#sad clown club

[sadclownclub-shop]

Hey everyone! Our FINAL rent payment at our apartment is due on September 5th, 2024 and we're still around $300 short! After this we just have a few more bills before we're in a much more stable and secure situation. You can read all about it on our fundraiser page! Please help us spread the word and donate if you can to help a disabled nonbinary lesbian couple find stability and improve our overall health 💜 Thank you!!!

[ID: a pastel pink and purple graphic with text that reads "Mutual aid request! Support Sad Clown Club's move for stability! We’re Kei & Jules, and together we run Sad Clown Club! We can no longer afford our apartment, so we’re moving this fall. In order to put the necessary time and energy into moving while also covering our expenses, we’re gunna need some support! Read our full story & donate at <bit.ly/scc-move>" The graphic features two photos of Kei & Jules together and has a pink background decorated with purple sparkles, hearts, and lines.]

[abhorr]

i'm not good at writing these posts, but these r my dear friends and they need some support right now!! if u have the ability to throw some funds their way it would be very appreciated 💫💗

sharing this post and/or their fund page is also a great way to help these clowns out!

[strixessabre]

Hugs for all!

( Strixes' Sabre )

[various-stormsnsaints]

[dirty-urie]

1 year of the Sugar Soaker music video. (My fav Panic! Video :)

Controversial, but I don’t like the Sugar Soaker MV!!! 😬😬😬 I’m happy that you like it and Happy Birthday Sugar Soaker (I always want to abbreviate it to SS and then I’m like fuck, that’s the nazis, nevermind), but while the cameos are cool and fun, I just don’t like it that much

[gross-goth]

Gotta gotta gotta start posting my art on here regularly cause I know y'all would love it unlike SOME WEBSITES............

[andtheirmoonlight]

“Suddenly everything was feeling, everything was awful, every five minutes, she was on the verge of tears.”

“For parents like ours — moms like my mom and dads like your dad — enough is never enough. They didn't get off their islands just so their kids could be farmers and techs.”

“She felt a longing then for the raucous carelessness of their laughter. How could it be so easy for them?”

“Only if You're Free” by @o-avosetta

[sadclownclub-shop]

Wow I meant to post this so many hours ago but, urgent mutual aid request:

Us folks behind Sad Clown Club have to pay our rent TODAY to avoid late fees, and we're $105 short. If you have a lil something to spare, please consider directly supporting us. You can send tips to AzikaVirus or Glowbot on Venmo or Cashapp, or hit up our Ko-Fi!

Please share to help us reach our goal <3 love u

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

main take aways from Halloween (1978) rewatch:

michael myers is canonically 21??? this bitch should be at the club

*sees tiddies* ***MURDEROUS RAMPAGE NOISES***

that's it that's the movie

outside of the fact that everyone who has sex is murdered by the narrative, this is a surprisingly chill portrayal of female sexuality? these teen girls are horny and actively enjoying Getting It On with their boytoys. no pushy boyfriends sneaking in through their bedroom windows--these ladies are taking the initiative to sneak out and GET SOME. one of them gets laid and then immediately orders her boyfriend to get her a beer. (yes she gets Slashered soon afterward, but so does the boyfriend so honestly, gender equality.) yes the Final Girl is the only one not having sex, but she's not bullied for that, nor are her friends slut shamed except possibly by being murdered by the narrative

actually the only character who is shown being morally condemned on-screen is michael myers. specifically FOR his violent overreaction to other people's sex lives. (people he is spying on). metaphorically, the villain is American Puritanism sticking its judgy nose into other people's business.

aka Michael Myers Is A Republican

but actually the real villain is the doctor. guy's a judgemental, shaming, pathologizing asshole. and he's been in charge of michael's care since he was SIX YEARS OLD? kid never had a chance. i'd go on a killing spree too

also the parents. where are the parents? it's halloween night and all the teenage girls are home babysitting their younger siblings? come to think of it, michael's first victim was his own older sister, whom he killed while she was babysitting him. teen girls are really shouldering a labour burden here. maybe parentification is the true villain

side note: mike commits his first murder wearing a clown costume...which is never referenced again? his 'iconic' costume is a generic mask and wig and jumpsuit, when we coulda had a Killer Clown Michael Myers??? travesty

i like how the Final Girl and her friend casually smoke weed in her car. yeah she's an honor student and her friend is the sheriff's daughter. yeah they smoke weed. so what it's 1978

(to reiterate, mike is 21 and should be at the club. im not saying he shouldn't be rampaging, im saying it's sad that he broke out, tasted freedom for the first time in his life, and immediately snuck back into his childhood home to go rampaging. let's have a remake where he goes to a nightclub and has a few beers. maybe some slutty dancing. then rampage)

oh no he's hot

[emilys-bangs]

kisses, kisses, kisses | e.p

Tags: established relationship, pure fluff, mom!emily, no use of yn, use of petnames

Summary: Your daughter doesn't believe Emily kisses her goodbye before work. Emily finds a way to convince her.

Word count: 1.3k

Emily is sitting at her desk, frowning at her computer when the sound of her phone ringing pulls her out of her misery. She grabs it, the scrunch between her brows loosening when she finds your name at the top of the screen, a picture of you and Eloise smiling up at her and causing her to smile in turn as she accepts the call.

“Hi honey—”

“Mommy!” 

Emily brightens, instinctively lowering the volume on her phone. “Hi Eloise,” she laughs, her eyes dropping to the time on her laptop. 9:43. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“No.” Her daughter says.

“No?” Emily’s brows furrow. Her heart sinks, her brain already working in overtime to find a way to fix whatever it is that needs fixing. “Why not, chérie? Did you have a bad—”

“Mommy didn’t kiss me goodbye.” Eloise interrupts again, the sulk audible in her voice. Emily can almost imagine her pouted lips, the downward slope of her lashes. In the background, she hears your quiet laugh.

The tightness in her chest eases, and she takes in a quick, relived breath. “I kissed you goodbye, honey, you just didn’t feel it ’cause you were asleep.” Emily placates, her frown overtaken by a soft smile.

“If I didn’t feel it, means you didn’t do it.” Eloise says stubbornly. She’s every inch her mother, even at four and a half.

“Bug, Mommy always kisses you goodbye. I kissed you this morning, cross my heart.” She promises to the silence on the other end of the phone. Eloise stays quiet, her disbelief palpable even from a distance. Emily gently nudges further. “Did you know that if I don’t kiss you goodbye, I have a bad day?”

“But…but didn’t feel it.” She whines. Her voice is dejected, and Emily almost sees the shine to her sad puppy dog eyes.

“It’s because you were tired, honey,” Emily hears you soothe from the other end, your voice distant and soft. “Mommy was being careful not to wake you up.”

“Yeah,” Emily confirms. “Sergio can vouch for me, Eloise.” She says, ignoring the dumbfounded look Morgan throws her way.

“Wha’s that mean?” Eloise grumbles.

Emily chews on her lip to stifle a laugh. It gets trapped in her chest; by the time she gets it under control the silence has stretched on too long, and you answer in her stead. 

“It means he can tell you he saw Mommy giving you a kiss.”

Eloise huffs frustratedly. “Sergio can’t talk,” she mumbles.

“I can,” you say, a cheerful tone to your voice as you try to convince your daughter. “I personally saw Mommy kiss you goodbye. She kissed both your little cheeks,”—a giggle sounds through the phone, likely as you pinch said little cheeks—“and your cute forehead.”

“That’s true, Eloise. And you know we don’t lie, right?” Emily says, jiggling her mouse in a zigzag to stop her computer screen from darkening to black. It’s 9:58 now, and she furtively tosses a glance to Hotch’s office window.

The blinds are closed. Good news for her, right?

A low sigh reaches her through the phone. Emily also hears some secretive whispering, the creak of Eloise’s bedsprings and the soft call of Sergio’s attention-seeking meow. Then, “Can I have a kiss now, Mommy?”

The hopefulness in her voice breaks Emily’s heart. She winces, briefly closing her eyes and wishing she was back home with the two of you, instead of in the cold confines of the bullpen.

Nevertheless, she opens her eyes before the silence stretches on, ignoring her teammates as she gives her daughter a kiss through the phone and promises her a real one when she gets home.

___

“Sure you’re going to the BAU, not the club?” You tease as you watch Emily layer on her lipstick. She rolls her eyes and continues to trace it on her lips, careful but firm.

“I’ll wipe some of it off,” she says, capping the lipstick when she’s satisfied. 

“Just don’t kiss me with that clown mouth,” you grin as you follow her out of your bedroom and into Eloise’s, the sound of her heels muffled on the carpeted floor.

“I’m only kissing one person right now,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance as she carefully crouches down next to Eloise’s bed, “and it’s not you.” Emily smiles as she brushes away some of Eloise’s bed head away from her forehead, the bangs she’d insisted on getting to match with hers hanging above her eyes. She gently exposes the soft skin of her daughter’s forehead and leans over to kiss it.

Eloise doesn’t stir, even when Emily’s hair falls against her shoulder. She carries on sleeping, her stuffed teddy clutched in her arm as Emily presses another small kiss to her cheek. The faint imprint of her lips is left behind on Eloise’s skin, physical evidence of Emily’s love. She can’t help herself but lean over to kiss the other cheek too, quietly breathing in her daughter for precious few seconds before she stands up.

The sight of Eloise’s small face covered in kisses makes her crack a grin. “Don’t think she can accuse me of anything now, do you?” She asks quietly as she turns to you. Your arms are crossed over your chest, lips pressed together to hide the smile that wants to escape.

You shake your head, pulling her in by her belt loops and steadying her with an arm around her waist when she stumbles.

Emily’s eyes gleam. “Thought you didn’t want to kiss me,” she whispers, a skip in her pulse when your eyes drop to her lips, “with—what did you call it? My clown mouth.”

“Never believe anything I say at 8 in the morning.” You say just as quietly, giving her a peck before you drag her out of Eloise’s bedroom.

___

This time, when her phone rings around the same time as yesterday, Emily anticipates the caller on the other end of the line.

“Hi Mommy!” Eloise chirps when she accepts the call.

“Hi, baby.” The smile is already there across her lips, matching dimples on mother and daughter cheeks that they don’t try to hold back.

“Saw your kisses,” she giggles.

“Did you like them? I told you I never leave without kissing you goodbye.”

“So y’not gonna have a bad day today.” 

Emily smiles. “I won’t,” she says, and it sounds like a vow. “Now you’ve seen them, you gotta wipe them off before you go to preschool, alright?”

“Nope!” Eloise says. “I’ll keep ’em.”

“Eloise—”

“Well, that didn’t go as expected,” your voice comes through, amused and clear in Emily’s ear.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, her eyes screwing shut. “Please wipe them off.” She pleads.

“I’ll try. She is your daughter, after all, and we know she didn’t get her stubbornness from me.”

“I’m going with Mommy’s kisses!” Eloise chirps.

“She’s going with Mommy’s kisses,” you repeat solemnly.

“She’s not,” Emily says, but even as she protests, her heart slowly starts to grow warm at the thought of her daughter wanting to keep the proof of her love on her skin. Wanting to keep her with her, in any small way she can. “Promise me, babe.” 

Finally, she gets both you and Eloise to promise to wipe the lipstick off—in exchange for more kisses after work. Emily’s shoulders are light as she hangs up the phone, her wide smile growing wider when a message notification pings and she opens up her messages to find a picture of Eloise, happily posing with an impressive bed head, rumpled pajamas, and pink kisses dotting her face.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina

[various-stormsnsaints]

[ferretonfire]

stop no hes not wdym 😥

y’all i just remembered eddie kaspbrak is fucking dead

[mapiforpresident]

Final req: Aitana x reader

team is celebrating the final win and either aitana or Reader gets drunk and confesses their feeling to the other?

Confessions

Aitana x reader

warnings: alcohol

~~~

You liked to party. Being surrounded by your best friends, Pina, Patri, and Cata, meant that right now you really, really liked to party. The private club where your team was celebrating had an open bar and good music, and you were taking full advantage of it.

Having scored the opening goal of the 3-0 win against Lyon, you were currently on cloud nine.

"I'm going to get another drink," you shouted to Pina, who you were currently dancing with. "You want another too?" you added.

"Sure, hurry back, these two clowns over here are getting out of hand," Pina replied as you both glanced toward Patri and Cata trying to do some sort of dance-off while both holding two beers. You were glad Alexia was in the corner with Olga ignoring the rest of you, or you were sure she would lecture the four of you, probably something related to good choices, logical thinking, and alcohol poisoning.

You stepped up to the bar and ordered. While you were waiting, you turned your head and saw Aitana walking towards you, and your breath immediately hitched in your throat. She looked absolutely stunning in her tight dress and medal gleaming around her neck in the club lights.

You had been hopelessly in love with the Ballon d'Or winner for over a year now. You had tried so many ways to get over your crush, but absolutely nothing was working. It had gotten so bad that you took private Catalan lessons just to impress her.

You knew Aitana didn't like you back because you didn't even think she liked girls. The only time she had ever mentioned a partner was a childhood boyfriend. She also didn't really interact with you unless it was in a group setting or at training. Your fellow English internationals were the only two that knew about your crush after they questioned you on why you were so adamant about learning Catalan even though you really only needed to know Spanish to get through training.

You grabbed your drinks and started to turn back towards the dance floor, trying to steady yourself both physically and mentally. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly at the sight of Aitana approaching you. Just as you were about to head back to Pina, Aitana reached the bar and smiled at you, her eyes twinkling under the club lights.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice smooth and warm, sending a shiver down your spine. "Having fun tonight?"

You nodded, smiling brightly, trying to appear as calm as possible despite the rapid pounding of your heart. You really concentrated on not slurring or stuttering your words. "Yeah, it’s been amazing. It’s not every day we get to celebrate a win like this. Your goal was absolutely stunning."

Aitana’s smile widened, and she looked genuinely pleased. "Thank you. Your goal was also amazing."

Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel the heat rising. "Thanks, Tana."

She laughed softly, the sound like music to your ears.

Before you could respond, you noticed Pina waving you over from the dance floor, clearly eager for her drink. You turned back to Aitana, your mind racing for something else to say, something to keep her here a little longer.

"Hey, do you want to join us?" The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. "We’re having a little dance-off. It’s pretty hilarious."

Aitana looked over to where your friends were laughing and dancing wildly. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then shrugged with a smile. "As much fun as that sounds, I promised Keira I would bring her a drink and start teaching her a couple of Catalan phrases."

You tried not to look too disappointed, but Aitana noticed the slight frown on your face after the words left her mouth. She didn't want to see you sad, so she turned towards the bar to order, which you took as your cue to leave. Pina saw you and reached out and grabbed her drink, taking a big gulp. "Finally! What took you so long?"

"Sorry, got caught up talking," you replied, glancing at Aitana, who was now grabbing her drinks from the bartender.

Pina raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t press further. Instead, she dragged you back onto the dance floor, and soon you were lost in the music and laughter once more.

~~~

As the night went on, the drinks continued to flow, and you found yourself getting increasingly tipsy. You tried to focus on having fun with your friends, but every time you looked at Aitana, your heart skipped a beat, and your thoughts became a jumbled mess.

Eventually, you found yourself sitting on a couch, feeling the effects of the alcohol more intensely. Aitana somehow ended up beside you, laughing at something Ingrid had said, and you couldn’t help but stare at her, the words you had been holding back for so long threatening to spill out.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned closer to Aitana, your voice barely above a whisper. "Aitana, I need to tell you something."

She turned to you, her expression curious and slightly concerned. "What is it?"

Before you could say anything else, the trophy entered the room and the music was turned down so a couple people could make a speech.

"Group picture everyone, vamos vamos," you heard Alexia shout so all your teammates could hear her.

"What were you gonna say?" Aitana asked as she turned to you.

"It's nothing important, i'll tell you later."

~~~

It was a while later before people started heading back to the hotel to get a small amount of sleep. Luckily, it was literally across the street.

"Hey, y/n," Keira said, slightly stumbling towards you, gripping onto Laura's arm. "I made some room changes. Laura is going to spend the night with me in our room, so you are going to share with Aitana. I just talked to her and she said that it’s fine and that you can walk back together."

"What about Ona?" you replied, trying to think of an excuse. You were freaking out; you couldn't spend the night in the same room as Aitana. Your heart would beat out of your chest.

"Ona is definitely going back to Lucy's room by the looks of it," Keira replied as you caught sight of Lucy pinning Ona against the wall and making out with her neck in a dark corner.

"I'm trying to help you out here. She definitely likes you back."

"Shh, someone will hear you, and she does not like me back."

Keira just gave you a sly wink and nudged Laura, who gave you a thumbs-up before they both staggered off, leaving you standing there, heart racing, and stomach in knots. You looked over at Aitana, who was chatting with a few of your teammates near the door. She caught your eye and smiled, motioning for you to join them.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over, trying to calm your nerves. You could feel the alcohol buzzing through your veins, making you slightly unsteady. When you reached them, Aitana turned her attention fully to you.

"Ready to head back?" she asked, her voice soft and inviting.

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. "Yeah, let's go."

The walk across the street to the hotel was short, but it felt like an eternity. Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say but knew you shouldn't. Aitana walked beside you, her presence both comforting and overwhelming.

Once inside the hotel, you took the elevator up to the floor the team was staying on. When the doors opened, you stepped out and followed Aitana to her room. She unlocked the door and held it open for you.

"Make yourself at home. I have been sleeping on the bed by the bathroom, but we can switch if you would like," she said with a smile as you walked in.

"No, no, I'll take the bed by the window. I like that one better anyway."

You glanced around the room, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you were alone with Aitana. The room was cozy, with two beds neatly made and a small sitting area by the window. You sat down on Ona's bed, trying to steady your breathing.

Aitana disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, giving you a chance to collect yourself. When she returned, she had changed into more comfortable clothes – a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt – and she looked even more beautiful than before. You felt your heart skip a beat. You don't think you had ever felt like this about someone in your life. Even when you were dating your ex, Georgia Stanway, you loved her, but never felt this strongly.

"So, what were you going to tell me earlier?" she asked, sitting down on the bed across from you.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. The alcohol had given you the courage to start this conversation, but now that you were here, you felt vulnerable and exposed. You took a deep breath, deciding that it was now or never.

"Aitana," you began, your voice shaky. "I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now. And maybe it's the alcohol talking, but I can't keep it to myself any longer."

She looked at you with concern and curiosity, urging you to continue.

"I have feelings for you," you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up. "I've had a crush on you for over a year, and I've tried so hard to get over it, but I can't. You're always on my mind, and I just... I needed you to know."

There was a long silence, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Aitana's expression was unreadable, and you started to panic, thinking you had made a huge mistake.

But then she reached out and took your hand, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "I had no idea," she said softly. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You shrugged, feeling a lump in your throat. "I was scared. I didn't want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. And I didn't think you liked girls, so I thought it was hopeless."

Aitana's eyes softened, and she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "You're right, I haven't been very open about my personal life. But the truth is, I do like girls. And I've liked you for a while too. I just didn't know how to tell you."

Your eyes widened in surprise and relief. "Really?"

She nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Really. I guess we both were too scared to say anything."

You let out a laugh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I can't believe it. This feels like a dream."

Aitana's smile grew, and she leaned in closer, her face inches from yours. "Well, it's not a dream. It's real."

Before you could say anything else, she closed the distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. The world seemed to melt away as you kissed her back, all the fear and uncertainty dissolving into a feeling of pure happiness.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, and Aitana's eyes were shining with emotion. "I'm glad you told me," she whispered. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

"Me too."

That night, as you fell asleep with Aitana's smaller frame wrapped in your arms and her head on your chest, you had never felt more at peace. You drifted off to sleep, planning on taking her on a magical first date after the international break.

[lordofmelancholy]

Modern Timebomb HC:

HC that even in a modern setting, regardless on whether or not the life she lives is "better" and less tragedy filled, that Jinx still has her issues which only tend to get worse when she get's older. As a result of it, she's a bit of a gassed out wild child who while sure is still good at her classes (surprisingly) even though she is one of those funny ha ha clowns, is still very much not into good coping mechanisms which as a result have exacerbated the issues she goes through.

Drugs, booze, multiple sabotaged attempts at companionship and a handful of toxic relationships surely don’t help her cause. And of course seemingly to add a nail to the coffin, is the fact that everybody knows her for the same reasons mentioned, but no one actually knows her. Even her sister doesn’t fully understand her, and that’s sad cause Vi wants to, it’s just hard. So as a result, Jinx basically becomes that one person. Whose somehow still so alone in a crowded room.

However, even with everything going against her, the one constant she tends to always have is whenever she's having a bad night or day, she ALWAYS sneaks off to go see Ekko.

Who knows why it’s always Ekko. Even after so many years even Ekko is unsure why it’s always Ekko. Hell even Jinx doesn't know why, but Ekko for the longest time has always tended to be her safe space. She always finds herself calmer and more in-tune with herself whenever she is with him. That's NOT to say her family doesn't help. But their help just doesn't FEEL the same compared to his.

It’s always Ekko who’s there for her. Who’s there to pick her up off the bathroom floor at some seedy club or some shit. Who’s always there while she throws up everything but her memories. Whose with her during the multiple hospital visits when the “fun” gets to be to much and she over does it. She hates to do that to him of course. She hates to make him sad. He doesn't deserve that. So when they get older she tries to distance herself from him, to put space between them to save him the heartache and trouble. But they always manage to somehow find a way to get back to each other.

(They could never stay so far away from each other for so long.) Its sometime around then, that Ekko was quick to realize, or perhaps he already always knew, that he was her safe place, a soft comforting place to fall. And she fell often, and she often fell hard. . .and he's very sorry he's all she has to fall on now.

But oh. . . he would never have it any other way. . .

But thats not so easy for Jinx to admit. . .

Drugs booze, clubbing. None of it is “fun” anymore because it’s run out the fun for her. She’s literally just doing it for the same reason she started

escape

So whatever you do, Don’t picture jinx on the bathroom floor of some seedy night club. Don’t picture jinx on the bathroom floor bathed under the moody blue of club lights. Don't picture her shaky and sweaty and sick because she over did it again. Don't picture her taking out her cellphone, and going through her contacts and stopping at just one number in particular.

Just one Don't picture her ready to press call only to stop halfway because does she call him?

should she?

She feels like death has keeled over. She knows she needs help, but him? Does she really do that to him again? Does she really wanna put him through that again?

Hasn’t she done enough to him already?

Is it easier to just forget? To leave it be? To make it easier on everyone?

It’s late he’s probably asleep. . .

Does she leave it?

well. . .of course she does

Don’t picture her putting her phone away

Don’t picture her curling up on herself, crying like the mess she is.

In fact, Don’t picture her at all. Cause she’s not so sure if she really wants to be remembered at all anymore

She doesn’t want to remember anymore She doesn’t want to be remembered anymore. And how scary it is that she’s so content with the idea of dying forgotten, dying here alone, that she doesn’t even bother to call anyone as if the idea of it is second nature.

How easy it is for her to just put the phone away. Curl up and let the world go dark. And she does do that. Because it is easy. To just slip away like this. No one knows she’s here anyways. It’s so easy

Or at least it would have been. Had someone not forgotten about her. But of course, what did she suspect? He always did seem to have a six sense when it came to finding her. Knowing when she needed him.

So it really shouldn't come as no surprise to her, that when she wakes up (tragically), even tho she expects to be picking herself up off the bathroom floor of that seedy club right before closing time when the lasting club music throbs her skull into pieces, that that’s not what she wakes up to Instead it's too a breeze instead, and the low thrum of a car's engine and her head lying against the window and all she sees outside of it is the slowly passing amber lights of street lamps. The suns coming up but it’s still dark. And if she turns her head just slightly, and forgets the headache that’s blasting in her brain, she'll see him. And there he is

There he always is.

One hand on the steering wheel, the other on her knee. The gesture is familiar. And perhaps she's too drunk and drugged up to know any better, but she will cry, and she will apologize to him for doing this to him again. And maybe later they’ll argue like they usually do, about how insistent she is that he should just leave her and go on with his life and forget about her.

But for now she’s tired. And she feels his hand on her knee, thumb rubbing her kneecap and she cries and she apologizes and all he can say is

"I know love. . I know"

And there’s no malice in his tone because he does. . .he does know, and he does understand. . . he always did know her better then the others. Perhaps even more then she herself did. And jinx is not sure if she’s happy about that or not.

But for now she'll just sleep in the passenger seat. Sad and miserable and sick But not alone

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 18

wordcount: 8,257

You gasped against Stu's lips before you jerked away. Hand raising to smack him for doing that ahile you were vulnerable and angry and-

He grabbed your wrist before you could slap him. You glared and went to use the other hand before he grabbed that one too. Stu gave you a flirty, coy little grin at having both your wrist in his large hands as a frustrated growl of annoyance ripped from your throat. Face hot and head thumping as you nudged him in the gut with your knee.

“Ugh!-” He gasped. Air momentarily knocked out of him as you barely nudged his stitched up abdomen. You shot up and rushed to the door; Your own hurt body be damned.

You were fucking humiliated! Of course he made this a joke, of course he just liked seeing you riled up, he was the most confusing impulsive god forsaken freak you ever met other than the other asshole in the living room.

“No, wait!” He quickly rushed and blocked the door in a panic. Grimacing with the movement. “Don't.”

You glared, “Move, Stu! I wanted to talk; not you look for an opportunity.”

“Sweetcheeks, please.” He begged.

“No! Damn it, Stu. I'm done. Ya know what? Think whatever you want. If you want to believe I was madly in love or I hated you or I lied or me and Billy are a thing; think whatever! I'm tired of the insults and manipulation-”

“YN!” He pleaded as he flushed himself against the press board door. Still banged up from earlier and from the last few days. “Don't go…Please don't go. I'm sorry, okay? I don't think you're easy, I don't think you're a bitch, I don't think you hate me I-” His voice wavered.

You held your glare as he stared at you and continued his plight. “I'm hurt, okay? I'm just saying shit and I know I suck. I know I'm an asshole and a user and a pervert and a freak. I know it, I do, I know it.” His baby blue eyes bore into you in a rare act of vulnerability as you stared apprehensively back at him. “I use fucking-” His voice caught in his throat as he shook his head, “- Jokes and shit to cover up knowing no one wants me unless I'm the clown.”

You sighed at the dull ache in your chest; the damned feeling.

“Please.” You huffed softly. “You were so popular in school, you had girls into you, you had rich parents that let you get away with murder… Literally. You're rich now with models and acting jobs. Karma definitely does not exist because you have it all.”

His face screwed up and he furiously shook his head the more you spoke. Watery blue his eyes stared at you as he sucked in a breath, “No…No, it's all bullshit. I lie all the time. I just make it seem like I got it all…Sometimes I do, sometimes I'm a sad pathetic guy sitting at home by himself.”

“Join the club.” You couldn't resist saying. I mean, damn. Did everyone think because you paraded around by your old publicist like a circus act that your life was grande? You were so SICK of everyone using you or patronizing you or dismissing you in favor of their own hurt.

You were about to shove past him before he dropped to his knees. You looked embarrassed, unsure and tense as you told him, “Stu, c'mon…Get up. You're gonna mess up your stitches.”

He hugged your waist, careful of your own stitches as he looked up at you. Blue eyes twinkling in the lamp's lighting. “I can't! Please, my life is shit without you. I can't stand the idea of you with anyone but me. Fuck, I'm willing to share even with fuckface if I have to…YN, I have to be involved! I have to have you. I gotta be near you, I gotta-” His voice was raw with emotion as he gripped you tighter.

You faltered as he bombarded you. This felt like manipulation in itself and by God it was sadly working as a sinking happened with your weary heart.

His face screwed up like a sad child as tears leaked down his eyes. No longer a murderer at this moment. That was him. He had so many sides. So many curves. So many masks. You knew he was probably just crying for himself and yet you felt pity. Hell, didn't everyone cry for themselves? You cried for Randy but also poor you. You cried for Dewey not believing you because it wasn't fair to you…Maybe this was Stockholm syndrome? Maybe you were as sick as them? Maybe they finally broke you? But you ran a hand through Stu's dark blonde hair, almost a light brown as it darkened with age. He whimpered and cried against you.

“I'm sick of being last. I'm sick of it.” He sobbed. Hiccuping his words. “I-I want someone to fucking love me!…No one ever picks me." He whimpered as he sniffled. "I'm always last. Always second best to Billy. To everyone. Just the comedy in the background…Even you picked him over me.” He sobbed heavily against you more than you ever heard and it tore at you. The real problem right there. A deep sense of pain that he was never you or anyone else's first choice.

“Hey…Hey, Stu. Stu, c'mon.” You ran a comforting hand through his hair. “I didn't pick Billy over you. I didn't pick anyone. I've been trying to tell you all night, I just found Billy's note days ago and confronted him on the porch tonight and…”

“But you had a moment! You go to him because you're scared of me.” He gave in a low voice, sniffing hard and wiping his tears against Billy's shirt you wore as he kneeled. Just insult to injury right in front of him. “Plleasse…Please Yn…Please let me love you the only way I know how. Please, I don't know how to be good. I don't know how to love. I don't-” He faltered with a cry in his throat.

You frowned deeply. “Stu…”

“YN.” He gazed up at you with teary blue eyes. “I love you. I've always loved you in the only way I know how…Teach me. Please please please don't abandon me. Don't leave me again. I can't take it! I don't want that Hollywood shit or those whores or money; I just want you…You're all I want. You're all I've ever wanted. You're all I fucking have!” He pleaded on his knees with pitiful cries.

You stared down at him, wavering on your feet. Light headed. Sick to your stomach. Throat dry. “Stu…Oh Stu.” You sighed out.

“D-Do you love me?” His lower lip trembled as he gazed up at you. Genuine emotion from what you could see. He was always a hurricane. Happy was elation and anger was rage and sadness was devastation and he flipped through them so easily.

You faltered. What do you do? He really had you cornered here. Your face contorted in your own misery and anguish as a lump formed in your throat. “I…” You gritted your teeth and forced it out. Not much left to lose now. “I do. And yet I resent you. I can't let you in. I can't let you close and you make it so hard…That's why I went no contact. Because I'd let you in if you were near me. I can't have you hurting me and breaking my heart over and over.” You softly whispered trying not to cry.

“I won't!” His eyes lit up and he eagerly nodded through his tears, “I deserve your resentment, I suck! I'm shit! I fucked up your life and I deserve it! I-I do... I'll make up for it.”

“Stu-” You sighed out heavily especially considering how he acted tonight.

“No, I swear. I promise. Give me a chance, give me one damn chance. Please, YN!” He grasped his long arms around your thighs to hug you to him. “I'll be whatever you need just don't shut me out again. I'll change! Please!”

“You have tried but…Stu, I don't know if you can.”

“Then I'll change more; YN PLEASE!” He begged like a dying man. “Please I love you, I love you please-” He babbled.

You just broke. You couldn't fight this anymore. You might go to prison or die or be alone forever. You had no one. Why fight this anymore?

Yes, he was wrong. He was sick. He killed Tatum and Sidney and tried killing you. He was a monster…And yet the more you let him in, the less monstrous he seemed. When does a monster not become a monster? When you fall in love with them...

He seemed more like an immature child throwing tantrums and begging for love and attention and no one hears him than anything. He felt like a creature that doesn't know how to love yet wants to. You've been so lonely…So fucking lonely. Even before all this, you knew how he felt. Dewey and Randy and your family barely made time for you when you spent years trying for them; so fuck it. What more was there to lose?

“...Okay.” You sighed heavily. “I won't shut you out. I won't do that to you again unless you give me a reason. You're already off on a shitty start tonight.” You warned while dabbing your eyes.

He looked up at you and to your disgusted amusement had tears and snot on his face on your damn shirt. “You mean it?” His voice was so high pitched and strained for him.

You gave a reluctant smirk, “Yeah, don't make me regret it, okay? I missed the Stu that came over for spaghetti at my house years ago, not the asshole I talked to on the phone days ago or the guy I saw tonight.”

He looked at you in reverence. “He's gone. I promise.”

You knew that wasn't the case but you sighed and smiled as he forced himself up and to stand you helping him after the injuries he sustained against Jill and Charlie. “Can you stay?”

“Nooo, I shouldn't.”

“No, I insist. You shouldn't sleep on a couch with springs coming out of it. You deserve a memory foam mattress not that bums couch.” He wiped his eyes and you got him a tissue off the nightstand. He blew his nose loudly and joked, “Tissues on the nightstand? Yeah we know what these are for.”

You couldn't help the smirk. The warmth in your chest at not fighting. At being able to slowly lower your well constructed walls. “Stu, people sneeze in the middle of the night, ya know.”

"Pft." Stu huffed. You cringed slightly at him using the tissue to pick his nose and get any runniness out. “Yeah well, he's a miserable guy in his 30's. He's blowing his load, not snot.”

You groaned softly but smiled reluctantly as he rubbed his nose and sniffled at how hard he had sobbed.

“Ugh. That was pretty unmanly of me.” He grimaced.

“Nah.”

“Don't lie to me. It's patronizing. You still have my snot and tears on your shirt…His shirt.” He grumbled the last part.

“Stu, don't start.” You chided but looked down and…Ew. He groaned standing up painfully and got a fresh tissue to rub his wet face fluids off the edge of your nightshirt.

“Yeah yeah.” He grumbled while cleaning it. He gazed back up at you. “Sorry but…”

You sighed softly and wryly smiled, “It's fine. I think we all have been through Hell. Just chalk it up as...Stress.”

“C'mon.” He urged you to the bed.

Despite your best efforts…That bed looked so nice compared to the old smelly couch. He grasped your hand with the gentleness of a Dove rather than a predator. Easing you both to the bed as you grimaced in pain at moving.

“Shit, sorry.” He mumbled as you winced and both of you accidentally got face to face. "My face good?"

You smirked, "Yeah, you're good."

He gazed at you and you at him. His eyes were puffy and hooded as they flickered to your lips before leaning forward. You almost shoved away but damn you were tired. You were emotionally and physically tired and his lips touching yours just…

You relaxed as he kissed you and you couldn't resist it. Years and years of stubborn resistance became silly at this point. You hummed softly and kissed him back.

This was so different than in that garage at his party in 1996…He deepened the kiss and grabbed you. Urgent and hot and desperate and demanding as you faltered. Memories of your first kiss coming back and seeing Tatum's body-

“Ow!” You hissed at him gripping you too tight and too close where your stitches were.

You glared at his smug grin against your face. “Mm, can't you just take it like a good- Ow!” He yelped at you poking his stitches and he grabbed your hand for him to let go with a glare of his own. “Allrriighhtt. Damn.”

You both stared, trying to catch your breath before you firmly told him. “I need time.”

“You've had 15 years.” He reminded you in mild annoyance as he settled back on the pillow.

“Yeah, well…” You frowned and averted your gaze. “I need more.”

He lost his inflated ego and sighed. Nestling a bit closer and pulling the blanket over you both with a groan at using his arms.

“Alright…Alright, I'll give you time baby.” He whispered as he kissed your forehead and laid back down while gazing at you.

Your face felt hot. It was so uncharacteristically soft of Stu and yet not really. He was very openly affectionate, not stifled like Billy. He was just selfish, rude, pig headed, arrogant, immature, sadistic. Yet...

You almost didn't trust closing your eyes. Pillow fortresses between you both the last time you slept together in the same bed…But god your head hurt, your eyes were heavy, you ached. So tired you just closed your eyes as his fingers gently ran up and down your arm. Observing you.

‘Maybe he's just as bewildered as I am?’ You wondered before sleep took you.

‐------------------------------------

You woke up in the middle of the night feeling unwell. Staring right at Stu in bed as you realized you actually did let your guard down enough to sleep…You still couldn't believe it. You both kissed.

But behind the kiss you told yourself you tried to get out of; was the emotional connection to a fucking murderer…You actually still had something for him. After all the horrible evil shit he's done and everything he's put you through. Unbelievable.

You wanted to hate yourself after everything you let him do. The way you let him manipulate you like that. Yet, you didn't have the energy. You felt worn down, exhausted, hopeless. Like you were lost in the dark and the only ones with lanterns were Billy and Stu. How messed up. They could be soaked in blood and poking you with a knife in that darkness, and yet, they had metaphorical lanterns. They were the only things you truly had left. You were just so…So tired. So damn tired of hiding and wanting connection and never truly having it out of fear of the consequences. And so, this one time, it seemed you let your guard down and finally let Stu in.

…Furthermore, your head was frigging killing you.

You just need to sneak out to catch a breath. You needed fresh air to think. About what? You didn't know. But seeing Stu's sleeping face beside you felt too intimate right now. You slowly crept out of Billy's bed, the old mattress creaking with your movements. Stu stirred and you stiffened a bit. Your sore body pounding and heavy as you waited to see what he might do. You watched him resettle in bed, dozing back to slumber and you tiptoed out of there. Barely shutting the cheap door and shuffling slowly across the shag carpet. You went down the hall, past the open living room and to the front door-

“Where do you think you're going?”

You paused hearing his voice. Sighing to yourself because of course he was up.

“Just getting fresh air.” You said not even looking at him.

“Yeah? Not leaving are you?” He mumbled sitting in that chair and with a grunt of pain to stand.

You looked over your shoulder at the blunt question, “...No.”

“You better not.” He warned as he stood. “There's no way you're leaving me here with that nut job. You can't just fuck a crazy killer that's been obsessed with you since High School then leave thinking he won't go apeshit.”

You scoffed with narrowed eyes. “I did not.” You grumbled not nearly as vehemently as you normally would be.

He held up a hand, “Ah ah. I don't care.” But he did eye you for a moment. “...Did he force you or hurt you or anything? Not that I care just trying to figure shit out is all.” He asked quietly, averting his eyes. “Lots of commotion. I was waiting for you to scream or something and me have to save your ass, as usual.” He shrugged looking away with a grumpy expression.

“No…Besides, I'd fight him the way I did you both at Windsor. Stuff of yours would've gotten broken and I could handle myself.” You reluctantly mumbled with a wry smile knowing you were blowing smoke.

Billy smirked whether at your false bravado or the sick memory of kissing you and almost taking advantage of you backstage at college; it was unclear.

Regardless, he simply lost the wavering smirk and nodded, “Alright. Just don't go running off. I mean it, I will drag you back here kicking and screaming.”

You huffed softly while turning to look at him fully, “Why? Scared I'd go to the cops?” You couldn't help jeering.

“That.” He got a bit closer. “And it's just…Not what you should do. We aren't hurting you and whether we like it or not we need to stick close to avoid cops. I gotta keep you alive to possibly kill you one day.”

There was silence before you mumbled, “Is that the only reason? That goal of yours?”

“Don't be such a freak.” Billy scoffed, “Yeah? The Hell you think I'd miss you or something? Please.”

You rolled your eyes at how damn defensive he got but stayed quiet as he continued.

“- But Stu would definitely go ballistic if you left and I mean after everything I'd hoped you wouldn't abandon me with him in that state.” He shrugged looking away.

“Oh no worries, I won't abandon the guy that's wanting to off me one day.” You sarcastically quipped. You watched him. The air still awkward after the fight and letter reveal but released air through your nostrils you didn't know you were holding in. “Jesus, stop bugging out on me. I'm not leaving. Just need fresh air…” You hugged yourself. “I'm cold. Hoping outside will be warmer, I guess.”

Billy blinked and looked at you. “Cold? You don't look it…In fact, you look like shit. Like you ran a marathon or something. How hard did you ride him in my bed?”

“Shut up and bite me.” You grumbled with an eyeroll. “I told you we didn't. I just don't feel good…Like, at all.” You stiffened as he felt your face out of nowhere.

You stared in wide eyed shock and despite yourself you seemed to memorize his hand. The slight roughness and his more masculine hand on your soft face compared to when you were teenagers. You dare say you relished it. Almost closing your eyes and untensing at his touch…God, how lonely have you gotten?

His brows furrowed, “Damn woman, you're burning up... Get to the couch.” He guided you; not taking no for an answer.

“Hey, what-”

“Shut up.” He ordered in a rushed mumble. Sitting you down and lifting your shirt. You went to fight him, taken aback but stopped the knee jerk reaction as you remembered your stitches, the soreness a stark reminder. His reaction alone made any protest die in your throat as he turned on a lamp then shot up cursing, “Son of a-”

“W-What?” You asked. A feeling of trepidation at his reaction creeping into you.

“Shit. You have an infection. Bad... God damn it!” He cursed, rushing around the best his injured leg and torso could let him.

Your eyes widened. With a pained groan you got up to stagger to the bathroom while he was busy rummaging for things. Your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest and lungs felt a bit more labored than usual. Maybe it was just a placebo to Billy's reaction?

But that hopeful thought died. You gasped as you looked in the mirror at your whole torso, significantly darker and redder than the rest of your body. “OH MY GOD!”

This was bad. You swore you already had body aches and chills but somehow seeing that magnified it. You felt sicker than ever before.

Billy was rushing about looking through cabinets and cussing, “Damn it.” He hissed as he went to his room and pounded on his bedroom door. “Stu, get up!”

You didn't stop him. Unsure what to do…You could die within a day like this. Maybe sooner.

————————————

Stu and Billy sat around you as you shivered and held a blanket to yourself. Almost spacing out and dissociating.

“...This is so bad, man.” Stu mumbled with his elbows on his knees the best he could with his injuries.

“Yeah it is. Sepsis is setting in.” Billy ran a hand over his head.

You had been watching Stu and he looked clammy too if you were being honest. Billy was the only one that seemed more tired than anything.

“What are we gonna do? She'll die!” Stu urged.

“I don't know.” Billy's leg shook as he tried to think.

Stu demanded, “Do we rob a damn pharmacy?! Do we find a fucking drug dealer? What the hell do we do?-”

“I don't know, damn it!” Billy snapped back. Grabbing at his now short dark hair as Stu seemed to have definitely got over his bitterness earlier.

Stu looked at you, almost doting on you with a worried look. “Sweetcheeks, why did you wait? You should've said something right away!”

“I didn't, I took…The pills um…I took the pills like I was supposed to…Didn't feel this sick.” Even forming thoughts to words was hard. You should have told him ‘I would have but someone was being dramatic and fist fighting’ but you were too tired to even do that.

Billy shook his head with a tense expression. “She's gonna fucking die.”

“No shit, dick!” Stu smacked the coffee table.

“Well, she is! No fucking fish or horse antibiotics or even human pills are gonna help her now that's in her bloodstream like that.” He leaned against the wall clutching his face.

“Then give her all of what we have. Damn it, screw me, man! Just give them so we aren't dumping her in a ditch like this. She was supposed to die by OUR hands; not infection!”

You gave him a side eye but stayed quiet.

Billy groaned, “Are you listening? It's in her blood. Pills are not gonna work and she'll probably just puke them up.”

Stu looked at you as you shuddered at how cold you were. “...She's gotta go to an ER. She has to. Get an IV or whatever. She's not dying like this. Not right now.”

“And they'll nab her.” Billy gave helplessly as he smacked his head lightly trying to think. “They'll arrest her and hunt for us.”

“Then screw it!” Stu was sweating and looking tense. “I'll turn myself in. Screw it.”

That snapped you out of it a bit. “What?” You hoarsely mumbled, “N-No. No you're not…”

“You're gonna die.” Stu glared down at you as he hissed it out. “You're gonna fucking die if you don't get to a hospital soon. If I turn myself in and just claim I kidnapped you and-”

“No.” You protested. in a strained, tired voice. Even breathing feels labored. “You're not-”

Stu looked eye level with you as you sat. “I made sure you survived all this time despite everything. You aren't dying from something as stupid as sepsis.”

Billy groaned, “Shut up! Just think for a second and don't be so damn impulsive-”

“WE DON'T HAVE SECONDS!” Stu yelled.

As if on cue, you felt something coming up and quickly leaned over to the wastebasket beside the couch. Gagging and groaning in pain as you puked.

“Oh great. She just upchucked all the medication.” Billy grunted and rolled his lips in thought, “If we get her to a hospital and get out…Like a tiny one…One with low security.”

“And will they have what she needs?” Stu urged as he helped steady you.

“I don't know, why are you acting like I'm God here!? I don't fucking know, Stu!-”

“It's almost sunrise, so we need to figure something out!”

Amidst their arguing…The phone rang.

Everyone stopped to look down at your phone…An unknown caller at 5am?

“Don't answer it.” Billy was going to snatch it.

You groaned and sat up more, wiping your mouth. “Wait, maybe…Maybe we should?” You panted out. “What do I gotta lose? I wanna know.”

Billy sighed heavily and pinched his nose bridge. “YN, the fever is getting to you. You're not making sense.”

Stu of all people answered, “Yo, whose this?”

You and Billy stared at him. His eyes widened before narrowing at whatever was said on the other line. He put it on speaker phone and replied, “Yeah…She's here.”

“Good. You're lucky I had a spare of these…Don't you dare name drop or I will hang up and go after the Riley's or maybe those tiny Meek brats so vulnerable and unattended by the grieving widow, hm?”

Ghostface. Not just any Ghostface. Jill. You wanted to know how she got another modulator into what you presumed was still the hospital. Did Dewey ignorantly retrieve a bag or something from her house with it in it?

You narrowed your eyes, holding the blanket close to yourself. “...What do you want? How did you-” You demanded.

“I remember the number? Trust me, I would remember your number YN. Even having to punch it into someone else's cell.” They continued after a pause. “I've been debating this all night. Decided to give you a wake up call before anyone is aware. I wanna make a deal with you. Come back to Woodsboro and we forget this ever happened.”

Billy scoffed, “You think we're idiots?”

“Yes.” The voice bluntly gave. “But more than that; you're desperate. Nowhere to go, running out of places to hide, probably hurting really bad too…Everyone knows YN's face, how long can you hide YN?”

You sobered knowing she was right. Even without infection setting in…Couldn't go home, visit family, travel, go anywhere without people recognizing you. People found you during your court trial over a decade ago let alone now with your face on billboards.

“And besides, you're probably wishing you were in a plush hospital bed right about now hm?”

“Must be nice.” Stu retorted.

“Shut up.” The voice warned. “I'm cutting you a deal but any name dropping or information of locations even over the phone and you can kiss it goodbye. Quickly. Make a choice.”

You were having a hard time concentrating as Billy told her, “Alright, name it.”

“YN comes home to Woodsboro. Tell them Charlie was involved and the two unknowns that Police won't find…That's it.”

Your eyes narrowed. “So, you want me to not disclose the real killer, huh? Forget it. You killed my friend and now you want a deal?”

Stu stopped you from hanging up by grabbing your wrist. “Hey, quit.” He for once was the level headed one in your feverish state. He talked louder, “So, that's it?” He asked the caller. “Just say the only killers were Charlie and two unknowns they'll never find?”

“Yeah. Maybe I'm one of them and calling you right now? Couldn't really tell in all the chaos, could you? It happened so fast. I bet the other survivor couldn't either.” She kept up the act like it wasn't her.

You soured. She was asking you to help her get away with murder.

“She'll do it.” Stu stated firmly.

“Stu-” You protested.

Billy said nothing but didn't seem against it either.

“Hurry. Get here before noon and tell the ‘truth’.”

Billy finally chimed in, “And how did she get out of the hospital? What's your answer to that?”

“It was obvious she was kidnapped, moron. I wonder if she ever even saw their faces?”

This was crazy. She wanted you to go to the lion's den that was Woodsboro and testify nothing but lies and pray none of you got any severe consequences for such a risky action?

“Fine. She'll be there.” Billy agreed and hung up the phone for you.

“How dare you?” You tiredly glared, “I am not-”

“You are.” Billy ordered in a cold no bullshit tone. “This gets us off police radar if you give a false description that matches Jill's.”

“I can't…Damn it…She killed-”

“And you'll be next, idiot!” Stu exclaimed with clear worry on his face. “You're dying and you won't do this because of fucking Randy!? I will drop your ass off at Woodsboro hospital myself at this point!”

“You two are nuts!...It won't work.” You grumbled while your teeth chattered.

Stu's blue eyes narrowed in determination. “Do it or I'll turn myself in.”

“You can't be serious.”

“I am! Sweetcheeks, you have a severe case of sepsis and every goddamn minute counts!” He looked at Billy and told him. “Get us some clothes and your keys.”

Usually Billy gave the orders but it seemed after your kiss; Stu's crush on you magnified and he wasn't letting his obsession with you die. No way, no how.

Billy sighed and walked to the hallway throwing an arm up, “Screw it. It's our best shot.”

You gaped and raised your voice the best you could, “Stop it! I'm not!”

Stu grabbed your arms painfully and shook you, “Shut the hell up. You are!” He practically spat in your face. “You know what? We aren't arguing.” The 6’4 guy just hauled you up to your feet and dragged you as Billy got his keys and some spare clothes.

You protested the whole way trying to grab the door and Billy just effortlessly plucked your fingers free in your feverish weak state. Stu helped you down the stairs the best he could before shoving you in the van's back seat while you groaned in pain. Trembling at the night air hitting you while your face felt hot as hell.

“We're taking back roads so police don't possibly pull us over.” Billy informed closing his door. “If they do? You know the drill.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Stu gave, getting in the passenger side.

“What the hell? Stop.” You weakly ordered not having a say in YOU possibly going to prison too if caught and convicted was infuriating!

Billy turned to glare at you while starting the vehicle. “This gets us free for good. No more hunting for Tim and James if you change our description and say it was two different guys. Billy and Stu stay dead. Tim and James don't look like us. Our new identities are safe. You get treatment, we might get treatment if we get worse in a different hospital, you get away and we get away and all you have to do is say fuck your dumbass moral code.”

Stu added as Billy put the van in reverse, “You think you're being selfish to Randy? The dead guy?” You winced at how callous he was as he continued, “You're being selfish to us, YN. We've done you wrong but we also did right, so ya know what? This is something you can do to clear this and be even.”

Your mind in your feverish state was reeling. Too much at one time.“But…Fingerprints at the scene and…Descriptions?”

Stu added, “Yeah yeah, our fingerprints are in the system. Mainly Billy from the false arrest in 96 but we'll deal with that somehow. After all, I got a fake ID and can get another one…We'll still have to lay low but this throws cops off our tail a bit if we need to get treated at a hospital a few cities over and get out as soon as possible.”

“But Dewey!-”

“Fuck Dewey!” Billy sneered as he drove down a rural backroad. “Dewey didn't listen to you at all. Man looked close to shooting you too if it meant shooting me. He didn't care if you had to flee with no treatment. In fact, I'm sure he ordered a manhunt for you and in his bullshit idea of getting medical treatment behind bars.”

You vaguely realized you kinda had the same view of them in 1996…Was that wrong? Was it right? Your brain feels foggy at the moment to decide.

Stu added, “Whatever him and Gale say? Deny that shit, man. Jill and you agreeing as the survivors that were there are the only things anyone needs. Let's just pray there's no trial from the naysayers.”

“We avoided our faces to hospital cameras and nurses will probably give multiple descriptions of the chaos that night.” Billy huffed, “Should've killed the one bitch we stole the keys from. Damn.”

Stu nodded, “Yeah, just glad Dewey was slow as fuck and didn't handcuff us before we woke up. We were two victims that escaped the same night YN did and even as the killers the cops are hunting; if she gives a false description it buys everyone time.”

“No shit.” Billy looked at you in the dark backseat with his mirror. “It's this or die of infection, YN. Your choice.” Billy gave his fingers clenching and unclenching the wheel tensely.

This was happening…This was actually happening. “But…People saw? What if…I mean what if they describe you both?”

“Change our look and lay low if this doesn't work.” Billy gave.

“Done it before. I think I might do a Slim Shady look. You know, bleach blonde and buzzed?...No?” Stu asked and Billy shook his head. “Well fine then. I'll figure it out.”

“But your movies?” You mumbled tiredly curled up in a shaky painful ball in that blanket in the backseat. “Scooby doo?...Oh no…People are gonna know you.” You felt light headed the more the hour went by.

Billy sided eyed Stu. “What?” He asked the man in the passenger seat. “What's she talking about?”

“Man, she's really out of it huh? Scooby doo? Of all things, why say that? Whew, she is not in her right mind.” He nervously chuckled.

“The movie when you played Shag-”

“YN, you're really burning up girl!” He made a show of turning around to feel your head. “You're delirious!”

Billy continued side eyeing Stu but said nothing.

You knew Stu played Shaggy in a movie, right? You and Dewey, no, Randy that's right…Yeah you watched it…With the kids…

Stu snapped his fingers as your eyes wanted to close, “Ah ah. Try and stay up for now. We're getting there, Sweetcheeks. Just hang on.”

—————————————

That morning the still active Sheriff of Woodsboro got a call and he shot up out of bed and had been wrung tight ever since. Dewey was floored. Absolutely outraged, a very rare emotion for him.

Even more so with his wife trying to stop him.

“Would you calm down!?”

“YN!” He stammered, too upset to form sentences. “She arrived at the hospital this morning! I gotta get there in case she runs.”

Gale pushed him back with annoyance, “You aren't doing that and she's so sick . Where is she running? Huh?”

“I don't know! I don't understand why she came back.” He exclaimed frantically “And you!” He accused her with a pointed finger. “You visited Jill behind my back? Why would you do that!? AND went into our evidence room at the precinct for the case I specifically told you not to be involved in!”

“Because she's guilty, Dewey!” Gale yelled in frustration, hands clawing the air as they argued. “She is the killer and I need YN to cooperate and tell us everything she knows so we can get Jill locked up and do actual justice. If that means her ass too, so be it. Two birds, one stone. But we can't go in there hot headed.”

“Justice is Billy and Stu locked up! Not a teen we have no proof of! Not even…” He yelled but faltered at your name while walking to their kitchen. They rarely argued because Dewey usually backed down. But not this time. Not over this.

“There's plenty of proof!” Gale followed him. “If you did your job-”

He glared at her. That definitely hit an ugly sore spot in him.

“You know what I mean, damn it! You signed off this case because you just gave up and in a few days you're retired. With how you're acting now, you are getting too personal with this case and you're blinded so that's probably for the best…I guess! I don't know anymore!…And where do you come off yelling at me? YOU'RE the one that hid photos of YN and those two from me not just for a whole decade but this recent incident too!”

“Because I know how you are. I know how much you love a new headline, how obsessed you were with the case, and I knew how much you secretly didn't like YN and only liked her for me. You would use it against her without any proof.” He bluntly gave.

“OH! And you won't? I was right too, now wasn't I?” She urged mockingly.

Dewey scoffed and to Gale's surprise; went to the kitchen. Once there, he got out the Whiskey they had in the bottom cabinet collecting dust from no use.

Dewey replied, “That's the answer, huh? Gale was right and Dewey is a giant moron. How dare Dewey be upset that YN lied. How dare Dewey be torn over her involvement. How dare Dewey try to protect liars all these years. We just…Accept it! Billy and Stu got away, YN could go to any hospital and she came here after I gave her ample warning, justice isn't served, people died in vain including our friend…And all you can do is think of a good story to spin about a teen girl-” He humorlessly laughed, rubbing his face with a wry smile.

Gale eyed him, “And is that the answer? Drinking at 10 in the morning?”

“Gale. Please.” He sighed out rubbing his face as he took a swig.

Gale glared, “How about you get up and instead of being upset YN is back you question her and Jill and see who's lying!?”

“Why bother? Billy Loomis and Stu Macher are out there and YN knows it and she won't admit it and there's no way to prove it…Randy's killers got away. Sidney's killers got away. Tatum's…”

He went to read a magazine and Gale jerked it away, “So you're just gonna sit like a bump on a log and scratch your ass and act numb now? You were demanding to go out that door 5 minutes ago!”

He almost pouted, “Yeah well, that was before my wife didn't support me. No one else will believe me either and the one person that should have my back in this can only care about a story.” He took a swig with a bitter tone to his voice.

“You know what? Fine!” Gale groaned in irritation and got her purse, “Seriously, just sit there and drink and feel sorry for Tatum and yourself instead of actually solving what you can at the moment and do something to put this killer away THEN those two pieces of shit!”

He glared and gripped the bottle tighter at Tatum's name being dropped as Gale slammed the front door. He wanted to rush out and argue with her, he wanted to send a nasty text to her at the very least but…He just sighed in defeat.

A pang in his heart because deep down inside he was relieved you were okay yet he was devastated and hurt and angry that you came back and that those two were nowhere to be found. According to Judy you were just dropped off alone feverish and not making sense at the hospital and the hospital couldn't disclose information or go against HIPAA without a warrant or subpoena which they did not have right this moment with no court case in the works but may have to get… Most of all, Jill had suddenly changed her tune that you attacked her by accident thinking it was them…Suddenly, she was happy you were back and swore you didn't attack her on purpose according to Judy?? And she just accidentally got in the crosshairs of you and those two? It was a direct lie that contradicted what he and Gale saw. You had protected Billy and wanted Jill to be shot! Jill…She's lying?

Why would she lie? Why did her story change?...Was Gale right?

Dewey clutched his head with a pitiful whine. He had cried so much his eyes were puffy from crying and lack of sleep the last 2 days. And he felt…Numb. Helpless. He didn't want to see you again because it hurt too much.

————————————

You woke up that evening much more aware while hooked up to an IV dripping, a hospital gown, new bandages. It took a moment to even remember where you were and when you did you laid back with a groan. God no.

“Oh... Woke up, dying star?”

You jolted despite your wounds at Jill of all fucking people in the corner of the room. Her face still injured but healing.

“Reellaaxxx. I know you're scared from the other night but you're safe! I came here as soon as I heard you made it back.” She dipped down and whispered in your ear, “You're so goddamn lucky cops are right outside monitoring us…Or I'd finish what I started by choking you till your eyes pop.”

You sneered, “What-”

“Shut up and listen. I don't have time.” She hissed low for only you to hear. “Our stories have to line up in this last ditch effort…Charlie and those two did all the killings. Repeat it.” You stubbornly faltered, feeling rage just with her near you. You gasped as she pressed on your wound lightly. “Repeat it, bitch. No one is gonna believe your story without mine.”

“...Charlie and…” You hesitated.

“I will go out there and tell them it was you. Then kill Dewey and Gale and Karla and maybe even those brats too and blame it on those idiots; now say it!” She growled out low in your ear; only you two could possibly hear.

You swallowed and scowled, stomach turning at the words leaving her mouth. “Charlie…And…Those two men were the killers.”

“You don't know them. If you were dumb enough to text-”

“We called that night.” You reluctantly gave in. “My mechanic and an unknown I can just label as a friend of a friend I never named. At worst they were…Booty Calls or drug dealers or something.” You gave with resignation and tiredness with such a severe infection.

She grinned, “Oh not completely stupid then. Okay, we don't know them…Repeat-”

“We don't know them.” You closed your eyes and gritted your teeth at your arm practically being twisted. “Dewey has a picture of us at a motel though.”

“Who cares? It's that wash up that failed everyone versus you. Play stupid and say that you didn't say because they were quick fucks and you felt ashamed or some shit. Now hurry up. They were working with Charlie.”

“They were working with Charlie. Two men. Don't know them.” You forced out through gritted teeth.

“They attacked us in the ICU following me when I went to visit to finish us both off. You attacked me thinking it was them.”

You sneered but forced yourself to repeat it.

“They kidnapped you as a hostage but got scared and dropped you off when they thought the cops were getting a hold of them. One has dark hair, a hooked nose, blue eyes and the tall one has reddish hair, a tooth gap and…A tattoo on his right shoulder. Yeah a dragon...They blindfolded you most of the time so you couldn't see.” She made up the lie on the spot like a natural.

You tried to keep up repeating what was important. Hooked nose…Blue eyes…Red hair…Tattoo of dragon on right shoulder.

“You and I tried to fight for each other. Dewey and Gale are liars.”

You were silent and she pressed on your torso. You couldn't even call for help or she'd twist the story to make herself the victim, something the media already spun. “They're liars!...Damn you.” You rushed out in a hiss of pain.

“But bitch, the limelight is mine. You better watch your ass after this because-”

Jill jerked away as a nurse came in and she put on the sweet act hugging you, “Oh God, I was so worried! We all were…” She whispered, “I'm so glad you're safe…Right now.”

You didn't hug her back. Feeling disgusted, enraged, guilty, in physical pain, ill. You almost wanted to just say screw the plan and go to prison for a few years for hiding criminals if it meant she was locked up for life. But then you thought of Billy and Stu…Goddamn it, since when were you attached to those killers?!

Jill pulled away pretending to wipe an imaginary tear from her eye as the nurse smiled. All you could do was replay the information over and over in your head. Anxious, sick with sepsis and eager to just be done with all of this for good. Jill left with the nurse while eyeing you…

This was Hell.

—————————

Gale leaned against the wall as Dewey paced the hospital hall, having decided to force himself to go with her. His leg injury gave him a bit of trouble. Gale WANTED to tell him it was the liquor and lack of sleep or lack of a good diet making it mess up again but kept it to herself.

Judy came out and sighed, “Sheriff, she didn't see two men there. Charlie stabbed her in the backyard while YN went to go find Jill and that's all she knows.”

“Damn it.” Dewey groaned, rubbing his face.

Judy, ever the ass kisser in Gale's eyes, told her retiring superior. Judy's eyes wide and trying to be helpful as she assured, “I was shot by one! I believe you even…Though I'm confused how it could be who you say, Sir?”

“Billy Loomis and Stu Macher!-”

Gale shhed him aggressively and shooed him away from Judy as Judy reluctantly let her. Once Judy was out of ear shot, thankfully getting a report from another Deputy. Gale hissed at Dewey, “Are you insane? Shut up! No one is going to take you seriously or this case if you go voicing those names aloud.”

“Yeah, well it's a fact.” He grumbled. “I'm just glad we got Kirby to a hospital that no one knows she's at but her folks.”

“Because of Jill.” Gale voiced.

Dewey rolled his lips and corrected, “After what happened to Jill… She needs protection.” He pointed to the room and Gale rolled her eyes at her husband.

The ex-journalist debated interviewing the stabbed teen but…No. Her story hasn't changed not even once. Charlie acted stabbed, then replicated Steven Oarth, she went to go help him, he faked it and stabbed her. No names or others she saw. She was clueless and a dead end. She didn't even seem to hint at Jill or YN being Ghostface.

Gale mumbled, “Fact or not, you can't have a damn manhunt for two killers that on record are reported dead.”

“Bodies were never found, the door kicked from the inside, footprints, tire tracks, Tim and James matching-”

She replied, “They'll tell you the house was too destroyed for bodies and yes even bones, door burst open from heat, footprints were from chasing people, tire tracks could've been anyone, Tim and James was only described by YN. Tim vaguely by Randy, ya know, two traumatized teens. One was previously medicated for PTSD induced hallucinations. Oh, and two Detectives that are now dead from 13 years ago that the court could argue had just a vague sight of these men and were feeding into teen hysteria.”

“And us!” Dewey exclaimed in exasperation and desperation. “Why are you acting like you didn't claim to see them at Windsor!? You were on stage and swore to me; your story never changed. We saw them and heard them and talked to them the other night. It was them!”

Gale scoffed, “And who's gonna believe us!? I've been down this road, Dewey! A reporter that lost a case over this years ago and her husband… Who��” She faltered.

“...Say it.” He demanded. Dewey's downturned brown eyes stared at her. “Just say it. Failed. He failed. So much so that he's retiring.”

“More like, they'll try saying…Look, I'm not saying it but I know they will that…He never got over ‘96 and the death of his sister and her friend weighed on him enough that now he's seeing Ghost like YN did-” Gale sighed with an eye roll and followed after him as he stalked off amidst her sentence. “Dewey!”

“Let's just get to YN and Jill.” He mumbled as they both made their way to the car.

[rustycopper4use]

Ok, uhm....I've seen someone make a request for poly Ozzie x Fizz x Reader in which the reader is Blitzø's brother, but I got a better one for you! How about (poly ofc) Ozzie x Fizz x Male Reader who is Striker's older brother? Like, maybe he heard about what happened in greed ring and came to apologise on his brother's behalf and maybe offer his services as bodyguard?

Fizz x Ozzie x Male reader!

sorry I went a little bit off the rails but I hope you like it!!

At the beginning you were close to fizzaroli as kids.

 you first met him at one of his shows, and you would try to see all his shows. And ended up dragging your younger brother striker to them, much to his protests.

  You would spend hours with fizzaroli, him being the only sense of affection in your life. Giving your family’s old fashioned values. His was the escape from it all.

 Your father resented the wasted time spent with some lowly circus clown, he would try every thing to make you to stop seeing him. After awhile he even turned Striker against you, which in retrospect wasn’t hard he idolized him. 

 In the ended up with you sneaking out the house everyday to see the goofy imp.

 However that was until the fire. You had been only been able to talk to him when you actually came to the circus.

 So one day you went to see him, with a small birthday gift you’d be able to pay for.

 only to met with ashes, and burnt remains of childhood memories, it was hauntingly void of life still fresh with smoke.

 And you never heard from him again.

  You left the gift in the remains. It became a regular thing, you’d leave a small gift every year on his birthday.

  A way to remember him, maybe you’d just like the sadness that came with it rather than the bitter empty feeling in your cold aching chest. 

 Or you’re still in denial, waiting for the day he’ll somehow come back and it’ll be some big cruel joke.

  After that you replaced that time with meaningless jobs, helping dad around the farm. 

  While your younger brother took up kill for hire, you would be along aside for protection, an extra set of hands. 

 This new attitude brought a sense of pride to the rest of the family.

 Your relationship wasn’t the same with your less than functional family. You weren’t ever close to your father or brother but, it got even more distant. Opting for only talking when needed.

  One day striker came back from a job beaten bruised, and burned.

 As you fixed him up, he whined about his failed attempt, he brought up an all to familiar name.

 “Y’know that lowlife clown was such a brat to deal with, and his pathetic friend Blizto-“

 “Are you talking about fizzaroli?”

 “-Wait no, Fizzaroli’s alive?.”

 “Look I don’t care if you had a soft spot for that thing, I had a job and I’m gonna go through with it.”

 “You never thought to tell me he was alive!”

 “Of course I didn’t, Dad and I knew you were going to act like this, you became a better demon because of us.”

 “Get out.”

 Striker gets to door before turning back towards you.

 “Im not gonna give up this job because you’ve grown weak.”

 “Oh I know you won’t.”

 He left.

  You weren’t sure what to do now. Striker was a stubborn person, he wouldn’t give up till Fizzaroli’s head was on a stick.

  Luckily for you. you were just as petty as the snake.

 For the next few days you looked for opportunities to work at Ozzie’s. You came across for a listing for a personal bodyguard for Fizz. 

 You got scheduled for an interview, part of you dreaded seeing him again.

 You headed down(up?) to the lust ring. The gorgeous neon lights, against the calming rain.

  The Ozzie’s club was nothing short of a spectacle. And the start to your new life.

  Ozzie was apprehensive on hiring someone with relations with the demon that kidnapped Fizzaroli in the first place. 

 But Fizz reassured his worries, he knew you weren’t like him.

 The start of this job was- not exactly awkward, but there was this weird air around you three. A few weeks in and you’ve finally settled in, you grew comfortable with the duo and life finally felt back on track.

 You still felt guilt for what your brother did, you would always give gifts to fizzaroli as a form of an apology, a better change than what you did for 15 years. You also get into the habit of going above what was asked for even at your own expense.

 Even when Fizzaroli explained he didn’t blame you, it was your brother’s actions after all. You settled for buying him flowers every other day.

  The two would flirt with you, fizzaroli being more bold, knowing exactly what makes you tick and that special spot that makes you melt.

  Ozzie on the other hand, had a different approach. He took on a more romantic strategy, he learned very early on that his voice was your weakness, a few praises and you were a goner. 

 When striker found out he was pissed. His own brother fooling around with blue blood, how did you turn out like this.

 Every time he would show up you always up lovey-dovey just to rub salt in a wound.

  Fizzaroli adored it when you’d get riled up and your southern accent would slip. He would purposely push your buttons lovingly just to hear it.

 Every time Fizzaroli would want attention you’d always make sure to hold his face given it’s the only part he can really feel now.

 Ozzie was the only one that Could cook, and that still didn’t change with you around. Sure you weren’t as bad as Fizz but still.

 Fizzaroli would call you a cowboy (affectionately)