train was crowded before? He had no idea what crowded truly meant until now; they're squished tighter than sardines in this thing. He's sitting inside another person—at not in the sexy way.

It a Living, and he's fairly sure he's giving her cold chills.

Soap is far too amused by it all, talking to other dead people. Ghosts, Soap has deemed them all. Much to his own unamusement. He's got a feeling this afterlife is going to be as long-suffering as his living-life was. Just in a different, more absolutely perfect way.

What Johnny's gleaned from his conversations so far seems to be that nobody remembers how or why they die. That's something every person has to figure out by themselves. If they want to. No rules, and all.

He'd foolishly thought death might mean a break from lessons learned and deep thoughts. Apparently not.

Some dead fuck accidentally elbows his ribs. Why are there so many ghosts on the line to fucking Hereford? Is there really that much of a hankering for the mediocre fish bar, or are they all simply travelled everywhere else in the world and a Herefordshire autumn is the last place on all of their lists?

Can they even eat? He'll have to have Johnny ask someone before they make arses of themselves in public.

A quick glance around spots his target, his other half, sitting inside a sleeping old man while talking to another old man ghost. The geezer looks all too happy to explain whatever Johnny is animatedly asking about.

Despite the crowd of lifeless fuckers, he's really never felt more alive.

He rather wishes he could've told his living self it would all be okay in the end. Because there is no end. There's Simon and Johnny, and a train, and questions to answer, and an endless amount of time to figure everything out.

Johnny catches his eye from across the aisle, and there's that mad, signature grin. He says something to the man while nodding in Simon's direction before getting up and making his way back over beside him. Then the old man grins at him. A blush creeps its way up his neck onto his cheeks. So that can still happen.

Soap sits inside the other lady next to his own.

"That's Reginold. Reggie," Soap informs.

He quirks an eyebrow. Alright?

"He died in eighteen-forty-three."

"Condolences," he says dryly.

Johnny leans in close. "An' he thinks you're just a braw gentleman."

The blush rises to his ears, and he risks a side-glace at Reggie.

"But I told him ye were taken."

Johnny kisses him there, slowly and deeply, in the middle of the train. With everyone watching.

And it's okay. It doesn't matter who sees. They're already fucking dead. All of them.

He'd like to go back to visit their bodies someday. Maybe they can bring flowers, fix up a marker, so the living world knows they were there.

Johnny and Simon, dead and gone, still here, forevermore.

[aetherghouls]

I personally believe that Simon's gods awful father would use religious guilt and religion in general against young Simon.

The same man that doesn't care for any god, that breaks all the commandments and laughs at Simon for even believing; he'd absolutely weaponize the very religion Simon's mother, Tommy and himself use as an escape.

It's not like Simon has ever been very religious in the first place, but their local church was a respite from his father and it was something. His mother had been taking him and Tommy there every week, sometimes more often, because it was the only real place where they could be a family without him.

Don't get me wrong though, Simon as a child? He absolutely did believe, he prayed every damn day, begging God to save them, so they wouldn't have to suffer by his father's hand any longer, because they all did. Their life was a living hell and gods, did they suffer.

The older Simon gets, though? The longer his father uses his own religion against him and his family? The longer he says things along the lines of "what would your god say, kid? Disobeying your father? You listen to me and do as I say, isn't that what your God would want from you? Isn't that what they preach in this church of yours?"

It's either threatening the rest of the family because Simon is the oldest child and he feels protective over the rest of them or using the church against him. Two ways to get him to obey and don't say a fucking word, because Simon wants to be a good son for his mother, he doesn't want to be like his father and he needs to protect them.

Because other than fear, this man had nothing to hold Simon by. He is Simon's father by blood, but nothing else and Simon Riley had known that since he was old enough to comprehend what was going on around him.

So the older Simon gets, the more he just cannot stand anything about the religion because why is it constructed in a way that allows abusers to use it against their victims? And why doesn't God hear them out? He has been praying every single day, begging for it to get better, for a life that isn't just a constant suffering, yet it never comes.

Why does a god who's supposed to love His creations just leaves them to suffer this fate?

By the time he joins the army, he is not a believer anymore.

He prays one more time in his life though, the day when he tries to get back to his home before them, to make sure his family is safe. He hadn't prayed even once when he was in Mexico, when Roba had him, never did pray for his own salvation after he stopped praying for his father to be gone. But them? His brother, sister in law, nephew and mother? He prays for them to be fine, because that's the only and last thing he cares about in this world, even his own life doesn't hold any meaning anymore. He's here to make sure they are safe.

And God fails him one last time that day, for Simon Riley never has a real reason to turn to Him ever again.

Because he doesn't trust that God could keep Johnny safe, because all God did so far was disappoint him, fail him and those he loved.

And to be fair, he's afraid. That if he even thinks about praying ever again, he will lose Johnny too, the same way he lost his family; because the catholic God is cruel.

Also catholic guilt this catholic guilt that, Simon never feels guilty for killing, not in the way catholic guilt eats away at someone; God doesn't care about any suffering, so He cannot care if people kill one another, that's not where the catholic guilt comes in

It's Johnny. It's always Johnny.

Because for the first days, weeks, months, it feels wrong.

It had with any other man ever before that, but it's always passed with them. A temptation that didn't last for too long, the priest's and his father's words ringing in his ears whenever he even considered anything like that. But John MacTavish? It doesn't pass. It's always present, God, it gets stronger every fucking day he has to work with Johnny, so when they are in Las Almas and Graves betrays them, while he doesn't know where and how Johnny is? Before they meet up again? Simon has enough time waiting to realise that it's not just an infatuation that can pass as soon as it comes, because he's in love and he doesn't know what to do, because the wave of guilt that overcomes him, guilt caused by the very God who took away everything from him, it's nauseating, makes him feel small in a way nothing has since he got out from his father's claws. He has to take a moment to just breathe and pull himself back together, otherwise he would fail; fail the mission, himself, Price, Los Vaqueros, but most importantly, he'd fail Johnny.

And that, he cannot allow himself to do.

hello hello I am heavily projecting my own religious trauma onto Simon Riley in this one 🫶

as if bro didn't have enough trauma of his own lmao. Please don't eat me it came to me in a dream last night (not really in a dream) and after I made my friends suffer I came to a conclusion that I need to make more people suffer 🫡 bye

also I may or may not be cooking the other side of this for Soap haha (aka how I personally think Johnny sees religion)

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Eleven*

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.6k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, unprotected PinV, fingering, praise, size difference, biting, marking, Tali being a tease, Johnny's dirty talk

Johnny passes his fitness test

"So, how's the apartment hunting going?" Winnie asks, her upper body in the frame of our FaceTime call. She looks even tanner than usual, practically glowing as she beams at me.

She hasn't got long left to go on her work trip now and - after a particularly promising flat viewing last week - me and the boys might not be living in our apartment for much longer. We've finally found a place that works for all of us - the perfect mix of homey and industrial, with two bathrooms, a huge master bedroom with a walk-in closet, and a decent-sized spare room. And - as an added bonus - it's only a twenty-minute walk from here.

I gush to her about the place; about the giant, warehouse-style windows in the open-plan living room, and my interior design ideas. She listens eagerly, her smile only growing brighter and brighter until I stop and ask, "What?"

There's a pause as she shifts, getting comfortable on her hotel bed in Paris. Braids falling over one shoulder, her dark, wise eyes find mine through the screen, twinkling with an amused light. "You seem genuinely happy, Tali. It suits you." She tilts her head slightly, adding, "When I get home, we all need to go out for dinner and drinks. I get the feeling I should start getting used to these guys being around."

I laugh at that. "I think you should too. They aren't going anywhere any time soon."

We talk a bit more - exchanging I miss you's and stories about some of the other things that we've been up to in the past week - before I hear the sound of the front door opening and closing with a soft thud. The "honey, I'm home!" that follows is enough to tell me that Johnny is back in the building.

"I'll call you in the morning, yeah?" I say, heat flooding the tips of my ears as I flash Winnie a bashful smile.

She grins back. "Sure thing. Goodnight, babe."

The call is barely over before Johnny comes crashing into the bedroom, a huge smile on his face. "Simon called. He's gonnae pick up take-out from that little Italian place you like on his way home."

I switch my phone screen off and let it fall on top of the sheets beside me. Twisting so that I'm laying on my back, propped up on my elbows with my legs dangling off the edge of the bed, I catch onto what he hasn't mentioned.

Simon had to go into one of their offices today for a meeting with John, Gaz, and their colleague Kate; something that he couldn't avoid no matter how much he wanted to. It's looking more and more likely that they're going to have to go on another mission soon. And Johnny - well, Johnny had a doctor's appointment to assess his recovery.

To assess whether or not he was deemed fit enough to go along with them.

I hum, feigning nonchalance for a second before asking, "How did the appointment go?"

Just like that, the care-free smile on Johnny's face fades. He clears his throat, shifting his weight between his feet like a child afraid of getting a telling off. There's no hint of an injury in his stance now - not like there was when he first moved in. He doesn't favour one side anymore; doesn't have any trouble standing up, or lying down, or reaching for things.

He's better. He's healed.

And it's good news.

Or at least it should be.

"I, er- well, Doc reckons 'm good to go back to active duty," he says with a grimace. One hand reaches for the nape of his neck, tugging at the longer strands of his mohawk. He's self-soothing, and there's nothing I want more than to comfort him, but I let him finish. "Was gonnae tell you and Si tonight over dinner. Didn't wanna ruin a good day."

An invisible hand reaches through my ribs, fingers curling around my heart and squeezing like a vice. Panic, fear, worry; the emotions whirl through me like a storm gale, threatening to sweep me away with their intensity.

Instead of letting myself feel it, I swallow it down.

Pursing my lips, I meet Johnny's baby blue gaze. "It's okay. It'll all be okay."

He sits down beside me with a heavy thump, gaze trained on the wall in front of us. Refusing to hold my gaze, he sighs deeply. "Tali, nothin' about this is okay. This wasn't meant t' happen until we got the new place sorted out. Now... 'ah could be called away at a moment's notice. Simon too. Wouldn't have a say in the matter. Ye would be alone for God knows how long, waitin' for us without word. Worried sick.

"Ye don't know what it's like. I've been though this with Si before - it's not fun, lassie. It's gonnae hurt."

I sit upright, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed until I'm sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him. I wrap an arm around his side, leaning into his warmth.

His body is tense to the touch, but his soft t-shirt smells like his aftershave - clean and familiar. Like home.

I press a gentle kiss to his shoulder blade, my words muffled against the fabric and muscle as I speak. "We'll get through this, Johnny. It'll be okay."

Some of the tension leaves at that, his considerable frame sagging further against me. With a shaky exhale, I almost miss the whispered, "'ah don't wanna leave ye, Tali," that follows.

My heart breaks for him.

The only thing that I can think to say is, "I know."

Neither of us speak for a while after that. I just hold him while he stares off into space, gaze trained simultaneously on the wall and some far-away place that neither of us can see. And it's all I can do not to burst into tears myself.

Before long, Johnny pulls me into his lap, burying his face into my hair and nuzzling his nose against the side of my neck. It takes me a second to register the soft, lazy kisses that he's pressing there - trailing up my jaw and behind my ear.

"Johnny," I mumble, tilting my head to give him access to the delicate, sensitive skin there.

He grunts in acknowledgment.

I repeat his name, firmer this time. It takes him a moment, but he draws back enough for me to look at his face. With one hand on his broad chest, I say, "Are you sure you want to do this right now?"

Johnny grins lazily, the picture of care-free ease despite the tense line of his jaw. "Lassie, there's nothin' else ah'd rather be doing right now."

I lift a hand to cradle his cheek, relishing the rough bite of his stubble against my palm as he melts into my touch. The trust and affection lurking in his gaze is enough to choke me up; to bring a rush of answering emotion inside of me. Pressing my forehead to his, I stare into his eyes, palm trailing down the side of his throat to rest atop his broad shoulder.

"Johnny... I know it's soon but-"

He cuts me off by tangling a hand in my hair, pulling my lips down to meet his. I sink my teeth into the bottom one, pulling a deep, throaty chuckle from him.

"Ay, vicious little thing!" Johnny's hand comes down against my backside in a playful smack, the flat of his hand immediately soothing the sting with a gentle caress of his calloused palm. "Tha's my lassie."

I bite back a whine, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I shift myself until I'm straddling his lap, thighs bracketing his. His eyes darken as I get comfortable, purposefully rubbing against him as much as possible. I can feel the considerable length of him straining against the fabric of his gym shorts, the short skirt of my sundress doing little to shield me from the fact.

"Johnny?" I gasp, wide-eyed with feigned innocence.

Through gritted teeth, he growls, "Aye."

Leaning close, I press an open-mouthed kiss to his temple. "I'm not wearing any underwear."

If I wasn't turned on before, the look of pure, raw heat on his face takes me the rest of the way. With a sound verging on animalistic, Johnny flips us so that I'm on my back, his weight resting on the mattress between my spread thighs as he towers over me, caging me beneath him. It's far from menacing though; sending a thrill of anticipation through me.

Those blue eyes of his glitter with the thrill of the chase, gaze never leaving mine as one hand shifts to paw at the hem of my dress. With a slight dip of my head, his eyes drift south, fingers tugging the skirt up until its bunched up around my waist. His fingers trail back down the bare skin, goosebumps rising in their wake.

Pressing a trail of sloppy kisses to my neck, he licks over the hollow at the base of my throat. His mouth distracts me while his index finger circles my clit. He does it once, then twice, before finally skimming down to where I really need them. A rumbling sound leaves his chest when he finds just how wet I am for him.

He eases his fingers out of me with a mumbled praise.

"Don't be mean," I whine, arching my hips up towards him. "Just make me feel good."

Johnny scoffs something that sounds remarkably like "pillow princess" before pulling away. My gaze follows him as he frantically tugs down his gym shorts and boxers, his thick cock springing up - ready and waiting.

I don't laugh at the tattoo this time, instead running my thumb over it.

Practically purring, Johnny's hand wraps around my wrist, guiding his hand down to touch him. My fingers close around his length, relishing in the hiss that leaves his lips. His eyes find mine once again as he whimpers, "See, Tali. All of this is for you. Feel how fuckin' hard ye make me."

He thrusts into my hand to punctuate his point.

A breathy moan wrestles free from my throat. "Johnny- Johnny, I need you."

The strong column of his throat works as he swallows, seemingly nodding to himself before easing back down on top of me. Lining up, he places his free hand beside my head, balancing his weight as he notches himself at my entrance.

I savour the slow, delicious drag as he pushes into me, muttering soft praises under his breath as his face drops down beside mine. His dark hair tickles my cheek as he flexes his hips, slowly easing out before pushing himself in to the hilt. The movement punches the air out of my lungs in a sharp gasp.

"'ah loved watching Si eat you out," Johnny growls, low and guttural as he eases out again before slamming home. It suddenly occurs to me that he's no novice at dirty talk. In fact, he excels at it. "Loved watching you watch us." He twists his hips without warning, hitting a spot deep inside of me that sends me reeling - seeing stars as my eyes roll back. "But nothin' compares to being right here."

I cling to him like he's a lifeline, clawing at the tanned skin of his broad back and lifting my legs to wrap them around his tapered waist. I pull him close, gathering him to me as he picks up the pace like it's a challenge, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

Barrelling towards a release, I nuzzle my nose into his skin - inhaling the scent of his aftershave mixed with a hint of sweat - and bite down. Hard.

As I come, vaguely aware of the coppery taste now coating my tongue, Johnny roars. His hips stutter, a flood of warmth filling me as he finds his own high. I lose all sense of myself, vaguely aware of his weight pressing me into the mattress; muttered praises and apologies for not lasting very long.

Basking in the afterglow, he collapses on top of me, neither of us willing or able to move for a few long moments.

"That was... wow," Johnny says eventually, breathless and sweating.

"Intense?" I supply, still clinging to him like a koala bear. Banding his arms around me, he rolls us until he's on his back, my weight settling on top of him. He still hasn't pulled out - letting me enjoy the moment just a little while longer.

I have to remind myself that Simon will be home any minute now with dinner; stopping myself from getting amped up for round two.

Surrounded by him, I run my fingertips along the ridge of his shoulder, provoking the shiver that I was looking for with ease. But the smile on my face cracks as soon as I draw my hand back.

My fingertips are smeared with red.

I jerk upright, Johnny's softening cock slipping out with a wince from him. The post-orgasm haze leaves me just as abruptly as I lean over him, inspecting the damage. Sure enough, there are two rows of shallow teeth indents in the tanned skin of his shoulder, deep enough to draw a steady trickle of blood.

I pull back, grimacing.

"Ay, none of that!" Johnny declares, eyes glittering once again. "Did something for me, tha' did." Heat floods my cheeks as a roguish grin forms on his full lips. "Think we might need to tell Si about that little trick."

My eyes trail down, focusing on the tattoo along his V-line as I straddle his tapered hips. He returns the favour, stroking a bare sliver of skin along my own hip. With a contemplative hum, he suggests, "Ye should get a tattoo there. Ours."

It takes all my strength not to grind down against the bare length of him here and now. The primal urge to take and claim ghosts over me; the urge to have their handwriting marked permanently on such an intimate part of my body.

"Now that's an idea." I lean down to press a kiss to his lips. "In your handwriting?"

A devilish glint sparks up in his eyes, but he bites back on it, tapping me once on the thigh. "We should get cleaned up before Si gets home. Come on, little menace: shower."

An hour later, the three of us are lounging in the living room, eating Italian out of the cardboard box-trays that it was packed in. The results of Johnny's fitness test and doctor's exam were the first thing Simon asked about upon his return - his reaction something between disappointment and bitter acceptance - followed shortly by quizzing Johnny about the fresh bite mark on his shoulder. He'd only had to glance at me - guilty, dishevelled, and shifting my thighs in an attempt to ease the hollow ache between my legs - before his eyes darkened with lustful understanding.

I let myself fade into the background, listening to the quiet noise of the TV and the boys trading bits of work gossip - mentioning names of people I've never met and scandalous titbits I've never heard before.

Until something snags my attention.

"Kate said we have to go, Si," Johnny says sullenly. "'s not like it's waterboarding or anything. It's a fuckin' military ball for Christ's sake!"

Simon grumbles something under his breath, a string of curses punctuated by the odd coherent word. It ends in, "being paraded about like a fuckin' show pony."

"Surely it's not that bad," I say incredulously. A catered party with booze, decent food, and dancing - it sounds quite fun. I think Alex mentioned one once, back in his early days as an Officer.

Johnny beams. "See! Tali gets it. We should all go. Price and Gaz are going - we could make a night out of it."

Something sours in Simon's expression. "Hm, and how would that work out exactly? Who gets to go with Tali?"

I can't help but frown. He's right; I can only formally attend with one of them, especially around their colleagues and higher-ups. How else would we explain what's going on between the three of us? Hell, Johnny and Si aren't even out at work.

"We'll think of something," Johnny says, ever the optimist. "Besides, 's not for a few weeks yet. Think that new op'll happen first."

Simon grunts, finishing off the last few bites of his linguine. "Speaking of, I'm gonna reach out to that guy about the flat tomorrow. See if we can close on it as soon as possible." Hazel eyes meet mine. "Provided that's still what you want, love?"

I flash him a sweet grin. "Of course it is."

a/n: it took time, but we did it! hope you liked part 11. what do you want next, part 12 of this, part 2 of Unlikely Friendships or... something new? :) - lapetitelapin <3

[lavender-romancer]

Deceiver

Part Seven Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

As you stirred awake you looked up, there were a considerable amount of cobwebs on the support beam running through the center of your room. Their delicate intricacies were illuminated by a stream of morning sunlight through your curtains. It was so beautiful but your mood this morning just made you want to dust it all away. Today was Cheltenham.

One comfort of this awful day was that you could take some aggression out on some Lee boys, whilst Tommy would be prancing around with Grace doing fuck knows what. No, you had to try and control your anger on the subject. It wasn't worth all your thoughts and anyways you had to meet Arthur, John and Johnny.

"Eddie," Arthur yelled, getting your attention in the dockyard, "What's our mission?"

"To fucking stick it to the Lee boys!" You announced with a smirk towards John.

"That's right. The Lees are skimming money off legal bookies. Running chalk, selling rafflers, beating up bookies. But today, we're going to stop them." Arthur raised his stick, "Anyone with a gun, we won't be using it unless it's pulled on you. Take what you have, whatever it is. Let's fuck up the Lee boys, lads!"

You all loaded into a van, with you, Arthur and John in the front. It was 60 miles to Cheltenham and no matter how much you talked to the boys, all you could think about was Tommy and Grace in a car together. No matter how much Arthur hammered the point of this being 'Tommys Army' you struggled to get excited when you knew you wanted to be the pretty blonde girl dancing with him in a nice new outfit. Not that you'd want to wear a dress but-fuck- you were so insanely jealous of the barmaid you didn't know what to do with yourself.

Even when Tommy reassured you that there was nothing between him and Grace, all you could see was them kissing in the light of the bar when you opened the room to the booth. How did you get here? Obsessed with a man who couldn't or wouldn't commit to you, you were more likely to grow old with Thomas as his friend or mistress.

Looking out of the window the shouting coming from the boys faded into white noise. Closing your eyes you saw Tommy's smile. You didn't want to be his friend, you didn't want to wait forever but you knew he should be with her because you couldn't compete. It wasn't as if you could blame Grace for it all anymore, she was a convenient scapegoat but not one that made sense. There was something between Tommy and Grace that he wouldn't admit to you, and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything new, you often had to separate your life and the possibility of love.

Love doesn't last the way respect and job security do, it can be fickle and easily betrayed which were eventualities you couldn't afford. You were used to being alone, but you weren't used to being as vulnerable as you would be if you ever lived your life as a woman.

Tommy was dancing with Grace, their bodies close and moving in time with one another. He did keep looking over at Kimber's table but couldn't help but feel Grace's body against his. She was an easy choice, a safe one. There were no complications he knew of, she was beautiful and wanted him. But you. He dreamt of you. He had to stop himself from seeing you every single night. There was such an undeniable magnetism between the two of you that Tommy struggled to justify considering choosing Grace over you. There were complications but who gave a fuck about that?

He dipped Grace in the choreography of the lively dance and she smiled, it was so ridiculously beautiful. Tommy couldn't help but smile slightly back, pulling her back up. She laughed softly and Tommy bowed his head so he wouldn't laugh in return. There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, wanted to fuck her and move on from there. He craved immediate gratification and Tommy couldn't seem to let you give that to him. The lust feeling was intoxicating, being able to look you up and down but knowing he wouldn't take it any further. Even when he was drunk he only kissed your hand, it was pathetic. But Tommy wanted you to understand how deeply he cared for you, that he didn't want to just fuck you and leave it at that. But Tommy failed to explain this to you and it led to a horrific case of crossed wires.

You'd got the stolen money off all Lees boys by this point chased them off the track and down to Devon road, they were long gone, some by persuasion, most by force…. But realistically it came with the territory of a blinder, cut off an ear here, punch someone in the face there. It would be on the job description.

"We need to get this all back to Tommy." Arthur said, holding the 7 napsacks over his shoulder as you, him and John stood under a stairwell and smoked.

"I'll take it." You said all too quickly and the brothers snickered.

"Someone wants to see his man." John smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't get too jealous of Grace." Arthur couldn't stifle his laughter as he handed the napsack to you, the two of them keeling over laughing with jokes about you and Tommy. You just snatched the bags and walked up the stairwell to the agreed meeting point.

Seeing Tommy poke his head around the door and smile at you sent a warm feeling around your whole body. It only seemed to dissipate when you saw Grace, you dropped the bags at his feet and glanced at her before going back to Tommy.

"Any problems?" Tommy asked, looking you up and down without letting Grace see.

"None. We got it all back and ran the Lee boys off the tracks. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major." You smiled at him and the two of you took a moment, just looking at one another lovingly before snapping out of it.

"Get Arthur to buy all the boys a pint, I'll see you later." He gave you a smirk before you shut the door.

Standing on the other side of the door, you almost jumped up and down from the way he looked at you. The man looked like he wanted to rip everything off you and take you right then and there. It was impossible to forget, even when you were sitting back in the Garrison a few hours later. Every so often you'd take a sip of your beer, but mostly you stared into space and thought of his eyes.

"Now, should I guess who you're daydreaming about or just come out and say it?" John laughed and sat next to you at the bar.

"You can keep your mouth shut," you smiled, "What do you think of Grace?" You asked after a pause.

"Great set of legs." John raised an eyebrow.

"No, idiot. I mean, she doesn't seem suspicious to you, comes out of nowhere trying to help with the business and now she's working for us all because she's a liar? Seems odd." You shrugged.

"Think you're just being paranoid and a little bit jealous. Personally I don't think she really does much, has no excitement in her life, this gives her some shit to do." John took a drink of his pint and lit a cigarette.

"When she is finally found out for being a deceiver, we'll only have men and their cocks to thank." You said, exasperated with John. How he could immediately assume you were jealous without a second thought. "If you didn't know I was a woman would you still question me like this or just take it at face value?" You said close to his ear before walking out of the door.

You were sick of the teasing, you had tried to tell yourself that they didn't treat you differently but it wasn't true. They just saw you as some sort of scorned woman, who wasn't capable of thinking straight. You weren't being jealous. Were you? No, she was suspicious and it didn't make sense that she came out of nowhere. Walking in the chill of night your chest heaved, what could she and Tommy possibly be doing? Was it all fooling him as well? Your brain felt so foggy it was impossible to think straight, all you wanted was to get home.

Tommy was sitting on the doorstep in front of your house and in the moment you just wanted to run up and kiss him. His face was so beautifully lit by the moonlight, with a slight smile on his lips he looked so pretty. But, instead you walked past him and unlocked your front door, leaving it ajar for him. You walked straight up to your room to unbind your chest, it had been an extremely long day.

After changing into a looser fitting men shirt you went back downstairs and found Tommy with two glasses of whisky in hand sitting on the settee. You gratefully sat down next to him and took the glass, whilst the whisky you owned was a shocking quality it still took the edge off more than a pint.

"How did today go?" He asked you.

"We got all the money, if that's what you mean." You directed a polite slightly unfeeling smile in his direction, our head felt like it was going to burst open with anger because of how John had spoken to you. "How was Grace?"

"She did her job. Looked pretty and danced with Kimber." Was all that he said, you couldn't help but assume ther was more he could say about her but didn't. You just sat holding the glass in your lap and looking down at the liquid through the crystal shapes in the glass. It was so distorted that staring at it this closely was giving you a headache. You placed the glass back on the table in front of you with a slight clink and returned to your position. Hands in your lap, looking down at them in silence because you didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right thing to say without coming off as jealous. Because regardless of what the Shelby boys said about your apparent jealousy, Tommy's connection with Grace just made you sad. You wanted the day out at the races, the hurried sexual favours in a side room, the openness in society.

At this point whilst you considered growing your hair out and stopping binding your chest, what would be the point if the person you were doing it for couldn't commit? He claimed that he would die for you but he was happy to kiss Grace, happy to fade into a silhouette of nothing as she stifled his light. He wouldn't commit to you whilst he still wanted to get his dick wet and not give you the time to be in society as a woman at your own pace. The silence was pounding in your ears, consuming your body in a cold blanket of insecurity. You could only think about how he could be normal with Grace, live a normal life. It would be boring and he might not be happy but it would be normal.

"Y/n?" Tommy said softly and you nodded in acknowledgement. "What's going on?" He asked in a confused tone.

"I just… I don't know why you're wasting your time with me. Maybe wasting is the wrong word, but you only have so long in this life and I don't know if we can give eachother what the other needs." Your eyes were hurting with the amount you were straining them so you didn't cry.

"Do you want me?” He said, making it sound so simple and you brought your eyes up to his- so much emotion and hurt was shown with this one look that Tommy felt taken aback, had he hurt you? "If you want me, then we give each other what the other needs."

"I don't want to be someone you can't commit to." You said quietly, looking back at your hands in your lap. "You're going to forget about me and marry someone without all the complications. Someone like Grace is perfect for you."

"I've told you before that Grace is not your concern." Was all he said and you couldn't help but scoff.

"Alright Tommy. You can stay to finish the bottle if you really want to, but I don't know if there's anything else for us to talk about now." You stood up and looked at him with tearful eyes. Why couldn't he understand how you felt about him, why couldn't he understand how deeply you cared for him?

"Y/n," he said in a soft tone and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from flowing.

"What else is there to say?" You asked quietly.

"Nothing happened." He paused. "Between me and Grace, since that night when you saw…" you got a horrific flashback of seeing Grace and Tommy kissing.

"But you still don't want to commit to me do you." It wasn't even really a question, more of a statement.

"Why do you assume that?" He placed his glass on the table in front of him next to yours, they were closer than the two of you felt right now.

"Because of how you act, Thomas and because I know you. You don't want a complicated personal life when your business life's complicated enough." You held your forearm with your other hand, feeling insecure in front of a Tommy that seemed more vulnerable.

"You've never asked me to commit to you, not in those words anyways." Tommy stood up and took a step towards you, your eyes were fixed on a point on the floor where the wood was cracked and splintering. "I've wanted you for years now. Ever since I met you it's been the same, there's always been something."

“If I finally live as myself I lose all independence, if you leave me after I live as a woman I won't have any agency! You don't understand how much anxiety that creates for this whole situation, it's not just about fucking feelings.” You paused and ran a hand down your face, tears forming in your eyes, “It's about the rights I have over myself, men won't treat me the same, I'll never be viewed the same by anyone. I'll never be able to walk home alone without being scared, I'll be posing as someone I've never been! I've lived this way for so long it's comfortable, and unless you can prove that you want only me then-”

“Y/n,” Tommy held your shoulders in both of his hands, “you can dress however you want, have the same job, fuck, you can get a better paid one in the company. You'll still be my right hand person regardless of how you live. I've never been able to control you and I don't intend to try and start. There has always been a part of my soul connected to yours, Y/n.” You were still looking at the splintered wood.

“How much room in your soul do you have when you desire two people?” You sounded malicious and honestly it wasn't intentional because most of what Tommy spouted sounded like lip service to get you to be complacent.

“What?” He asked, his hands falling from your shoulders.

“You heard what I said,” you walked past Tommy and sat down on the sofa, pouring yourself another poor quality whiskey. After downing two glasses your throat burned in a satisfying way that distracted you from your head.

“Why do you think I'm here? Practically begging you to give me some time.” He let out a long sigh.

“You feel the same way I feel about you about her. I know that's what is really in your soul. Even though she doesn't love you, she isn't truthful, she's so deceitful but you can't see past your hard cock long enough to realise. You fucking know I'm in love with you, I'm convinced you've known it the whole time. But it's more exciting to string two people along than commit to anyone. You can perpetuate your tortured heart narrative and everyone feels sorry for you, well I don't care anymore. Do whatever you fucking want, fuck her, fuck me. Everything's controlled by you and you love it.” You picked up the bottle of whiskey and started drinking straight from it. Leaving Tommy to stand there not knowing what to do. The two of you existed in a sort of social limbo for a few minutes before Tommy sat down next to you and you offered him the whiskey bottle.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Taglist: @kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @bat-luna-cat @emily-roberts @thattransgayscout @cristina-01 @pockeymcmockey @moonshooter @horror-eye @hiatuswhore @missmunscn @slaypussypop-21 @slutforcoffein @lovemisshoneybee @louderfortheback @faye777 @pastthetreesandstars @gimmie-tea Peaky Blinders Taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

[siriusleee]

a better year

a/n: i linked this one to ao3 a week or so ago, but i figured i'd do it now i'm procrastinating the next chapter to adamantine chains lmao this is my take on the bookstore au tags: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, cursing, signs of ptsd, , original female character, retirement from the military, bookstore au 6.7k words summary: He takes her shoes off of her while she insists she can do that herself. He slips the right one off when the fireworks go off outside; the entire town is bathed in their light. "Midnight," she says as Simon rises up on one knee in front of her, ready to tell her goodbye and good night. She kisses him over the mask. She doesn't mention it the next day.

The official order rolled in on plain white paper, an unceremonious carrier of his future. He was the first to go: a sign that the team was being unraveled slowly. After all, they're not young men anymore. 

"You'll receive your pension; it's enough that you shouldn't have to work again. And we've made sure that you have an official background. It's not much, but it's what we can do."

Laswell doesn't move her eyes from his, her fingers clutching a pen so hard her knuckles are white. 

"It's for the best Simon," she says, setting the pen down carefully on her desk, "and if it makes you feel better: everyone will be released soon. I'm sorry."

He's not dumb; he knows these things only last so long. Forced retirement is something to be celebrated - celebrated that he lived long enough to have one, celebrated that his body isn't rotting in some foreign country, a home for worms. Celebrated that the 141 made it out mostly intact. Mostly together. 

Johnny claps him on the back and promises that when Laswell brings him that paper when Johnny gets his own forced retirement, he'll come to find Simon. 

Simon doesn't stay in England - he doesn't like the way the gray settles around him. He leaves the apartment Laswell set up for him untouched, a note for Johnny for where to find him. 

He finds a small house to rent somewhere in the American Southwest, spitting distance of Alejandro's territory. It crosses his mind more than once to make the trip across the border, to see how Alejandro's doing; to see if Rudy is still scared of fantasmas . 

But he isn't a fantasma anymore; he's just Simon Riley.

And it's just Simon Riley who paces the aisles of her bookstore, trying to find something to take his mind off of the fact that he is utterly and completely bored. 

"This is the third time you've been here this month. I'm not putting you into debt am I?"

Her accent is different from everyone else's in town - still decidedly American, just not from here American. Simon ignores her, his eyes focused on the row of books in front of him. She sighs heavily, but drops it, leaving him behind to stock the end cap. Last week's murder mysteries replaced by this week's contemporary romances. 

"I need to lock up you know - I can't stay here all night." She speaks as if it's not odd that Simon only comes in on Thursday nights - the only night of the week she stays open late to rearrange the end cap displays, to vacuum the floors to perfection. 

"You haven't even cleaned the windows yet," Simon replies, pulling a fantasy book from the shelf: something about a world full of malicious fairies and a secret world beneath New York. It's something new. 

"For your information, I did that before you got here," she says, pushing herself up from the floor with a groan. "And I have a life. I can't sit here all night and wait for you to pick a random book off the shelf."

"I never said you didn't."

Simon places the book as she dips behind the counter, a lukewarm cup of coffee left beside the cash register. She drinks from it, wincing at the taste as she rings the book up.

"That'll be seventeen forty-five."

Simon gives her a twenty and she breaks the change, counting out how many pennies he's supposed to have on her fingers. 

"You going to be back next week?"

"Why?"

"I want to close early next Thursday; I need to know if my best customer is going to be here or not."

Simon doesn't speak as he takes the plastic bag from her hands. She waits for him, eyes never leaving his as she sips her coffee, waiting on him to answer. 

"I can come by Friday instead."

"I'm closed Fridays."

"What about Wednesday?"

"I can stay late Wednesday."

He leaves her with just a crinkle of the plastic bag and the chime above the door.

***

He spends too much time at the gym ignoring Johnny's text messages. Johnny tells him Price was next - swearing that he was going to retire to the countryside where he can smoke his cigars in peace. Maybe find himself a nice girl to cook him dinner every now and then.

His fingers hover over the buttons, almost messaging Price to tell him congratulations. But Simon's not sure it really is. 

He's alone at night; no one's in the gym at two in the morning. No one's there to watch the way he slams the weights down when he's done or hear the way he gasps for breath after lifting too heavy - the tear in his chest that never quite healed right burning him from the inside. 

The walk home is quick; the stars shine brighter than anything he'd ever seen in England. The closest he ever got to seeing them like this was in the Middle East, but he hardly noticed the stars then. He wasn't expecting to be left looking up.

He sits in the shower at home. He can't stand the way the water hits his skin, but can't stand the idea of sitting in the water either. So he stays huddled in the corner of the bathtub, the water barely touching him. 

Simon Riley thinks about death. 

He thinks about what would happen if he died right now. 

He thinks about what it's like to die twice. 

***

The door is locked when he comes by Wednesday; he feels foolish standing there with his hand still pulling on the door, knowing it won't open beneath his touch. Foolish to think that she would-

Foolish when his heart ticks a beat as she comes around the corner. Foolish when he steps inside just a second after she unlocks the door.

"Sorry, my last employee must have locked the door on their way out. So did you like last week's book?"

"It was alright."

The silence is almost awkward as she locks the door behind him.

"Let me know when you're ready. I just made coffee in that pot behind the counter; you can have some if you want. I shouldn't drink it all myself."

She leaves him behind to disappear into the store room. He paces the aisles aimlessly, waiting for something to jump out at him. It's quiet tonight; the music that's usually playing softly over the speakers is absent. Simon can hear her through the storeroom wall moving boxes around, the sound of a box cutter piercing the quiet every so often. 

She reappears, a box in her arms that she drops heavily onto the counter. Simon watches her over the bookshelf of non-fiction works as she pulls each book out, scans it into the computer, and stacks them on the counter 

When the box is empty, she breaks it down and leaves it on the counter. She looks up, almost catching Simon staring at her. He ducks away, taking a book on the Korean War with him. At the counter, she can barely see him over the stack of books in front of her. 

"Last week was fantasy and this week is the Korean War? You certainly have varied tastes."

Simon hands over the fifteen twenty-two he owes her, her hands linger in the distance between them. 

"Do you have a job?"

"What?"

Simon's taken aback at her candor. I used to have a job he thinks, as he pockets his change. 

"No, I don't."

"Do you want one? I need a weekend worker. It's just me on Saturdays and Sundays now my other guy quit to go to college. I can't pay you a ton, but I kind of get the feeling you don't need it."

He falters for a moment; that's all it takes. If he's being honest with himself, he misses taking orders, missing feeling useful to someone.

"I can do that." 

"Can you start this Saturday?"

"I can do that."

She's locked the door behind him before he realizes they don't even know each other's names. 

***

Her name's Billy.

"What's your name; I probably should have asked that before I hired you."

Simon doesn't answer, placing the box down slowly before he answers. It's odd, telling someone his name. His real name. 

"It's Simon. Simon Riley."

She looks him over, elbows resting on the counter. 

"What?"' He asks, uncomfortable under her x-ray analysis of him.

"Just didn't peg you for a Simon. You know with your general countenance; the mask and all that."

She doesn't ask why he has the mask on. Simon gets the feeling that she never will. 

She works him like a dog; he's moving some of the shelves around when he thinks that this is probably the reason her last employee quit. It's like being ordered around by Price again, but this time his enemy is the dust. He doesn't stop moving until well after noon; sweat gathering in the small of his back. In her office, Billy is on the phone, yelling indistinctly at the person on the other line.

He doesn't have to watch her to know she's angry when she slams the phone down. He expects her to storm out of her office, to slam the door shut behind her. But she doesn't. When she comes out she's calm.

On Sunday she shows him how the books are organized, and she has him switch around the genres.

"Romance sells best during the spring, and mystery best in the fall and winter. So we need to pull the mystery books up to this front aisle and move the romance towards the back. These shelves roll so they're easier to move."

She's meticulous; Simon moves the same shelf four times before it's lined up exactly where she wants it. His constellation prize: cash wages handed to him at the end of the day.

"No paycheck?"

Her nails tap against the counter, the white paint chipped.

"I haven't processed your paperwork yet. I can take the money back if you want."

Simon pockets it.

They lock up together. It's warm outside, but she still tugs a hoodie over herself whenever she finishes, tucking her keys into the pocket.

It's a complete coincidence that they set off in the same direction. 

Simon wants a cigarette; his fingers itch for the pack in his pocket. But she'd said earlier in the day that the smell was disgusting and she couldn't breathe whenever someone with cigarette smoke on them passed her by.

They split up two blocks away from the bookstore. She motions up to the upstairs apartment of a shitty duplex. It's not the kind of place he expected her to be in.

"This is me. I'll see you next Saturday right?"

"I'll be there."

"Good night Simon."

She doesn't wait for him to say anything; not that he would have known what to say. She's up the stairs and inside (she didn't unlock the door; he has to restrain himself from going upstairs to tell her to lock it next time) before he can think of anything to say.

He smokes a cigarette at the bottom of her stairs; watches the outline of her against the curtains in her window. A fat black cat peers down at him, peers down at the cherry of Simon's cigarette in the darkness. The street lamp is burnt out, the shadows dark. He stubs the cigarette out on the sole of his boot and throws the cigarette butt out in the street. 

He's almost certain she'd chide him for that - the same way she did a kid who had the audacity to throw a cigarette down in front of her shop. 

His apartment is extra cold when he gets home.

***

"Maybe Price has it right: a life in the countryside. A pretty girl to cook you a few meals. Maybe a dog to curl up at your feet," Johnny drones on the other end of the line. Simon doesn't answer, his focus on cutting the potatoes in front of him into meticulous cubes. Johnny doesn't need him to speak. 

"What about you L.T.? What have you been up to?"

"I'm not a lieutenant anymore Johnny."

"You'll always be L.T. to me. And don't ignore the question."

Simon drops the potatoes into a pot, waiting on the answer to unstick from the back of his throat.

"Not much. I go to the gym a lot."

He doesn't tell Johnny how he has to break his gun down and put it back together three times each night before he can sleep.

"That it?"

"I'm working at a bookstore."

"A bookstore! A few months out and you're domesticated."

"Watch it, Johnny."

A pause.

"I have to go L.T.. Gaz is yelling at me."

Their goodbye is the silence that follows. 

***

Billy's arguing with a customer when he arrives Saturday morning.

"Listen, dude, I don't care what price you want to pay. This is my business and I set the prices. If you don't like it, you're not being forced to come here."

The customer drops it when Simon steps behind the counter. 

"I hate that guy," Billy tells him as she hands him a box cutter. "He comes in every week and tries to get me to lower my prices. It's a bookstore; I'm not getting rich off of this. I can't afford that. Anyway-" 

She sweeps her hair behind her shoulders. Simon catches a hint of a tattoo behind her right ear and a glint of cold chain disappearing beneath her shirt.

"Finals are coming up for the local community college so I had two different study groups book the tables in here today. They're usually pretty good, we just have to make sure to keep the coffee pot refilled for them because they'll drink it dry. It's $5 if they want coffee - per person don't let them try to swindle us - but they can refill it as much as they want."

Her fingers tap against the counter. Her nails are blue this week.

"If they ask about selling us their textbooks, tell them to come back next week. I have a shipment of children's books coming in - you can sign for it if I'm busy. Do I need to show you how to use the cash register or can you figure it out?"

"I can figure it out."

"Ok. The code is 4532. For now, do you mind breaking down the boxes in the back room and taking them to the dumpster? It's hard for me to reach to open up the dumpster lid."

She doesn't wait for him to answer before she disappears into the back room.

This Saturday is busy. 

Simon's about to snap at a kid who won't shut up about how the comic section is too small when Billy appears beside him. 

"I'll take over here Simon. There's lunch in the back room."

He's thankful for her in that moment.

He's more thankful when the storeroom shuts behind him and locks. The table has a small bag with his name written on it. A sandwich from the deli across the street and a bottle of water inside.

There are no tomatoes on the sandwich.

Just like he always orders it.

***

He smokes a cigarette again outside her apartment. But this time he tucks the butt back into the pack. He'll throw it away at home.

***

"I want to put a coffee shop in here," Billy tells him when the store is slow. She traces the right side of the store with her fingers.

"And I want to open the shop up earlier and stay open later."

"Why don't you?" Simon asks without looking up from his task of the day: putting 'half-priced' stickers on books that aren't selling well.

"I'm not making enough money. I have just enough to pay you and my weekday employee and the overhead cost of this place, plus pay myself. There's not any extra coming in. The bank-," she pauses, red nails scraping at a piece of tape on the counter, "the bank is willing to give me a loan on the coffee shop stuff - the machines and all that - but I don't have the money for the renovations. My contractor told me he'd have to build the cabinets, open up the drywall and put an extension on our water pipe. A water filter needs to be installed. It's just - it's just a lot."

She slides the stack of books he's already put stickers on off of the counter and into her arms.

"Maybe next year."

***

The next time Johnny calls, Simon can hear the strain in his voice. 

"It's my turn L.T.. Laswell said I failed the psychological and I can't stay."

"You going to keep good on your promise to come to be my annoying neighbor Johnny."

"Not yet. I want to go home to my mom for a little bit. Maybe next year L.T.."

"Next year's going to be a big year I guess," Simon says more to himself. 

"What's that L.T.?"

"Nothing Johnny. We should be happy we made it out."

Simon knows Johnny's not happy: not happy he never received the rank he wanted, not happy he has to go back home and take care of his mom again.

"You're right L.T.. I'll call you again when I'm home. How's the bookstore thing?"

"It's going alright. Bye, Johnny."

"Bye."

In the silence after the call, Simon thinks he should get a cat. Something to make the apartment less quiet; something to give him purpose when he's there.

Something that won't crawl all over him at the end of the day.

***

He needs something to do with his hands.

That's what he tells Billy when she arrives at the store on Saturday morning and Simon's ripping up a portion of the carpet, a stack of flooring waiting to be installed.

"So you have to do it when I'll have customers here?"

"Tell them it's a new addition; they'll be alright."

"I'm not paying you extra for this."

"I didn't ask you to."

Billy looks at him, one foot tapping a sharp staccato muffled by the carpet. 

"Fine."

She pauses for a moment, Simon's knife running down the carpet to separate it from the floor beneath. She picks up one of the pieces of flooring, turning it over in her hand.

"What is this?"

"It's vinyl. It's waterproof in case you spill something."

Billy drops the plank back onto the stack and leaves to unlock the front door.

Simon revels in the way his shoulders burn at the work, the way the rough concrete scratches his knuckles once everything is pulled off the floor and he has to start laying down the underflooring. He revels in the way his back cramps as he's bent over.

In the way he feels useful.

It takes him all day to get half the flooring down.

Billy doesn't speak to him about it, doesn't ask where he got the money from, or why he's suddenly doing free renovations on the place. 

Simon knows she appreciates it by the way she drops down his lunch - no tomatoes, just a water to drink- beside him without expecting a thank you. By the way, she chides the little kids who come over to ask him a million and one questions, he doesn't know how to answer and brushes them away from him. 

She catches him smoking in the back alley on his break. She's polite enough to turn back when she realizes he has his mask down and keeps her back turned to him.

"That shit's going to kill you."

"It can only hope." 

Simon can tell she's giving him a withering look at him from her position half inside the doorway.

"If you come in smelling like that cancerous poison I'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day."

He must smell because she doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day, not even saying goodbye when they depart at her apartment.

Simon hides the cigarettes in a drawer when he gets home.

***

It's Price that reaches out to him first, a quick phone call, a holdover from their days in the field.

"Are you holding up?"

Not "how are you holding up?", but "are you holding up?" The difference between three letters is so vast Simon doesn't know how to cross it.

"I'm doing fine."

"Johnny told me you've got a job?"

"Just something to keep me occupied."

"Is that all you've got?"

"What more do I need?"

The receiver is filled with the sound of Price inhaling a cigar; Simon can almost smell him through the receiver.

"You're not Ghost anymore Simon. It takes more than that to survive this."

Survive this . As if this is the most dangerous mission Simon's ever been on as if being forcibly retired has some sort of great mortality rate. 

"Understood."

He listens to Price's dial tone for five minutes before he hangs up.

Maybe it does.

***

He paces the town at night. Once the gym doesn't become enough to wear him out, doesn't help his brain relax, he walks the streets. 

He thinks more than once that someone is going to call the cops on him and report him for being suspicious. 

But Simon Riley isn't Ghost anymore. Simon Riley is someone not worth noticing. 

It's almost surprising how well the little town sleeps with the remnants of Ghost stalking through it; how now one seems to have any idea of what he was once - and still is - capable of.

He steals a lot of time sitting on people's steps, on the stoops of little houses, picking the petals off of the flowers in big pots, and lining up the shoes and toys that were left disarrayed in the chaos of the daytime. He wonders if someone is going to catch him on their security camera and name him the town freak, but no one does.

He keeps up at it enough that he can feel the shift in the air, feel winter creeping in. He notices it in the way more and more boots are left outside, by the plants with plastic coverings over them, protecting them.

He finds himself, more often than not, taking the long way around to stop at the bottom stairs of Billy's apartment. Most nights the lights are off, and the window open. He wants to tell her to stop doing that, to lock the window, but he doesn't know how to say it without giving away his nights. So instead he keeps watch, hands buried in his pockets as he counts the moths in the streetlights. 

Sometimes though the lights are on and he can hear the sound of her house through the open window. Sometimes the cat peers down at him as if prepared to leap through the window screen at him - sometimes she grabs the cat, never looking down at Simon; more often than not the cat curls up in the windowsill without budging. 

A few times he could hear her talking to someone, the conversation muffled from above. He wondered about who she could be talking to so late at night. Why she was up in the middle of the night to talk to someone? 

He makes his way home as the town starts to wake up.

***

He moves once - to a tiny house in the middle of town, just enough to have a yard big enough to cross in two strides.

He tells Johnny it's because he was tired of the noises of the neighbors. 

He tells Johnny it's because he's taken up woodworking and needs a spot for the tools.

"What are you building you old bastard?"

"Some cabinets."

"For what?"

"Mind your own business, Johnny."

It takes weeks to get them perfect. Eventually, though, they're good enough to put in the back of a rented truck. 

He does it on a Friday when no one is around. He tells himself that it's easier that way, no one walking underfoot. 

That night he lets himself admit - just for a moment as he sits on the shower floor - that he didn't want to see her face if she's disappointed by it.

***

She refuses to open the door for him the next day, opting to yell at him through the glass instead.

"You cannot keep making renovations to my store without asking me!"

"It's no big deal; open the door."

"No big deal: you put a floor down, you handbuild cabinets, and you broke into my store to install them!"

"You gave me a key."

"Not for that!"

It's a stalemate: Simon poised with his hand on the door handle, her hands tucked into the pocket of her jacket.

"I still have to do the plumbing."

She massages her eyes before leaning forward to turn the lock. Simon steps inside with the biting wind.

"You're fucking irritating, Simon Riley."

I know .

She makes him put up the Christmas tree - a fucking monstrosity that takes up the entire front window. It takes him all day to get the decorations to her standard; her yelling through the store at him to move something incrementally to the left or right.

Billy leans on the counter, shuffling through official-looking papers and refusing to look at Simon when he's finished.

"Thanks to you," she says, never looking up at him, "I have to start getting the paperwork processed to be able to serve food and drinks here."

"Is it difficult?"

"It's not easy."

Their conversation pauses just long enough for her to check out a customer. She turns back to Simon as soon as the door shuts.

"Why are you doing all this Simon?"

He doesn't answer, and he realizes as he stands there, hands folded behind his back and spine rigid that he needs to tell her something, but all he notices is the black ink mark on her cheek. She doesn't pressure him to answer, but she doesn't let her eyes leave him.

Simon breaks first, eyes cast down to the floor.

"Ok," Billy whispers under her breath, "you don't have to answer, but just let me know when you're going to do something else. Can you text me next time before you start?"

"I don't have your number."

She doesn't ask for his phone, instead, she tears a corner of a piece of paper off and scribbles her number on it. Her hands don't shake when she holds the paper out to Simon, but his shake when he takes it. Simon can tell Billy notices. He stuffs the paper into his pocket, pushing it past his keys and his phone. 

"Hey, Simon," Billy chews on her lip.

"What?"

"Are you busy tomorrow night?"

***

Johnny's chatting his ear off, Simon's barely paying attention to him as he stares at the shirts thrown out on his bed.

"- L.T.? Simon?"

"What? Johnny, what?"

"Are you even listening?"

"No, Johnny. I'm not."

The static of Johnny's disapproval.

"What could be distracting you from my wonderful conversation?"

"I'm busy Johnny."

"With what?"

"Nothing Johnny. I just have somewhere to be later - I'm trying to get ready for dinner."

"Dinner? Like with someone else?"

Simon hangs up on him.

***

Simon wants to pretend that he doesn't have the path to her house memorized; doesn't have each step calculated to know when exactly to stand on the bottom step at 6:59 so that he can knock on her door right at 7. But he does, so he hovers on the bottom step for an extra minute.

She doesn't answer when he knocks; she yells through the door for him to come in. In his pocket his phone buzzes every few seconds, Johnny sends another message insisting that Simon tell him who he's eating dinner with. Simon thinks for a moment about blocking his number for the night.

Billy smiles at him from behind the counter, elbow-deep in bread dough. All at once, Simon feels overdressed taking in the large shirt covered in flour Billy's wearing. 

"Hey. Sorry, dinner's going to be like 30 minutes later than I said. I couldn't get this shit to rise properly for like an hour."

"It's alright."

Billy must sense his apprehension because she jerks her head at a chair pulled up to the counter. 

"Come sit down."

Simon appreciates the order. Billy rolls the dough out on the counter, measuring the thickness with her knuckle with a precision Simon would expect out of her. He has to keep himself from staring at her; instead, he analyzes the rest of the apartment. 

He can see everything but the bedroom from his one spot; that door is firmly shut. It's clean but the type of clean houses have whenever someone new is coming over and everything is thrown into a closet. After a few minutes, Simon thinks he needs to speak.

"What are you making?"

"Rolls. I made - uh - what is the fancy word for it - beef bourgine?"

"Beef bourguignon?"

Billy smiles down at the dough as she cuts squares out.

"I'm glad one of us can say it - I can cook, I just can't speak French."

"Do you always cook like this?"

"Only on special occasions."

Special occasions . 

It's awkward at first for Simon to sit there while she moves about the kitchen, putting the rolls in the oven and cleaning the counter; Billy doesn't speak much and Simon knows she doesn't feel the need to fill the silence either. 

His phone buzzes again - under the counter he checks it.

Johnny:

don't leave me hanging lt tell me whos it is

"Your girlfriend?" Billy teases without turning to look at Simon from the other side of the kitchen. 

"Not exactly," Simon says, muting the phone and shoving it back in his pocket. 

"Do you have one?" Her voice is prying, but she doesn't look at Simon as she pulls bowls down from the cabinet. 

"A girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

It bubbles inside him - just once - the urge to tell her about himself . He swallows it down.

"No."

"Not even back home?"

"Back home?"

She grins at him slyly, setting two glasses of water down in front of the two of them.

"Why do you think I have to keep paying you in cash? Your um….paperwork didn't exactly list you as being an employable American. And you have - you know - an accent."

Simon doesn't realize he's leaning toward her until his elbows hit the counter. 

"No, not back home."

She seems satisfied by that answer - or she doesn't have time to ask anything else. Behind her the oven timer beeps and she turns to pull the rolls out. They're barely out of the oven whenever she ladles the stew into the bowls and pulls two rolls off one for each of them.

 Pushing the bowl towards Simon she opens her mouth - Simon thinks she's going to ask something else but she just shakes her head. 

"I'm going to eat over there, so you can eat too," she says passing him a fork. 

"No cameras?"

"None you can see."

She retreats to the other side of the room and drops down on the couch so that she's facing away from him. Muffled behind a door to the right, Simon can hear her cat meow once. 

They eat in silence; Simon knows she's only eating slowly to give him time to finish without her accidentally turning to see his face. He doesn't need it: he realizes he hasn't had a meal that hasn't consisted of a sandwich or some form of potatoes in weeks; he eats fast, slowing down just as he finishes to keep from embarrassing himself. 

He sets the bowl down with enough dramatics that she can tell he's done without having to turn around. It's quiet again when she comes into the kitchen and takes his bowl to rinse it out in the sink. The sound of the water makes his skin crawl; it clashes with the domestic feeling of being taken care of. 

She laughs quietly to herself as she dries her hands on her shirt, lifting it up just enough to expose the little shorts she has on underneath.

"Something funny?"

"Not really funny," she says, hands stilling in her shirt, "I don't know - it just - I - well it's about this time of dinner that guys usually try to take me to the bedroom. I was just thinking about how different this night would be with anyone else."

With anyone else . 

That bothers him some.

"I don't suppose that's what you came here for," she grins at him as she speaks, resting her elbows on the counter. "Besides we don't even know each other."

"We work with each other every weekend," Simon retorts, not sure why he feels the need to prove her wrong.

"And we barely speak the entire time."

She points at him, her bright yellow nails glinting in the light.

"I've never seen you in anything other than long sleeves, even on the hottest day. You could have like fucking tentacles under there and I wouldn't know. And you don't even know anything about me."

For once, Simon doesn't think - he does.

He pushes his sleeves up slowly, each one nearly to his elbow. Billy leans forward, just enough to see the tattoo ink and scars that mar his forearms. Her fingers twitch against the countertop like she wants to reach out and touch him, but they stay still.

"Do you - do you only have tattoos on your arms?"

Simon reaches up to hook one finger in his collar and pulls it down just a half inch - just enough to show her the ink there.

"Your turn," Simon says, dropping his hand down. Under the counter, it lies fisted on his thigh.

"My turn?" Billy asks eyebrow cocked at him.

"Do you have any tattoos?"

She licks her lips once; Simon can see her thinking. After a pause she reaches down to grab the edge of her shirt - Simon's heart clenches. She lifts the hem up, just enough to show him the edge of a tattoo on her side, disappearing beneath her shorts and rising above where she lifted. She laughs a little as she drops the shirt.

"Is that all we need to know about each other?"

"It's a start."

***

He finally tells her he was in the military four Sundays after the first one. She'd told him at work she was too tired to cook and apologized, promising to make it up to him. So when he showed up at her door with a pizza and a promise that he was just dropping it off on his way home, he was surprised when she asked him to come in.

Each week they coaxed something new out of each other: a snippet about their families, about their travels. He loves Kentucky; she's from the East Coast. Her father died young. He's from England.

She's curled up in the recliner the cat on her stomach - they're watching something on television but they're both not really paying attention to it. So he blurts it out - a new confession in this weekly therapy.

"I was in the military."

"I guessed. The British Armed Forces?"

"The SAS."

She frowns and Simon stiffens.

"Is that like a unit or something?"

"Yeah."

This time she grins.

"Is that why you always lock my door behind you when you come in?"

"No. I do it because you never know who could come in when you're alone."

"You mean when you're not here."

Yes.

"No."

She rolls over, clutching the cat to her chest so as to not dump him on the floor until her feet hang over the arm and she can eyeball Simon across the room.

"I can shoot straight."

"Can you?"

***

She can. She takes him through the desert on Friday afternoon, bundled up against the cold. Out where they can target practice without anyone bothering them.

She hits every target.

***

"Christmas is this weekend."

"Yeah."

"So you know we're closed right? I'm not paying you time and a half."

A pause longer than he's used to.

"Are you doing anything for Christmas?"

"No."

"Do you want to come over?"

***

She makes Chinese on Christmas. A tradition she says because when she was younger the only places open were Chinese restaurants and her dad couldn't cook. They didn't have real dinners until she learned to cook herself, but it was always Chinese on Christmas.

The cat has a bell around its neck for the holiday and it latches onto Simon for the night. She wrinkles her nose at the cat and calls him a traitor. The cat doesn't seem to care. 

"I didn't get you a present," she says, putting her bowl on the coffee table. From his spot in the kitchen, Simon speaks.

"I didn't get you one either."

"Well, you're slowly building me an entire coffee shop."

"That's not present."

"Well, it's not exactly in your job description either."

He leaves his half-eaten bowl on the counter to drop down on the couch. She's sideways in the armchair, shirt riding up and a bruise on her shin. She's back to white nails.

"I can make out with you for Christmas; other guys have liked that present."

Simon's heart nearly stops. 

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just kidding Si."

Just kidding .

***

She begs and pleads with him to please go out to the bar with her for the new year. He doesn't have to drink, she says, she can drink enough for the both of them. 

She does. She doesn't even make it until eleven.

He carries her home on his back. Her door is unlocked and wants to think about how dangerous that is, but all he can think about is her warm breath on his neck.

He drops her unceremoniously onto the couch - he thinks about carrying her to the bedroom, but that's one place the door has always been shut to. 

He does take her shoes off of her while she insists she can do that herself. He slips the right one off when the fireworks go off outside; the entire town is bathed in their light.

"Midnight," she says as Simon rises up on one knee in front of her, ready to tell her goodbye and good night.

She kisses him over the mask.

She doesn't mention it the next day.

***

By summer, Simon has the entire cafe portion of the store finished. He's embarrassed when she hangs a sign over the area: 'Simon's Spot'. 

"What?" She asks, peering down at him from the top of the ladder. "You built it."

***

He breaks during the summer. Billy calls him on a Tuesday, asking if he knows anything about air conditioning systems.

"You built the cafe, so I know you're handy."

He doesn't. But he can figure it out. 

After hours the bookstore is sweltering. Billy has the blinds pulled down in a futile attempt to keep out some of the heat and the setting sun. Her shirt, already cropped short, clings to her with sweat when she unlocks the front door for Simon. 

It takes him two hours but he figures it out. When it kicks on she looks up at him, one arm resting on his shoulder, and tells him he's her hero.

He makes it all the way to her apartment - the promise of something for dinner and a cold drink as for payment the ruse - before he does it. 

It's dark inside, dark enough that when he locks the door behind him, he slips his mask off. She turns to ask him something - he doesn't hear it; he's too busy kissing her, pushing her back against the kitchen cabinet. 

It's messy - the kissing - he can't remember the last time he kissed somebody like this - all teeth and tongue and need.

When they stumble into her room, he doesn't take his shirt off, and she doesn't ask why.

***

"Come visit me L.T.. Scotlands beautiful this time of year."

"I'll have to book two tickets Johnny; that's not cheap."

"Alright, you cheap bastard you can afford it."

[barrenclan]

Chonny Jash's cover of The Moss seems very patfw-core to me. I think someone's brought it up before but I'd like to specifically point out some of the new/changed lyrics that I think fit

But everything you see isn't everything that is

Every thing you think to be, every thought you can't dismiss

The lives we try to lead and the time we try to give

Well it's all a fallacy, we continue to relive

^ Cats like Pinepaw and Rainhaze's curiosity about what's beyond Barrenclan territory, how cats like Cootstorm try to discourage that type of thinking and how their actions unintentionally lead them to their fates. Also very cyclecore

And every thing will live, just as every thing will die

Every foe that you forgive, and every friend that you deny

Every single first hello, and every single last goodbye

Every smile that you show, every tear that you hide

^ In my head I'm picturing an amv/pmv and for this part I'm very much imagining a sort of slideshow section about contrasts and various events: Barrenclan/Defiance, Rainhaze and Ranger/Rainhaze and Asphodelpaw, Pinepaw and Saturn/Pinepaw and Wild Rose, Slugpelt and Cashew/Slugpelt and Dustfeather. Idk if that makes sense

Well, legend has it that we're all just doomed

And we've ruined our society

Well, legend has it that we dug our tomb

Which we'll lie in for all eternity

^ Barrenclan's whole staying as punishment for their cowardice ideology

Well legend has it that, the world once knew a whole palette of lovely blues and greens

Well legend has it that, our corpses lie a foundation of insincerity

^ what Barrenclan's territory used to be - blue and green - and what it is now - on a foundation of corpses

*Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz—

I've seen a lot of people in the server talking about Chonny Jash, he seems pretty fun. But if I'm honest, I'm more of a Johnny Cash fan. :P

Ooh, yes! You've targeted me with a TMBG suggestion, I actually went ahead and added "Don't Let's Start" to the playlist but I love this song too.

Even when you're out of work you still have a job to do Even when you don't know what it is Your job knows what it is What it is is it's coming to get you

And when you wake up you can feel your hair grow Crawl out of your cave and you can watch your shadow Creep across the ground until the day is done All the while the planet circles 'round the sun

Haha, that is funny irony. But I agree with you! Isn't it interesting how despite being named that way, "Defiance" doesn't allow any of its members to defy Deepdark?

Compliance We just need your compliance You will feel no pain anymore No more defiance

Fall into line, you will do as you're told No choice fatigue, your blood is running cold We lose control, the world will fall apart Love of your life will mend your broken heart

Will Wood is ever-popular, of course, though I never got really into him. I can see this is as a Pinepaw song!

All nightmares start as dreams and I hear my subconscious screaming They say that beauty's just skin deep So naturally, please show me your

Bones, bones, bones, let me see your bones Well, I don't wanna know if the feeling follows home Bones, bones, bones, hell, we're all alone If I come home, baby, will you show your bones?

They say that beauty's just skin deep So Ana stands and rends the rancid meat from her

Oh... Rainhaze and Slugpelt song.

Are you dead or are you sleepin'? Are you dead or are you sleepin'? God, I sure hope you are dead

Well, you disappeared so often like you dissolved into coffee Are you here right now, or are there probably fossils under your meat?

Defiance song! Spefically, I could see it as from Ranger/broader Defiance's perspective as he navigates the group.

We're at a revolution And we're baying for your blood We're laying down the law And your name's mud

Cause you say you fight for us Cross your heart and hope to die You're the bully in the playground and we'll hang you out to dry

Oh yeah, I remember this song from the IncuriousCat PMV. I like it! "Nowhere King" is also a Deepdark song, so that creepy children's song-esque music does fit with the series. If anyone wanted to edit together a trailer it'd be cool!

Perfect. No notes.

Actually, someone's already made a PMV to the comic with the song! You can check it out here.

I don't think it's been suggested yet! It's a Pinepaw song, of course.

I'll cut my hair (Ooh) to make you stare (Ooh) I'll hide my chest And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

I can't really think right now and this place Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead 'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

[mooseyspooky]

Songs Moz says he wrote about Johnny:

-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together

Meanwhile, all the songs that I think are actually about Johnny, or in some way referring to him:

-Hand In Glove (1983)

-No, it's not like any other love. This one is different, because it's us.

-So, hand in glove I stake my claim. I'll fight to the last breath. If they dare touch a hair on your head, I'll fight to the last breath. For the good life is out there somewhere. So stay on my arm, you little charmer, but I know my luck too well. Yes, I know my luck too well. And I'll probably never see you again.

-Reel Around The Fountain (1983)

-Fifteen minutes with you. Well, I wouldn't say no. Oh, people said that you were virtually dead, and they were so wrong.

-I dreamt about you last night, and I fell out of bed twice. You can pin and mount me like a butterfly, but, "Take me to the haven of your bed" was something that you never said. Two lumps, please. You're the bee's knees but so am I.

-What Difference Does It Make? (1982)

-All men have secrets and here is mine. So let it be known. For we have been through hell and high tide. I think I can rely on you, and yet you start to recoil. Heavy words are so lightly thrown, but still I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you.

-But now you know the truth about me. You won't see me anymore. Well, I'm still fond of you.

-But I'm still fond of you. Oh, my sacred one.

-Miserable Lie (Linder/Johnny) (1982)

-I know I need hardly say how much I love your casual way. Oh, but please put your tongue away. A little higher and we're well away. The dark nights are drawing in, and your humor is as black as them. I look at yours, you laugh at mine, and "love" is just a miserable lie. You have destroyed my flower-like life. Not once - twice. You have corrupt my innocent mind. Not once - twice.

-This Charming Man (1983)

-When in this charming car. This charming man.

-Why pamper life's complexity when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?

-This man said, "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care."

-These Things Take Time (1982)

-Mine eyes have seen the glory of the sacred wunderkind.

-But I can't believe that you'd ever care, and this is why you will never care.

-I'm spellbound, but a woman divides, and the hills are alive with celibate cries. But you know where you came from, you know where you're going, and you know where you belong. You said I was ill and you were not wrong.

-The alcoholic afternoons when we sat in your room - they meant more to me than any than any living thing on earth. It had more worth than any living thing on earth. Vivid and in your prime. You will leave me behind.

-Handsome Devil (1982)

-You ask me the time, but I sense something more. And I would like to give what I think you're asking for.

-You handsome devil. Oh, you handsome devil. Let me get my hands on your mammary glands, and let me get your head on the conjugal bed.

-I crack the whip, and you skip, but you deserve it. And when we're in your scholarly room, who will swallow whom?

-Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want (1984)

-So for once in my life let me get what I want. Lord knows it would be the last time.

-I Want The One I Can't Have (1984)

-On the day that your mentality decides to try to catch up with your biology - come 'round. 'Cause I want the one I can't have, and it's driving me mad. It's all over, all over, all over my face.

-And if you ever need self-validation just meet me in the alley by the railway-station. It's all over my face.

-That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore (1984)

-Park the car at the side of the road. You should know time's tide will smother you - and I will too. When you laugh about people who feel so very lonely their only desire is to die - well, I'm afraid it doesn't make me smile.

-It was dark as I drove the point home, and on cold leather seats - well, it suddenly struck me. I just might die with a smile on my face after all.

-Well I Wonder (1983/1984)

-Do you hear me when you sleep? I hoarsely cry.

-Do you see me when we pass? I half-die.

-Please keep me in mind.

-I Know It's Over (1985)

-I know it's over - still I cling. I don't know where else I can go.

-Sad veiled bride, please be happy. Handsome groom, give her room. Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly. Though she needs you more than she loves you.

-I know it's over, and it never really began, but in my heart it was so real. And you even spoke to me, and said: "If you're so funny then why are you on your own tonight? And if you're so clever then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very entertaining then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very good-looking why do you sleep alone tonight?"

-Love is natural and real, but not for you, my love. Not tonight, my love. Love is natural and real, but not for such as you and I, my love.

-Never Had No One Ever (1985)

-Now I'm outside your house - I'm alone. And I'm outside your house. I hate to intrude.

-The Boy with the Thorn in His Side (1985)

-How can they look into my eyes, and still they don't believe me? How can they hear me say those words - still they don't believe me? And if they don't believe me now will they ever believe me?

-How can they see the love in our eyes, and still they don't believe us? And after all this time they don't want to believe us. And if they don't believe us now will they ever believe us?

-There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (1985)

-Driving in your car. I never, never want to go home. Because I haven't got one anymore.

-Driving in your car. Please don't drop me home.

-And if a double-decker bus crashes into us - to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us - to die by your side...well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine.

-Take me out tonight. Take me anywhere, I don't care. And in the darkened underpass I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last." But then a strange fear gripped me, and I just couldn't ask.

-Stretch Out and Wait (1985)

-All the lies that you make up...what's at the back of your mind? Your face I can see, and it's desperately kind - but what's at the back of your mind?

-Amid concrete and clay, and general decay, nature must still find a way. So ignore all the codes of the day. Let your juvenile impulses sway...God, how sex implores you to let yourself lose yourself.

-Stretch out and wait. Let your puny body lie down. As we lie, you say...stretch out and...

-Shakespeare's Sister (1985)

-But I'm going to meet the one I love. So, please don't stand in my way, because I'm going to meet the one I love.

-I can smile about it now, but at the time it was terrible.

-Sweet and Tender Hooligan (1986)

-He said that he'd never, never do it again, and of course he won't - not until the next time.

-Would you look into those motherly eyes? I love you for you, my love, you, my love.

-Is It Really So Strange? (1986)

-And I can't help the way I feel. You can kick me, and you can punch me, and you can break my face, but you won't change the way I feel. 'Cause I love you.

-Is it really so strange? I say no, you say yes - and you will change your mind.

-London (1986)

-Smoke lingers 'round your fingers. Train a-heave on to Euston. Do you think you've made the right decision this time?

-You left your girlfriend on the platform with this really ragged notion that you'll return, but she knows that when he goes, he really goes. And do you think you've made the right decision this time?

-Ask (1986)

-So if there's something you'd like to try...Ask me, I won't say no, how could I?

-Because if it's not love then it's the bomb...that will bring us together.

-Nature is a language, can't you read?

-I Started Something I Couldn't Finish (1987)

-The lanes were silent. There was nothing, no one, nothing around for miles. I doused our friendly venture with a hard-faced, three-word gesture.

-I started something, I forced you to a zone - and you were clearly never meant to go. Hair brushed and parted, typical me...I started something, and now I'm not too sure.

-I grabbed you by guilded beams. That's what tradition means. And I doused another venture with a gesture that was absolutely vile.

-Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before (1987)

-Nothing's changed. I still love you, oh, I still love you...only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love.

-Who said I'd lied to her? Who said I'd lied, because I never...

-Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me (1987)

-Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.

-Last night I felt real arms around me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.

-I Won't Share You (1987)

-I won't share you, no. I won't share you. With the drive and ambition. The zeal I feel, this is my time.

-Life tends to come and go. That's okay...as long as you know.

-I'll see you somewhere. I'll see you sometime, darling.

-I Keep Mine Hidden (1987)

-Hate, love and war force emotions to the fore, but not for me of course, of course. I keep mine hidden.

-But it's so easy for you...because you let yours flail into public view.

-The lies are so easy for you, because you let yours slide into public view.

-Alsatian Cousin (1987)

-Were you and he lovers? And would you say so if you were?

-A note upon his desk. "P.S. Bring Me Home And Have Me!" Leather elbows on a tweed coat -is that the best you can do? So came his reply: "But on the desk is where I want you."

-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together (1987)

-Note: I personally believe that this song is Johnny speaking to Morrissey shortly after the breakup.

-Angel, angel. Don't take your life tonight. I know they take, and that they take in turn. And they give you nothing real for yourself in return, but when they've used you and they've broken you, and wasted all your money, and cast your shell aside - and when they've bought you and they've sold you, and they've billed you for the pleasure, and they've made your parents cry. I will be here, oh, believe me. I will be here, believe me. Angel, don't take your life. Some people have got no pride. They do not understand the urgency of life. But I love you more than life.

-Late Night, Maudlin Street (1987)

-Note: In a similar vein, I think this is Morrissey's side of the conversation from Angel, Angel Down We Go Together. It is the very next song on the album (Viva Hate). This song is a mix of movie quotes, description of movie scenes, and (more or less) spoken word pieces. Those spoken word pieces I think are Moz' response to Johnny in Angel, Angel. 'Don't take your life, tonight.' 'I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you,' ect.

-Love at first sight. May sound trite, but it's true, you know. I could list the details of everything you ever wore, or said, or how you stood that day.

-Truly I do love you. Oh, truly I do love you.

-When I sleep with that picture of you framed beside my bed...Oh, it's childish and it's silly, but I think it's you in my room by the bed. Yes, I told you it was silly, and I know I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you. Oh, truly I love you.

-The last bus I missed to Maudlin Street. So, he drove me home in the van, complaining, "Women only like me for my mind..."

-And so we crept through the park. No, I cannot steal a pair of jeans off a clothesline for you...but you without clothes. Oh, I could not keep a straight face. Me, without clothes? Well, a nation turns its back and gags.

-Oh, truly I do love you...wherever you are.

-Suedehead (1987)

-Why do you come here? And why, why do you hang around? I'm so sorry...Why do you come here when you know it makes things hard for me? ...Why do you telephone? And why send me silly notes? I'm so sorry.

-You had to sneak into my room just to read my diary. "It was just to see, just to see." All the things you knew I'd written about you. Oh, so many illustrations. But I'm so very sickened. I am so sickened now...Oh, it was a good lay, good lay.

-Break Up the Family (1987)

-The strange logic in your clumsiest line - it stayed emblazoned on my mind. You say, break up the family, and let's begin to live our lives.

-Yes, you found love, but you weren't at peace with your life. Home late, full of hate. Despise the ties that bind.

-I Don't Mind If You Forget Me (1987)

-I don't mind - I don't mind if you forget me.

-So now you send me your hardened 'regards' when once you'd send me 'Love.' Sincerely I must tell you your mild 'best wishes' - they make me suspicious.

-The pressure to change, to move on was strange, and very strong. So this is why I tell you - I really do understand. Bye bye.

-Rejection is one thing, but rejection from a fool is cruel.

-I Know Very Well How I Got My Name (1987)

-A child in a curious phase. A man with sullen ways. I know very well how I got my name. You think you were my first love. You think you were my first love, but you're wrong. You were the only one. Who's come and gone.

-Treat Me Like a Human Being (1987)

-It's hard, but try...for once, just for once...Leave all your hate behind you. It's still all so strange and obscene for you to look and see one who is real and who feels life.

-Three words could change my life. So once, just for once...let the night pass with ease, son. Treat me like a human being. I'd like to know how this feels.

-Three words could change my life, yet you treat me like you never care.

-Happy Lovers at Last United (1988)

-Happy lovers, back together, and I do feel proud. Happy lovers, reunited, and I do feel proud now. I'm not the type to boast as you know, though it was me who brought them back together. He is so kind, and she is so clever, but they don't want me now, hanging around.

-I rang to her to explain of how he really wants to see you again. I said more or less the same thing to him too, which wasn't true. And now they walk, hand in hand, all is planned, by the silent glance I believe, that only lovers share. And I'm proud to have done something good for once. And she is so kind, and he's so clever, but they don't need me now, hanging around.

-Will Never Marry (1988)

-For whether you stay, or you stray, an inbuilt guilt that catches up with you - and as it comes around to your place at 5 a.m., wakes you up, and it laughs in your face.

-He Knows I'd Love to See Him (1989)

-He knows, he knows, or...I think he does. 'Cause when I lived in the arse of the world...he knows, he knows. He knows I'd love to see him happy, or as close as is allowed.

-Oh, my name still conjures up deadly deeds, and a bad taste in the mouth.

-He doesn't know...

-Yes, I Am Blind (1989)

-Love's young dream. I'm the one who shocked you. I'm the one who stopped you, 'cause in my sorry way I love you.

-Love's young dream...aren't you sorry for what you've done? Well, you're not the only one, and in my sorry way I love you.

-Yes, I am blind, but I do see evil people prosper over the likes of you and me always.

-Oh Phoney (1989)

-May this lovely letter reach its destination...if only. Question one is why do you pretend that you like me? Oh Phoney. See how the outside contradicts what's inside.

-Who can make Hitler seem like a bus conductor? You do, oh Phoney you do. You sing a lovely song to a scale, and the words spell out my name. Oh Phoney. But then you kick me down below, 'cause you know it won't show. How could you?

-King Leer (Linder?/Johnny) (1990)

-Your boyfriend, he went down on one knee...Well, could it be he's only got one knee?

-Your boyfriend, he has the gift of the gab, or, could it be...the gift of the grab?

-Your boyfriend, he has displayed to me more than just a real hint of cruelty.

-Found Found Found (Peter Hogg?/Johnny) (1990)

-Found, found, found...someone who's worth it in this murkiness. Someone who's never seeming to be scheming...(Oh, but if I'd never found)...I do believe that the more you give your love, and I do believe that the more you give your trust...the more you're bound to lose. (Oh, but if I'd never found)...Somebody who wants to be who wants to be with me...all the time.

-The Loop (1990)

-I just want to say I haven't been away. I'm still right here, where I always was. So one day, if you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but only if you want to. I just want to say I haven't been away. I am still right here, where I always was. So one day, when you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but you might not get through.

-My Love Life (1991)

-Come on to my house. Come on and do something new. I know you love one person so why can't you love two? (Note: Moz once changed this line to "I know you love one person, but why don't you love two?")

-Give a little something...give a little something to my love life.

-I know you love one person so why don't you love two, love? Love two (Note: Moz once changed this line to "I know you love one person, but why can't you love two?")

-Seasick, Yet Still Docked (1992)

-Wish I knew the way to reach the one I love. There is no way. Wish I had the charm to attract the one I love, but you see, I've got no charm.

-Tonight I've consumed much more than I can hold. Oh, this is very clear to you. And you can tell I have never really loved. You can tell by the way I sleep all day, and all of my life no one gave me anything...My love is as sharp as a needle in your eye. You must be such a fool to pass me by.

-I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday (1992)

-My love, wherever you are, whatever you are - don't lose faith. I know it's gonna happen someday to you. Please wait...

-You say that the day just never arrives, and it's never seemed so far away. Still, I know it's gonna happen someday to you.

-Tomorrow (1992)

-All I ask of you is one thing that you never do - would you put your arms around me? I won't tell anyone. Tomorrow...does it have to come?

-And what must come before. Oh, the pain in my arms. Oh, the pain in my legs. Oh, my shiftless body. Tomorrow. It's surely nearer now. You don't think I'll make it. I never said I wanted to - well, did I?

-All I ask of you is would you tell me that you love me. Tell me, tell me that you love me. Ah, I know you don't mean it.

-I'd Love To (1993)

-Again I lay awake, and I cried because of waste. I'd love to, but only with you...Oh, time is gonna wipe us out. There, I've said it loud and clear so that you will hear. There's no one in view. Just you...and time will never wipe you out. Now I've had enough. I've had more than could be my rightful share of nights I can't bear. How can it be fair? Time must wipe them out. So, again, I lay awake in a trance. Oh, I just want my chance, but only with you...that's all...

-Spring-Heeled Jim (1993)

-Spring-heeled Jim lives to love. Now kissing with his mouth full, and his eyes on some other fool. So many women - his head should be spinning. Ah, but no!

-Spring-heeled Jim slurs the words: "There's no need to be so knowing. Take life at five times your average speed, like I do."

-Billy Budd (1993)

-Say, Billy Budd. So you think that you should? Everyone's laughing! Since I took up with you. Things have been bad. Yeah, but now it's twelve years on. Now it's twelve years on. Yes, and I took up with you.

-Yes, and it's all because of us. Oh, and what was in our eyes...I said, Billy Budd I would happily lose both of my legs...I would lose both of my legs if it meant you could be free.

-Hold On to Your Friends (1993)

-A bond of trust has been abused. Something of value may be lost. Give up your job. Squander your cash - be rash. Just hold on to your friends. There are more than enough to fight and oppose. Why waste good time fighting the people you like? Who will fall defending your name?

-But now you only call me when you're feeling depressed. When you feel happy I'm so far from your mind. My patience is stretched. My loyalty vexed.

-Be mad, be rash. Smoke and explode. Sell all of your clothes. Just bear in mind: Oh, there just might come a time when you need some friends.

-Speedway (1993) (Johnny/Issues with the NME)

-And when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? All of the rumors...keeping me grounded. I never said, I never said that they were completely unfounded.

-So when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? Can you delve so low? And when you're standing on my fingers can you see it in your heart? And when you try to break my spirit it won't work, because there's nothing left to break...anymore.

-You won't sleep until the earth that wants me finally has me. Oh you've done it now. You won't rest. Until the hearse that becomes me finally takes me...And you won't smile until my loving mouth is shut good and proper. Forever.

-And all those lies, written lies, twisted lies. Well, they weren't lies. They weren't lies...I never said...I could have mentioned your name. I could have dragged you in. Guilt by implication. By association. I've always been true to you in my own strange way. I've always been true to you in my own sick way. I'll always stay true to you.

-You Must Please Remember (1994)

-A small boy, big ideas. You must please remember. A long road, with no turn-off. Oh, you must remember. Caught in your headlights like a frightened animal. You must remember. Someone cries twice nightly. Of course, I do remember. Someone cries, and you think quite rightly so, but you refuse to remember.

-Low-lights and long nights. I try hard to not remember. And you - too beautiful. I can't look. I've done so very many stupid things. It's too late.

-Honey, You Know Where To Find Me (1994)

-Honey, I'm not gonna cry for the things that never occurred. So do not remind me. Happy to be as I was in the first place. Honey you know where to find me...Kicking away from the mundane everyday. The envy is beyond me. I'm not gonna pine for the things that can never be mine. Do not expect me to. I'm happy to be who I was in the first place.

-Whatever Happens I Love You (1994)

-Names, secret names, but never in my favour. But when all is said and done - it's you I love. Cold loving prose. We stole each other's clothes, but when all is said and done - it's you I love. Yes, yes, yes, oh, yes. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'we wore each other's clothes')

-Fights for rights. Everyone's oh so quick with advice, and when they've all said their piece - it's still you I love. Now just like then...yes, yes. No, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

-You Should Have Been Nice to Me (Jake?/Johnny) (1994/1995)

-You could have told me at the right time. You could have introduced me proudly. Never need to have to kiss me. Never need to ever touch me, but you should have been nice to me. It would have been so easy. And on the moments when I was down you could have been there. You could have once just spoke in favor. You'd never need to ever touch me. But you should have been nice to me...It wouldn't cost you money. And on the moments when I fell down - not for you to say, oh, I told you so. You could have waited...

-Trouble Loves Me (1996/1997)

-Trouble loves me. Trouble needs me. Two things more than you do, or would attempt to. So, console me. Otherwise, hold me. Just when it seems like everything's evened out, and the balance seems serene...

-Trouble loves me. Walks beside me. To chide me. Not to guide me. It's still much more than you'll do.

-Go to waste in the wrong arms. Still running 'round. Trouble loves me. Seeks and finds me. To charlatanize me, which is only as it should be. Oh, please fulfill me. Otherwise, kill me.

-Then at midnight I can't get you out of my head. A disenchanted taste...still running 'round.

-Heir Apparent (1996/1997)

-It's all changed. You were there. Departing, starting a trek I had once took. With that "no-one's gonna stop me when I feel this way" look.

-You think it's so easy, I tell you - it isn't. But you may change minds with your winning smile.

-So I tried to make my way back to the station. You were still there, gleaming and leaving. Wide-eyed and awestruck, saying "How can anybody hate me if I love them first off?"

-Heir apparent. You say that you want it, I'm sure that you'll get it. They'll seduce your heart, and then they'll slap your arse.

-The Edges Are No Longer Parallel (1997)

-All of the things you said...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless. And the looks you gave...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless.

-My only mistake is I keep hoping...

-I Like You (Jake/Johnny) (2000-2002)

-Something in you caused me to take a new tact with you. You were going through something I had just about scraped through. Why do you think I let you get away with the things you say to me? Could it be I like you? It's so shameful of me - I like you. No one I ever knew or have spoken to resembles you. This is good or bad all depending on my general mood.

-Magistrates who spend their lives hiding their mistakes - they look at you and I, and envy makes them cry. Envy makes them cry. Forces of containment. They shove their fat faces into mine. You and I just smile, because we're thinking the same line.

-You're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...you're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...this is why I like you.

-Let Me Kiss You (Jake?/Johnny?) (2000-2002)

-There's a place in the sun for anyone who has the will to chase one. And I think I've found mine...so close your eyes. And think of someone you physically admire, and let me kiss you.

-Say, would you let me cry, on your shoulder. I've heard that you'll will try anything twice. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'you'll try anyone twice')

-But then you open your eyes, and you see someone that you physically despise. But my heart is open. My heart is open to you.

-Friday Mourning (2004)

-For years, I warned you. Through tears, I told you.

-This dawn raid soon put paid to all the things I'd whispered to you at night time. And I will never stand naked in front of you, or if I do, it won't be for a long time. Look once to me, look once to me - then look away. Look once to me, then look away.

-The Never-Played Symphonies (2004)

-I can't see those who tried to love me, or those who felt they understood me. And I can't see those who very patiently put up with me. All I can see are the never-laid, or the never played symphonies.

-You were one, you meant to be one. And you jumped into my face and laughed and kissed me on the cheek. And then were gone forever. Not quite.

-You were one, you knew you were one. And you slid right through my fingers. No, not literally, but metaphorically. And now you're all I see as the light fades.

-I Am Two People (2004)

-I love you. It's murder. I am two people. One you know, but don't like. The other one you don't know, but you don't want to.

-I love you. It's pointless. In my soul if I live or die this life.

-I have two faces. One of which you know. The other one, for your sake, I never would show. It's just because I love you. I cannot bear to be around you, and if only one or the other of us would drop down dead.

-You Have Killed Me (2005)

-Pasolini is me. 'Accattone' you'll be. I entered nothing and nothing entered me 'til you came with the key. And you did your best, but as I live and breathe - you have killed me.

-And there is no point saying this again - there is no point saying this again, but I forgive you, I forgive you. Always I do forgive you.

-Life is a Pigsty (2005)

-And once again I turn to you. Once again, I do. I turn to you.

-Life is a pigsty. And if you don't know this then what do you know? Every second of my life I only live for you. And you can shoot me, and you can throw me off a train. I still maintain...

-I can't reach you. I can't reach you. I can't reach you anymore. Can you please stop time? Can you stop the pain? I feel too cold. And now I feel too warm again. Can you stop this pain? Can you stop this pain? Even now in the final hour of my life I'm falling in love again...again.

-I Just Want to See the Boy Happy (2005)

-I want to see the boy happy with some hope in his pale eyes. Is that too much to ask?

-I want to see the boy happy with his arms around his first love. Is that too much to ask? Before I die I have one final dream. For my own life I don't care anything. And I just want to...I want to see this boy happy. Why is this such a bad thing?

-To Me You Are A Work of Art (Jake?/Johnny?) (2005)

-I see the world. It makes me puke. But then I look at you and know that somewhere there's a someone who can soothe me.

-To me you are a work of art. And I would give you my heart - that's if I had one.

-Black Cloud (2007)

-The one I love is standing near. The one I love is everywhere. I can woo you. I can amuse you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud. The one I love roosts in the mind. Can snap this spell, or increase hell. I can chase you, and I can catch you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine.

-I play the game of favorites now. I can, I must. I will, I do. I can please you, or I can freeze you out, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud, black cloud...I can choke myself to please you, and I can sink much lower than usual. But there's nothing I can do to make you mine.

-Sorry Doesn't Help (2007)

-Sorries pour out of you. All wide-eyed simple smiles. Certain to see you through like a QC full of fake humility. You say: "Oh, please forgive..." You say: "Oh, live and let live..." But sorry doesn't help us, and sorry will not save us, and sorry will not bring my teen years back to me any time soon. Forced back, it springs right out. Seasoned, you have no doubts. You lied about the lies that you told - which is the full extent of what being you is all about.

-Sorry will not bring my love into my arms as far as I know...

-Sorry is just a word you find so easy to say...So you say it anyway. Sorry doesn't help us. Sorry won't protect us. Sorry won't undo all the good gone wrong, my love.

-I'm Ok By Myself (2007)

-Now this might surprise you, but I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your morality to save me.

-Now this might disturb you, but I find I'm ok by myself, and I don't need you or your benevolence to make sense.

-After all these years I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your homespun philosophy. No, no, no, no...This might make you throw up in your bed: I'm ok by myself! And I don't need you, and I never have, I never have.

-Forgive Someone (2010-2014)

-Use a weapon of words, or a fight with your fists. But can you forgive someone? Stand your ground and persist, and be the last one to blink - but can you forgive someone? And if you do...I'll run to you. Betray you? With a word? I would slit my own throat first of all, I will. The black peat of the hills...when I was still ill. See this mess and forgive someone, and then recall if you can...how all this even began.

-Our truth will die with me. Our truth will die with me...Shorts and supports and faulty shower heads. At track and field we dreamt of our beds. In the bleachers you sit with your legs spread, smiling: "Here's one thing you'll never have." Our truth will die with me.

-Home is a Question Mark (written 2003, released 2017)

-I hug the land but nothing more, because I haven't met you. I've wined and I've dined with every bogus music mogul. No sign of you.

-I have been brave. Deep in every shaven cave. None were you.

-If I ever find home...if I get there, would you meet me? Wrap your legs around my face just to greet me.

-My Love, I'd Do Anything for You (possibly?) (2017)

-My love, I'd do anything for you. Society's hell. You need me just like I need you.

-You know me well. My love, I'd do anything for you.

-We all go our own ways, separately in the same direction, and here am I every night of my life always missing someone. I'd like to be rotted out just before I become aware of the pain. The more I wish in my heart for someone less likely they come.

-Never Again Will I Be A Twin (2017) (Possibly?)

-Never again will I be a twin. The operation went well, but the patient died. Never again will there be a smile to wipe off my face once it's too much. In a twin-like realm, in the plastic arts of falling in love, what a joke that was. What a joke that was.

-Darling, I Hug A Pillow (2020)

-Darling, I hug a pillow in absence of you. Darling, I hug a pillow to replace your face. Loving you is a trauma no one else should face, or sit still for. Why can't you give me some physical love?

-Darling, you will cry for me in the years to come. In the hope of a moment that cannot return...thankfully. Why can't you bring figs all pulpy and moist? Roasted in passion and salty in voice? No longer keeping a secret of your secret place.

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