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crimson-calligraphyx · 1 year

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Death is All Around | part IV

This shouldn’t be happening. I should not be standing outside dressed in black, placing a single flower on top of this casket in front of me, saying goodbye to one of my best friends.

I will forever have the sight of Randy bloodied with his head slumped over, shoulder pinned to the tree behind him, that damned Ghostface mask stuck to his chest.

I pulled my jacket tight against me, shivering, even though it wasn’t particularly cold out. I just felt hollow, numb—ghostly, even. Sucking my lip into my mouth to hold my sobs in, I turned around to face Billy and my friends, one lone tear trailing down my face. This wasn’t fair. This shouldn’t be happening; it shouldn’t have been Randy. It shouldn’t be anyone, not Casey or Steve, not my mom, no one.

I walk back over to the trio, the sadness in their eyes making me want to break down more so than I already wanted to. Sniffling, I ran my hand across my cheek, wiping away the tear that found its way down my face before any of them acknowledge it. I know they saw it, but I didn’t want to draw attention to it. Billy extends his arm, welcoming me into his embrace, where I nuzzle my head against his chest and wrap my arms around him. No one speaks, we just stand there exchanging pained glances between one another. Oddly enough, it was comforting, the silence and understanding of the situation before us.

Billy places a gentle kiss to the top of my head, rubbing my upper arm as he does so. I peer up at him, locking eyes with him. They were exceptionally dark today; there was no shimmer, no welcoming warmth in them. Just sadness. Worry. Sunken in and red around the edges from the few tears he let out earlier today. Swallowing, I break the silence with a croak, “I’m fine.” Tatum nods, but I know she doesn’t believe me as she purses her lips together. She closes the gap between us and pulls me from Billy, engulfing me in a hug. She squeezes me for an uncomfortably long time, nearly pushing the air out of me. I swear I could feel her tremble, trying to hold back her cries. She’ll never admit it, but she did value him as a good friend of hers, and I know she regrets all those times she wasn’t particularly nice to him. “I’m so sorry, Sid,” her voice was strong, but quivers. Hearing that causes my vision to blur as fresh tears make their way to the surface. I place my hands on her shoulders, steadying her in front of me. “You can cry, it’s okay,” I sniff, coughing out a small chuckle. “I know,” she whispers, wrenching her eyes shut as she finally lets those tears free that she was holding back. This time I pull her into a hug, resting my head on her shoulder.

I glance up, blinking through my tears as something dark catches my eye in the distance against the pines. I squint, trying to make sense of what it is that I saw—or think I saw, anyway—but there was nothing but low hanging branches swaying in the wind. I shake my head, releasing Tatum from my hold. She wipes the tears from her eyes with the tips of her fingers, sniffling softly as she runs the sleeve of her shirt under her nose. Her cheeks and nose were both reddened, eyes glossed over and starting to become bloodshot. “What’s wrong?” she questions after studying me for a moment. I clear my throat, “Oh, uh, nothing. I just thought I saw something…” I peer over her shoulder again, confirming that there was nothing but trees behind her. “Must’ve just been an animal running by, is all.” She gently pushes her knuckles against my shoulder, playfully pushing before muttering a quick ‘kay’.

“So, whaddya two ladies think about bailing this fiesta and grabbing some grub and having a few drinks back at my place?” Stu slings his arms around our shoulders, bobbing his head back and forth between us as he waits for a response. “Stu! Now is not the time or place—” “A-actually, Tate, I think that’s a great idea,” I cut Tatum off mid-scold. “This has been a hard day for all of us. Maybe a little downtime is what we need.”

I steal a glance at Billy; a comforting smirk stares back at me as he saunters over to us. He replaces Stu’s arm around my shoulders with his, resting his hand on my upper arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He cocks his head to the side, "C'mon. Let's get outta here."

I stare absentmindedly at the movie that was playing on the living room TV, lazily spinning the beer bottle I was holding between my fingers. We decided on John Carpenter's Halloween in honor of Randy, knowing that was one of his favorites; he adored Jamie Lee "Scream Queen" Curtis.

I was in such a fog, not even retaining anything that I had watched. My head throbbed lightly at the temples, my eyes puffy from crying and nose raw from blowing it nearly all day. I keep telling myself that this is all a dream, and I'll wake up soon and have to deal with Randy's enthusiasm towards all the newly released movies he planned to watch in theatre, and possibly convince us to join.

I chuckle lightly to myself at the thought.

"Earth to Sid!" I look up when I hear my name called through the haze just as a dusting of popcorn plops me in the face. I jerk back slightly, shaking my head. "You alright over there?" Stu asks, leaning over to retrieve the popcorn that was now sitting in my lap, popping it into his mouth. "Yeah, sorry," I mumble, bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a swig. "Hey dickhead, why don't you leave her alone?" Billy barks at Stu, shooting him a stern look. Stu puts his hands up in defense, "Sheesh, sorry, man. She just looked like a space cadet for a minute there, wanted to make sure she was coming back to us at some point."

Sighing, I tip the bottle back and finish off the beer before standing, "I'm fine. Please, for fuck's sake, stop asking me." I turn on my heel, making my exit towards the kitchen to grab another drink from the fridge. I hear a low mumble, followed by a distinguished 'ow' from Stu. I pluck a bottle from the bottom shelf and close the fridge, turning around and leaning against it. Letting out a sigh, I bang my head back against the door just as I hear someone enter the room. I briefly glance over, meeting Billy's stare.

"Don't," I bite, twisting the top off the beer and aggressively tossing it into the trash by the kitchen island. He doesn't say a word, just walks towards me and puts a hand on my side and looks directly into my eyes. He studies me, trailing his gaze up and down my tense face, trying to get a read on me.

I breathe in deeply through my nose, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry," I mumble as I let go of the breath I was holding. "It's okay," he whispers, moving his hand up and down my back soothingly. "You have nothing to be sorry for." "I'm just frazzled, you know?" I speak into his chest. "All the stress from this is getting to my head. Earlier today at the funeral, I could have sworn I saw him." "Saw who?" I gulped, choking on my answer. "Ghostface." Billy remains quiet for a moment, still running a hand slowly up and down my spine. I could feel my heart begin to race with anxiety, drumming against my chest, waiting for his answer. Does he think I'm crazy? Did he see him too? Does he know something that I don't?

"Would you like me to take you home so you can relax?" He asks after his momentary silence. I start to calm now that he finally answered as I shake my head, still pressed against his chest. "No, I just opened this," I respond, lifting the beer aimlessly. He chuckles, "Okay. Ready to go back in there with those goons?" This time I let out a small giggle, lifting my head and gently placing a kiss on his jaw. He gazes down at me, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a tiny smile. I break away from his grasp, grabbing his hand and pulling him with me back towards the living room. "I'll take that as a yes."

The room was spinning, and I was laughing.

Okay, so the room wasn't actually spinning, but with the alcohol influencing my vision, it sure seemed like it was. I felt warm, vibrant, exhilarated, and most importantly, distracted. There wasn't a care in the world to me besides feeding myself more booze to keep these feelings flowing. I felt free from the looming darkness that's been consuming me since Randy's passing.

I was currently wrapped up in a blanket with my head slumped against Tatum's shoulder, the bowl of popcorn now in our possession. She was lazily tossing kernels into her mouth, trying hard to ignore her boyfriend who was trying his damnedest to annoy her. By the sounds of it, it seemed to have been working, hearing her huff as she throws her head against the backrest. "Stu!" She finally snaps, "knock it off, or so help me God." "Aww, what's wrong Tatum?" He teases her, promptly poking her in the side. She jerks at the touch, whipping her head to glare at him. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at the situation that was unfolding beside me.

In one swift movement, Tatum stands with the popcorn bowl in her hands, leaving me to fall against the couch cushion. I grunt softly, but right myself to witness what was about to happen. I scoff, astonished once I see her lift the bowl over Stu's head, popcorn pouring over him. She finishes her attack by slamming the bowl onto his head, pushing it down past his eyes so he couldn't see. She let's out a 'hmph' as she folds her arms over her chest, leaving him to sit there with his new hat and mess around him.

I couldn't contain my composure; I was full on belly-laughing.

I turn my attention towards Billy, who was sitting in the lounger across from me, to see if he was witnessing the drama before us. He was leaning forward, elbows on his legs propping him up, dangling his beer between his legs, chuckling lightly. I watch him as he brings the bottle up to his lips, taking a quick sip before returning to his original position. I watch him swipe his tongue over his lips, savoring the taste of his brew. I mimic his actions, licking my own lips while imagining the taste of him infiltrating my palate.

He adverts his attention towards me as if he could sense that I was staring at him. He locks those dark eyes with mine, smoldering. That look electrifies me, shooting this sudden warmth through my body that pools at the pit of my stomach. I squirm uncomfortably in my seat to try to ease the heat that was simmering in me, swallowing harshly as I feel my mouth start to go dry. I watch his eyes slowly trail from my eyes, down to my hands I had been wringing anxiously while Billy practically eye fucked me. His mouth pulls to the side in a devious smirk while he meets me eyes again—he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Why tonight of all nights his actions—which certainly were supposed to be innocent—were causing my body to react this way, I wasn’t sure. But my God, the things I’m imaging him doing to me was not me by nature… I guess I’ll blame it on the alcohol.

“Why don’t we get you home, Sid? You look like you’re ready to leave,” Billy’s voice was low as he stood and placed his half-drank beer on the coffee table. I felt another rush of warmth, this time running up my neck as my heartrate began to pick up from anticipation of what those eyes were portraying. “Oh, um…” I trail off, taking a quick glance around the room; Tatum still hadn’t returned, and Stu was clearly irritated that he was now picking up the mess that he egged on from her. “Yeah, it’s getting pretty late.”

When I stood, the room began to spin again as my brain finally registered just how much alcohol I consumed tonight. I bumped my knee into the coffee table, causing Billy’s beer to topple over and spill. I gasp, quickly reaching for it, only to push it further and inevitably causing more of a mess. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Stu,” I mumble with embarrassment, turning to head towards the kitchen for something to clean up the spill, and immediately bump into Billy’s chest. He rights me, planting a hand firmly on the small of my back. He leers down at me, that same damned smirk playing on his lips. I gasp, feeling myself flush.

Fuck. What is wrong with me tonight?

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Not like this is the first beer we’ve spilled here, right?” I hear bottles clacking together behind me as Stu starts to clean the room up. “You both look pretty sloshed, why don’t you go on up and take my parent’s room tonight?” Billy continues to smirk at me as he winks. “You sure?" "Yeah, man," Stu chuckles, "go for it. You never know with Officer Dewey-Boy. Don't want him bustin' ya, and I don't think Tatum can bail you out on that one." "Appreciate it." Billy cocks his head, motioning for me to follow him up the stairs. I trail after him, reaching for his hand in guidance.

Once inside the bedroom and the door was shut, he begins to loosen the tie that he was still wearing since leaving the funeral, watching me sway softly. Was I dizzy from being intoxicated by the alcohol or was it by the effects of him?

He smirks, slowly closing the gap between us. He places a warm hand on my cheek, running his thumb across my lips while his other hand lands on my hip. I take in a quick breath from the contact. I drink in the way his hands feel on me, how close he was to me, feeling his hot breath caress my lips while his dark orbs penetrate me. My stomach flutters, heat rolling down and pooling into my panties. "What's the matter?" His voice is gravely, seductive. "You're awfully unsteady."

You.

I swallowed as my mind raced for an answer. When I don't come up with anything, he hums with amusement before crushing his lips to mine. Almost instinctively, our tongues find one other, meshing together, savoring each other. I grip onto the front of his shirt, clinging to him, feeling weak at the knees, wanting him closer to me. His hand moves from my face to the back of my head, clawing into my scalp and pulling my hair and aggressively steering me backwards until the back of my legs hit the mattress. I buckle, falling back and pulling him with me. He breaks away from the kiss, now pulling my hair to move my head to the side for clear access to my neck. He places soft kisses on my flushed skin, earning quiet mewls from me. I could feel his smile against my neck, followed by a quick breath as he chuckles. "So," he says lowly, "you gonna tell me what's wrong now? Or do I have to force it out of you?" "H-how do you plan on forcing it out of me?"

He runs a hand down my leg, hiking it up around his hip and ground his pelvis into mine. Feeling the bulge that was growing underneath his dress slacks pressed against my center earns him a louder moan from me this time. "Like this," he jerks his hips into me, his erection pressing just hard enough to feel it against my clit. I bite my lip, muffling the moan that was coming out of me. He grazes his teeth against my neck, nibbling lightly before sucking on the tender skin. I involuntarily dig my nails into his back, scratching down and around his hips, my hands meeting at his belt. He hums, still pressed against my neck as I fumble with the buckle that was holding back what I was desperate for. I manage to unfasten it, only to have him grip my hand and stop me. "Hold that thought." He places a quick kiss against my lips and crawls off of me.

Breathing heavy, I sit up on my hands and watch him with confusion as he sits down on the chair nearby. "Billy," I huff out, heart pounding and aggravation starting to build in me. "What are you doing?" He bends down and begins to untie his dress shoes. By this point, I was fuming--did he really rile me up and pause to take his goddamn shoes off? "I know what you're thinking," he begins without even looking up at me, "my entire outfit is my dad's--he'd kill me if I ruined them." "Really?" I wasn't normally this irritable about this type of thing, but God, I really fucking wanted him right now. Needed him, even. Impatience growing, I stand up and kick my own shoes off to the side of the room and turn towards him. I let out a shaky breath, knowing what I was about to do was way out of my normal character.

I step up a few feet away from him, waiting for him to finish with whatever he was doing. Hearing my presence, he looks up as he places his now untied dress shoes off to the side. I watch as his expression turned quizzical, surely wondering what I was up to. He cocks his head slightly, studying me with curiosity. I keep my composure calm as I slide one strap of my black dress down my shoulder. Understanding flashes across his face, amusement taking place as I continued to remove the other strap from my shoulder. The dress pools around my feet, leaving me in a strapless bra and panties. I smirk, stepping out of the ring of fabric and close the gap between us.

As I fist his tie, he straightens out, running his hands up his thighs. I pull upwards on the tie, causing him to lift his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the air he took in. He brandishes a toothy grin, clearly liking where this was going. “I’m not waiting,” I tell him lowly. I jerk the tie one more time before swinging a leg over his lap and taking a seat. My heart was pounding against my chest; this was taking all the courage to execute this, alcohol surely helping along with this. I roll my wrist, wrapping his tie around my hand and pull to lessen the distance between us even more, to which he grunts in response. I capture his lips with mine, grinding my pelvis into him while he moans into my mouth. I take the opportunity to tackle his tongue with mine, once again savoring his taste. His hands find my sides, fingers digging deep into me as he manipulates my hips into a swivel on top of his erection.

“Fuck, Sid,” he moans against my mouth. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like this side of you.” I giggle in reply, continuously rubbing up against him still. He brings a hand to the back of my head, grabbing a fist full of my hair and yanking my head back again. He nips my jaw, licking a trail over to my ear and latches his teeth onto my lobe, growling. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” he whispers. His breath tickles me, bringing goosebumps to the surface of my skin—his words strike me, coursing through my center and causing more wetness to pool in my underwear. “Then do it,” I demand as I stand up abruptly, removing my thong and flinging it at him. Surprise flashes across his features momentarily while he instinctively catches my panties before they collided with his face. Smirking with hunger in his eye, he curls a finger, beckoning me to come back. He stands to drop his pants as I obey and return to him—I put a hand on his chest and guide him back onto the chair. I go back to my original position over his lap, hovering over his cock since he was blocking me from sitting on it. He takes hold of himself, running the tip through my folds to coat himself with my slick. He teases me as he does so, tapping his head against my clit and causing me to buck my hips towards him. He takes advantage of that, replacing his cock with the pad of his thumb and rubbing against me. My head rolls back, hands planted on his shoulders to stay on his lap. I groan, which only causes him to continue his handywork by slipping two fingers inside of me while still massaging my swollen bud. He continuously curls his fingers in such a way that it forces a deep moan out of me. I could feel the pressure begin to build inside me, bubbling up and ready to explode while I rode myself out on his hand. I feel myself begin to clench around his fingers as my climax was about to hit, only to have him abruptly stop and pull his hand away from me.

I whimper, returning my gaze to him as I pant embarrassingly fast. “Billy…” “Oh, is something wrong?” he teases, placing his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean of my wetness. “I was about to come,” I whine. He chuckles, pulling his fingers out of his mouth. “Congratulations, you now know what edging is." Appalled, I huff, “You’re unbelievable.” “I’m aware,” he winks at me, leaning in to bite my bottom lip. I whine, partly in pleasure of his bite, but mostly in irritation from being denied my orgasm. So, I take it upon myself to pick up where we left off by taking a hold of his cock, giving it a few strokes, which pulls a soft moan from him.

I watch his eyes flutter shut as I lower myself slowly onto his length, adjusting to his girth inside me. I let out a sigh of relief, finally getting what I wanted and loving the way that he felt. I start to rock my hips slowly, relishing in the way his cock stretched me out and stroked against that sweet spot. “Oh, fuck,” Billy moans, opening his eyes to catch my gaze. “So good.” I start to let out a small chuckle, only to be taken over by a gasp as he suddenly tightens his hold on me and stands. Crushing his mouth to mine with one arm around my back and the other hand fisting my hair, he hurriedly carries me to the bed. Tossing me down, he slips the tie over his head and throws it, returning his hands to the top of his button-up. In one swift movement he tears the shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room, promptly whipping it to the floor. Before I’m able to admire his bare chest, he sprawls back on top of me, pawing the cup down from my left breast to expose my now-pert nipple and takes it into his mouth. I gasp, arching my back, pushing my chest closer towards him. “What’s your dad gonna do when he sees you’ve ruined his shirt?" “Who gives a fuck?” He mumbles against me and grazes his teeth against my nipple before tracing it with his tongue.

Fair enough.

While he continues to suck on my breast, he pushes my legs apart to gain access to my sex. Without so much as fumbling, he runs a finger through my middle, landing on my clit. He aggressively rubs the swollen bundle of nerves, making me moan out and buck against his hand involuntarily. I feel his chuckle vibrate through my chest, finding amusement out of what he was making my body do. He takes my nipple between his teeth, devious eyes peering up at me. “You’re so fucking wet,” he mumbles around my breast. I feel my face flush as I bashfully smile down at him, unsure if that was a good thing or bad thing. Judging by the smile that formed on his lips when he released my nipple and slowly brought his face close to mine, I’d say it was a good thing. He plants a quick kiss to my lips before replacing them with his fingers, leaving a trail of my slick in their path. I instinctively lick my lips, taking in the taste of myself—oddly enough, I found it to be quite pleasant. “Good girl,” he growls, slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean for a second time.

Settling in between my legs, he slowly pushes himself inside me, earning another mewl from me. My legs find their way around his hips, crossing at the ankles and locking him in place, urging him to keep moving. He pulls out slowly, reentering me forcefully. I whimper at the sudden deepness—he smirks down at me and repeats his move; I find myself letting out another squeak. I quickly pull his head towards me, bringing his lips to mine in a heated kiss to stop myself from making these noises. A low groan sounds from his throat as he shoves his tongue into my mouth, exploring and massaging my tongue while his hips start to find a rhythm. I find myself running my hands down his back, feeling his muscles flex beneath my fingertips with each movement he made. I dig my nails into his skin while he keeps thrusting into me, earning a hiss from him.

He retreats, sitting up on his knees, palming my thigh and pushes me onto my side. I roll onto my belly as he grabs my hips and aggressively pulls them back, bringing my ass up against him. Without a warning, he thrusts back inside of me, causing me to cry out while fisting the blankets. He continues to pound into me from behind, striking me in an angle I haven’t experienced before. “Fuck, Billy,” I groan out, relishing in the way his cock continuously struck my g-spot. I move my arm underneath me, running my fingertips across my clit, feeling how wet I was, just like he told me before. I run my middle and ring fingers against myself, edging on the climax I could feel build up. It doesn’t take long before I feel the heat spool up and let go, my walls clenching against his length as my orgasm finally hits. As I let out a string of moans, he relentlessly fucks me, never slowing down as my legs tremble and struggle to keep me from completely collapsing against the mattress. “Billy, oh God—” I whimper out, moving my hands onto his thighs in attempt to push him away as I was becoming overstimulated. “Please, stop, I-I can’t—” Suddenly I’m being pulled back by my hair, flush against his chest. “You can, and you will,” he growls almost animalistically. I had no choice but to take it, his strong arms holding me against him while I writhed against him, my legs still struggling to keep me upright. By the time his thrusts started to slow down, tears were pooling in my eyes and slowly trickling down my cheeks.

His strokes became sloppy, his breath load and coarse behind me, while he pulls my head back and to the side. He plants his mouth on mine, panting through his nose as I feel his load shoot in me. He keeps himself buried in me while he kisses me, coming down from his high.

After a moment or two, he releases my limp body, both of us crashing down on the bed in a sweaty mess. He lays on his side, pulling me to him and wrapping his arm around my back while we both tried to catch our breaths. He leaves a firm kiss on my forehead before lowering his gaze to my face, the tiniest lift in the corners of his mouth in a smile. Noticing the dry trail of tears on my face, he takes the arm that was around me and swipes my cheek with the pad of his thumb tenderly. I nuzzle into his touch, humming peacefully, a small smile forming on my own lips. “Sorry,” he breaks the silence, “I couldn’t contain myself. Are you alright?” His voice was so soft, comforting. “Yeah,” I sigh, craning my neck to place a kiss against his jaw. “Good,” he hums this time, giving me another firm kiss on my forehead. “I love you, Sid.” “I love you too, Billy,” I throw an arm around his side, pulling myself closer to him. “Thank you for being here with me.”

|Chapter 5|

#scream #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x sidney prescott #stu macher #tatum riley #slasher fanfiction #ghostface #smut #sidney prescott #DIAA

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contronym-colours · 1 year

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A couple of my past Sona's

These are my bois, some are old and new, made for and from discarded accounts or active ones.

Im currently missing 2 in here, and in total there a 5 sona's, these are old drawings ranging from months ago to years a go.

The first Sona is Micheal in which that's a fake name as thier real names are thier account names, believe me I didn't pick that name bc of purple man. Anyways Micheal is the oldest of the bunch and was originally just a guy in front of his camera like those theroist youtubers who have sprites.

I then forgot about him for a few years, so I remade him basically the same with slightly different colors and ditching the sweater. Since he was the first I gave him magic to replicate Mary Sue/Gary stu overpowered feel usually associated with self-inserts or first oc's(which explains angel/devil wings and head gear).

Originally drawn bright and happy with relaxed eyes and a content smile almost always drawn on his face. A sweater, and hair kinda shorter.

He's now has a sometimes serious, most times deadpan face drawn on with half lidded eyes looking away. Kinda withdrawn from the "camera" of the canvas. Clothing all hued purple and he ditched the sweater, giving it to someone else

Crispy is the second oldest with a name longer then anyone, short, plain like a stickman, and gender is no where.

Originally drawn with no clothes and no green hue in thier eyes, he was a curious lil bugger that's almost always drawn holding something or rummaging around, Unlike his older brother who was never drawn with my oc's he appeared in a few and at the time I thought of him as a self insert more then Micheal, and the appearances more so as alternate universes then canon and eventually I stopped drawing him in my oc's universe(I should mention that I drew him as a few inches tall).

Since at the start he had nothing that's was drawn on him I gave him a belt that held art supplies that he can use to alter and traverse the world.

Now he has Micheal's sweater albeit altered and simplified but still the same sweater nonetheless. He has no belt as he doesn't travel the world in the size of an ant and he can control his art abilities with his hands and has only a sketchbooks pen.

Aperence wise his eyes gotten a bit greener and half lidded with a smile of encouragement and content. He's relaxed and understanding and prioritizes the moment while also acknowledging the past. Push him and he'll beat your ass with paintbrush he makes on the fly.

That is DarkCreamTea, he's been around watching and he wasn't drawn till I decided to make this one account into a sona. I made it implied that he was around for a long while just watching without a form till I made them one. Idk when the account was made but if we're going account wise then they'll be the 3 oldest, if by form then he's the 4th oldest(which is the one I'm going by)

Since they're a special case I made him two forms. His sketch form, which is the base template for making a character and his detailed form the one I drawn which is his only draft. If you want to argue his third form is nothing and is kinda his sleeping but conscious state.

Since he wasn't given a form immediately after making the account, he doesn't fall outta the sky like the first three before them, so he just kinda there listening but nowhere (to me its kinda like an infact growing from nothing but superspeed) till he eventually forms into existence while the gang was away. Since he technically existed before the trio he looks around and leaves in a randim direction. He spots another person a few days on his endless walk looking at the blue sunset.

They're quiet, reserved, and perfers listening over talking. I gave them no eyes or mouth but he still capable of speech, he moves in a polite and formal manner despite not needing to.

#Skwish oc #My account family

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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Half of

Danny Fenton was half ghost. Or something.

No one was quite sure what that meant exactly or if it was even true. A ghost in a pure white suit had announced it during an attack on the town until he was beaten and silenced by Phantom. It’s been three days since then and the nerd hasn’t been at school. Not that Dash was looking for him or anything.

Dash worried, for just a second, that something bad happened to him. The Guys in White creeps had been asking questions around school the last few days. There’d been a noticeable lack in ghost attacks around town, maybe another ghost got to him? What about his ghost obsessed parents? Surely they wouldn’t have done anything to their own kid...

“Think Danny will be in school today?” Kwan whispered nervously, leaning in close to Dash’s side. Talking too loudly about the elephant, or ghost he guesses, in the room got people very forcefully interviewed by the government.

“Why the hell would I know?” Dash grumbled, shaking his friend off to shove his hands deep into the pockets of his letterman jacket. “No one knows what’s going on, Manson and Foley haven’t shown up either.”

“I hope they’re ok,” Kwan said quietly, looking down at the floor.

“Why do you care?” Dash grumbled, harsher than he meant to.

“You and everyone ditched me for Danny when Paulina was dating him, remember? Sam and Tucker were real pals and Danny, well he’s weird but not really that bad.” Kwan said bitterly before his eyebrows twisted in confusion. “That was actually pretty out of character for Paulina to date him now that I think about it, maybe he was, like, using ghost magic to control her?”

“That’s stu-” Dash was interrupted by the usually noise of Casper High going dead silent. He and Kwan shrugged at each other. He saw Star down the hallway, staring at something. He caught her eye and mouthed What is it at her. Her eyes slid back over to the hall before mouthing Fenton back.

“Shit,” Dash couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Fenton’s here.” He glanced over at Kwan, trying to hide his nervousness. “Guess we’ll find out if he’s some sort of ghost freak after all.”

Kwan eyed him for a second, “you know if Danny really is half of a ghost then maybe you’ll want to quit it with the names.” The warning bell rang for first period. “You guys have homeroom together with Lancer, right? Just, I don’t know, don’t make him mad or anything.”

“Man, don’t even joke,” Dash said with a strained smile. “It’s Fenton, what’s the nerd gonna do?”

XxX

Fenton always sat in the back right of the class so seeing him there wasn’t that strange. What was strange was that he was there before the bell rang, not looking sweaty or exhausted or beaten up. Seeing him sitting there with an almost bored expression, casually leaning one arm over the back of his chair. It was eerie, seeing Fenton try to act normal. Dash felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on his head as he stiffly walked by the nerd he usually smacked when he walked by. He thought he felt Fenton’s icy eyes following him as he passed. Dash made sure he didn’t scurry like a wimp to his seat but it was a close thing.

“Class, please stop staring at Mr. Fenton and let us begin,” Lancer sighed, unsuccessfully trying to start the class.

“Do you know the ghost boy?” Paulina asked, slamming her palms on her desk and ignoring their teacher. “Because if you’ve been holding out on me-”

“I mean everyone in Amity Park knows him,” Fenton shrugged. He’d been so chill this morning, like the whole thing wasn’t bothering him. It only made Dash more antsy. He bounced his leg under the desk.

“Can you do anything cool? Like fly or shoot lasers from your eyes?” Mikey asked, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I can do lots of cool things,” Fenton sniffed. “I know a lot about the space program and local astronomy. I draw sometimes and I’m think I’m pretty good. I also have super flexible joints so I can do this.” He grinned a little as everyone squealed when he bent his thumb back so far it nearly touched his wrist. “Of course,” his grin turned into an eye roll, “no one really cares about that only my supposed superpowers.”

“What is a half of, exactly? What that ghost called you?” Dash found himself asking. He almost didn’t want to be heard but Fenton turned to look at him anyways.

“What do you think it means?” Fenton questioned back. Though he had a teasing smirk, his eyes looked dull and dead. Dash couldn’t look at them and ducked his head.

“Alright, alright, enough with the questions. The Fenton’s gave Danny a clean bill of health and allowed him to rejoin class so that’s all you kids need to know. Now, back to what we were actually talking about.” Class continued as expected but everyone still snuck glances at Fenton. He’s not sure what they were all waiting for, him to suddenly turn green or sprout horn or whatever. But Fenton just sat there, still as anything, trying to act normal and it just didn’t fit him right and it was all just. Wrong.

XxX

Dash was relieved Fenton wasn’t in his second or third period classes but they did have the same lunchtime. For the first time since he was skinny, bucktoothed 6th grader, Dash wanted to hide away and eat his lunch in private. But Fenton wasn’t the only one trying to keep up appearances.

“Alright, what has everyone got,” Paulina was whispering to the table by the time Dash was sitting down. “The day is halfway over, someone had to have seen him doing something ghostly.”

“I mean we don’t know how long he’s been like this,” Star commented, flipping her hair as pretense to sneak a glance at the loser trio near the back entrance of the cafeteria. “He could’ve been hiding his for a while.”

“Fenton’s always been weird,” Dale commented with a sneer, stabbing at his beefaroni. “Since day one, he’s been jumpy and clumsy and goes through weird mood swings.”

“Maybe he’s never been normal,” Kwan said with a little frown. Now Dash knows this wasn’t true. He was the only one at the table who’d gone to the same middle school as Fenton. The nerd had talked too much about space and was always tripping over something but he’d been like all the other annoying brats in middle school. Dale was onto something, Fenton had changed once high school hit which means whatever is up with him as been going on for a while. Years.

He suddenly felt eyes on him, a cold, crawling feeling that made his breath catch in his throat. Dash squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a silent sigh of relief as the eyes turned from him. They didn’t return but Dash found he couldn’t eat after that.

XxX

“Dude, did you hear about Fenton?” Victor said in an excited but still hushed whisper as Dash was leaving fifth period.

“No, what did he do?” Dash asked with dread.

“He had gym last period and apparently he’s been faking his loser weakness. He crawled up the rope climb like a goddamned spider monkey and then slid himself back down. Don’t know how he didn’t have intense rope burn from that. He also beat Charlie, Katie and Veronica on the sprinting portion. Must be those ghosty genes.”

“Fenton did all that?” Dash asked, he bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.

“Yeah it was crazy, I thought Tetslaf was gonna pass out,” Victor laughed. “Maybe we should get him to try out for the football team, he’d be a great running back or-”

“Come on, Vic,” Dash laughed but the sound came out wrong. “Why would we want Fenton on our team? He’s, he’s Fenton! Just a skinny, weird little wimp.” Vic side-eyed him a bit before clapping Dash on the back.

“World’s changing, Dash. First ghosts, now half ghosts, it’s all wrong but you just gotta roll with it. All I know is I have 2 years left in this hell hole before I leave this miserable place for Chicago and never look back. I recommend you do the same, after all,” Vic grinned again but it was sharper. “Fenton’s always been your personal punching bag, not every day you learn your victim has superpowers.”

“We don’t know what the hell is up with Fenton,” Dash defended. Vic just shrugged.

“Yeah but he’s always been a freak now we know he ain’t human. Who knows what else he’s hiding?” Vic said with a smug smile before wandering off, giving a halfhearted wave over his shoulder as he left.

Dash stood in the hallway, trying to get himself under control until the warning and late bell rang. Only then, when he was certain he wouldn’t run into Fenton, did he head to class.

XxX

“Should we follow him, see where he goes?” Paulina said, biting onto one of her nails in nervous excitement. Paulie was gorgeous and overall pretty cool but her thing with ghosts sometimes tired Dash out. Now more than ever.

“Come on, that’s like stalking,” Kwan scolded. “Even if that wasn’t illegal or whatever it’s just not cool. They had a rough day today, leave ‘em alone.” That icy chill returned and Dash looked out of the corner of his eye to see Fenton and his cronies walking out of the school.

Truthfully, Dash didn’t think Fenton had that bad of a day. Yeah people were asking questions but he’d side stepped them all, gave non-answers. Other people talked about Fenton’s supposed strength in gym but there’d been conflicting reports, some said he flew up the rope climb, others said he levitated doing his push ups. Dash really didn’t know what to believe. Fenton was just acting, well, like Fenton. He paused for a second, stopped walking before catching up with the group.

Maybe... maybe Dash was getting caught up over nothing. There really was no proof Fenton was this ‘half of’ other than what one dumb ghost said. He thought back to Fenton’s grin during first period; stupid nerd was probably milking his 15 minutes of fame and bully free time. His earlier fear and uncertainty burst into flames until a familiar anger was burning in his gut. Now this he knew what to do with.

“Yeah, well his day is about to get rougher,” Dash heard himself say as he stomped off to where Fenton was smiling tiredly at something Manson was saying. “Hey Fentonio! Think you’re pretty cool with every paying attention to you but I-”

Fenton gasped suddenly, like a hiccup only his breath misted out in front of him cold as a winter’s day. Dash stopped midsentence watching as Fenton’s whole face twisted. His earlier weary but tolerant annoyance that he’d been projecting all day was stripped away. He glared at Dash with an expression that was hard as ice and full of an exhaustion and bitterness he couldn’t begin to understand.

“As payment for being forcibly outed,” Fenton spoke up loudly enough that most of the school yard could hear him. “I was promised a week.” His eyes slowly but methodically scanned the crowd who had frozen in place at his authoritative tone. “Where I didn’t have to deal with ghosts, so I want to know... Who is trespassing on my haunt.”

Fenton’s mouth opened impossibly wide revealing what seemed like rows of sharped teeth. He curled his fingers into claws and, looking closer, his fingernails had indeed become real claws, as sharp and deadly as his teeth. His eyes blazed an impossible, ectoplasmic green and his dark hair developed streaks of white. He was terrifying, monstrous, but he was still Fenton. That feeling that had been eating at dash all day came back full force. Not the realization that Fenton had powers or whatever but that he had been hiding it in plain sight through ghost attacks and bullies and failing grades. This had always been Fenton, they just hadn’t seen. Until now that is.

And now the script had flipped and Dash didn’t know how this Ghost Fenton, who still was the same Fenton Dash had wedgied last Wednesday, fit. A green blob ghost materialized over by stairs, quivering and wailing in some ghost language. It turned and fled, presumably in the direction of the Fenton Portal to escape Fenton’s wrath. Fenton’s glowing eyes tracked it for a moment before he straightened up from his hunched posture and... was human again.

He brushed his hands through his black hair, lazily blinked blue eyes and, when he smiled, his teeth were normal. But Dash had seen, they all had. He’d let them see but to what end, he had no idea. Fenton turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow and another small smirk, just as tired as earlier.

“Sorry about that Dash, I take my vacation time very seriously. You were saying?” Fenton said with a smug lilt but his eyes were still dead and there was a bit of fear in them now. Despite his powers, he still gripped his backpack tightly.

“When your dumb little vacation’s up, Fentionail,” Dash said with a shaky voice. “It’s-it’s back to business, okay? Punches and wedgies and locker shoving. You,” he voice cracked a bit and he fought it down. “It’ll ramp up now that I know you can take it.” Fenton blinked, once then twice before he smiled. This time it wasn’t annoyed or scary or fearful but like the dumb grins he usually gave his dumb friends.

“Yeah okay, we’ll start back up next week. The usual time?” Dash nodded, not knowing what else to say. “Alright, see you around.” He turned to walk away before pausing and turning back. “Actually you should be careful on who you shove into lockers, it can get hard to breathe in there and not everyone can phase out of them. You never know who’ll turn up dead,” he grinned and his eyes flashed green again, “if only half.”

That said, he and his friends walked away, ignoring the stares of the entire school on them. “Oh and it’s halfa, not half of,” Fenton called out over his shoulder. “I’m not half of anything, I’m just a whole me even if the details get a bit complicated.”

“Bye Danny, see you tomorrow,” Kwan called after with a grimace. No one else said anything for a minute until Dash found the strength to move his legs from where they’d been planted. He clenched his fists to hide his shaking and continued his walk home. Everyone else slowly did the same, talking quietly among themselves.

“What the hell was that?” Dale asked in a nervous high pitched voice. “What the hell did I just see?”

“Fenton being a weirdo but that’s nothing new,” Dash shrugged with a confidence he didn’t have yet. But if Fenton could show up to school after being outed and then willingly show them his inhumanity, then Dash needed to up his game. Couldn’t let the nerd be cool or anything. “So what if he glows or whatever, he’s still Fenton. Look I gotta get home, it’s Pookie’s feeding time and he is NOT going to believe the day I had.

#danny phantom #*presses fingers to lips* this is not the story I intended to write #not entirely sure what I did intend but it wasnt this #it started out with danny being outed as half ghost with no other context and ended up like this #i'll clean and edit in the morning but for now #here's whatever the hell this is #I'll fix it in the mornign

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slasherwhxre · 3 years

Text

Slashers' Reaction to: You Wanting to Be Hurt in Bed (cause same)

|| Character(s): Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher

NSFW? 😳 n immature wordplay bc I'm childish.

Michael Myers:

You don't have to tell Michael twice.

Or once, for that matter.

He has a knack for hurting people, surely you didn't think it just vanished once he entered you the bedroom?

Michael would enjoy it more than you do, to be honest. That's just how he is. Plus, aren't you his to hurt? This comes natural to him and so does he.

If he's comfortable enough take off the mask even just a little bit and if the position allows, he likes biting your shoulder.

The bite does draw blood. Maybe you should've asked him to be more gentle instead.

If you want a strong hand squeezing around your throat, you got it. Of course, he knows how to apply just enough pleasure.

His other hand grabbing your waist to steady himself knows no limit, however.

Might check up on how you're doing later on, but usually acts how he does, going on with his days like normal.

Michael's fond of caressing any bruises left on your body. It's a nice gesture, and even a nicer reminder showing him you're his.

Jason Voorhees:

There's little he'd deny you, and this seems to be one of those things.

You try to explain, but Jason doesn't understand how to feel about it.

It's strange, you don't hurt the people you love, he'd never hurt his Mommy and even if the love he felt for his mother and his feelings for you were different in nature, it made little sense. He would only use force and strength to punish bad people after all. Besides, Jason was more than aware what his bare hands were capable of, which was why he was always extra careful handling you, no matter if it was cuddling or more.

In the end he could only warm up to the idea of being more rough sometimes, if it'd make you happy. It did, however, it also lead to a few broken furniture around.

This was far from his favourite way of having sex, but he could perhaps be fine with it every now and then, for your sake.

Billy Loomis:

There's minimal reaction. Perhaps he was expecting this, because Billy isn't really surprised, at least not visibly.

He has zero problem engaging in your masochistic fantasies. Billy will still hold back, only to hide what he's really capable of.

Having almost tremendous amount of self control is kind of his thing, so is playing it cool to make you crave it.

If you realize he is not doing the worst he can, and make the mistake of voicing this, I hope you can take what he actually had in mind.

Feels you up forcefully, couldn't pull his hands off even if you tried.

It should be noted after care is hardly his thing.

Stu Macher:

Out of everyone, you probably shouldn't have asked him. Here's to hoping you'll still stand by your decision at the end of it. As with everything, at least it doesn't take much to convince Stu, so that's a plus.

You came to the right person. Smirks saying those words, right before realizing the unintended innuendo which makes his eyes widen as he puts a hand over his mouth in mock shock. Came, get it, he emphasizes and laughs.

Couple of times you tell him to go easy, it's unclear whether Stu thinks you're just getting into the role or he just doesn't care.

Stu is relentless, yet surprisingly makes sure you enjoy it as much as he is enjoying it, and boy is he enjoying it. He knew you would anyway.

By no means Stu thinks this is how it'll be from now on. He'd rather ask or even be told beforehand. Stu's open to variety of things in bed, more than you know.

He's okay at making sure you're alright afterwards, but it's nothing special.

#slashers #slashers x reader #michael myers #bubba sawyer #jason voorhees #ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #halloween #texas chainsaw massacre #friday the 13th #ghostface x reader #michael myers x reader #bubba saywer x reader #jason vorhees x reader

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vidalinav · 3 years

Text

Stu(died)

Summary: Nesta starts tutoring Cassian in o-chem, while Cassian mostly stares at Nesta the entire time. He has a school-boy crush.

Nessian Modern AU-university setting.

Cassian has never met anyone more perfect than Nesta Archeron. He swears she's come straight out of a book. Fitting, he thinks, since every time he meets her, they’re at the library.

In fact, that’s the only place she’ll meet him at.

He knows of two other places she frequents, two other places that are closer to their respective classes and many other places he suggests for... his own motivations. Nesta only wants to see him in a library. Something about the absorption of knowledge in that tiny brain of his, which frankly sounds offensive when she says it the first time. And the second time. And the third.

I’m your tutor, she painstakingly reminds him. We’re not friends.

Cassian wants to beg to differ. Tries on more than one occasion. He’s known her since freshman year, they have to be friends by now.

But... she’s not wrong about being his tutor.

His problem, Cassian admits, is that he doesn’t like to read. He doesn’t really like to study either, but with Nesta Archeron he finds himself jotting down notes. Not on any subject pertaining to his classes... but in memorizing ever expression she makes, every roll of her eyes as she tells him to pay attention.

Pay attention, he shall!

More often than not she’s donning a grey fitted shirt that says University Printing in orange tiny print. It’s from her second job. Tutoring him is her third. Her least favorite, she says.

Liar, he always wants to say. I’m much better to look at than toner.

But Cassian’s not so sure about that. So far, she only looks at him with disdain and he can rarely get a conversation out of her that doesn’t have to do with covalent bonds or... something or other. He forgets. Cassian only remembers her voice, her hair, her eyes... which defeats the purpose of tutoring and is probably not good for his grades. But alas, Cassian doesn’t find it in himself to care too much.

He remembers just fine.

Sometimes, if they meet on the weekends, she’s too busy to take off her black apron. She works at a coffee shop on the outskirts of campus, and she comes to the library smelling like coffee and Cassian’s sure he’ll focus this time. All adrenaline and caffeine, but then she talks and he’s... listening, but really he only listens to her tone. Such haughty words she huffs, her eyes rolling as if she can’t believe he isn’t understanding after all this precious time.

Are you even listening, Cassian?

He likes when she says his name. It rolls off her tongue and she sneers and he likes that too.

But most days, like today, Nesta Archeron wraps herself in sweaters. All manners of cardigans. And the best thing about her is the way her nose is stuck in a book. Cassian longs to trace her cheeks, pulling the few wisps of hair that falls, tucking it behind her ear. He imagines her blushing as he does it, staring at those well-used pages.

All he ever gets from her is a glare.

Like he’s just stolen her from a world filled with muscles and nervous systems, or whatever people study in human physiology. Her stare often makes him wonder if she’s imagining how his body moves, how he breathes, if she can pull him part and hold his intestines in her hands. He feels like a wriggling rat when she looks at him. A little frog he can’t cut in high school biology without running to the bathroom nauseated.

Cassian loves that look the best, though, so he waves at the girl who glares in her seat. The exact seat she always sits in for these sessions. If he grins more goofily than he cares to admit, well... he’s no less happy to see her.

“What are we learning today, Teach?”

Nesta rolls her eyes as he lays his bag across the table and he shuffles in search of his notebook.

That much noise in a library? He can imagine her saying. Preposterous.

“That’s not my name,” she grumbles out, instead.

“What are you going to teach me then, Obi-wan?”

“Is that why you’re failing o-chem?” She remarks, her nose scrunching in that very sweet, judgmental way of hers, “Watching too much Star Wars instead of opening up a textbook?”

Indeed, she looks at the book he pulls from his bag. It is new, and he hasn’t opened it. Every time he tries, he finds better things to do. Another video on Youtube, or one of his friends suggesting a trip to lunch or dinner... or breakfast. He tries to find numerous excuses on why he can’t open that book. He’s going to study from the slides, Cassian says, from his notes. But whenever he opens his notebook, all he finds is scribbles.

Cassian sighs. He hates this class.

But he swallows down his disdain, “I’ll tell you the truth if you tell me what your favorite movie is?”

Nesta shakes her head, her lips pursing as if she might tell him off in a minute or two. Cassian looks at his watch as if he might time it exactly. A ticking bomb. First the pursed lips, then the stern gaze, then the red face and she’ll blow.

“No,” she announces, “I’m here to tutor you, not entertain.”

“Such a shame since I brought the clown suit today, thought you’d look good in the red nose.”

Nesta blinks up at the words and Cassian holds back his grin.

“You’re weird,” she huffs, taking his book out of his hands and opening it up to the first chapter.

“I brought you something today. To sweeten our time together.”

Her brows scrunch at that, but he pulls the container out of his bag, crinkling and noise be damned. Cassian lays out the cake and places the fork next to the textbook.

“You’re bribing me with cake?”

“Chocolate cake,” he explains, “and not just any cake. This is from the dining hall near South Campus. Best cake in the world.”

“I know the dining hall,” Nesta scoffs.

“Then you’ll know how good the cake tastes.” Cassian pulls the container back towards him, pulling apart the packing for the fork. “But if you don’t want it, I guess I’ll just eat it myself.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it,” she says and he can already see her resolve wavering.

It’s always like this. Cassian bribing Nesta with sweets until she’s gliding her fingers down the text book, one sentence at a time. Quizzing him with flashcards until he can only see double lines and circles in his mind... and that tiny smile she makes when she takes just one bite.

Nesta taps her pencil on the page, distracting him from his thoughts. “This doesn’t mean I’ll take it easy on you this semester. You barely passed biology last semester.”

Cassian scoffs, raising his chin. “That was sophomore me. I’m serious now.”

But then Nesta’s reading off the page, drawing diagrams in his notebook, and he’s only staring at her lips.

Cassian sighs.

This is going to be a long semester.

Tagged: @my-fan-side, @sophilightwood, @nestaarcher0n, @duskandstarlight, @soitsgorgeous, @ekaterinakostrova @swankii-art-teacher, @lordof-bloodshed, @thewhelk, @daisy-in-danger, @highqueenevankhell, @lovelynesta, @sirendeepity, @champanheandluxxury, @ladynestaarcheron, @moodymelanist, @teagoddess99, @spoilersteph, @angelic-voice-1997, @bo0kmaster69, @drielecarla, @generalnesta, @cozycomfyliving08 @arinbelle

Poor boy, he’s going to fail his classes.

Anyway, this is another fic Im sure I’m not going to finish but had an idea for so I ran with it for one scene and probably one scene only.

Bye!

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #university au #vidalinav writes #plot twist Cassian doesn’t even need to take these classes

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johns-prince · 3 years

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I was reading Norman's biography of Mick Jagger the other day and at some point I realized that good old Mick had it BAD for John. They hung out a lot in the Lost Weekend and Mick seemed heartbroken when May told him John had gone back to Yoko. He was so upset that he talked to the press about it multiple times, whining about not having any access to John and that he was hiding behind Sean. Mick wasn't wrong, though. I was just very entertained by his reaction. Then there is this:

"Mick, as a result, had found himself in the—for him—highly unusual position of wanting to see someone but having his every friendly overture rebuffed.

From his sitting room window, he could see the Gothic rooftops of Lennon’s home, and would sometimes act out the part of a spurned girlfriend: “[John’s] right over there. Does he ever call me? Does he ever go out? No. Changes his phone number about every ten minutes. I’ve given up . . .” But there was no disguising how much this apparent indifference really hurt. Once or twice, he put aside the Tyranny of Cool sufficiently to leave Lennon a note with his own current phone number at the Dakota concierges’ desk, but no response ever came."

LOL "John is right over there. IS HE THINKING OF ME?" The thirst was real, you guys. I don't remember Mick being this sad about any of his women leaving him. Me thinks Johnny hit and quit it but someone fell in love, you see.

I agree, Mick sounds like a jilted lover/girlfriend here who just wants to be at least acknowledged. He was seriously upset about the fact that, when John went back to Yoko he knew that she didn’t like him. She thought he wasn’t worth John’s time and was a bad influence. Gotta remember, Mick and John had been friends since the sixties-- Mick was much closer to John then Paul, even.

Also talk about the gall because she was completely fine with John hanging out with the likes of Klein, Phil Spector, and Magic Alex... Like, talk about bad influences-- Phil fucking pointed a gun at John because he liked to freak John out and upset him. She liked these people. She approved of them for John. Yoko isn’t fully to blame, John also holds blame for how he’d treat people and just cut them off [even if he personally didn’t want too] but she encouraged John to cut ties with family and close, old friends just, like that.

I feel for Mick. I honestly feel for anyone who loved John, it did seem trying at times. I mean, sometimes it’s not always easy for me to love John just as some crazed groupie... I could only imagine how intense and, confusing and exciting and, memorable it would have been to know him, personally, and get to love him personally.

I personally don’t think anything serious happened between John and Mick. Kind of like how I believe nothing deeper then just, solid friendship was between John and Stu-- someone he could confide in, who wasn’t just Paul.

Was there flirting between the two? Absolutely, though I find it to be a partially playful joking sort of flirting between friends, and partially with a serious edge to it. Libra’s are natural flirters, they often to do it unintentionally because it’s just, part of their personality. John most likely both an unintentional and intentional flirt, and his male friends weren’t left out on his teasing’s and naughty, playful behavior [specifically moreso open and direct about it in the 70s]

But, I do think you’re right that Mick had it bad. Most male friends of John seemed to have it bad for him, in some way or another. Women and men loved John-- he was rather easy to love, despite how he’s painted and the sort of front he put up. As Paul said-- John was a loveable guy, everyone loved him, and he was right [though Paul usually only mentions everyone else when talking about loving John, deflects onto others at the same time but I digress]

Even men who apparently thought of him a poky bastard seemed to inevitably be drawn to him, and like him [like David Bailey]

He was loved, so, so much.

“The theory is that when John went off to Spain on holiday with Brian, that’s what it was all about - John trying to get his position clear as the leader of the group. Also, I’m sure Brian was in love with John. We were all in love with John, but Brian was gay so that added an edge.” Paul McCartney - Anthology

PAUL: “Well, I’m sure Brian was in love with John, I’m sure that’s absolutely right. I mean, everyone was in love with John; John was lovable, John was a very lovable guy.” [x]

“What did John Lennon see in me? I think outrageousness and being true to myself and not giving a fuck. We hit it off straight away, even though I was in complete awe of him. He was nothing else but kind to me. I never saw the other side of John, the Harry Nilsson drinking side of John, where he turned on a sixpence. I only saw the gentle, gorgeous side of John, and he was gentle not only to me but my parents, my band members, and I just fell in love with him.”

— Elton John [x]

“Nowhere can the caring side of John Lennon be documented more accurately than in his relationship with Malcolm Evans, the very tall and bespectacled man who became a regular as a road manager, along with Neil Aspinall, on the Beatles’ tours. Evans had a magnetic personality and was a favorite with reporters and the women who tagged along. His smile and charm could be deceptive; he would have done anything to protect the Beatles. At one point on the touring aircraft, while traveling from Jacksonville to Boston in 1964, a tired Mal Evans sat next to me in the rear of the aircraft with tears trickling down his face. I asked, “What’s the matter?” Mal answered, “John got kind of cross with me … just said I should go f— off. No reason, ya’ know. But I love the man. John is a powerful force. Sometimes he’s rough, if you know what I mean, man. But there’s no greater person that I know.” I never learned what the dispute was about, but I do know that a few minutes later, a sullen Lennon walked by and embraced Evans.” — Larry Kane [x]

“Sharing a twisted sense of humour and a penchant for mischief, Nilsson and Lennon were natural buddies. It was perhaps inevitable that the LA-dwelling singer would gravitate towards Lennon. Lennon clearly appreciated Nilsson’s edginess and was very likely looking for a male soulmate to fill the hole left by McCartney. For his part, Nilsson’s feelings for Lennon ran even deeper: ‘I really fell in love with him. He was all those things you wanted somebody to be.”

Man On The Run: Paul McCartney in the 1970s by Tom Doyle [x]

“But the acerbic John is the one we know and love, you know, because he was clever with it, so it was very attractive. But, for me, I have more than a slight affection for the John that I knew then, when we were first writing songs, when we would try and do things the old songwriters had done. I slightly regret the way John’s image has formed, and because he died so tragically it has become set in concrete. The acerbic side was there but it was only part of him. He was also such a sweet, lovely man – a really sweet guy. ””

— Paul McCartney, discussing John Lennon [x]

John was a charming man in his own right, charismatic, and funny. Having a good sense of humor is always attractive, and draws people to you. As Paul says, and Elton, John was kind, he was sweet and friendly. He wasn’t always this, Mr. Tough and aggressive, ripping into people with his sharp tongue. He was gentle, he could be gentle, in his own way. Warm, and loving.

He had this ability to just... make you feel like you’ve known him longer then you actually have. Like you have some sort of, special relationship or connection with him-- that you were the only one who was close enough to see underneath his armor, to know him as intimately as anyone else ever could.

Course, this was simply how many felt and wanted to be the reality[specifically men], when it wasn’t, not exactly. They didn't really know the real John, they didn't get to see him at his most sincere, when his beautiful armor was chipped away and he was standing naked and scared. He described himself like a chameleon when it came to social settings, when interacting with different individuals [friends], which honestly makes sense as a Libra [Gemini’s are just as guilty of this]

They got to know a facet of John... Maybe they did get a glimpse of John here and there, but it’s just reality that John didn’t just, open up so easily to people like that. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable, and he had a habit of testing people’s loyalty and love for him [whether it had been consciously or not, I’m not always sure] because of the insecurities and doubt that one day, they’d turn on him or abandon him.

Again, he had this way in making people [other men] feel as if they had an intimate and special connection with him. And maybe they did to varying degrees. John had a way to act open with others, without actually being open and vulnerable, or at least not fully. I’m not sure if I’m making sense lol

Only ones who I think ever got to know the real John, were Mimi(of course she raised him), Pete (friends since they were just peanuts), Cynthia somewhat, May got glimpses and wanted John to be himself and independent... Yoko to a degree (though she focuses on entirely pushing and talking about Brand John Lennon™)

And who I know for a fact did, and does know John the most intimately, deeply, unabashedly, is Paul.

But anyway, speaking of being so very attractive, John was attractive. Like, many women and men found him exceedingly attractive, like this one male photographer who believed John was the most handsome out of the band;

“I think John was the best looking, actually. The refined nose. He never went out of his way to be a disagreeable person. He would be the one to go over and just sit and sign some little girl’s book...”

Harry Benson, photographer who took the photo of the iconic pillow fight and other well known Beatle photos, talks about John. [x]

Then we have David Bailey, who described Paul, Ringo, and George as rather pleasant-- while describing John as being a fucker, a bit poky.

And yet, it was John who David Bailey claimed to like, out of all of them.

“I didn’t like the Beatles – I liked John ... John was a fucker. Paul was always the nicest guy in the world. George, he always seemed full of angst. Ringo always seemed Mr Nice Guy. But John was a bit poky; I liked him.”

-- David Bailey Originally; published in the March 2014 issue of British GO magazine.

That’s honestly the only parts of the interview worth reading, Bailey is sort of a dickhead and clearly seems biased against Paul, and just The Beatles as a band in general, so [which is fascinating. Considering he might’ve been peeved towards Paul ever since John brought his partner along for that photoshoot because he didn’t want to go in alone lol]

Mick did love John, though in what way or in what varying degree, is up for discussion and personal conclusion. Just like how it’s up to interpretation and discussion how much and in what way David Bowie, Elton John, Harry Nilsson, Mal Evans, Billy Preston, and Brian Epstein loved John.

But it’s clear as day that, in my opinion, they almost all seemed to have some sort of man-crush on him. A serious admiration. Harry Nilsson sounded like he was in a bro-mance with John [or at least he wanted to be in one with him]

Course we can’t forget Paul, but we all know that Paul loved John in such varying degrees, it’s truly impossible to label it. They’re soulmates, can’t really categorize the love between soulmates so easily.

Anyway, point of this all; Mick definitely had it bad for John, but then again who didn’t?

#questionsquestionsquestions #john lennon #mick jagger #honestly most of response is unnecessary but I already put so much effort into it lol

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babygirlgalitzine · 4 years

Note

hi as soon as i saw the box in tonight’s ep i had to think about callum and how he would 100% do something like this for ben and i was wondering if you could write a fic where ben discovers the box callum has of things that remind him of ben?? 😢

i’ve built my life around you (ao3)

“What’s that?” Ben asks, crossing his legs underneath him.

The door has only just shut behind Callum, and there's a familiarity of hooking his coat up next to Ben's that makes it feel like home, even at this early stage of officially living together.

The air is cold, although the cold provides a freshness that is creeping in through the barely open window. Outside, it's misty, a miserable grey monotonous cloud cascading over the sky, seemingly never ending. There's no screaming children on the pavement, all joyful and full of laughter, all of them probably tucked up inside to avoid the cold and the inevitable downpour. The only noise really comes from the cars on the square, and the distant market traders too.

Callum's standing, holding a box in his hands. He looks down at it and smiles. "I forgot to bring it, when I moved in." He admits. "Thought I'd bring it around now, before Stu decides to do a clear out and throws it away.”

Ben raises an eyebrow, and puts his cup of tea on the table in front of him, letting it fall down with a soft clatter. "What's in it?" He inquires.

A gentle chuckle falls from Callum's lips and he passes the box over to Ben, who's perhaps shocked when Callum does so. "Go on." Callum presses, and there's a smile on his face, meshing almost perfectly with the pink blush fighting against his cheeks.

Ben opens up the lid with ease, and Callum sits down next to him, sinking into the sofa. He takes the lid from Ben's hand, and places it down on his lap.

"Is this your shirt?" Ben asks, picking it up by the shoulders, holding it half spread out in front of him.

There's a grin on Callum's face, beaming and bright and undeniably full of nothing but love and adoration. "Yeah." He says, but it comes out as a coarse whisper. He coughs to clear his throat. "I was wearing it wh-"

"When we met for the first time." Ben interrupts and there's a shiver that tingles all the way down his spine. He neatly folds the shirt, and before he places it down anywhere, he holds it to his face. "Still smells like you."

Callum chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. "Shut up." He says, as he nudges his elbow into Ben's side. His voice is full of his smile, all light and giddy.

Ben smiles gently and places the folded shirt down on the coffee table. He goes back into the box and pulls out a small rectangular piece of paper, decorated with black ink. "A receipt?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

Callum hums, resting his chin on Ben's shoulder. "Recognise the date?" He asks, pointing it out on the receipt. The ink is already starting to fade on the places it's been folded and crumpled.

"Our first date. First proper date." Ben says, not even having to think for a second about the dates importance for him and Callum. “I can’t believe you kept this.”

Callum just shrugs his shoulders. “It’s uh, it’s important to me. You’re important to me. It was our first proper date - that ended well anyway.”

Ben lets out a soft chuckle and turns his face to look at Callum. They’re just inches apart, and Ben can feel Callum’s warm breath against his skin. “It definitely ended well from what I remember.” Ben points out, and he wiggles his eyebrows which elicits a small giggle from Callum. “I seem to remember us holding hands walking back to the flat, and then-” Ben words fizzle out into nothingness when Callum’s large hand cradles his face, the pad of his thumb tugging gently at Ben’s bottom lip, until finally, finally, Callum’s lips trap Ben’s in a soft and loving embrace. Moments later, when Callum painstakingly pulls away from the touch, he rests his chin back on Ben’s shoulder and they smile innocently at each other. “Yeah, it went something like that.”

“I thought so.” Callum smiles.

“Is there anything else in it?” Ben asks.

Callum nods, and Ben looks back down and into the box. He picks out another piece of paper, this time slightly thicker and a much bigger size. He recognised it instantly, or rather, recognised the drawing instantly. “Lex.” He breathes out, letting his thumb trace over the colourful lines and squiggles created by crayons. “You kept this?”

“Course I did.” Callum admits, looking at the piece of paper himself. It’s decorated with three people, all holding hands. Underneath each person is a name, written in a childlike scrawl: Daddy, Lexi, Callum.

“Was this the first time she stayed over at the flat?” Ben asks.

Callum laughs softly, remembering that weekend, and how tired he was once it was over, after Lexi ran him completely ragged. “Remembered to buy some crayons for her to keep there after that.”

“She couldn’t understand why you didn’t have any already.” Ben chuckles. “I didn’t think she wanted to draw this though.”

Callum grins. “Not complaining about it though.” He says. “I’ll never take this for granted. There’s one more thing in there.”

Ben looks down at the box and lifts it out. “Wrapping paper?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks back at Callum.

“From when you told me you loved me for the first time.” Callum explains.

The wrapping paper is all crumpled, with a tiny tear in the corner, because Callum is always too eager when he is unwrapping presents to take care.

“I thought I binned all the wrapping paper.” Ben says, but it’s obvious that he’s glad Callum managed to keep some of it.

Callum shakes his head. “Nope.” He grins. “I wanted to keep this. I wanted to remember that moment forever. I still do.”

Ben smiles gently, and lets his body fall into Callum’s. “Is that why you’ve kept all of these things?” He asks.

Callum wraps his arm around Ben’s body, trapping him in a hug. His fingers tickle against Ben’s waist, snaking under his shirt. Callum hums. “I kept them because you mean the world to me, and I want to remember all of these moments for as long as I live.”

“When did you get so romantic?” Ben asks, turning his head to look at Callum, watching as his skin turns into a blotchy pink mess.

Callum shrugs. “Probably around the time I met you.”

#ballum #ben x callum #ben mitchell x callum highway #ben mitchell #callum highway #anon #ask #prompt #myfic

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halo-jpeg · 4 years

Note

Could you by any chance, do slashers with a shy, twink SO?

I love this yes!!! I FINALLY finished this, jeez!!! This took a looong time. All my asks all for all the slashers I write for so it’ll take a long time for me to get the content out! Sorry for the wait!

Slashers with a Shy Twink S/O

Michael Myers

He’s a sucker for height differences, so a short guy is absolutely his type. He’d hold you close at all time, sitting you in his lap and never letting you get up.

You’re shy? That’s perfect, who needs to go outside into society anyways? He’d much rather keep you at home where he can make sure you’re safe, so don’t worry about having to go talk to people other than him.

Will protect you until the end of time. He’s super paranoid that you’ll be hurt or attacked for any and all reasons, so he’ll be close by no matter what, making sure no one makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Whether it’s comforting or unnerving to know hes always close by, it’s the undeniable truth. Just shout for him and he’ll be there. Dip momentarily into a quiet place and he’ll be there. Talk aloud, he’ll hear you.

Jason Voorhees

Right away he knows you’re different from other campers. You’re short, fragile, and completely afraid to be out with the other teenagers. You aren’t as overly-confident and obnoxious like they are so that grants you bonus brownie points.

Again, you’re fragile and small, along with the purest babey in the world. The forest is dangerous; even before you know Jason is there he’ll be protecting you.

After you actually meet and get to know each other, he’ll be at your side no matter what, even if trespassers need to be dealt with. If it makes you happy he’ll do whatever you want him to.

He’s pretty shy himself, when he isn’t killing of course. He understands the whole ‘not too keen about attention’ stuff, so he does his best to keep trespassers away unless you want to be with them- until they’re killed.

Brahms Heelshire

He L O V E S Y O U. You are the cutest most adorable little thing hes ever seen and he will 100% love and cherish every single little thing about you.

You’re so tiny compared to this tower of a man and he LOVES to tease you about that, leaning his elbow on your head and purposefully placing stuff just too high for you to reach.

He’ll curl his entire body around yours like some human cocoon and you’ll be stuck there until he says otherwise.

Will always want to have tea parties and is always saying you’d look good as a doll, like his mini-Brahms self. Has scoured the internet for a custom-doll maker.

Billy & Stu

Protectprotectprotectprotectprotectprotectprotect-

Billy likes to tease you for being so small and shy when he’s generally outgoing, and finds it almost weird that you’d go for someone like him. After all, you’re basically polar opposites.

Stu makes you feel loved every second of the day, making sure no one makes you uncomfortable and always asking to hold your hand.

Both boys are so glad to have someone like you tolerate them and their stupidness. They don’t know how they got so lucky.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is a big man, and he loves tiny little you and your nervous personality.

He’s always afraid that you’ll get hurt if you leave the house, so you rarely do, and only when he’s with you, glued to your side like a protective tick.

He’ll pick you up and seat you on his shoulder, carrying you around like a parrot or something. Tommy loves to take walks with you like that.

Any and all teasing from his family will result in him punching them. Hard. He won’t take anything, not wen it comes to you because you’re his S/O and no one gets to tease you >:(

Bubba Sawyer

Another sucker for height differences!! He’s TALL, so he’ll always want to compare heights, seeing if you’re going to grow as tall as him some day. Even when you tell him you won’t, he still has hopes that you’ll grow as big and strong as he is.

No matter what Drayton says you are NOT doing any chores that are even remotely dangerous. If you ever try to help hunt trespassers or use a saw or hammer, Bubba will erupt into a series of panicked whining, and then he’ll drag you away into the safety of home.

Even though you’re so small he still likes to be the little spoon sometimes. It makes him feel even more loved and valued than ever. On days where he’s the big spoon, he loves that too, because then he knows you are feeling just as loved.

He’s shy too, so he knows how you feel!! He’ll take you on walks through the sunflower fields if guests ever come over, or if you want to get away from the shouting of his brothers.

Danny ‘Jed Olsen’ Johnson

Twink? Y E S. Danny is pretty twink-y himself, so you go perfect together. Everything about your personality is entrancing you him.

Will teach you how to use your height and weight perfectly; if you’re short, you’re harder to spot, and you can learn how to walk silently no matter your weight.

Danny is the polar opposite of shy, but he absolutely respects that you aren’t as confident around people as he is. He’s a natural attention whore, so he’ll absorb it all and keep peoples eyes off of you.

Some days where you’re really reluctant to go into public he’s perfectly content with chilling at home with a movie.

Billy Lenz

Will 100% call you Twink. All the time. Every day.

Makes fun of how short you are even though he’s pretty short himself, doing whatever he can do sabotage your daily life while still being convenient for his own- a lot of things are going to be placed just out of your reach.

Shy? Good, you don’t get to go outside anyways. It’s always attic time for Billy, and attic times means him, you, and the rocking chair, much too small for two people.

The ultimate little spoon. Cradle him in your arms or suffer 😡

Leslie Vernon

He’s a very outgoing, loud person; your polar opposite, so he can be a little overbearing. He draws a lot of attention (and loves it all) as well, so you’re often put out when you don’t want to be simply because he doesn’t notice that you’re uncomfortable.

He always makes it up to you with cuddles and love, feeling bad for making you uncomfortable.

Short? Okay. That’s fine, he doesn’t tease you or anything, you’re too good for that.

His favourite thing EVER is planning out his little hunting games. He usually lets you pick out the group (after he’s chosen his final girl, of course). You always think up different ideas than he does.

Vincent Sinclair

L o v e l o v e l o v e

He will cherish every single little thing about you because he’s never seen anyone as naturally perfect as you are.

Models 80% of his wax figures after you!!! There’s a lot of different mini figurines with your features, even if he tries not to let you know that.

He’s so shy, so he doesn’t ever want to go out of the basement. Now, you don’t ever want to leave either, and he loves it. Your personality is so easy to handle, it’s not overwhelming in the slightest and he loves you.

Bo Sinclair

Endless teasing. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this nasty texas man.

He’ll randomly rip things out of your hands and hold them too high for you to reach, laughing all the while.

He can be soft though, and he’s softer around you than anyone else. He’ll cuddle you and tell you how he’ll keep you safe no matter what.

He locks you in your room whenever people stumble across Ambrose. He won’t risk getting you hurt.

Lester Sinclair

You’re just the cutest to him!! Compared to his brothers he’s tiny, so he loves that you are too!

He’ll bring you with him on his work rides, cranking country tunes through his old tinny radio and singing along loudly.

It’s nice and secluded all throughout the work day, so you won’t have to worry about much social interaction.

On the day Lester runs into someone he intends to lure back to Ambrose (like offering a ride) he’ll make sure he takes all the attention, talking non-stop so you didn’t have to talk if you didn’t want to.

Norman Bates

He himself is pretty twinky if we’re being honest. You’d totally click personalities.

He’s shy too, so there would never be the problem of having to talk to other people. The two of you make do with simply being around one another.

He’ll read you books and make tea, along with constantly buying you flowers. He’s so in love with you.

The most gentlemanly gentleman on the earth. Absolutely no teasing from this guy, and he’ll beat anyone who teases you to a pulp.

Pyramid Head

S m o l b o i = p r o t e c t

Super territorial and constantly worried about you. If you ever leave his sight he’ll flip, his anxiety blasting through the roof. He’ll spend hours tearing the town apart to find you.

He’ll pat your head as his main sign of saying ‘I love you’. If he could speak he’d shower you with endless praise.

He’s so big and strong and brutal, but when it comes to handling you he’s so careful and gentle, like two different sides of a coin.

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lunatens · 5 years

Text

felix felicis (i)

word count: 2.5k

part i/iv

genre: fluff, harry potter au

pairing: hufflepuff!felix x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: the drought is over....i’m finally posting again gsdjfhsjfh i hope u all like harry potter! i truly don’t know how many parts this’ll be so i guess we’ll see as we go. also i haven’t read or watched harry potter in a lil while so if some of the rules don’t make sense just ignore them (lol plus i can do what i want)

“you know, you don’t have to be the best in every class,” chan says as he slides into the seat beside you at your usual spot in the great hall. you give him a glare, then continue stabbing at your plate of eggs.

“it’s not the fact that i’m not the best; if someone like seungmin, for example, did better than me, i’d be happy for him! it’s because it’s that stupid felix kid! he never pays attention in class, he rarely studies or does his homework, and he’s always out playing quidditch or visiting hogsmeade or something. he should be failing! not getting higher grades than ME of all people! i don’t know how he does it. i’m in the library like, 24/7, and i take notes in class and i don’t know i just...work harder than him. it’s stupid and unfair,” you rant, ending with an angry huff as you shovel a forkful of eggs in your mouth. chan stares at you blankly for a couple seconds, processing everything you just said.

“you seem a little jealous, y/n,” he comments, and you glare daggers at him.

“i am NOT. i just don’t understand how he, of ALL PEOPLE, was the only person in our class who could brew a draught of peace successfully,” you respond, and chan sighs.

“maybe he’s just naturally really smart. or he’s just lucky. besides, it’s been 2 days since that potions class, maybe it’s time to stop being so bitter about it,” he says, patting your shoulder in comfort. “i gotta go, i’m meeting up with changbin and jisung soon. you coming to the quidditch game tonight?” he says as he stands up and gathers his things.

“i don’t know, probably not, i have to stu-“

“wrong answer, you’re coming to the game. it’s ravenclaw against hufflepuff, you could at least support your own house,” he tells you. chan reaches over to snatch a piece of toast off of your plate, walking away before you can say anything.

“i’ll be waiting for you outside your common room later,” he calls over his shoulder, and you glare at his back as he heads to class. it’s moments like this that make you question your friendship with chan. you finish your breakfast, then pick up the stack of books you’d been reading before going to leave yourself. you make your way out of the great hall, heading back to the ravenclaw common room to grab an extra quill and some parchment (chan always seemed to forget his, and you had muggle studies with him later). you whirl around the corner only to collide with someone so hard you’re both sent flying to the ground, your books spilling over the floor.

“oops, i’m so sorry!” the other person says, and you recognize felix’s deep voice immediately. he begins picking up your books while you sit there fuming, staring at his mess of blonde hair. he stands up and brushes himself off, then reaches a hand out to help you up.

“sorry, i always forget to watch where i’m going,” he says sheepishly. a faint blush grows on his freckled cheeks, and you hate how cute he looks. you swat his hand away, then reach to take your books from him as you stand up. of all people, of course felix had to be the one you ran into.

“how’d you make that potion?” you blurt out; you don’t mean to sound so aggressive in your questioning—actually, you don’t mean to even talk to felix at all, you wanted to just leave without a word, but you have to know how he does so well. felix seems unphased at your bluntness.

“beginners luck, i guess,” he says with a shrug. you squint at him, skeptical of his answer.

“i don’t believe in luck,” you say. “for real, how do you do it? you’re always at the top of the class, but i’ve literally never seen you set foot in the library…”

“i don’t know, i just kind of show up and do my best. the universe must just like me or something,” he says nonchalantly. “you’re y/n, right? i think we have a few classes together,” he adds on.

“yeah, we do,” you reply, your voice cold. how could felix be so friendly towards you when you’ve been nothing but rude to him? his laid back demeanour just irritates you more. “anyways, i have a class to get to. i’ll see you around,” you say, before slipping into the sea of students bustling around in the hallways, leaving felix behind.

chan flops into the seat beside yours, sending an apologetic wave to the professor for being a couple minutes late. you slide your extra supplies towards him wordlessly, your other hand continuing to madly scribble notes.

“oh thanks y/n, you’re a lifesaver,” chan says gratefully. “i got caught up talking about game strategy with changbin and jisung and lost track of time,” he admits.

“mhm,” you mumble, too focused on the lesson to really pay attention.

class is about halfway over, and your professor is droning on about microwaves and various kitchen appliances when a tiny paper bird lands on your desk, interrupting your note taking. you turn in your seat to see where it came from only to meet the gaze of felix, leaning back in his seat in the back of the class beside his slytherin friend, hyunjin (who you’re pretty sure is taking a nap). he waves at you, and you scrunch up your nose at him and turn back around. the paper bird won’t stop flapping around, so you shove it in your pocket to look at it later and continue your note taking.

“can i change my mind? i don’t wanna go anymore,” you grumble as you walk to the quidditch pitch with chan, changbin and jisung. you stuff your hands in your coat pockets, trying to protect them from the biting cold wind.

“it’s just a quidditch match, y/n, it’s not the end of the world,” chan says with a sigh.

“it is when felix is keeper for the hufflepuff team,” you mutter to yourself. you pull out the paper he sent you in class earlier, creases unfolded to display the black ink on the crinkled paper. felix has crudely drawn (what you assume is supposed to be) him flying around in front of the hoops on the quidditch pitch, with you sitting in the stands holding a book. felix has given you a frowny face, and he’s drawn a little storm cloud above your head. underneath the drawing he’s written, in his sloppy handwriting, “you should consider taking your nose out of your books and doing something fun, aka coming to tonight’s quidditch game ;-).”

“ooh, who’s that from?” jisung asks, grabbing the note from your hands to look at it. “felix? i thought you hated that kid,” he says before handing it back to you. the three gryffindors all turn to look at you.

“i do, which is precisely why i didn’t wanna come to the game tonight. especially now—he’s gonna think i’m here because of him!” you complain. jisung laughs at this, and changbin smirks at you.

“relax, y/n, it’s gonna be fine. he’s just being nice—maybe you should give that a try. besides, the stands’ll be packed, what are the odds he’ll even see you in the crowd?” chan asks.

“besides, you’re clearly the best at taking notes, so we need you to write down what happens so we can crush ravenclaw next week. no offense,” changbin adds, and you roll your eyes at him.

“you’re lucky i love you guys,” you say as the four of you weasel your way to the front of the stands. it’s not long before you hear minho’s voice booming across the pitch as he begins announcing the game, introducing the lineup for each team. you duck into chan as the hufflepuff team flies by, not wanting to be seen by felix. he laughs and ruffles your hair before nudging you off of him.

“relax, y/n, it’s gonna be fine! look, the game’s starting—jisung and changbin, watch the ravenclaw beaters and try to figure out their tactics; i’ll watch the chasers and try to figure out their plays so we can copy them in practice,” he says, and the three gryffindor boys lean forward eagerly to watch as ravenclaw takes possession of the quaffle. your quill scribbles furiously as you listen to the boys’ commentary, taking notes so they can go over them later. you don’t really mind not being able to watch the game; you don’t really care much for the sport, plus your friends always take you out for butterbeer afterwards, so you don’t have any complaints.

“damn, felix is really good,” chan mutters, and your head snaps up at his name. you watch as felix somehow deflects a ravenclaw’s attempt at scoring—you’re not quite sure how he even managed to make it in time, but you have to admit it was impressive. as hufflepuff supporters cheer in the crowd, felix does some goofy poses on his broomstick (honestly you have no idea how he hasn’t fallen off yet).

“yeah that was a really good save—too bad he’s not a gryffindor, we could use a good keeper,” changbin adds on, and you giggle at the bitterness in his tone; last year’s keeper and captain of the gryffindor quidditch team, jaebeom, was amazing—after he graduated and appointed chan captain, chan had been left with the task of finding a keeper good enough to replace jaebeom.

“yeah, we really could,” chan says with a sigh. the game continues, the ravenclaw and hufflepuff teams fairly evenly matched and the snitch nowhere to be seen. one of the ravenclaw chasers flies right overhead, a whoosh of cold air rushing over everyone in the stands as she races away from a bludger. you shiver, cursing yourself for forgetting your hat and scarf.

“a little chilly over there?” chan says with a laugh as he wraps his scarf around your neck. the small bit of warmth is comforting, and you’re able to keep taking notes for the boys.

“and first-year seeker, hufflepuff’s yang jeongin catches the golden snitch, ending the game with a score of 210-80 for hufflepuff!” minho announces, and the crowd erupts in applause. defeated ravenclaws (you’re not one of them) and ecstatic hufflepuffs make their way from the stands back to the castle. you pass your notes to chan, who stuffs them in his robes.

“thanks again y/n, we’ll be sure to thank you when we destroy ravenclaw!!” chan says excitedly. “you coming to the three broomsticks with us?” he questions. you shake your head in response.

“nah, i’ve got a herbology test tomorrow and i’m behind on studying. bring me back some candy from honeyduke’s though!” you say, waving as you head back along the path to the castle.

you’re enjoying the quiet walk alone in the brisk autumn air; the chatter of distant groups of students mixes in with satisfying crunch of dead leaves as you shuffle along the path. the wind nips at your ears and nose, and you cozy into chan’s scarf for warmth.

“y/n, wait up!” a voice calls from behind you. you turn to see felix jogging up the path, broomstick clutched tightly in one hand while his scarf trails behind him like a kite string, the yellow and black stripes standing out against the darkening gray sky.

“oh, hi felix,” you mutter, turning around and continuing your walk. you don’t bother waiting for him to catch up, rather listening to his footsteps and breaths grow louder as he runs after you.

“you came to the game!” he says, and his freckles cheeks are rosy from the cold. his slightly breathless, and his sweaty hair is blown every which way.

“nice observation. i was only there because my friends dragged me along though, don’t get any ideas,” you tell him.

“what, you’re sure you weren’t there to watch me play?” felix teases. “only kidding; i saw you bent over your parchment the whole time. do you ever take a break from school?”

“it wasn’t for school, but yes, i take breaks. just the other day i walked up to the astronomy tower just to look at the stars, that wasn’t for school, just for fun!” you reply. felix’s eyes widen at your statement.

“really y/n? that’s your idea of fun?” he questions, shaking his head when you nod. “you need to get out more; i mean there’s nothing wrong with stargazing, but you could definitely use a little more excitement in your life. me and my friends are going to hogsmeade this weekend, you should come with us!!” he says excitedly. you don’t say anything, but you eye felix suspiciously. why on earth would he invite you, when you (admittedly) have been super rude to him?

“....okay, fine,” you find yourself agreeing—you aren’t quite sure if they’re your words or if someone put you under the imperius curse to say them, because why would you agree to spending a day with felix, your sworn enemy?

“wait, really? not gonna lie, i was expecting you to say no. well that’s good, i was gonna bribe you with chocolate frogs, but i gu—“

“i’ll still take the chocolate frogs,” you say, and you find yourself actually smiling at felix. he smiles back, but you see his smile falter slightly and his brows furrow in confusion.

“i thought you were a ravenclaw,” he says, gesturing to your scarf.

“oh i am, this is chan’s,” you mention casually. you look down at the scarf (you’d forgotten you borrowed it, to be honest), and in doing so you miss the way felix’s face falls. “i forgot to give it back.”

“oh...uh, is he, um, are you, you know….like, together?” felix asks, and the question really throws you off. you almost laugh out loud at the absurdity.

“what?? oh my god—no. definitely not. i love chan, but..no. he’s just my best friend,” you say, and you can practically see the relief wash over felix.

“ah okay, just curious,” felix says, laughing nervously. you continue walking across the grounds, almost back at the castle now. you’re still keeping your distance, but you’re no longer walking on the opposite edge of the path as felix. maybe he’s not so awful; it’s not his fault he’s better than me….no, what am i thinking? i still need to find out how he does so well. he’s perfect in school, he’s somehow amazing at quidditch, and he’s also gifted with those looks?? something doesn’t add up, you think to yourself.

“felix!! i caught the snitch!” an excited voice yells from behind you. you and felix both turn to see jeongin sprinting down the path, grinning ear to ear.

“yes!! good job out there, innie,” felix says as he beams at the younger boy, and you melt a little at the sight. “i’ll see you in class tomorrow y/n!” felix says, waving as he and jeongin head to the hufflepuff common room, leaving you to question what the strange bubbly feeling in your stomach is.

[click here for part ii!]

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supposed2bfunny · 4 years

Text

Unbound-a 2doc drabble

“Alright then?” 2D asks, sitting back on his haunches and looking down at Murdoc thoughtfully.

Murdoc smirks up at him, fingers flexing a little to gauge how tight the silk bonds are around his wrists. He still has a decent amount of mobility. Nothing hurts, circulation is not being interrupted. And it certainly isn’t the first time he’s been bound to the headboard of his bed by a lover. Absolutely no alarms are ringing in his head. “Perfectly comfy,” he assures. “Might even kip if you keep up the pace. Can you at least get your trousers off?”

“Oh, they’re not coming off,” 2D replies with a smile, settling down on Murdoc’s lap, looking content as can be. “But I knew you’d never agree to letting me do this unless I spiced it up, mentioned some bondage. You’re more predictable than you’d like to think, you old goth.”

For the first time, Murdoc feels himself start to tense under that stare. “Agree to let you do what, exactly?”

Relationships are not work. At least, they don’t really have to be. They are routine. You figure someone out, and then you follow the rules of that person’s mechanism, input the correct sort of dialogue at the correct moments, agitate when the situation calls for, and ultimately maintain or destroy the relationship according to how much money it can make you, or what drugs it can score you. Simple really.

His routine with 2D has been a complex one, evolving gradually but persistently over the years, requiring a lot of tweaking. First they were mates who occasionally snogged whenever they got high together (they smoked a lot of weed). Then they were fuck buddies. More recently, they’ve been treading into water that was warmer and much deeper than anything Murdoc is familiar with. And Murdoc has always been like a ship’s captain: at his most comfortable when he is in the water, but able to see land in the distance if he squints. 2D has gone from legal obligation to frontman to tempest so slowly that Murdoc didn’t see it coming until he’d been pulled in too deep, and now, wherever he strains to look, he can no longer spot land, only the phantom shadows of solid ground that turn out to be tricks of the eye.

“Hey, you with me?” 2D draws him out of his contemplation with soft, cool fingertips on his temple.

“Yeah, ‘course. Now what exactly do you want? How do you want me?”

“Well...” 2D blushes, tips his head at such an angle that, though the dark light of the bedroom obstructs any ability to see the rustbrown bloodstains in his eyes, Murdoc can intuit that he must be looking down, gaze snagging to the left, unable to look into the bassist’s face as he speaks. “Remember last week-”

“No.”

“Quiet! You bloody alcoholic. Remember last week, when we were listening to that bloke on that radio station who interviewed us a month ago?”

“That was Howard-fucking-Stern, you tit.”

“So you do remember,” he teases, smiling triumphantly, and again Murdoc is able to recognize that 2D’s eyes are focused on his face again, though he can’t quite make out how he knows it. “Anyway, he was saying how fun it was to interview you and Russel in August.”

“Yeah, so?”

“And then, he said how Russel was real easy to get along with, the kind of bloke you’d want to go out for a drink with after an interview.”

“Pretty sure he wouldn’t use the term ‘bloke,’ sunshine. American.”

“And he said that you were really fun to talk to too! He said that everyone has this image in their head of you as a jerk or a bad guy, but you’re really quite smart and funny. And he’d love to interview you, or have you co-host one of his shows sometime.”

“Right. This has been riveting. Now, about that kip-”

“When you and I heard him say that last week, say how he liked you, you got this weird look on your face. You said no one’d ever said such nice things about you so earnestly. And well, Muds. Well...i thought that that was rather, um, sad. So I kind of wanted to...uh, I just figured.”

Murdoc tips his head back and closes his eyes, pretending to doze off. 2D pinches his cheeks playfully, and though he keeps his eyes closed, he can hear the singer’s smile when he finally forces his words out:

“I was thinking I should say nice stuff to you. Only I figured you’d tell me to bugger off. So I made up a whole story about wanting to try something different, and using silk to tie you down and well...” his fingers go from pinching to stroking, and Murdoc opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling rather than at 2D. Think of swimming in the ocean. The shallow shelf is so often bigger than you’d expect it to be; you can walk out into the water for what seems like a quarter of a mile and still touch the bottom. And then, eventually you reach that point where you set your foot down to kick off, and you no longer find the bottom.

“Dents.”

“Murdoc,” it’s somewhere between begging and whining, his tone. “Let me do this, okay? Just give it a shot.”

“Happy ending included?”

He chuckles. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m sure you can multi-task,” he assures, rolling his hips up just a bit to feel the singer’s weight on top of him. Neither of them is hard: they hadn’t gotten to the foreplay yet. At least, he’d assumed there would be foreplay. And sex. And not this pathetic, mushy, how-the-fuck-did-Howard-Stern-precipitate-this?

“Fine. Let’s start with the obvious: you’re really smart, and I love to listen to you talk about smart stuff.”

He snorts. Oh, this isn’t going to be sexy. But at least it will be funny.

“I mean it! Not when you’re faking. I know that you don’t really know anything about Korean fashion like you told Noodle you do yesterday, and I know that you don’t have a master’s in archeology.”

“You know that, and you still licked that rock we found behind Kong when I asked you to. Remarkable.”

“You’re smart about useful stuff. Like how you were saying that ‘Girl’ was such a revelation to listen to when you were young because Lennon was using his voice as an instrument, not just as a means of saying lyrics prettily.”

“He was also referencing weed, mate.” Murdoc makes a similar inhaling noise to the one John Lennon makes in the song, trying to get 2D to understand that it’s a joke about hitting a blunt, nothing clever about it, just silly. “This is the same song that uses the word ‘tit’ in the background. Just randy northerners being randy, having some fun.”

“You’re trying to play it off now, but they way you first described it to me, Muds. the way you described vocalizations as instrumentation, it was incredible. You’re so smart about music, about ways to get the best feedback when we’re recording, about why you prefer to play without a pick because you like the way the strings vibrate against the pads of your fingers even though it hurts just a bit since you play so much.”

He leans forward then, still cupping Murdoc’s face, but now he also kisses his forehead. “You’re also very talented. Y’know, I could see you having a million different jobs if rock star hadn’t worked out. Not that I’m not happy Gorillaz have made it big, but. Well, you’re so handy around Kong that sometimes I think you could start a business. Just figuring shit out for people, fixing their leaky pipes and getting their teles to play all the channels.”

“That’s what plumbers are for,” he mumbles as another kiss is pressed to his brow, then another to his temple. “And I only sorted out the problem with the TV because Noodle was badgering me about it and I couldn’t take it.”

“I’ve imagined you as the guy who plays piano during intermissions at plays and musicals, because I think you’d make the waiting time between performances fun for people. And I could also picture you as a model for art students: the sort who poses in all sorts of outfits, or nude, so they can learn anatomy.”

“You’ve fantasized about that? Maybe you’re kinkier’n I gave you credit for, Stu-pot.”

“And speaking of you modeling, you’re beautiful to me, Murdoc. I love how sharp your collarbone is, and how elegant your fingers are, even when you’re just relaxing, your hands always look so delicate. I like the way you tend to look at things out of the corner of your eye when you’re trying to act disinterested; you don’t move your head, but your eyes flicker. And I love the little canine tooth on the left corner of your mouth, cuz it’s turned out a bit and it looks sharp, like a fang.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious-”

“No, I mean it’s my right canine tooth. Your left, my right.”

“Oh, yeah. Oops,” he loses his concentration for just a moment, glances at Murodc’s mouth, and the bassist obliges, opening his mouth to reveal his sharp tooth. “There it is! Also, I wasn’t done.”

“Stu, you don’t have to do this.” By which he means he’s not sure if he can take more of this. This is way off of their routine banter. This is meaningful. And Murdoc has always considered himself too nihilistic to handle meaningful things.

“You agreed to this,” he replies. “You’re bound and you’re not getting away from me, Murdoc.”

He looms over him, and for a brief instant, Murdoc thinks, I’m drowning. But then, 2D’s mouth is on his, and he’s not thinking anything other than don’t stop kissing me, you feel so good.

“So where was I?,” he asks, and he begins to talk and he kisses Murdoc’s neck, his chest, strokes his hair soothingly. “Oh yeah, I like the way you look when you smoke, when you’re really lost in a story and your cigarette is burning down to ash and you don’t even notice because you’re so caught up talking, the way it dangles from your fingers. You’re good to me in ways no one else is. Like, you don’t ever make fun of me when you tie my shoes for me, but you also don’t make me feel like a baby for needing your help. Whenever we’re out shopping, you always pick up the candy I like, and you don’t yell at me when I eat the whole bag in one sitting, even though I get an upset stomach after. And I love how, when you pull me onto your lap, you tap your fingers against my waist like you’re keeping time to a tune. Like holding me close is a kind of song for you.”

2D’s hands have begun to travel down Murdoc’s face, along the column of his throat, over his ribs. The touch isn’t particularly sensual; it’s more grounding than anything else. He’s tempted to tell 2D that holding him is a song. He’s not stupid enough to actually say that out loud.

“You already know that I love you. And even though you can be a real hemorrhoid, you’re also the most interesting person I’ve ever dated.”

“Aw, Stu, we’re dating? I had no idea, congratulations.” Deflect. Deflect the warmth flooding into his chest with humor while there’s still room for coherent thought. He’s taking on way too much emotion. When you’re out this deep, so far from shore, it’s often too late by the time you realize that there’s a problem.

“I wanted to tie you down so you wouldn’t be able to run away or touch me to distract me. I wanted to have you here, at my mercy, Murdoc. To tell you that I love you more than I think I’ve ever loved anything, and that’s really scary. It’s also kind of beautiful. Just like you. You can be scary, but also so lovely to anyone who knows how to look at you,” he leans in again, presses their foreheads together, closes his eyes for a few beats. He opens them, and Murdoc can see only endless black. He should be terrified. Instead, he tilts his head up, tentatively asks for a kiss. 2D obliges, hands sliding down his body further, to settle on his hips, to anchor him here in this jet-black depth.

“You’re saying you know how to look at me.”

“Yeah.”

“You, and Howard Stern both.”

It takes hims him a moment, and then he’s laughing. “You can’t be serious for five minutes, can you?”

“Dents, this is a lot to take in. Do you think we can do other stuff while you tell me all this so I don’t have to process it all right this second?”

“I don’t want this to be about sex, Murdoc,” he argues, looking hurt. “I want it to be about you understanding what you mean to me, all the things I love about you.”

“Yeah, I bloody well got that,” he replies. “But this is a little much for me. Maybe if you give me some distraction, I can take this all in now, and process it a little later?” He squirms a bit, feeling vulnerable for the first time. Strange, since he had no problem lying down on his back when he was certain he was going to be stripped of his clothes.

2D mulls this idea over, then ultimately nods. “You promise you’re listening though? If I touch you, you’ll still hear what I’m saying?”

He meets his lover’s gaze without hesitating. “No one has ever complimented my collarbone before, you know.”

2D smiles and leans close for another kiss. “You have been paying attention.” Another kiss. “Okay, as long as you keep that up. Should I untie the bonds?”

“Nah, leave ‘em. I like to be tied up. I’ve got just one request before we continue.”

2D’s hands pause over Murdoc’s belt buckle. “Anything, Murdoc.”

“Maybe some day, when I’m there mentally, you’ll let me do this for you in return?”

The singer’s smile is daybreak after a storm. “I’d really like that, yeah.”

“Good,” he replies, closing his eyes, letting his head fall back, and enjoying the familiar slide of his belt being pulled from his trousers. “I think I would too. Now tell me how much you love my singing voice; say that I’m a better vocalist than you.”

“Now you’re really pushing your luck, Niccals.”

Relationships are not work, they are routine. There is ebb and flow to them. 2D has never been predictable, practicable. The thrill of being pulled out into deeper waters, once nerve-wracking, has become a hobby for Murdoc. He cannot feel the shore beneath his feet. There are black eyes above him, watching him take on this mysterious romance till he begins to sink. He’s learned to trust that once he slips under, he will not forget how to breathe. Instead, he will find a world below the surface that looks similar to the one he left behind on land. Similar, but safer somehow, protected by roiling waves above and currents that know where to go. A turquoise-hued utopia. All he has to do is let go. And some day, he certainly will.

#2doc #2doc fanfiction #just a lil drabble cuz i miss these two a lot today #beck's fics

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peydawgz · 5 years

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Hello lovely ☺️. Okay so a Stu Macher x reader fic where they’ve been dating for awhile and they join the boys on their next kill. S/o flirts with Stu in costume when they get back home. He gets all flustered and gets them back 👅

(This one turned out to be a looooong one i’m sorry- nsfw under the cut )

You’re Gonna Get it || Stu Macher x Reader (NSFW)

You’dknown Stu for at least three years now, since your second year of high school;when you started going to Woodsboro. You’d moved to the small town because yourmom had a new job opportunity and she took it, and decided to settle you downin the small down that was only a little way from where she worked. She wasgone for weeks at a time, and you found the house to yourself most of the time.She always left you with money for food and her number on the fridge, but youwere good on your own even without it.

Youworked at the video store alongside Randy as a cashier once you hit your junioryear. You were good friends with him, but only because you worked with him andyou kinda felt sorry for the guy. Also because he held your secret of having acrush on one of the most popular guys in school; Stu Macher. He just sohappened to be friends with him, while you only ever made soft eyes at him and thoughtabout him at night, twirling your fingers through your hair as if it were hishands.

It’d bea lie to say he wasn’t on your mind all the time. You wrote about him in yourjournal, stared at him during lunch, and meekly muttered when he even approachedyou. Randy laughed at you, saying he was only a guy, and an obnoxious one atthat. But when you eyed him by the fountain, as he laughed with his friends andhis tongue slipped out of his mouth playfully…. Oh god you could only dream ofwhat he would do to you with it.

Whenyou weren’t looking, though, he did the same. He would stare at you during Physicsas you took notes, admiring you even on your worst days when you’d decide notto brush your hair and wear sweatpants. He’d go out of his way to bump into youto pick up your books, and he’d constantly gab to Randy about you and ask aboutyou all the time. He’d lay on his side in bed, face smushed into his pillow ashe thought about soft things, like hugging you, and maybe even getting to holdyou. Those thoughts weren’t all soft, though. When him and Billy had to getwith Syd and Tatum, he knew it was for the best. He didn’t want to have to killyou.

But hedid invite you to his party. You were shaken up from all of the recent murders,and decided that maybe it was best you weren’t home alone this once. You toldhim you needed a ride, and he happily obliged. You knew he was with Tatum, andyou were immensely jealous of her, and last minute, as you sat in the frontseat of his car, you felt disgusted with yourself. They probably fucked in thiscar, and he wanted nothing to do with you. You should have stayed home insteadof having to deal with all of these feelings. Look at you, you even tried todress up for him. Pathetic, you thought. Stu noticed you were looking reallyglum, and as he pulled in to his driveway, he knew he had to make it up to you.

Youreached for the handle. He locked the car door, turning to face you with a seriouslook on his face. “Y/N, I gotta tell you something…” He began, his facestarting to turn deep shades of red. Your face also turned red. Was this wherehe’d tell you to get out of his car and find a ride home? Instead, he reached acrossthe glovebox of the car and placed his hand on yours, your face instantlyheating up. “Between me and you, I’m gonna break up with Tatum tonight.” Hesaid in a whisper toned voice, as if people could hear him from outside of hiscar. The party wasn’t going to start for another hour anyways, it was just you,Billy, Stu, and Randy here anyways.

“…Oh?”Was the only thing you could manage out right now. “And I was hoping maybe meand you could talk a little bit more…” Stu admitted, now looking down at yourhand and his, how long his fingers were to yours. “I… I would like that a lot.”You whispered back. “We’ll talk about this more after the party, kay?” He saidsort of hurriedly, quickly kissing your cheek and bouncing out of the car,unlocking your door. You couldn’t help but feel that just maybe he had more tosay than just that, but you stepped out of the car and followed after him,carrying the beer.

Thewhole rest of the party went slow, you supposed. You’d mostly sat on the couch,your hand caressing where Stu’s lips had once been placed on your cheek. Youeyed him up the whole time you’d been at the party, and so had you. Tatum hadleft to grab more beer and you figured that’s when Stu decided to break up withher, because she didn’t come back. Syd had left a little after her with Billy.Then Stu drove you home after the party was all over, and he promised you he’dcome visit the next day to check on you, assuring you that nobody would attack.

Tatumwas found dead in her home the next morning, and so was Syd and a few others.You found this out whilst listening to the news as you made breakfast. Tatum’sbody was “crumpled” and Sydney had been stabbed to death. You were neverfriends with them anyways, but you felt bad for Billy and Stu. Their girlfriendshad been taken by the Ghostface killer, and you eagerly waited for Stu afterwork passed. Randy would not shut up about the murderer as always, and lots ofpeople were too scared to step out of their homes for most of the day.

Youcame home, setting your stuff on the couch and going to the kitchen to make asnack. As you flicked on the lights, there Stu sat on the counter with a bigsmile on his face, “I’ve been waiting for ya, Y/N!” He hopped down and grabbedyou into a hug. “How long? And how did you get into my house?” You asked, notworrying about it too much. “About fifteen minutes. Your back door was unlockedand I wanted to surprise you.” He said with a huge gin on his face, and youfelt compelled to smile with him. “Surprise!” He shouted and grabbed you upinto his long arms, pulling you into his arms, “I was gonna ask you last night,but I wanted to wait until we’d get some time alone. Would you like to like, goout with me?” He questioned in all seriousness. “Of course! Yes!” You meltedinto his touch; arms wrapped around his neck.

Afterthat, he often stayed with you when you were home alone. You two cuddled up togetheron your couch and watched horror movies, giggling and shoving popcorn in eachother’s mouth. You enjoyed the goofiness in the relationship, often matchinghim and goofing off with him. It was all going perfectly until one day heshowed up on your back doorstep in his ghostface costume, holding the mask,Billy standing behind him with a hunting knife in hand. “Hey babe!” He kissedyou on the cheek. You were in shock as you stood there, watching the two idiotswalk into your home with steel toe boots. “Oh boy, I’ve got a surprise for you!”He said, absolutely unphased with the horror on your face. He looked at you asyou nodded him on. He whispered sweetly, “We’re ghostface!” and rambled onabout their whole plan with you.

You’ve been hiding the secret for almost twomonths now, watching as they murdered your classmates and anyone around thatpissed you or them off. You were sworn to secrecy, even though you didn’t mindthat much. In a sick way, it was sweet that Stu would kill for you, even if itwas the lady at the mall who pissed you off one time. But you also found itboring to sit at home while they went off killing. “Stu, can I pretty pleasecome with you tonight? I promise I’ll give you extra kisses tonight if I can?”You whined, and he could only give you puppy eyes back. “I’ll have to textBilly about it, babe.” He replied, picking up and setting you in his lap towatch. To his disbelief, he got a yes!

Billy arrived a good ten minutes laterwith a brand new store-bought ghostface costume with you, and Stu helped youraid your kitchen for a knife, and found a perfect one! It was a standard kitchenknife, but he ruffed your hair and kissed you. “Reminds me of Michael Myers,babe!” He said, and turned you so that you were looking in a mirror with him,both clad in costume. “Hey, it can’t wait, we have to hurry!” Billy yelled. Hehad decided to be the getaway driver and let Stu show you the ropes. You twosat in the backseat, and giggled the whole way as Billy parked about a blockaway from the house. You and Stu walked to stand by the window, peering in towatch one of the biggest football players as he flipped throuh channels on thetelevision.

Stu made the phone calls, and yougiggled that he’d had the football player paranoid and locking doors andwindows but you two were already in the house, hiding in the pantry as youwatched him. As you listened to Stu on the phone, you reached around andtouched up and down his thigh, your fingers gripping and crawling up the insideof his leg. You could nearly feel the hairs on his body stand up as you touchedhis sides, drawing little shapes in his chest and kissing up his neck. His voicewas just nearly shaking as he began to get angry with the football player onthe other line who was threatening to call the cops.

Stu hungup with a deep, “I’m going to skin you like a fucking hog!” And then turned tolook down at you. “Go get him, babe.” He muttered, hands crawling up yourcostume now but you pushed him off and held the knife in your hands, turningand creeping out of the pantry only to hide by the staircase. As the footballplayer was on his way to lock one of the other windows, you leapt out andplunged the knife into his back, slinging a hand over his mouth and shrieking wildlyas you continued to stab. Blood splattered all over the costume, but as hereached up a hand to pull the mask off, his hand went limp, taking it off andleaving you with a bloodstained face. You were straddling him, crazy eyed and wildlybreathing.

You turned your eyes up to Stu, whoran out of the pantry. “Hell yeah! That’s my fucking baby! Oh my god I love youso fucking much.” He picked you up, grabbing you up into his arms and carryingyou out, then slinging you over his shoulder, giggling as he ran to the getawayride, shoving you in the backseat and crawling in with you. “Billy, you shouldhave seen Y/N! That was so fucking amazing, you did such a good job.” He kissedall over your face once he took off his mask, the car speeding off.

The wayhome, you continued to tease him, running your fingers over his knee and goingup more and more until you were palming him through his pants, his heavybreathing in your ear as you whispered nasty things to him through thedarkness, other hand in his hair. Billy stopped the car, and winked at the bothof you on your way out, you holding Stu’s hand as you hurried inside.

“Oh you’regonna get it now, babe!” He said as soon as the door closed, chasing after youas you ran around the house and up the stairs. He caught you just before youcould run into the bathroom to lock yourself in. He grabbed you up by yourwaist, both of you laughing as he slung you over his shoulder and carried youback to your room, shoving you into the bed and attacking your neck with kisses.“You should have known better than to say such nasty things to me while I’m incostume.” He said, dragging his long tongue up your neck now only to plant akiss on your lips. “Maybe you deserved it!” You giggled, as you raised up thecostume he wore, taking off his shirt with it to reveal his slim torso. Youcould nearly see his ribs.

“You wereso hot tonight, hun.” He mumbled as he removed your costume and shirt as well,palming your breasts in his hands. “So were you.” You replied cheerily andpulled down his pants with your toes, seeing his very obvious hard on throughhis boxers. He mumbled something back that you couldn’t make out, and then heremoved the rest of your clothes, leaning back to admire your beauty. “Fuck…. Ijust fucking love you so much. You’re so amazing.” Stu reminded you as heremoved the rest of his clothes, leaving him naked as well. He climbed on topof you again, “You’re really gonna get it for earlier, babe” He said, and youcould feel the embarrassment curl in your stomach as he slowly pushed his wholelength into your entrance.

You letout a loud moan as he did so, your bloodstained hands pressing into his backwhile his promptly held onto your sides. He let himself slide in and out ofyou, his body shuddering in amazement as he made soft love noises. You coveredyour face with your hands, legs shaking from being thrusted into. “Stu! Oh my god,Stu!” You clenched your fists as he hit a certain spot in your body that droveyou completely wild. He continued to pound into you as you hit multiple orgasms,the bed under you creaking. His hands fell against your neck, moving from theirspot on your hips and now choking you. Your vision went spotty, and your facered. He felt his throbbing member come to an amazing feeling, pumping faster ashe leaned into your shoulder, moaning out your name, “H-Holy shit, Y/N.” His voiceshook and his hips bucked into your ass once more, biting at your neck. Hemoved his hands under you squeezing your ass cheeks between two palms. “I’mgonna fuckin cum-“ He whimpered, letting his juices splurt into you with anamazing, warm sensation pushing past your walls as you both fell flat on thebed.

“Thatwas amazing.” You both said in unison, you turned on your side, curled up intohim and pressed a long kiss to his lips as you both fought for breath, finallyletting go as you both giggled and snuggled until you fell asleep. God, you lovedhim to death.

#stu macher #stu macher x reader #scream #ghostface x reader #ghostface #Slashers #slashers x reader #slasher imagines #asks

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tothedarkdarkseas · 4 years

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Do you think murdoc is uncomfortable with his more feminine side? What things do you think he's holding back on doing? How would that change the band's perception of him?

TW for misogyny, and a cut for length!

I think there’s such a fascinating contradictory nature to Murdoc, in that he does have this feminine energy and yet much of his behavior is very much defined by a deep-set toxic masculinity. He’ll wear “women’s” cosmetics, knickers, heels– as in proper, red stiletto heels– but still make very crude and frankly objectifying comments, and he’ll use pretty insensitive language especially if there’s an opportunity to get a rise out of Stu. I think he is “comfortable” to a certain extent with what he likes, at the 30+ age at least; he’s not so in denial as he might’ve been before 18 and he’s not so secretive as he might’ve been at 24, and he assigns less “meaning” to it than Stu does pretty much up to recent years… but I also don’t think Murdoc would appreciate being seen “like a girl” to people he isn’t sleeping with, not in early phases at least. I used this example before, but it’s that sort of funny juxtaposition between Murdoc pretty much asking Stu to emasculate him and make degrading comments, but then turning around and belittling Stu for showing emotions he perceives as feminine. I don’t think he’s trying to be contradictory or that he’s really even aware that he is, it’s just a conflict between desire and learned behavior and both of those, at the stage he’s at now, are really innate, reactive impulses. Growing up as he did and where he did, I’d imagine that unlearning not only the discomfort but the judgment toward emotion would be a challenge. I don’t necessarily believe Murdoc consciously thinks anything like “I can’t cry because crying is for girls,” but yet when Stu cries, it’s almost kneejerk to mock him by insinuating that he’s “acting like a girl,” despite the fact that he’d offered 10 minutes ago to, er, be put in a “feminine” position by Stu.

As far as femininity outside the bedroom, I think Murdoc has a harder time expressing that until he factors it into something that benefits him, as he generally does, and essentially connects it to self-gratification anyway– for example, to be seen by Stu wearing “women’s” undergarments gives him a thrill, whereas very early on in his success, to sincerely show up at an event wearing a blouse and skirt would feel a bit like panto to him, he wouldn’t even have the respect for himself that he’d supposedly expect anyone else to have, he’d feel like a source of mockery to himself. I don’t necessarily think it stopped him very slightly wading into that, but early on I think there’s a reason you don’t tend to see Murdoc’s style as quite so fluid, and when the cameras or interviews shift toward his erotic life he suddenly becomes a lot more forward about these things. I reckon at first he has to sort of work everything into his sexual behavior in order to feel he gets something out of it, and at that point, it can exist outside of personal shame. He’d also make comments about “feminine” activities (like getting his arsehole waxed, still not over that) but I think he’d either deliver those things in a joking tone– Murdoc deflecting anything and everything with comedy is pretty much a core character trait– or he’d again loop it back into being something gratifying, something he intends to be judged on his own terms for. That’s the tricky tightrope with Murdoc, there are things he relishes when he’s “allowed them” that also unnerve him in a fight-or-flight-response way when he doesn’t feel like he’s let them happen. It’s the difference between Stu uncomfortably insinuating something and Murdoc taking it a step beyond and saying something far cruder than Stu would’ve, and a gossip rag running an article that insinuated all the same things. If Stu wanted to call him “less of a man” he would get the chance to ask for it again, slower this time, he’d get the option to eroticize that and have consent over it– but if The Sun says that it’s just out there, it’s just something talentless, unaccomplished strangers or some old fucking cunts in Stoke can read and have a laugh at.

Of course, more recent phases of Gorillaz have made Murdoc much more openly comfortable with feminine style, which I’m all for and encourage Jamie to continue drawing, so if we’re going to step away from being problematic about these old British geezers for once on this blog… you could certainly say he’s hit a point of more sincere self-realization, or simply not caring in a more modern age. I’m cool with that. His crying also contradicts… a lot of what I’ve characterized about his emotional stunting, but y’know, Gorillaz canon cares not for whatever I’ve got going on and that’s fine, haha.

As for how it would change the band’s perception of him– it would depend on the phase, but honestly not that much. Stu already has highly conflicting and highly volatile feelings about Murdoc from the start, and after PB he’d have much more defining and more damning impressions of Murdoc– if anything, to see Murdoc express his feminine side in his older age would alarm Stu a lot less than if he’d done it in their “youth” (relatively speaking, Murdoc wasn’t all that young) and if we choose to go nicer with it, it might be sort of quietly reassuring to him that Murdoc’s addressing some of his hang-ups, knowing Murdoc as he’s known him. (If we choose to go less nice, he’s simply beyond that immature stage of being scandalized by Murdoc’s relationship to gender or sexuality, Murdoc doesn’t shock and entice him anymore, he just damages and disappoints. But y’know, your choice! I’d say it’s a little of both, and gets nicer the more distance they get from PB.) As for the others, I think Noodle is young enough that as a child it wouldn’t mean anything to her, and as an adult she’s simply of a newer generation. Her relationship to Murdoc is already complicated and, in my mind, not especially flattering either; if anything, depending on how good their relationship is at the time she might have similar thoughts to Stu. Russel I also don’t see as being overly involved in his bandmates’ lives and would likely care the least. I realize that’s mainly just referring to open outer expression like wardrobe or activities, but it’s hard to conceptualize what is “feminine” in a way everyone in the band would agree on, as I don’t think Russel and Noodle would have the same toxic masculinity that Stu and Murdoc are working through.

#headcanon posts #tw misogyny//#tw toxic masculinity//#long post #Anonymous

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tierthree · 5 years

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Can I get uhh continuation to that movie date👀👀I've been thirsting hard for Billy Loomis too much

a/n: sorry this took so long i got really into the goddamn exposition

word count: 2099

nsfw under cut !

After the impromptu handjob at the movie theatre, you and Billy had grown considerably closer, as you would expect. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends and classmates, Tatum especially.

She slides a scrap of paper across the desk and, when you open it, you find a note asking for all the ‘juicy details’ of your date. You scowl at her, though there’s a cheeky glint in your eyes that clues her in a little to what really went on. However, maths class wasn’t the time or place to discuss this, so you crumple the paper in your fist and make a mental note to throw it out when you get the chance.

As soon as the bell rings, Tatum is by your side and grabbing your arm excitedly.

“Sooo, come on, tell me everything! I need to know,” she insists, shaking you like a rag doll. You can’t fight the grin that spreads across your face and a blush threatens to creep up your cheeks.

“Well, you know… we went to go see that movie, but, uh…”

“Lemme guess,” Tatum fills in for you, a mischievous expression overtaking her features, “you were too busy doing this -” She makes an obscene gesture and you laugh and swat her - “to pay attention to the movie?”

“…That’s the long and short of it, yeah.”

Now placated, Tatum doesn’t pester you for any more details, instead giggling at how flustered you seem.

The two of you make your way to the canteen to grab some shitty food before making your way to the spot on the front lawn where you and the usual suspects - Sidney, Billy, Stu, and Randy - sit normally. Tatum plops herself next to Stu, who immediately has his hands all over her, whilst you hover awkwardly until Billy has the decency to offer you a seat.

“Hi,” he greets you, his hand ghosting your thigh. You smile at him and take it, squeezing it. Too forward? He doesn’t pull away. Stu immediately clocks this.

“Ooooh, Bill-ay!” he teases, a mocking simper on his face. Billy scowls and Stu immediately goes on the defensive, holding his hands up in surrender. Tatum is giggling, but also pulling at his arm to try and stop him from getting into a fight he won’t win with his friend.

“Shut it, Stu,” Billy grumbles. His grip on your hand tightens as he tries to clench his fists and seems to notice that he’s still holding you, his eyes widening.

Stu gets the message and lays off, leaning back into Tatum’s arms and making her complain about how he’s too heavy. The subject of the nature of yours and Billy’s relationship is momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, yeah, uh, I was thinking of having a party tonight. Not a big one, but we can just, y’know, hang out and watch movies,” he suggests, and Sidney rolls her eyes.

“We’re not watching Halloween again,” Sidney sighs. That’s the voice of a girl who’s tired of seeing JLC’s face. Stu rolls his eyes; he’ll probably end up sticking the VHS in at some point anyway, regardless of what Sid thinks of horror flicks.

“Well, are you guys up for it?”

You all agree to a time and Tatum assures you and Sidney that she can convince Dewey to drop you guys off. With the plans for the evening set, you part ways when the bell for next lesson rings. You don’t notice Billy watching you leave.

The rest of the day drags, the knowledge of your evening’s schedule making you itch to leave. Finally, when it comes to eight p.m., Dewey drops you, Sidney, and Tatum off in front of Stu’s parents’ house - which is a veritable mansion by comparison to your own home -, though not before giving his sister a lecture on staying safe. She rolls her eyes and waves him off as the three of you enter the house and are immediately greeted by the host.

“Goooood evening!” Stu hoots, cramming a fistful of popcorn into his mouth before beckoning you into the living room.

Billy slouches on the sofa as he stares blankly into space, though he sits up a little straighter when he sees you come in. Randy is by the TV, rewinding a tape with a pencil. He beams at the three of you, greeting you excitedly, whilst Billy just nods at you in acknowledgement. You take a seat next to him and bagsy the comfiest spot on the sofa and Tatum and Sidney squeeze next to you. Seeing his opportunity to continue as the clown of the group, Stu plonks himself in Sidney’s lap, laughing raucously as she tries to push him off.

“Stu!” she squeals.

He grins, draws out the moment a bit longer, and then gets up, moving some of the furniture around so that everyone in the group can sit comfortably. He’s brought out one of those blow-up chairs which he sits on like a throne.

Once Randy has successfully wound the VHS back to the start, he slots it into the player and the familiar opening of ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ shows on the screen. He takes a seat and you find yourself pressed against Billy. You weren’t sure if either of you could make it through this movie without a repeat of the date you’d had. You swallow thickly. A pair of brown eyes search your own and a flush makes its way to your cheeks.

“How’ve you been?” he asks quietly, gritting his teeth when Stu throws a popcorn kernel at his head. He whips his head around to glare at him. “You’ve seen this movie at least twenty times!”

“Twenty-two, actually!”

You barely suppress your laughter. The two of you would just have to wait a little.

A gasp escapes you as Billy snakes an arm around your shoulders, then trails it down your body restlessly to give your thigh a squeeze. He wasn’t going to do that in front of your friends, was he? But he leaves his hand there.

Once the movie finished, with Sidney begrudgingly paying attention, Randy commentating, and the rest of you trying your hardest to concentrate, Billy looks at you, then jerks his head in the direction of the stairs. Is he…?

Without a word, he stands and stretches, then makes his way upstairs. You follow him completely unthinkingly and unaware of the eyes on your back. Tatum, of course, knows, but she says nothing. The room is filled with the sounds of Randy ranting about Freddy Krueger and Stu offering to make some more popcorn as you leave. You feel as though you’re carried by some unknown force up the stairs and the ajar wooden door in front of you is inviting.

“Billy…?” you call softly, peering around the door. He’s sat on the edge of Stu’s parents bed. It’s a little… uncomfortable to mess around in their bedroom, with the floral sheets and the unmistakable smell of your friend’s mother’s perfume, but you have no better options.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his face curling devilishly and his dark eyes glinting. “You alright?”

Nodding, you venture over to the bed and tentatively perch yourself next to him, immediately to be greeted with Billy’s hand on your thigh again, though his touch is more forceful this time. He’s tired of holding off.

You turn to him and your lips crash together in a messy, desperate union. Your moans are muffled in each other’s mouths which you’re quite thankful for; you don’t want any more teasing from your friends downstairs. Eventually, they all dissipate from your thoughts, with your lust and Billy’s being the only things on your mind.

When you pull away for breath, Billy manages to say one thing before he pins you to the mattress: “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

His hands tug at the hem of your shirt insistently as he pulls it over your head and ducks his face down to your chest, meanly nipping at your hardening nipples and eliciting a surprised yelp from you. This spurs him on; his teeth are soon at your neck and, despite your weak protests, he leaves a purple hickey for everyone to see.

“Wh-What’s everyone gonna say when they - ah - see that?” you whimper between gasps and moans. He just grins at you like the cat that got the cream. He doesn’t allow you the satisfaction of an answer, seeking it in other ways - like by unbuttoning your pants and shoving his hand into the warmth between your thighs, your skin prevented from touching by a thin layer of cotton. You squirm and rock against his palm and he sucks in a breath through his teeth. His own jeans are painfully tight. There’s something about watching you come undone underneath him that’s so incredibly right.

His own clothes are soon to follow yours, slapping your hands away when you try to help him; he wants you to watch as he shucks his trousers off and slowly, slowly peels his boxers off, his cock immediately springing to attention. He’s well-groomed and a length that’s appealing and not too intimidating - maybe five inches? Your mouth waters at the sight.

“See something you like?” he purrs and you drape an arm across your face in embarrassment, which he soon removes firmly. “Nuh uh, I wanna see you.”

He discards your pants on the floor and slides your underwear down. Once it’s down to your ankles, he presses a finger to your cunt and withdraws it to see the glistening strand of slick clinging to it.

“You’re that wet already?”

“C’mon, Billy, don’t tease,” you whine, writhing your hips needily.

He momentarily takes in the situation before he slides between your legs, his ruddy head leaking precum and pressing against your clit tantalisingly; then, he adjusts and eases his way inside. The both of you moan.

“Holy shit, you’re tight,” Billy grunts through gritted teeth as your walls clench around him. You can’t respond; you’re too focused on the sensation of him stretching you out. Your hands are around his shoulders, digging your nails into his back when he moves after what seems to be a lifetime.

His hair flops in front of his face, which is misted with sweat, and he groans at every thrust. His eyes are completely focused on you - your expression, your flushed cheeks, your parted lips - as you grind your hips to meet his thrusts, setting a steady pace. His balls slap against your exposed skin and the room feels twenty degrees warmer. You squirm beneath him.

He leans in for another kiss that is eagerly reciprocated, so eagerly that your teeth clack and you’re both drooling but you’re so taken that neither of you care. It’s at this point that he reaches a hand between your bodies and presses a digit to your needy clit. Your own hand could never feel that good. He seems to know what he’s doing; he draws circles on the bundle of nerves and strokes it up and down, making your toes curl and your cunt flutter, in turn sending him into a frenzy. His thrusts pick up speed and all you can do is hang onto him desperately, tears welling in your eyes as he slams into you over and over and rubs your clit.

“B-Biily, I-” you stammer, and whilst the words don’t come, you do, with your mouth hanging agape and your whole body contracting. Your eyes roll back and in your moment of euphoria you vaguely acknowledge a breathy gasp from Billy. He says something strangled that you can’t make out. His grip has moved down to your hips, his bitten nails leaving crescent moons in the plush flesh, and he’s fucking into you like a jackrabbit. As you’re coming down, he reaches his peak, spurred on by the clenching of your insides, and a warmth spreads within you before he flops on top of you and lets his softening cock slip out. You’re both gasping for air and you blink away the blur in your vision. Gently, you rest a hand on his head, trailing your fingers through the slick hair.

“That was amazing,” you breathe.

“I know,” he crowed, “You squirted.”

If possible, your cheeks flush redder and you turn your gaze from his to the cream ceiling. The two of you lapse back into silence.

“What’re we gonna do about Stu’s parent’s bed?” is what Billy uses to eventually break the stillness. You finally register the cooling patch of wetness on the sheets and groan.

“Just shut up and hold me.”

#vintageratdoctor #billy loomis #scream (1996)#ghostface #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher #sidney prescott #randy meeks #tatum riley #slasher imagines #...i took some artistic liberties with this #i hope you enjoy it anyhow #took me long enough #ask t3 #t3 writing

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our-smooty · 5 years

Text

Picnic Paradise

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Teen

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Fluff

Summary: 2Doc Week 2019 Day 1- Favorite Song: Kansas

That led them to today. 2D had planned everything and even made all the food. Murdoc handled the refreshments, making sure to hold back on the booze, but not too much. They were sitting in a little park, far out of the way of the main streets. It even had a little duck pond. It was sickeningly domestic, but also quite peaceful. Murdoc allowed himself to relax back on the checkered blanket they’d laid out under a suitably large tree. 2D pulled out a portable CD player and set it on the ground.

“Goin’ old-school, are we?” Murdoc chuckled. The CD player was dusty and dented. 2D pulled out a similarly well-loved CD case and popped in a CD, fiddling with the volume nob until the summery notes of The Now Now filled the air.

“Though it would be nice, and I put my iPod through the washer las’ week…” 2D answered, grabbing a sandwich from the cute little basket he brought with him. “We haven’t listened to it together yet, since you’ve been back.”

Murdoc grunted in agreement, reaching into the basket for a beer. “Sure, sure, it’s nice enough.” It was actually really nice to act like a normal couple for once. Murdoc had never had that with any of his past partners, had never felt comfortable enough to stick around. Stuart was, as usual, the exception to that rule.

They sat quietly, just each other and the good weather. They didn’t get weather like this very often in England, and it was one of the upsides of living in the States. The last few notes of Humility faded out, transitioning to Tranz, then Hollywood. Murdoc couldn’t help but laugh slightly; he could never get over the fact that they’d collaborated with Snoop Dog again.

“What’s so funny Muds?” Stu asked, sitting up again and ripping a few blades of grass up from the ground.

“Nothin’ Bluebird, jus’ can’t believe we’re here.” He hoped 2D would get it, but he didn’t have a lot of faith. As expected, 2D looked confused but nodded along anyway, like he always did. It was part of his charm, that naiveness and loyalty, one that Murdoc had taken advantage of for years. Not anymore though.

“It’s a nice park, innit?” Stu hummed, his mouth full of bread and cold cuts. Murdoc didn’t bother explaining what he meant. Things went quiet again until the opening bassline of Kansas started.

“Hey Stu?” Murdoc started hesitantly. The singer looked over to him and set the sandwich aside, giving Murdoc his full attention, those big black eyes trained solely on him.

“Yeah Muds?”

“I mean t’ask… What’s this one about?” He’d wanted to ask since he got home, but hadn’t had the courage. Today, surrounded by sunlight and greenery, felt like the right time. “The other ones I can puzzle out, but I don’t get this one at all.”

2D was quiet for a bit, studying Murdoc intently, before answering. “Well, I dunno. I wrote a lot of these real late at nigh’ or off my face. But I think… I was my way of sayin’ I could move on with my life. But at the same time I was missin’ you and I was worried you’d move on too so…” he was obviously getting upset, little sniffles and deep breaths beginning to interrupt his speech. “And I was so worried that you were upset at me for movin’ on and that you wouldn’t want me anymore cause of how much I changed and--”

Murdoc sat up then, facing the singer. He set his beer aside and took one of 2D’s hands in his own, squeezing gently.

“Stu, none of what happened back then was your fault. I was being a tosser, and you were jus’ throwin’ my own shit back in my face, and rightly so.” It wasn’t as hard to admit that as it would have been in the past. It felt good to be able to be open and honest with the person he cared about most.

“Maybe, but I coulda visited you at least,” Stu said, his fingers wiggling and fidgeting in Murdoc’s hold. “At the time I was scared and worried you’d be pissed so I jus’ tried to forget, but I couldn’t forget you Murdoc.”

Murdoc’s face flushed slightly. He could handle sex and dirty talk just fine, but he was still getting used to 2D’s sweet nature. “I’m glad you didn’t come. I was in a nasty mood mos’ of the time there. It wasn’t until the end when I sorted myself out.”

In the background, Kansas was ending leading into the next track. Murdoc took his free hand and raised it up to 2D’s face, stroking his jawline where a little bit of blue stubble was showing. “I uh, I don’t wanna make you cry anymore D. I wanna be better.”

“You are,” the singer responded, putting his hand over Murdoc’s and leaning into his touch. “You’re so much better, and I’m happy.”

Murdoc cleared his throat roughly, drawing back. “Ok, ok. Enough mushy stuff,” he said gruffly, trying to cover up the fact he was getting emotional. 2D just laughed a high bell-like sound that made the bassist’s heart lurch. Satan, he was in deep.

‘But we haven’t even gotten to Fireflies of Souk Eye yet!” he laughed, turning the volume on the CD player up. “That’s the real romantic bit.”

“You’re killin’ me Stu, you’re killin’ your boyfriend,” Murdoc whined, again laying back on the blanket. This time 2D followed, tucking into the bassist’s side and resting his head on his shoulder. Both men were staring up at the cloudless sky, admiring the way the light shone through the tree above them. Murdoc begrudgingly admitted to himself that maybe this date hadn’t been such a stupid idea after all, but he wouldn’t tell 2D that.

#2doc #2docweek #2docweek2019 #studoc #niccalpot

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