#melissa fu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewryter · 6 months

Text

Conventional

Melissa Schemmenti x Female! Lowkey Mobster! Reader

Warnings/Summary: Jealousy along with some insecurities. Italians arguing.

A/N: is this me having a new favorite redhead 🫣. Granted I just started watching Abbott Elementary so I’m still on Season 1 atm but couldn’t resist and gave it a shot. Hope y’all enjoy!

I was walking the halls of Abbott Elementary, (how I got in wasn’t important) bringing my girlfriend some lunch. We kinda got carried away with some morning shenanigans which resulted in her running a bit late and I know she didn’t bring anything to eat.

While the relationship between Melissa and I was fairly new, we knew each other very well. Our whole lives to be exact, but being in a relationship with one another was new and it did have its ups and downs. We’re both Italian for crying out loud, so when there was an issue it wasn’t easy for one to admit fault.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear Melissa’s laugh coming from the school’s teacher break room making me smile which is then immediately wiped off when it’s followed by a males voice. One I don’t recognize. I slow down my pace in the hall as I hear this guy flirting with my woman. I stop by the door out of sight, waiting to hear Melissa brush this buffoon off but it doesn’t come.

I then turn in to take a quiet step into the room, Melissa had her back to me but I get a good look at this guy who was chatting her up. It wasn’t a teacher that’s for sure. They continue to talk adamantly to one another, not noticing someone has entered the room.

Barbara makes eye contact with me from her seat at a table. I give her a slight nod but raise my hand when she opens her mouth to acknowledge me ultimately silencing her reluctantly and watch as Melissa digs herself in a deeper hole.

“Am I interrupting something?” I ask gruffly finally making my presence known.

Melissa whips around surprised, mouth opening then closing like a fish out water, eyes wide.

“Hon! What’re you doing here?” Melissa collects herself with a smile coming over to give me a sorta hug since I don’t lean down to reciprocate.

“Since we had a late morning you didn’t bring lunch. So I got you my pops special from the deli.” I speak to her yet not moving my gaze away from Yosemite Sam.

As she steps to the side her left hand reaches back and up to scratch the back of my nape softly, something that usually relaxes me the second she does it, which most likely is her tactic.

It doesn’t work.

“And who might you be?” The guy then asks lightly in my direction.

“Doesn’t matter.” I quip dryly.

“Y/N.”

“Oh dear lord.”

The Hulk Hogan wannabe then awkwardly chuckles.

“Well I’m-

“Didn’t ask.”

“I just-

“Don’t care.”

“Well I better get going. Enjoy your tea, Red.” The man says before making his way out with his cart walking past me.

Instincts take over as I subconsciously turn to follow him when I feel Melissa holding me back by my forearm. My body is tense along with my jaw when I turn to face her.

“What the fu-

“Not here. Not now. We’ll talk tonight.” Melissa mutters to me.

We don’t live together but for most nights out of the week I come over for dinner and spend the night at her place.

“Are you serious?” I ask taken aback at how she’s practically ordering me around.

“Y/N please.” She sighs making my jaw clench.

“I’ll see. I’m going to be working late.” My reply is cold. “Enjoy your sandwich, Red.” I add dryly handing her the plastic bag with her lunch before walking out.

“Thanks for the heads up, Barb.” Melissa huffs, going to slump down on the chair next to her while the other woman’s mouth drops slightly at how this is being turned on her.

“Well I was going to but then I thought, I want my brakes to work on my car when I’m on my way home this afternoon.” She replies not wanting to be on your bad side.

“She wouldn’t do that..to you.” Melissa mumbles the last part.

“Yet you have to admit she’s not completely in the wrong for her reaction. You should have no longer entertained Gary’s flirtations when you decided to pursue a relationship with Tony Soprano.” The other woman points out with a nod of her head while the red head rolls her eyes at the nickname.

“Look despite how ugly that might’ve looked I know how to handle this. Ain’t nothing a night of good food and good sex can’t fix.” Melissa half shrugs digging into the bag from the deli while Barbra cringes at the last bit.

But when the day is over and it’s time for dinner, you don’t show up on time.

Since you two decided to be exclusive you have always made it a point to always be on time for dinner when Melissa cooked. A sign of respect of the time she took along with her thought. She contemplates calling you or not, but her pride stops her from doing so. If you don’t want to come over that’s fine. She’s not going to force you to, but man was it lonely.

Over the years Melissa has learned the hard way to adjust to sudden changes in her life but she was already used to the routine you two had going on.

The time she spends alone nursing a glass of wine she reflects on her actions from earlier today.

It was about to be 10 in the evening and despite being tired I didn’t want to go to my lonely apartment, even if Melissa is in bed and asleep I want to share the warmth of her bed which is an odd feeling in my chest, one that might have a connection to how I reacted earlier today.

I unlock her front door with my key as quietly as I can in case she’s asleep but I’m proved wrong when I hear approaching footsteps making me look over my shoulder to see Melissa standing there, wearing one of my Eagles sweatshirts.

“Hey.” She greets me softly, the complete opposite of what I was expecting, despite the bat in hand.

“Hey.” I mumble shrugging my leather jacket off my stiff shoulders, it’s been a long day.

She then goes over to the kitchen as I walk further inside. Her back is to me as she turns on the stove, no doubt reheating dinner. It’s silent but I’m not one to beat around the bush.

“I know your pay ain’t the best but you don’t needa flirt with some dude to get a free drink.” I set my jacket aside.

“Correction. He flirted with me.”

“You think I’m fuckin’ stupid? You were eating that shit up more than my brother Joey eats tiramisu.” I scoff.

Melissa’s eyes widen at your retort. You’ve never cursed at her, well in a non intimate setting, and much less because you’re upset at her.

Oh? So this is how it’s gonna go?

“Oh I’m sorry am I not allowed to express joy or laugh?” She raises a brow, some bite in her tone.

“You know that’s not what I mean, Melissa.” I huff shaking my head.

“Who knew for a gangster you’d get so jealous.” She quips borderline amused making me whip around.

“Jealous? Me? Over that? Fat chance, especially not when some big idiot thinks he can win you over with a stupid drink. I know you, Melissa. You wouldn’t let no guy you didn’t want flirt with you. I know what we got goin’ on ain’t conventional but shit! If you wanna be with some run of the mill bootlic-

“So that’s what this is about? You think I don’t want to be with ya? Hello? If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have a key to my damn place. I wouldn’t want you over eating my food every night. And I would have never accepted when you asked me out! Kept it strictly business. Now do you want one helping or two?” She asks looking over at me expectantly with a raised brow, plate in hand.

I take a second absorbing her words.

“Two.” I mumble going over to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar.

“That’s what I thought.” She replies serving two scoops of the pasta she made and adding the sides.

“Don’t push it.” I grumble as she comes over making me lightly smack her ass while she sets the food in front of me.

She fights back a smile while cupping my face to look at her.

“Now give me a kiss. What’re you crazy? Holdin’ out on the sugar when I’ve seen you twice already and nothin.” She kisses my lips which I “reluctantly” reciprocate.

“So are you gonna fix this problem with Hulk Hogan’s bald brother or am I gonna have to kick his candy ass?” I ask not letting her try and smooch her way out of this.

“Relax Rocky. It’s an elementary school, not Wrestlemania. I see Gary for maybe 5 minutes one day a week. I see you practically every day and spend every night with you. You don’t have to worry about him ‘kay? And just please don’t do anything to mess with him. It’s nothing. Really. I’m sorry.” She insists seriously making me release a tired breath and a slight nod letting my muscles relax under her touch.

“Now eat so you can go shower. You smell like an ashtray.” She then presses a gentle kiss against my temple while I nod before digging in what’s in front of me.

Yeah sure we have our issues, but we make it work.

Next Morning

Melissa wakes up alone, it’s unusual but it still happens sometimes when you have to handle work early in the morning so she doesn’t think anything of it despite what happened yesterday and gets ready for work like normal.

As she gets to the school she fumbles through her keys to get the one for her room when she notices the door is already open, making her walk a step faster.

“Easy. I don’t want none of her stuff outta place, capisce?” I instructed the two men who were moving things around.

“Good morning.” I hear making me turn around to see Melissa.

“You’re early.” I smile.

“Well yeah, without your distractions I was on time.” She chortles lowering her purse from over her shoulder and sets it down on one of her students desks.

“You love my distractions.” I smirk crossing my arms over my chest to which she only hums in response before returning her attention to what’s happening behind me.

“What’s all this?”

“Well since your room is pretty far from the teachers break room. I thought it would be convenient for you to have a personal fridge in your room. I even got you started with some snacks, water-

“Tea.” Melissa cuts in knowingly as she eyes the cases of raspberry tea set off to the side.

“Well would you look at that? I guess it made it into the mix.” I look over as well.

“Hon?”

“Yeah?” I turn to her and I’m met with her lips against mine in a quick kiss.

“Love ya.” She smiles against my lips.

“And I’m going to pretend this is a random act of kindness from my loving girlfriend.” She sighs lightly walking over to get a better look.

“Cause it is!” I shrug amused.

“Mhm yeah sure. Now, y’all gotta go. Imma miss the news.” She then says.

“You heard her. Business is done here.” I tell them with a simple nod towards the door.

As the guys walk away they mimic whipped noises making me curse after them in Italian.

“They’re not wrong, hon.” Melissa wraps her arms around my neck with a smirk.

I don’t deny it.

“I’ll see ya tonight?” She adds and I can’t help but grin.

“You know it baby.” I smack her ass playfully on my way out quickly dodging the hand she lightly swung my way.

Melissa looks back over at what was set up behind her desk, a genuine smile spreading across her lips at what you would do for her.

Yup. This is as conventional as it would get for her, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x you

187 notes · View notes

heygerald · 2 months

Text

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 9

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Parker joins Colt on set, things between the siblings gets argumentative. How hard will she try to convince everyone of something only she seems to see?

Read the story here: prev / next

Parker was dying.

Well, no, not really, but she was pretty sure that dying on the inside was the same kind of misery as dying on the outside—something Colt would wholeheartedly disagree with, but, whatever, he wasn't around to dispute such a wild claim—and as she failed at yet another attempt, she quite literally could feel her sanity evaporating like water on a hot summer day. It was ridiculous that the instructions were only five steps; even more ridiculous that there were high school art students who could do this with their eyes closed while gabbing about what the prettiest Met Gala dress of the year was and contemplating what the next Suzanne Collins' book would be.

"I think she should write more prequel books," said high school art student was blabbering on from the other side of the shelf, and while Parker's eyes went crossed and frustration welled like a heavy weight on her chest, Melissa didn't seem to notice as her train of thought continued on a cross-continental journey. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I will always love Katniss and Peeta's story, and hearing about their kids would be interesting, but there are seventy some years of Games that we haven't even heard about yet. That's so much material for her to write about!"

Parker glanced at the mess lying at her feet; tape and paint and abused shelf liner was sprawled around her as if a bomb had just gone off, and while Melissa continued on her fifth monologue of the hour, Parker almost wished one would.

"—did you see it? It was so good. Tom Blythe has to be my new celebrity crush. Right behind Tom Ryder, of course, but above Tyler Poser. Nothing against him personally, he just hasn't really done anything since Teen Wolf, you know? And—"

She was pretty sure black spots were dotting her vision, and when she attempted for a sixth time to smooth the bubbles out of her liner, Parker swore her head was going to implode.

How did one talk so much?

And more importantly—

"Jesus Christ!" she cried above the din of chatter. Melissa's voice cut off at the exclamation, but as she crossed one arm over the other—ruler clattering to the ground in frustration—the radio continued to play a steady stream of Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. "I'm so confused!"

A steady silence came from the adjacent aisle for half a moment.

"You... don't get the Hunger Games prequel? I thought you read it."

"Oh my fu—" she started, before cutting herself off. Melissa had gotten on her last week about having such foul language, and while Parker really didn't care about being a bad influence on the next generation, she did care about the stupid little jar sitting on the front counter that had collected half of her weekly coffee allowance in just three days. Pinching her nose, she swerved, "fudge, I don't get how you're doing this. I really don't."

"Doing—?"

"Not Suzzanne Collins," she snapped before Melissa could even go down that particular road. Honestly, the girl never stopped talking. "I understand that. I read those books before you were even born, kid."

"Okay, I'm not that young, and you're not old enough to be calling me kid," her voice floated above the shelves; judgmental and scornful all in one.

Parker pinched the bridge of her nose, only for some wayward tape to get stuck to her cheek, and as she ripped it off her skin with a groan, she considered sinking onto the cold floor for a nap.

Said floor was a mess of art supplies, however, and so she elected to tap her foot in an impatient staccato on the ground. Knowing there was only one thing left to do, Parker swallowed whatever pride still existed after this little art project. "...I don't understand how to put on the shelf liners," she admitted. "It doesn't make any sense, and I'm wasting material, and I'm—I'm going to set this place on fire if I have to keep doing this!"

A tut followed by Birkenstocks on hard wood before Melissa was popping around her side of the shelves. She looked too cute to be doing something misery-inducing like this—bubble braids over each shoulder, mascara and glittery white eyeshadow to balance out the glow of highlighter on her cheeks and nose, lips a soft bubblegum pink to compliment the pale color of her sweater—and Parker added it to the list of things that her employee did to annoy the shit out of her.

Teenagers were supposed to be pimply and awkward; when did the next generation start skipping that phase to jump right into cute outfits like that?

"What are you—?" she started, only to zero in on the absolute disaster that was Parker's attempts at interior design. The shelf liner was warbled and misshapen, cut too short on one side and too long on the other, and at her feet half a yard of wasted material lay sprawled. "Parker! Do you have any idea how expensive this stuff is?"

Parker blinked at her. "Do I—? Of course I do! I was the one that bought it in the first place!" she snarked incredulously.

"Then why are you wasting it?"

"Well—because—I'm not doing it on purpose!" she blustered.

Melissa clearly didn't seem to believe that if her raised brow was anything to go by. As if Parker had woken up that morning with the single goal in mind of making this process as difficult and expensive as possible.

Yeah, right.

Parker hadn't been stealing eggs and bread from her brother's when she visited just for the thrill of the grift.

"The instructions don't make any sense," she continued to defend herself; though, the fact that she needed to in the first place was ridiculous. It was her shop, afterall, and she was the owner. Oh, right. She was the owner. "I knew we shouldn't have done this. The paint and decorations look good enough. Why, oh why, did I let you talk me into doing shelf liners too? You know the books are just going to cover the pattern, right? No one will see them."

That seemed to upset Melissa, and in response, the teenager's entire face contorted into something righteous.

"Firstly," she said, flinging up a electric blue nail, "everyone will see them. The books are only so big, so the liner is still visible even when the shelf is full, and when people take books off the shelf it adds character to the store. And secondly," she continued, ticking another finger up into the air, "I've already finished three whole shelves in the time it's taken you to do half of one. Improperly, too. It's not impossible. You're just bad at it."

"Ugh!" Parker's mouth fell open. "Excuse me. I'm not bad at it."

"Could'a fooled me."

"You know," she snarked while planting her hands firmly onto her hips. Melissa didn't seem intimidated one bit, and she watched as the teenager gently pulled up her crumpled liner. "You're lucky I'm your boss because someone else might fire you for sass like that."

Melissa shot her a blithe look while dropping the ruined liner to the ground. Within seconds, she cut a new piece—perfectly sized—and calmly started lying it down. "Okay, sure, Park. Whatever you say."

"I could!"

"Uh-huh," the girl said again, clearly not buying into the power play for a second. Parker might have taken more offense to that if, well, Melissa wasn't right. She never had an employee before, but Parker didn't handle workplace confrontations well, and she couldn't imagine ever firing anyone. Let alone her best customer.

Still. She could at least pretend to be intimidated.

Before Parker could argue that point, Melissa stepped back from the shelf with a flourish to reveal a perfectly placed, smooth and colorful liner.

"Son of a..." Parker muttered at how easy she had made it look. Not to mention the fact that it did look really good. She could already picture how much character it would add once the shelves were re-stocked with their books. "How did you—?"

"It's honestly so easy. Like, I'm embarrassed for you."

And—yeah.

Parker was definitely dying.

"I liked you better when you only came in once a week," she announced, dropping the wasted paper into the trash bag. "You were a lot nicer then, at least. And you already gave me money instead of costing me heaps of it."

Unbothered, the teen popped her bubblegum with a shrug. "You were a lot cooler then, too."

"What—?" she cried, tracking around the shelf in Melissa's wake. The teenager seemed pretty pleased with herself, and as she giggled into her hand, Parker propped her shoulder against the wall with a glower. "Oh. Hardy-har-har. Hilarious. Let's all pick on Parker; that seems like a fun way to spend the day. How about this? You can finish this little project yourself since it was your idea in the first place."

That managed to wipe the smirk off of her face, and Melissa responded by stomping her foot. "This place is huge! There's no way I can finish this on my own."

"Please," Parker rolled her eyes, not buying that for a moment. "You've done six times as much as me in an hour, and better too. It's like you said—I suck at this."

"I didn't say you suck."

"Bad, suck, they're all the same insult. Are you regretting the sass now?"

Melissa scowled. "Fine. But I want to re-negotiate my salary."

That wiped whatever smug look Parker was wearing off her face in seconds, and as if this was a game of tug-o-war, the smugness transferred back to Melissa in the following seconds. So smug, in fact, that she started humming to herself as she set to work on the next line of shelves.

Shaking her head, Parker couldn't do anything but laugh. "Fat chance of that! You're already robbing me blind with the stupid swear jar. Besides, this whole thing was your idea; you wanted the job, and now you got the job. You don't get to re-negotiate your hourly pay when you've barely been here a month. That's not how employee contracts work."

"America as a late stage capitalistic society is failing and is not what you should be basing a business model on, but if that's how you want to play it, fine. This is a supply and demand market. There's nothing to say I can't negotiate my salary when my needs as an employee go up. Your demand has changed, ergo my supply for you has changed," she chirped, and not for the first time, Parker was wondering when teenagers became so socially aware. When she was Melissa's age, she babysat for five bucks an hour, and most of that was just spent making sure the kids didn't swallow their Gumby doll. Needs of an employee her ass. "Besides, we agreed on that salary when I thought I would have help doing the manual labor."

"You're awfully smart for someone that didn't read the fine print."

Melissa paused in her work to cross one arm over the other. And—fuck—how was she being intimidated by someone wearing a best friends forever necklace?

Saved by the tinkle of the front door bell, Parker broke off their stare down to give the girl a flippant gesture that would definitely not hold up in court as any sort of agreement, before moving towards the front. She didn't even care that they were closed, a customer was more than welcome at the moment. Even a neighborhood cat would do.

Melissa trailed after.

"All I'm saying is—" she started.

"Ah, ah, ah. No money talk in front of customers. It's totally kitsch," Parker chirped over her shoulder.

"It's Sunday. We shouldn't even have customers. Can't we just tell them to leave?"

"And they say good customer service is dead," said customer drawled from the front counter as he pilfered through her bowl of mints. Several clattered to the floor as he tried to dig out his favorite flavor, and with a wince, Parker watched him not-so-subtly nudged them under the counter with his shoe as if it hadn't happened at all. "Er, those were already down there when I got here."

"Ass," she rolled her eyes, bending over to scoop the mints up before mice decided to add themselves onto the list of things she had to deal with. She was already stuck between two pestering leeches, a third infestation was not ideal.

Before Melissa could complain, Parker stuck a dollar into the swear jar.

"Whatever. Tom, we were just—" Melissa pushed past Parker with an exuberance that had been lacking moments before. It deflated the moment she got a better look at him, however, and the girl's grin slipped into a sour frown. She crossed one arm over the other to peer suspiciously at the blonde. "Wait, you're not Tom."

Colt experienced a variety of emotions in a single second, and Parker couldn't help but laugh when he let out an offended squeak.

"What—how does she know Tom?" he hissed.

Parker dumped the fallen mints back into the bowl with a shrug. "He's stopped by before. She's a huge fan. Number one, apparently. She's seen all his stuff."

"Twice," Melissa added.

Parker pointed at her. "Twice," she reiterated, just knowing that it would piss Colt off.

Just as expected, he responded by rolling his eyes with a second, high-pitched groan. It sounded like he was in pain. "You're a fan of Ryder? Seriously?"

Melissa squared her shoulders at him. "Seriously."

"You do know that he wears a wig, right?"

She huffed. "No, he doesn't."

"Uh, yes he does."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does—"

"Okay, that's enough of that," Parker interjected with a groan of her own. What had started off as an amusing blow to her brother's ego was quickly turning into a headache. "Melissa, don't bully him. He has a sensitive ego."

Colt threw his arms up—bowl of mints scattering everywhere—to cry, "Parker! That's not—I don't—who even is this?"

"Who am I? I work here. Who are you?" she shot back, bright eyes narrowed into slits. Parker could imagine her in high-school now, scaring off boys left and right, and if her brother didn't have the mental maturity of a middle schooler, she might have let them argue a little bit longer.

Alas. Colt's weakness was women, and she didn't fancy giving him chest compressions when he inevitably choked on his pride.

"Melissa," she gestured, "this is my brother, Colt. He's a professional stuntman, and has been Tom Ryder's stuntdouble for years. That how I met him in the first place. Colt, this is my new employee, who also happens to be a teenage girl, Melissa."

In unison, the pair gave cagey hmphs.

"Nice to meet you or whatever," Colt sniffed.

"Yeah," she responded with a blithe look. "Totally."

Parker glanced between the pair; both had matching postures, arms crossed, arms averted, neither wanting to acknowledge the other, and she pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh. Although, to be fair, only one of the two was an actual adult. Despite how Melissa might carry herself from time to time.

Remembering this, she steered the conversation back to more important things. "If I step out for lunch with Colt, do you think you can finish the shelf liners? You can invite one or two friends to hang out. If they help, I suppose I can pay them too."

Pettiness forgotten, Melissa gave Parker a wide-eyed look. "Really?"

"Flat rate. Fifty for the day, a max of two friends. Just no posting on instagram or snapchat or—you know—anything else. I don't need social media being my downfall before I even get started."

"Oh my god, you're so old, Parker. Who would even want to cancel you?" Melissa laughed over her shoulder before disappearing towards the back. Her cell phone was already dialing, and by the time she started pasting on liners, her friends were already on their way.

With that taken care of, Parker blinked over at her brother.

"Yes."

Colt, having replaced whatever book he was pretending to read, furrowed his brows at her. "Yes, what?"

"Whatever you're going to suggest we do, yes, please take me away from here before I commit a craft-themed crime."

"Is that a crime?"

"A violent one."

He clicked his tongue, tossing another mint into his mouth with a curious side-eye across the counter. "Maybe I just wanted to stop in and see how things were looking. You were talking about it at the party so much I figured I'd have to see it eventually."

That was a lame excuse and they both knew it. Colt may have been her biggest cheerleader, but her brother didn't know the difference between paint and lacquer. Not to mention that he was red-green colorblind, and would certainly have a hard time noticing any change in paint around them.

"Coooolllltttttt," she whined.

He quirked his brow at her. "Seriously?"

"Please?" she asked, slumping across the counter. When that didn't work she attempted to flutter her eyelashes at him. That only provoked an eyeroll from him, and she deflated with a moan. "I'll ber lurnch," she muttered into her sweater sleeves.

He lifted a finger to his ear, patronizing and provoking all in a single sweeping gesture. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't get that. What did you say?"

Atop her arms, she glared before slowly reiterating, "I'll buy lunch."

That he understood.

The bastard.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" he cooed, and when he attempted to pat her atop the head, Parker swatted him away with a glare. She was already reconsidering going anywhere with him, but a single glance towards what was awaiting her in the back of the shop had her sitting up straight. "I have to go to set today for some wardrobe fittings and thought you'd want to come with. Might as well see how the magic is made. We're gonna be late if you keep moping, though."

"We wouldn't have been late if you didn't get all mouthy with Melissa," she snarked while gathering her things. Feeling a bit guilty about leaving the kid to finish the work, she dug a twenty out of her wallet. "I'll be back later! There's money on the counter to get lunch for you girls!"

She got no response—as a mom rarely did with a teenager—and it took Colt tugging her by the elbow to get Parker to step outside. His truck was parked right in front of a fire hydrant.

She raised a brow at him, utterly unimpressed.

"What?" he asked when he caught the look she was shooting him. And, as if it wasn't a low-stakes crime that he was committing, Colt just grinned. "Relax, grumpy-pants. It's a Sunday. Fire hydrants don't count on Sundays. Now get in before we really are late."

There was a lot to say to that, but Parker didn't bother wasting the energy, and with an easy-going grin of her own, she clambered inside.

---

An hour later and Parker finds herself propped on an overflowing table filled with sewing needles, accessories, pens, papers, and a binder flush with polaroid photos of her brother from every angle. The film's wardrobe department, despite his warnings in the car, was more than thrilled that Colt had brought along his sister, and while he was poked and prodded, shifted left and right on a pedestal for everyone to critique, Parker had been set up with an iced coffee, some freshly made baklava, and front row seats to the most amusing thing she had seen in weeks.

"I think the crotch is too tight," Betty said, tugging on the material with long, sharp fingernails that Colt eyed like they were a sleeping snake. "See how it's bunching, we need to let it out, or maybe—see this? We could try—"

"No, no, no, it doesn't need to be let out," Sasha, a blonde woman with oversized cat-eye glasses tutted. "It's supposed to be tight. Remember?"

"It'll rip."

"It'll be fine."

"I suppose for standing, but I think he'll be wearing them for a running sequence—"

The ladies bickered back and forth, hands clawing too close for comfort at her brother's privates, and every so often he would wince when they tugged a little too hard. Parker, watching all of it, giggled every time it happened.

"How come I've never been brought along to fittings before?" she mused, a Cheshire-like grin in place. He had been standing up there for the lasty forty minutes, and every time she took a sip of her drink, Colt would look a little more green in envy at their difference in treatment. "This is fun."

"Fun," he said, mocking her with an eyeroll. "You come up here and try this."

"I happen to think I would look amazing in those pants. I have the ass for them, anyway," she chirped, and Sasha took a break from her bickering just to laugh at the idea. Beaming, Parker added, "I didn't realize that wardrobe fittings for the stunt double would be so... invasive."

"Yeah, well, usually the pants aren't so tight. That's all thanks to Ryder."

"I bet they look good on Tom," she said, half teasing, half meaning it. Anything looked good on Tom as time had proven again and again; from covered in sweat, puking in a toilet to wearing Gucci brand glasses, she had yet to see the guy look bad. Speaking of, "shouldn't he be here too?"

Colt, adjusting the tight collar of his leather jacket, shot her a look. "He's probably staring at himself in a mirror somewhere. That's how they trap raccoons, you know. They get so distracted by their own reflection that they forget to run off before the coon dogs get them."

"That's not a thing."

"Sure it is," he said, twisting on the pedestal as the ladies started to adjust the inseam of the pants. He eyed their gleaming needles nervously as they continued on their warpath across the fabric. "You should watch Animal Planet sometime. They did a whole episode on it."

"On how to catch raccoons?" Parker reiterated, absolutely not believing her brother for a second.

"It was a special."

"Maybe a Looney Tunes' special," she deadpanned with an eyeroll. Colt's mouth propped open in argument, only to freeze up when two pairs of hands started plucking the fabric across his butt, and she watched his face flush red. "Seriously? You're such a child!"

Being called out, Colt scowled at his sister. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am—you know what?" he caught himself before he could go on his second preschool tirade of the day. Parker sipped her drink with an impish gleam in her eyes. "Whatever. You're supposed to be amusing me, not stirring up shit. Tell me something interesting."

"Sure, Caesar," she rolled her eyes. "What would your highness like to be amused by?

"I don't know! Anything. Like—what were you and Melissa doing today at the shop that had you running scared?"

She blew a raspberry, spinning slightly on the table to snatch up an oversized top hat. She didn't have a clue what sort of movie it would be acceptable for—definitely not a sci-fi one—but she traced the stitching with a bored eye anyways. "Shelf liners. They're way harder than they look, and she can get mean when she wants to be. I swear she acts like she's the boss sometimes."

"Ooooh," he teased. "Scared of a teenager?"

"You should see her first thing in the morning. She must wake up at five am to do her beauty routine, and anyone with that sort of willpower should be feared. I think I'll have to move when she finally saves up for her car. God knows the roadways won't be safe."

"Just because you can't wake up before noon without a liter of coffee doesn't mean everyone else can't. Some people are naturally early risers."

"Says the guy that slept for nineteen hours straight once."

Colt shot her a cross look. "I had a concussion."

"All the morning reason not to sleep that long. Isn't rule number one of head injuries that you're supposed to wake up every so often for a health check?" she asked.

Her brother popped his mouth open to argue, finger poised, before he slowly let it drift down to his side. His silence spoke volumes, however, and she raised her brows at him with a smug smile.

"Oh, like you're so perfect," he huffed irritably.

To which she beamed, plopping the top hat onto her head with a flourish. "Maybe I am. Ever thought about that? I'm pretty, popular with famous people, and am the reigning champion at beerball five years running."

"You cheat at beerball," he snarked before the rest of what she said caught up to him. With a gesture, Colt flexed on the pedestal, adding, "and you're not the only hot Seavers. Look at me? See how these pants are hugging my curves? You wish."

Parker laughed at that, couldn't help it if she tried. Her brother was so ridiculous that at times the way he spewed word vomit surprised even her. Not to mention the fact that he was her brother, best friend on too many planes to count; it was hard not to be in a good mood when hanging with him. Even if she was watching him get pampered like a princess before an upcoming ball.

Speaking of, "so, you don't think Tom will be around?"

Something bewildered cracked across his features at the same time that Sasha and Betty told him to step down from the pedestal. The ladies took their notes to the table, adjusting this and that, while Colt stepped behind a privacy screen. She could hear him grunting as he tried to maneuver out of the pinned clothes without sticking himself.

"Do we need to talk about this?" his voice echoed.

"About what?"

"You. Tom. Whatever weird relationship the two of you have going on," he continued, before yelping when he did stick himself on a pin. Sasha rushed behind the screen to help him get out of the pants, and when she returned, she had the garments in hand. "It's sickening to even think about."

"How is us being friends sickening?" Parker echoed.

"Because—you—he—the guy is an ass!"

"He's not an ass," she argued back, surprising herself at how quickly she came to his defense and how little she actually cared. There were few things her and Colt disagreed on; siblings that knew each other as well as they did often had minor squabbles, but nothing ever world-changing or big. Yet, it didn't feel right to let him say those sorts of things. She could consider why later. "He's just... misunderstood."

"Misunderstood?" his voice pitched behind the screen, before he was stepping out in a totally new suit. It was black and yellow, leather, emboldened with the NASA logo, and for a moment she forgot entirely what they were talking about to ogle it appreciatively.

"Ooh, nice job ladies, I like that one."

Colt paused, glancing down at himself. "It is nice," he said in surprise, twisting and turning in the mirror. As he smoothed the material down, he added, "comfortable too. Is this worn much in the film?"

Betty checked her notes. "Looks like he wears it in a few scenes. Oh, looks like you should be wearing it for a harness drop, so make sure you tell us if it's too tight anywhere," she said as the women headed back over to him with their tape measures and pins. "Good?"

He stretched up and down, left and right, before gesturing to the armpit seams. "Probably could be loosened a bit."

She nodded, and the ladies got to work on that, as Colt returned his attention to his sister. Clearing his throat, he continued their earlier disagreement. "I can't believe you of all people think he's misunderstood."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, hello? Remember the whole coffee thing?"

"I think I understood him perfectly well then," she argued, top hat shifting on her head as she gestured. It was surprisingly heavy, and Parker fixed its lean half-heartedly. "He was an asshole during that encounter, and several encounters since then."

"Then what's with the whole PR parade?"

"I just think he's, I don't know... not always like that."

Colt stared at her; blinking, wide-eyed, with wheels spinning slowly between his ears. She swore she could smell the smoke from there, and Parker prepared herself for whatever ridiculous conclusion he was going to come once the spinning stopped.

"You didn't drink any kool-aid recently did you?"

And, yup. She saw that one coming from a mile away.

"Jesus Christ, Colt," she rolled her eyes, huffing. "When are you going to stop with that Jonestown shit?"

"It was a big deal! More people should be talking about it."

"Yeah, like, three decades ago. No one is trying to copy it with kool-aid. That would be a little bit of an obvious tactic, don't you think? I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm not in a cult!"

He held his hands up to placate her, before dropping them back down at Sasha's disgruntled tsk-ing. Parker supposed the ladies would be amused by their conversation if they weren't so intently focused on their work. That or they would be seriously concerned for the siblings' mental welfare.

"I'm just checking. Cult leaders are hard to spot you know. That's their whole gimmick. They look normal, just like you and me, and then next thing you know—wham! Indoctrination. Cult. Weird clothes and bad bathing habits and no teeth. It's a slide, not stepping stones, Park. Tom Cruise fell for it in the eighties and hasn't gotten out since"

"Yeah, well, I don't have any sort of money to give a potential cult leader so I don't really think I'm a good target in the first place. Plus, Tom Cruise seems to be doing just fine with the whole Scientology thing," she replied drolly. He didn't have an argument to that, and she shook the melting ice in her cup half-heartedly. "All I'm saying is he's under a lot of pressure from a lot of people. Isn't it possible that he overreacts sometimes?"

He didn't look pleased with her line of questioning one bit, shaking his head at her like a disappointed parent. "I don't think you should be friends."

"What?"

"I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

"Now who's drinking the kool-aid?"

"I'm just saying! It's weird," he continued, gesturing to her a second time only for Betty to snatch his arm and tug it back down with a glare. Colt didn't seem to notice, however, as he barreled on in the way that idiots often did. "First, it's the bookstore. Normal, no biggie. Then, it's the little giggling and laughter. Odd, but whatever. But then, all of the sudden, he has an invite to my exclusive birthday party—"

She threw her head back with a groan, top hat tumbling to the table. "I already apologized for that!"

"—and next thing you know, our Friday night is being highjacked by some ritzy party in upper LA where I have to wear my nice shoes and act like an adult. I'm telling you—rockslides only take a pebble."

"Are you saying you didn't have fun?" she asked with a pointed look, to which her brother hedged and hawed instead of answering. Like a guilty dog that knew it was in trouble, he avoided eye contact. Replacing the top hat onto her head, she waved her hands around. "See? So what's the problem? You got along then, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then isn't it possible you misjudged him too?"

"I've known him a lot longer than you."

"But you've never actually spent time with him outside of work."

"For good reason."

"Really? Because you always seem to get along when I'm around," she continued, not ready to let the point go if only because she needed it to stick. "So, how good can the reason be? Maybe he's grown up since you first met him, and you just don't want to accept that."

It was a solid argument, they both knew that.

But Colt was as stubborn as she was. He sniffed. "Well, I still don't like it. Is something going on between you two?"

"Like what?" she asked, despite knowing exactly what was going on between the two of them.

They had kissed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then a few more times until she couldn't really remember what was happening. All she knew was one moment they were kissing and the next moment she was riding home with Colt and Jody, bewildered, breathless, and giddy.

"I have no clue what you're on about," she said despite knowing exactly what he was on about, deciding that gaslighting her brother might be the best option at the moment. "We're just friends."

"Well, obviously," he scoffed, as if anything else was beyond the scope of his imagination.

Which—fair.

She couldn't exactly begrudge him for thinking that there was no chance in hell Parker could kiss someone like Tom Ryder. She could barely believe it, and she was the one that had done it. Still, she scowled at him, contemplating it she wanted to drop the subject entirely or tell him in explicit detail all the reasons he was an idiot, but before she could, the fitting room door opened, and in he walked.

He looked good.

He always looked good.

But today he looked especially good with his dewy skin and jean jacket. Or, maybe, Parker was just looking at him in a new light, and when his gaze landed on her, she couldn't help but grin at him.

"Hey, Tom," she said with a little too much enthusiasm. If he thought it was odd, however, he didn't comment on it. Just ran his gaze over her.

"Nice hat. I'm glad you're finally taking my advice and trying to improve your style, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"The—? Oh!" Parker snatched the top hat off her head with a blush, and in face of her karma, Colt snorted with pleased laughter. Ass. She shot him a side-eye before chirping, "it's Colt's, actually. I told him it looked ridiculous, but the prom is coming up, and Jody is just so exited. You should see his cummerbund. Straight out of the eighteen hundreds."

That effectively wiped the smirk off his face, and Colt started to argue just as Betty ushered him towards the privacy screen for another fitting.

Pleased, she blinked back at Tom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Colt dragged me along for his fittings. Something about being scared of the fashion department team," she joked in a half-whisper, gesturing to where he was hidden behind the privacy screen knowing that he wouldn't be able to hear her. "What are you doing here?"

"I just finished my fittings."

She perked. "Oh, you're done, then?"

He nodded just as Colt re-appeared from behind the screen. The flight suit had been replaced with a suave looking tuxedo that seemed to fit wrong in every place it could, and without knowing fashion at all, Parker had a feeling it would be a while before they finished pinning this particular look. Feeling both rebellious and like a high-schooler with a crush, she cast her brother a look. He immediately caught it, and returned one of his own.

Don't you dare, he said.

She lifted a brow testily. Oh, I dare, the look said.

And just like that, Parker faced Tom and asked, "you want to get lunch?"

"With you two?"

"I don't think Colt will be finished for awhile," she said, mock sincerity in her voice. Her brother heard it, face blustered and annoyed, as she batted her lashes across the room at him. "We could always bring him back something."

"But—!" Colt cried, gesturing at them so hard that he almost whacked Sasha in the head. He didn't even notice in his rush to argue, and it took both seamstresses to position him on the pedestal where they wanted him. "We were gonna get lunch!"

"Well, you're not done, and I'm starving."

"I—I could be done. Right?" he asked, turning his own version of puppy dog eyes towards Sasha and Betty. Unlike Jody and their mom, however, it seemed that they were immune to his charms, and together, they tutted at him. "...but—but!"

"This one needs a lot of work on it," Sasha said, as Betty patted him on the back. "And there's still four more looks to get through before we move you to hair and makeup for mock-ups."

"But—!"

"Don't worry Colt," she cooed at him with a victorious grin, and she would have felt bad for abandoning him if he hadn't been so adamant about his opinion on who she could be friends with. Plus, he accused her of being in a cult four times a year; this was his penance. "We'll bring you back something."

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Tom asked her once they were in the safety of the hallway.

Parker gave an impish look. "Just Colt being Colt. He gets mopey when he's hungry. Is Mexican okay? I really am starving."

His amusement turned scathing. "Mexican? That's all carbs. No fucking way, I just had my fitting done this morning, and I'm not going to have my pants let out."

She rolled her eyes. "Carbs are good for you," she tutted.

"Not that many."

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

Tom blinked at her—as if he couldn't believe she would suggest such a childish solution—and started off down the hallway without another word.

"Well—we can do two out of three!" she cried in his wake, and it wasn't until he disappeared around the corner did she realize that he might actually leave her to deal with Colt alone. Yelping, she rushed after him. "Okay, okay! Fine! Sushi?"

---

"I can't believe you actually eat this stuff," Parker whined twenty minutes later, a salad with more vegetables than she could name, quinoa, and some sort of vinaigrette dousing the top set out in front of her. The lettuce is limp when she lifts it with a fork, and she can't even pretend to find it appetizing as Tom munches through his. "Like, seriously? I'm not about to be Punk'D?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "You have to be famous to be Punk'D."

"I'm with you, aren't I?" she sassed, prodding the food like a toddler not allowed to leave the table before finishing their peas. She wrinkled her nose at the idea. "I get that salad is healthy or whatever, but don't you ever eat anything that tastes good?"

"This does taste good."

She shot him a look of disbelief to which he shrugged.

"I mean, kind of good," he corrected after a moment.

"It's disgusting. Why is it both limp and hard? You know an entire ethnic community eats all the carbs associated with Mexican food and they're thriving. Have you ever seen a Cinco de Mayo party? Unreal how much fun they're having."

"That's because they're drunk on tequila."

"Well, sure," she hedged, head tipping left and right as she tried to ignore the weird smell coming from the bowl in front of her. "But you gotta live a little, right?"

"I don't want to live a little," he corrected her, spitting out the word like it was distasteful. But he had that same sort of tone that he used when he was repeating something he heard a thousand times, but didn't necessarily believe. "I want to live to be a hundred, and I want to look good while doing that."

"Colt eats Mexican food," she argued.

"Colt isn't the face of a multi-million dollar movie franchise."

"No, just the body."

"Maybe you should have just gone out to lunch with Colt, then," he said, both look and tone cross.

And suddenly Parker felt like she had ceremoniously swallowed her foot in front of him. It hadn't occurred to her that he might have a touchy relationship with food, and guilt settled on her shoulders like a weight. She felt pretty stupid for not seeing that—just like she had told Colt, the amount of pressure he was under at all times was not something either sibling would be able to comprehend—and five minutes into lunch she had already made an ass of herself.

"Sorry," she said, stuffing limp lettuce into her mouth as if to prove that she agreed with him. It tasted gross, though, and Tom definitely didn't miss the way she had to choke it down. "Mhmm, it's so... salad-y."

Whether it was her tone or the look she made while saying it, something about the act worked, and when he shook his head she caught the edges of a smile peeking across his face.

Feeling better, Parker aimed for more neutral territory.

"So, your party was fun," she said, before immediately realizing that was clearly not a neutral territory if the way he paused in his chewing was anything to go by. The last thing she wanted was to come across as some sort of lovesick teenager, and she nearly choked on her tongue to add, "I just mean—Colt and Jody really liked it. She got to network a lot. Plus, Colt has been dying to see your house for, like, ever."

"He has?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "You guys have worked together for almost a decade. I think he's always wondered what your life outside of work looked like."

Tom digested that information as slowly as he digested his food, and she managed another bite of soggy, lemon-flavored lettuce before he decided on a reaction. "I didn't realize that he really cared."

"What do you mean?"

Tom shrugged; one of the rare moments he actually looked awkward while talking about something, and Parker set aside her fork to wash the bad flavor down with some bitter tasting kombucha.

Bad. It was all bad. The health food industry had to be some sort of joke.

"I don't know; just never really thought about hanging out with Colt outside of the set. I told you the stunt guys don't like me."

"What?" she deadpanned. "You? That is such shocking news. I'm shocked."

Tom huffed, then laughed, before shaking his head at her. "Don't be an ass."

"Me? Never."

"Never," he echoed, clearly mocking her. She didn't mind though. It wasn't vindictive or mean, and if it made him feel better, her ego could handle a little mocking banter. Especially when his shoulders relaxed as if a weight was being taken off them. "Whatever. Glad they, uh, had fun."

"Well, you know—open bar, secrets about the Hollywood elite. What wasn't there to like about the party?"

He nodded, another bite taken, as Parker miserably tried to force herself to eat her own food. When he had suggested a vegan salad spot, she hadn't been thrilled, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine it would be this bad.

"Did, uh," he cleared his throat, "you enjoy the party?"

"Hm?" she hummed, not properly hearing the question as she tried to figure out if the brown thing in her bowl was a raisin or a date. Then she did, and Parker blinked up to find Tom watching her carefully. "Oh. Yeah. Yes. I had, you know, lots of fun. With Colt, Jody, er... you."

He glanced away, nodding, before peeking back at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was... it was nice. I mean—not just the, er—you know. Not just when you—when I—when we..." she overemphasized, face hot and red as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. She absolutely didn't want to sound like their kiss was the only thing she had thought about all weekend, but she also didn't want to act indifferent because dating had somehow drifted into a game of tag nowadays.

Not that they were dating.

Oh god.

It was one kiss. Obviously they weren't dating, and he probably hadn't even thought about it a second time, and that's probably not what he was asking about in the first place, and—she was obsessing, wasn't she?

Oh, god.

"...um," Parker choked, swallowing some more kombucha before remembering she actually hated the taste of it. Wiping her mouth, she slumped onto the table with an embarrassed sigh. "Can you just put me out of my misery, please?"

Tom lifted a brow. "You might do that yourself. Are you having a stroke?"

"Maybe."

He passed over his cup of water, and Parker took a couple small sips until her cheeks didn't feel so hot. He was still watching her, still eating his food, but it was clear from the sparkle in his eye and the smug curve of his mouth that he was greatly enjoying the show. "Just wanted to make sure you had fun," he said.

"I would have had fun if we just played twenty questions," she said, catching the way he hesitated in his eating, before continuing. The cocky gleam was gone from his eye, and something kind remained when he glanced at her. "Not to complain about the... other stuff, but I meant everything I told you. I don't hang out with you for an open bar."

Tom's gaze swept the planes of her face before he nodded. It was a confident nod, for once, and he spoke he almost sounded... happy.

"Well, that's a relief at least. With how much you drink, I'm a little worried between you and Gail I'm going to go bankrupt this year. I swear every party costs more and more."

"Can't you set a budget?"

"It's Hollywood," he deadpanned, and she supposed that was an obvious enough answer that the deadpanning was necessary. "You think anything is ever under-budget?"

Parker wouldn't really know; the only thing she stuck to a budget for was Bath & Body Works lotions and Uber Eats. Just like he had said though, if she didn't, she was confident that she would be bankrupt within days.

Shrugging, she quipped, "next time you can just invite Jody and I. By keeping Colt away, you'll probably spare yourself a few thousand on alcohol alone. Though, he did behave himself last time since he was the designated driver, but I swear he's put a few bars out of business from Happy Hour deals alone."

Tom, another heaping of lettuce down, jabbed a fork at her. "Think I'd be better keeping you away considering how many napkins you took."

"Oh, shut up. They're, like, fifty cents each!"

"You had at least a hundred in you purse when you left."

"Well—" she threw her arms up, blustering, "it's not like I took all of them. Plus, when I sell them on eBay I'll give you a commission. Unlike when you got this fancy sci-fi role. I'm still waiting on my agent's fee for that one."

He shook his head at her. "Yeah, just hold your breath on that one."

With all the maturity she could muster, Parker stuck her tongue out at Tom, and with all the maturity he could muster, he chucked a carrot at her. It bounced onto the patio ground, and she noticed with a look of betrayal that not even the local squirrel population would touch it.

"Tom," she leaned forward, "I am begging you. I need carbs."

"You don't—"

"I'm going to die. Dramatically. And not quietly. Everyone will know, and they're going to think you killed me, and the tabloids will never let that go. Forgot living to a hundred, you'll be seventy and in a retirement home. Please."

Her pleading did nothing.

So, taking drastic measures, Parker used all of her own acting experience to flutter her eyelashes at him, eyes wide and dog-like. And whether it was the pathetic way she threw herself onto the table, or maybe it was the smell of the hotdog cart from down the street, but after a long moment of begging, Tom's shoulder sank with a sigh.

"Jesus Christ, fine."

"Oh, thank god," she slumped, a disgruntled look towards her salad and kombucha before the idea of real food had her perking right back up. She had tossed their stuff in the trash before Tom could manage one more bite of his salad, and though he tried to look disgruntled by that fact, when she tugged him to his feet with a giggle, he was fighting off a smile. "Have you ever had the monster burrito from Lolita's? It has cream cheese and pickles."

"That sounds disgusting."

"I know!" she bounced in excitement, pulling him along after her, gabbing all the way.

Tom let her drag him down the street without any complaint, let her order him her favorite burrito, chips, and Mexican lemonade without arguing—though he did try to see the calorie count on the menu before she snatched it away from him—and because they were on an empty set on a Sunday no one paid them much mind.

A good thing, too, because if someone had, they might have noticed the goofy grin she was wearing, or the amused smile he was; and if they looked closer, they might have even noticed that even after they got to where they were going, Tom Ryder was still holding her hand as they waited in line, letting her lean against his chest as they waited on their orders, before sitting awfully close to her on a little stone bench outside.

But, no one noticed.

Not until her shrill ringtone broke through their game of twenty questions about an hour later as her brother complained about how hungry he was. And though he suspected something weird was going on, not even Colt noticed the sly smiles they shared with one another when they delivered his food as promised or the spot of wet lipgloss smeared on Tom Ryder's mouth.

#falling without a harness #tom ryder #tom ryder x ofc #original female character #original character #tom ryder series #tom ryder imagine #colt seavers #the fall guy #the fall guy imagine #the fall guy series

38 notes · View notes

evadingreallife · 1 year

Text

I like so many of them both for the music and the visuals, tell me in the tags why you like them!! Or hate them i guess...

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma #fmab #fma brotherhood #fma 03 #tbh my absolute favorite is again #the song the visuals the PATHOS #but i love almost all the others too #especially rain melissa and rewrite #ive had all the fma&fmab openings on my playlist for so long shzhshjahKld #polls #october 3rd #the art of making polls to poll

274 notes · View notes

tgmsunmontue · 1 month

Text

Saga of Solitude 10/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008)

CHAPTER TEN - 2009

“I think I might be done.”

Tom almost drops the phone and he sits up straighter, knuckles tight.

“What?”

“You heard me. I think I might be done. Not with flying. Just… active duty. Think I might try out for that test pilot program you keep leave lying around. You’re not subtle.”

“Mav…”

“Best of both worlds right? I still get to fly, but I’m not on the other side of the world. I feel like I’ve been lucky so far, but I don’t want to…”

He doesn’t finish whatever it is he’s thinking, but Tom can fill in the blanks with a multitude of endings. There’s Bradley of course, but he’s twenty-five. But Tamsin is only twelve and Petra is ten. He knows Mav doesn’t want to leave any of them. He could add himself in there, if he thought that maybe he was enough for Mav to consider giving up active duty. He’s never been enough before, and he’d never be a fool enough to ask Mav to stop doing something he loves, no matter how much Tom worries.

The days tick past and he hasn’t felt this settled or optimistic since Mav briefly took a break and simply remained in reserves when Carole got sick. Just the knowledge that he won’t be on active duty in a war zone makes him feel ridiculously pleased, even if at the same time he worries about Bradley. Lord he’s glad that the girls are local and he doesn’t need to worry about them other than standard parenting worries. He hopes they pick nice quiet and safe jobs, because as he gets older, he’s not sure his heart is going to take it if it has the same series of shocks it’s experienced with Maverick.

His next phone conversation doesn’t happen until a couple of weeks later and he finds out the Maverick has requested all the paperwork necessary and submitted an application. He doesn’t let his shock bleed through, but he definitely feels it, accompanied by the realization that when Mav gets home from this deployment he won’t be leaving American soil for a mission again, not if he gets any say in the matter. And he knows someone will ask. He may love Maverick, but he also isn’t blind to any of his faults and his peers know that at least.

“I’m 48, they probably think I’ve calmed down enough in my old age to give me a shot right?”

Ice keeps his mouth shut, because he’s made it a rule to try not to lie and he doesn’t think anyone in the Navy will ever assume Maverick has calmed down.

“You’re definitely qualified for the position. They’d be lucky to have you,” is what he settles on instead.

… … …

“Can we have a movie night daddy?”

“Of course. As long as the two of you can both compromise on one movie and not argue over it,” Tom says, because listening to them bicker gets exhausting. He knows he’s giving Melissa and Sarah a break most weekends by having them come and stay with him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way, but he finds himself admiring parents who do it all the time with no break in sight. He is so grateful that he has them, but he’s also certain that they enjoy Bradley’s company over his, with them all sharing equal levels of energy.

“Kung Fu Panda!”

Tom looks between them and they’re both nodding vigorously; he feels like he’s been set up, tempted to message Sarah and check in to see whether this particular movie has been vetoed for any particular reason. It seems completely benign and he watches it, entertained by the different characters and enjoying having his daughters curled up on either side of him. Tamsin is drifting off, clearly not quite as engaged with the story as Petra, but he’s not going to rouse her and tell her to go to bed, happy to have her slumped against him. It’s not until later, when he’s carried Tamsin, still asleep, up to her bed and come back down to find Petra chopping at the pillows that he realizes his mistake.

“Daddy? Can I have kung fu lessons?”

Of course, the warning was right there in the title of the movie. He should have known. She is such a daredevil and so full of energy and god she reminds him of Pete with every smile. He knows he can never say no to her, the best he can do is delay and hope that either she forget (unlikely), or someone else will tell her no.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Okay! Love you daddy. Good night!”

“Love you too peanut. Good night…”

… … …

He swings his bag over his shoulder, feels buoyant as he walks toward the spot where everyone is disembarking. He knows he’s got his family waiting and he’s got four more weeks before Mav finishes his own deployment, has spoken to him about his plans to withdraw from active duty if his application for test pilot training is accepted and Bradley knows they won’t be turning someone with Mav’s experience down. But there are two golden weeks where all seven of them will be together and he cannot wait.

“Expect your wife is going to make you shave that off before she lets you within five yards of her…” Bradley calls out to Flipper, who just laughs and gives him the finger.

“Like you can grow a better one!” Fin yells back and Bradley laughs.

“I can grow a better moustache in my sleep.”

“Photos, or it didn’t happen!”

“You’re on!”

… … …

“I’m not a baby Bradley…”

“You’re not even half my age,” Bradley replies, trying his best to keep his amusement from his tone. Tamsin will be a teenager at the end of the year, something he’s sort of in denial about, can still remember his early days of being a teenager himself and Sarah carefully placing infant Tamsin in his arms.

“Which makes you ancient.”

“If I’m ancient, what does that make your dad?”

“A zombie. Have you seen him?”

Bradley snorts, because Ice definitely looks half-dead, but he’s putting that down to his worry over Maverick, who is in the Middle East, but he should be home in about a week. Not soon enough judging from the dark circle under Ice’s eyes. Although the fact that Ice is for some reason now letting Petra try out a variety of martial arts may also be part of his worry. But it means he gets one-on-one time with Tamsin, who definitely seems to have something on her mind.

“Bradley.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’ll stop changing the subject. Hit me with the serious question you wanted to ask me.” God he hopes it isn’t about sex.

“Do you think my parents loved each other?”

Fuck. Sex would be easier. Maybe?

“Uh… Why do you ask?”

Shit. He is not equipped for this conversation at all.

“I just… they seem to love each other. I don’t get why they got divorced.”

Oh. Okay. Maybe he is equipped to answer this after all.

“Well, you know your mom is a lesbian right?”

“So getting married and having me and Petra was a mistake?”

Double shit. Reverse. Undo. Back track. Fuck.

“No. I’m pretty sure it was anything but a mistake. I think you and Petra are both very wanted and much loved. Uh. Have you talked to any of your parents about this?”

“No. I don’t want to upset them.”

He’s trying to remember how old he was when they told him, how old he was when he figured it out. He knows Ice and Sarah won’t be upset, that they’ve probably been prepared for this conversation for years. And yet she’s having it with him.

“I just wonder sometimes because I look at Petra and she looks so much more like Papa than she does dad. I look like dad. Petra looks at least a little bit like mom.”

“Uh. Yeah. I noticed that too. That’s very observant of you.”

Where the fuck is Ice when he needs him?

“Do you think my mom had an affair?”

“No. I know she didn’t… shit.”

“You’re not meant to swear.”

“Yeah. I know. This is just… I really think you need to talk to your mom and dad about this.”

“Why? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”

“Fuck…” Bradley breathes out.

“You’re really not meant to say that word…”

“Yeah. Okay. I’m going to tell you. But I’m going to be telling your parents, all of them, that I’ve told you. So you can go and talk with them and ask questions, because… I was your age when your parents got married. I do not have all the details.”

“Okay. So tell me, what happened?”

He gives the bare bones, explains, as best he can, about DADT. Agrees with her when she calls it stupid. Talks about his own parents and how both Ice and Mav married women, his mom being one of them, Sarah being the other. He ends up getting a picture of his parents from his room to show her and then holding her as she cries, realizing that he’d lost both his parents when he’d been her age.

He explains how and why Ice and Mav hide their relationship, that he also won’t be bringing a girlfriend home anytime soon. Isn’t planning on having a relationship anytime soon because it’s simply in the too hard basket. Then he brings up the fact that she is very observant, that Petra does indeed look like Mav, and that’s because Mav is her biological dad. Her eyes are wide, mouth open in surprise and he wonders if he’s said too much. Hopes like hell that trusting his gut is going to have been the right thing to do, that Mav and Ice letting him know about his own mom’s wishes and then letting him make his own decisions about his own life. That they’d want Tamsin to also know the truth of the matter, especially as she’s asking questions.

“Can I swear?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Holy shit.”

Bradley throws back his head and laughs.

… … …

Knowing that this is his last time is bittersweet. He walks over the deck and lets his fingers trail over the railing. He didn’t join to live his life on a carrier, being on a carrier is just a necessity for somewhere for the planes to land and refuel before they can get back into the sky. He misses the sky every time he’s on the ground, needs the wide open spaces which is why he likes going out to the hangar so much, the sheer amount of space around him makes it feel like he’s close to being in the sky. As he disembarks he can see Bradley standing and waiting, Tamsin and Petra beside him and his throat works, because he’s home, and safe, and he won’t have to leave them again wondering if he’ll not make it home.

… … …

“Jesus kid, you look like you dad.”

“Uh. Sorry. Do you want me to shave it?”

“No!” Pete says, vehement. “Shit Bradley. You’re allowed to look like your dad. You do that without even trying. Just took me by surprise. He’d be tickled pink and so proud of you. Your mom would be too, scared shitless every time you were out of sight, but she’d still be so proud. We’re proud of you too you know. All of us. Ice, Sarah, Melissa. You’ve turned into this amazing capable man and I’m immensely proud to call you my son…”

“Uh. Thanks. I think you all had a lot to do with how I’ve turned out…”

“We tried to help point you in the right direction, but you’re the one who put in the hard work.”

“And you and Ice taught me all about hard work.”

“I guess we did.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, you can ask me anything.”

“When you taught me how to shave… did you feel old?”

“Old? No. Not old. But… a little sad I guess?”

“Sad?”

“Well, that your dad wasn’t the one teaching you. That you weren’t this little kid anymore. I was glad I got to be there for it… You planning on keeping that caterpillar?”

“No. Just growing it for a dare. Why?”

“I have something of your dad’s. He was ridiculously proud of his moustache, had this little kit that your mom bought him, little comb and brush, little pair of scissors. Been keeping it safe, if you end up needing it for your own then I guess I better get it out of storage…”

“I… thanks Mav. I’ll be shaving it off before I report back though. Too annoying to maintain and keep tidy.”

“Okay. Well, you let me know if you change your mind.”

… … …

“You want to do my hair?”

“Yeah! Can we but bows in it?”

“Have at it,” Bradley says, so glad they’re both still willing to be a little silly with him. He knows with the current state of the US military he’s never going to have kids, not unless he figures something out with Natasha and he doesn’t think she’d put her career on hold and he wouldn’t expect her to. So he will make do with what he has and enjoy it as much as he can in the moment, knows Tamsin is very much on the cusp of not doing this again, is simply

“Why don’t you always let it grow long?”

“Navy doesn’t allow us to have long hair.”

“They Navy is dumb,” Tamsin says, pouting as she runs a sparkly purple comb through his curls, and Bradley bites down on his lips to hide a grin. She’s been quite vocal to him about how stupid she thinks the whole institution is, although very careful not to say it within hearing of either Ice or Mav. Although Mav has just appeared in the door, eye bright with mischief as he takes in the scene.

“You look very pretty Bradley.”

“Thank you. They worked very hard to make me look this good.”

“Papa! Come sit!”

Bradley laughs at the expression on Mav’s face, but then he’s sinking to the floor beside him and Petra is putting bows in his hair as well and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen Mav look happier. The dark circles under Ice’s eyes have also gone so Bradley is pretty sure everything is right with their world.

… … …

Tamsin looks miserable and Bradley isn’t sure what he can do, needs to immediately fix whatever it is that is making her look like this. They’ve grown closer during this leave period, with their conversation making her feel more like an adult, at least with him. Fortunately he’d been commended for how he’d handled the conversation with her, the approval of all his parental figures had hit him hard and unexpected, not aware how much he still wanted and needed it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh. You look sad though.”

“I’m allowed to be sad!” Tamsin snaps and Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Can you tell me why you’re sad?”

“I can’t go swimming…”

Bradley blinks, confused.

“Um. Why not?”

“Because I have my period.”

He rears back, the shock of the fact and the straightforward statement taking him completely by surprise. Sure they were like brother and sister, but this was new.

“Since when?”

“Since this morning. It’s not contagious. Stop looking at me like that!”

“Um. Sorry. Just, uh, I kind of… you’re growing up I guess and that’s just…”

“Making you feel really old?”

“Yeah, little bit. Shit.”

“You think it’s shit for you? You’re not the one that has to have it every month…”

“I apologize on behalf of my entire gender.”

“Good. You should be sorry.”

He bites his lip and nods his head, holy hell she’s going to be a force to be reckoned with and he really should have invited Natasha home with him. Next time.

“How about we go ice skating instead?”

“Oh! Yes! But don’t let Petra bully you into playing hockey. She can wait until the season starts again.”

“Petra is playing hockey?”

“Duh. She tried field hockey but then complained it wasn’t fast enough. I think mom is a little worried she’s going to steal the car and take it for a ride.”

“Ha. Hahahaha,” Bradley laughs nervously, because hold shit if he didn’t already know she was Mav’s kid, hearing that she likes things fast and a little dangerous. “How is her skateboarding going?”

“Good. She’s managing some really cool things now. We should go to the skatepark so she can practice.”

“You’re a good big sister.”

“Thanks. I had a good big brother to show me what not to do.”

“Hey!”

“Kidding! I love you Bradley.”

“Love you too Tamsin.”

… … …

With a sense of dejavu he reads the news. Gay marriage has been legalized in Iowa and also Vermont. That’s four different states now. It’s like a domino effect and after decades of hiding.

… … …

“Sir.”

“Aubrey. What is it.”

“Sorry sir. Nothing.”

From experience Tom knows it is definitely not nothing. Aubrey takes her breaks with all the other support staff and has some convoluted but incredibly invaluable way of hearing of things before they become issues which he then finds he has to deal with.

“Clearly it isn’t nothing. What have you heard this time?”

He hasn’t told her about his little note-book, but he suspects she has something similar, even if it’s only in her own head.

“You’ve known Captain Mitchell for a long time sir.”

Inwardly Tom groans to himself, wonders what the hell he’s done now.

“Yes. Over twenty years.”

“A good friend then sir.”

“Yes. My best friend.”

She looks torn then and he frowns, wonders what she knows that he potentially hasn’t already heard about from someone else in the Navy. Maverick is not known for being quiet or passing unnoticed, which is why he suspects that their relationship has gone unremarked upon for so many years, many people assuming Maverick could not keep something like that secret.

“Maverick was seen going into your ex-wife’s house… at nearly midnight.”

He doesn’t let his surprise show, because while he knows there is gossip he’d never expected to hear it from his assistant. Also this is something he knows about, because Maverick took his car, because the bike would have been far too noisy at midnight.

“Okay. Just to be clear, you think that Maverick is having an affair with my ex-wife?”

“Isn’t he meant to be your best friend sir?”

Oh. Wow. There goes the idea that she had clocked him.

“Okay. Yes. He is my best friend. In fact his late-wife, Bradley’s mom, introduced me to Sarah. However Sarah and Maverick are grown consenting adults… However, if we’re talking about last week, well Maverick was there because Melissa was working a night shift, Sarah and the girls were sick and I couldn’t risk getting sick and Mav is on leave…”

“Oh.”

He swallows nervously, because he’d sort of assumed that she had put everything together, that he and Mav were more than just friends. However the fact that she thinks… well, thought. Until he just cleared that up.

“Melissa? The woman Captain Mitchell brought to the dinner last year?”

“Yes. My ex-wife’s… wife,” Tom provides, and this is potentially where all his well-craft duplicity comes undone, however he’s never been wrong yet with where he’s laid his trust.

“Oh. Oh. Sir.”

“Was there a question in there Aubrey?”

“No sir. Not at all. You have a very lovely family.”

“Yes. I consider myself very lucky to have them all in my life.”

“Just so sir.”

… … …

(LONELY NIGHTS FITS HERE - Bradley and Jake hook up the weekend before they both report to Corpus Christi.)

… … …

He’s known in the pit of his stomach that he and Jake were reporting to the same base, however he hadn’t realized that Jake was also a naval aviator and that means their circles of interactions are overlapping too much for his own liking. He doesn’t speak with Jake directly, doesn’t let any sign of recognition show on his face as they’re introduced. Jake is fresh from USNA, bright and eager and smart and also so fucking talented that Bradley can see why he’s here. Without even being aware of it he finds himself tracking Jake’s movements and god, he needs to get it under control and figure out a way to be more subtle otherwise he’s going to bring them both down.

He wonders if he’d still have slept with him if he’d known.

He needs to talk to Ice and Mav and figure out how they keep it hidden, because he’s worked too hard to get where he is to let it all crumble apart now.

… … …

“Sir. Captain Mitchell is here to see you.”

“Of course. Thank you Aubrey. Captain Mitchell, nice to see you again.”

“And you Admiral.”

He doesn’t miss the fact that she makes Maverick a cup of coffee.

… … …

Bradley’s normal Saturday afternoon phone call is usually with Mav, and he’s just about to offer to go and get him when it becomes apparent that Bradley maybe wants to talk to him first, words exploding out of him.

“How do you do it? Have your relationship with Mav and settle for… this weird half-life?”

God he hopes Bradley is somewhere he can’t be overheard.

“When it’s that, or the option of not having him in my life at all? It’s an easy decision.”

On the other end of the line Bradley sucks in a breath, Tom isn’t sure how to take it. Wonders what the hell Bradley has gotten up to when he’s not even been gone two weeks.

“He’s a rank below me.” It’s Tom’s turn to suck in a sharp breath, but a single rank isn’t unsurmountable. Not when it’s low and there isn’t a large differential of power. “I didn’t even know he was Navy when we hooked up the first time.”

“The first time?”

“Well, the first time rolled into the second and then… a couple of days and nights together.”

“Jesus Bradley. Are you sure he’s not going to make a complaint against you?”

“I’m not completely sure, but I don’t think he would. He might not like me very much right now, but I don’t think he hates me and would want to implode my career.”

“Shit Bradley. Look. It’s going to be hard either way. Being with him, not being able to tell anyone, spending months apart, having to pretend you don’t care about him anymore than any other of your shipmates… But that type of hard can be worth it when you come home to each other. Or you make a hard decision now and cut your losses, walk away from it and then always wonder what might have happened…”

“Yeah. I’ve already cut my losses.”

“Okay kid. Okay.”

… … …

“Hey Mav.”

“Bradley. You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just… you know that moustache kit of my dads?”

“Yes.”

“Could you send it to me?”

“Of course buddy. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just… figured I’d try keeping it for a bit. Someone told me I suited it.”

“Well, they weren’t wrong.”

… … …

On Monday when Tom gets to work he asks Aubrey to collate a list of all current personnel going through flight school at Corpus Christi. Knows one of them is going to be Bradley’s maybe unwise hook-up.

He also asks her to get him a new note book.

CHAPTER ELEVEN (2010)

#Saga of Solitude #IceMav #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #Hangster

30 notes · View notes

nilusanimationworld · 1 year

Text

Yo! As it is its been difficult for me to accept the fact Jennifer Yuh Nelson not being involved in KFP4 movie but I also just found out that even

MELISSA COBB IS NOT INVOLVED IN THE MOVIE!! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!?!?!

MY IDOLS!! MY QUEENS!! BOTH OF MY QUEENS!?! BOTH NOT INVOLVED?!?!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!?!?!!?

#kung fu panda #kung fu panda 4 #kfp #kfp4 #dreamworks #THE MORE IM TRYING TO STAY HOPEFUL HERE THE MORE THE INFO IS TESTING ME #I JUST HAVE LIKE 15% OR 10% HOPE NOW REMAINING!#PLEASE GIVE US SOME HOPEFUL NEWS #SOME POSITIVE INFO #jennifer yuh nelson #melissa cobb #I'M TIRED

35 notes · View notes

msookyspooky · 9 months

Text

Fours a Franchise

Part 12

Wordcount: 8,567

Omfg I got the flu for a week, had a family fued that lasted months between my aunt and...EVERYONE. But thankfully my younger cousin I'm super close to is living with her Dad/My Uncle now after months of this bs so finally there's peace, then in-between this fued and my cousin moving out I got covid and ong I have been foggy headed for 2 weeks afterwards I'm just starting to feel like my normal self again....THEN Wattpad kicked me out of my account. From September till now has been an out of body experience in a bad way 🙃

So thank you all for your support and patience I appreciate it 🖤 but I am so done wracking my brain over this chapter so we're just winging it rn bc I want to write and get past this hump to finish this story then start on 5. So if I missed info or a typo or misplaced lore from previous books *No I did not*~

Annnnddd my motivation with recent Scream news.

The news of Scream 7 is so disheartening and screwed up with Sam and Tara's actresses. So I cannot promise I'm writing till 6 or 7 not only because I'm losing my hyper fixation for Scream after these 2 years but no Tara, Sam, Sidney and most likely no Stu because Matthew is a real one and wouldn't come back after how they treated Neve and Melissa so like? What's the point? This book and 5 I am for sure doing because Billy meeting Sam is a huge writing motive for me. 6 is iffy but 7? I am not. Not only do I not have the motivation to write that much more for this story but it's pointless with so much of Scream being written like bad fanfiction the last 2 installments...Hell, I could do that! But I won't because I probably won't even watch Scream 7 if they make it. The Studio has screwed over Neve and Melissa in ways that I really don't want to support.

Anyways, thank you for the patience. I appreciate all of you! ♡♡♡♡

—————————————

Ghostface grabbed your ankle and you hit the stairs. Hard. But the second they went to stab you, you kicked them as hard as you could in the knee sending them flying back and tumbling down the stairs.

Jill grabbed your arm. "Come on, YN!" As you both bolted for Kirby's room…Kirby had gotten separated during the chase and you didn't know where she was.

Jill locked the door and told you. "The balcony!"

"There's no other way out?"

"You can jump, maybe, I don't know." Jill rushed out past her lips as she got away from the door.

You breathed hard, looking down at the drop off from the second story. You couldn't think long as the door frame started bending; the wood splintering with each bang from the killer trying to break it down.

"That's two stories." You looked at her trying to form a plan. "...Get under the bed."

Jill looked confused, "Wha-"

"Just do as I say." You harshly whispered. "Get under the bed and don't make a sound or come out until I get you, okay? Trust me!…Go!"

You watched her go to crawl under Kirby's bed as you climbed over the railing.

Jill hid under the bed as you heard the door to Kirby's room finally break and the killer come inside. Slowly walking past Kirby's bed...

You made a gasp as you almost fell.

Ghostface darted out onto the balcony to see you descend onto the porch roof. You rushed down around the corner of the home and looked back to see Ghostface on the roof too. Staring at you through that mask before disappearing. You figured back inside to look for the others because you looked back around the corner to see they were gone.

You quickly used the opportunity to get your cellphone.

You faltered just a second...You didn't trust to call police because you did not trust Judy. You didn't care if she was out in the open when Jill's mother was killed. Partners. Besides, you did not have a good track record of using your one phone call for cops and either they don't show up, show up too late, or show up and make things worse with the killer. But you still had to call someone. Randy dead, Gale injured, maybe Dewey? Maybe just risk 911-

You heard a noise and out of reflex you accidently pushed a button on speed dial that you hissed a curse at. Too late, they picked up the phone as you frantically tried windiws.

As soon as it picked up you rushed out, "The killer's here at Kirby's! I need your help. 329 whispering lane-"

You yelled as you rounded the corner to try a window you saw was cracked open just for the killer to jump out at you. You gasped and stepped back as they tried to slash you with the knife as you dropped the phone on the roof and lost your footing. Tumbling off the roof before barely catching yourself on the gutter. Your fingers and hands burned painfully from the impact as well as trying to hang onto the thin uncomfortable metal with your body weight. The hand you injured from the knife stab a decade ago hurt the worst. Tingling and burning as you desperately tried to hang on.

You gasped looking up to see a knife and mask. The knife narrowly missed your hand as you let go and let yourself fall harshly onto the ground. Tumbling painfully before laying there a second from the impact. Robbie no longer screamed…Only the smell of flesh and hair and plastic burning as his body provided some fucked up bonfire in the front yard that blazed overtop a pile of dead leaves...And of course this house was about like Stu's with hardly any neighbors. Should've seen that a mile away.

"Shit…" You grabbed the knife from your boot and bolted, forcing your legs to move even if they didn't want to. Running back into the house before yelping at someone grabbing you. You went to stab them before she said, "No, no, no, no! Sorry, It's me."

You lowered the knife as you saw Kirby. She drew you to a corner of the kitchen to quietly talk. "Look, I tried to call 911 but the landlines dead and someone smashed the router...And my cellphone is missing. I-I don't know, I think I lost it while running I don't understand. "

Your mind raced with that.

But…Did she actually call 911? Or was she lying? Where had she been? Why didn't she go with you and Jill? Did she actually try to call or did she mess with the landline and wifi in her own house?...

You didn't have time to talk as you both heard heavy footsteps upstairs and Kirby opened the basement door and rushed you in, "Oh god. Go, go, go, go, go!" She urged before following after you and locking the door as you both quickly got down the steps as she informed you. "There's a room down here we can lock ourselves in. I heard you yelling at Jill; is she okay? Did she get away?"

You both made it to the room as you told her, "She's safe but where's the others? Trevor, Charlie?"

Kirby breathed out shakily. "I don't know."

You hissed through your teeth. "Did Trevor or anyone have a shoulder or arm wound? I shot Ghostface in the shoulder tonight before they escaped the barn."

Kirby mumbled, "I don't think so." All before locking you both in the dark room…Suddenly, you both gasped and jumped at a banging noise. Nearly jumping out of your skin as you instinctively wielded your small knife. You held your knife tightly as you both saw a bloody Charlie banging desperately on the glass door leading to the backyard.

"Kirby! Please, let me in!"

"Charlie?" Kirby breathed out, going to the door…Her eyes darted to his bloody hand and arm.

He looked where her eyes traveled and he shook his head. "N-No! I got attacked! Please, let me in!..." He kept banging his bloody hand on the glass while fearfully looking around. "Please! There is someone else out here, let me in! They burnt Robbie!...Jesus Christ, Kirby, they set him ablaze in the yard!"

You saw Kirby ponder and you told her firmly. Already having your hunch. "If you can't trust him; don't open the door…"

Kirby looked taken aback by that realization.

Charlie looked outraged on the other side of the glass. "My God! Let me in!" He begged Kirby with fear raising his voice a few octaves. "I don't know who's doing this but it's not me! Please!"

Kirby swallowed but with a tense look told him. "...Get away from the door, Charlie."

"Kirby! It's me!" Charlie whimpered with desperate pleas.

Kirby had tears in her eyes, voice strained as she ordered him. "Get away from the door, Charlie!"

Charlie's bloody hand slid down the glass as he cried out, "It's me! P-Please, Kirby! It's meee-" He whined the last part in a desperate sob.

Kirby shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as her voice cracked. And in the tiniest, crackling voice she told him. "...I'm sorry, I can't…"

You saw the struggle on Kirby's face. Trust no one…This could be a set up to make you trust her completely. You just stood back away from the door or windows with your knife ready. Back against the wall. Nothing behind the wall. Trust no one.

Charlie stepped away from the door into the porch light's view. "What the fuck?!" He yelled in outrage and disbelief.

Suddenly, Ghostface appeared behind him as Kirby screamed, "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!!"

Killer grabbing Charlie and banging his head into the glass right over the bloody handprint he left. Smearing blood on the glass before dragging him away into the dark…

You and Kirby looked taken aback, both staring helplessly…Then suddenly, whoever was doing this shut off the outside light. It was pitch black both outside and in the room now as your eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding you. Back against the wall as you swallowed hard and tried to get your mind in survival mode.

And then…The lights turned on outside to see Charlie tied to a chair…So similar to the report of Steven Oarth's body found or that friend of the girl that worked for Randy.

"Leave him alone!!" Kirby yelled, banging on the glass with teary eyes. "Damnit, leave him alone!"

You stood back and watched in disbelief. Questioning everything. How did Charlie get tied up so easily? Was Kirby faking it? Where the hell is Jill? Where's Trevor? And now, you have no phone to call 911…It was on the roof…Then again, you called multiple times in 1996 that awful night and they didn't show up till a fire broke out...Apparently one body on fire in a leaf pile isn't enough. You felt cornered on your own here. The only thing driving you was to kill this Ghostface and find who they were. Honestly, at this point, in that order. Anyone dumb enough in this situation to run at you with that mask on deserved beat or stabbed and feel guilty about it later.

You saw Charlie bound and gagged in that chair. And you just stood in the darkness of the room helplessly watching.

Kirby's phone rang. Charlie's contact as she answered. In the silence of the room, you could hear the Ghostface's voice on the line talk to Kirby.

"Tell YN heads are gonna roll tonight! Tell YN this is all because of her! Or maybe she wants to take his place? I promise to be quick."

You gritted your teeth hearing the sadistic excitement in their voice. Oh how much you wanted to yank that phone out of Kirby's hand and tell them to stop being a coward and come get you then…But you knew better. Instead, you whispered to Kirby, "Keep them talking." You knew it was most likely one of them or both of them…But it could be an outside influence, someone not necessarily in the group just like Neil was.

Kirby tearily nodded as she sucked in a breath to keep Ghostface on the line as you snuck out of the dark room.

—-------------------------------------

Kirby stood there as you left, shaking like a leaf. "Please, let him go."

"I hear you like horror movies, Kirby. But do you like them as much as him?...Forget watching Stab. You get to live it!"

Kirby's eyes widened, "No! Nononono, he's the expert, not me!" As she locked eyes with Charlie who struggled against his ties.

"Warm up question: Jason's weapon?"

Kirby fumbled at first in her fear stricken state. "Uuhhh, it's a machete." She released a small sniffle and touched her head.

"There, ya see? You do know the genre." The voice is entirely too sweet. Mocking her before snapping. "Michael Myers?!"

"Uh, butcher knife."

"Leatherface?!"

"A Chainsaw! Please!" Kirby answered faster, desperate to save her friend as a small sob escaped her.

"Just ask YN if you need some help. Freddy Krueger?!"

"Uh, uh. Razor hands!"

"Name the movie that started the Slasher craze. Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Last House on the Left, or Psycho?"

"Psycho!" Kirby growled out through her teeth before the voice aggressively cut her off as Kirby kept pacing the doors window looking at Charlie.

"NONE of the above! Peeping Tom 1960 directed by Michael Powe; first movie to ever put the audience in the killer's POV!"

"Wha-" Kirby's breath caught in her throat as she clutched her head. "What? Please! Nononono, please just ask me one more question, just one more!"

"...Alright Kirby. Then it's time for your last chance question …" The voice so sinister on the other line as Kirby softly cried to herself. "Name the remake of the groundbreaking horror movie in which the villain-"

"Uh Halloween-" Kirby shook her head while frantically going over every horror remake she knew. "Texas Chainsaw, Dawn of the Dead, Hills have.. Eyes-" She scrunched her face forcing this out while trying to scrap her brain for every last straw she could grasp. "Uh Amityville horror, Last House on the Left, F-Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, My Bloody Valentine, When a Stranger Calls, Prom Night, Black Christmas, House of Wax, The Fog, Uh…Uh Piranha!...It's one of those, right? Right?!" She demanded while staring out the window at Charlie.

…The line went dead silent. Everything stopped as the line was quiet, no attacks, no taunts.

"I was right?" Kirby gritted her teeth to go outside. "I was fucking right."

She opened the door, looked around, before rushing to her bound friend. "Hold on Charlie." She removed his tape from his mouth as he gasped and groaned at the feeling. Kirby quickly worked on untying him as she spoke. "He tried to trick me but I fucking won!" She smiled a bit as she got his hands free. Looking cautiously around herself in the dark as she tried to get the tape undone on his wrists and ankles. She helped him up and told him, "It's gonna be okay! It's-"

"Kirby." He said her name like it was a chore. "This is making a move."

Kirby gasped as she felt searing pain…A knife Charlie had hidden plunging deep into her abdomen. She choked on tears and air…And her eyes darted to the blood on his white shirt that he claimed was from an attack by the killer…It shifted as he stabbed and she saw a bloody gauze thickly wrapped up where the blood had soaked through from earlier…From us shooting him in the barn…She remembered him acting odd, noticing him wincing a bit when he sat down earlier but she thought it was nerves from stress…My God…It really was Charlie.

He killed his best friend Robbie. He stole Robbie's Dad's Crossbow. He stabbed Gale. He killed Randy Meeks…It was him.

Kirby's teary eyes looked at him desperately for an answer to the madness as she choked on her sobs of pain. He jerked it back out.

"Four years of classes and now you notice me?! All those times at the video store that you could talk Randy's ear off about horror movies like he's a fucking Messiah of horror while ignoring me?! All those years of teasing and leading me on in the friendzone and now you care?!" He demanded with angry tears in his own eyes as Kirby gripped his shoulder in pain gasping for air with wide eyes. Charlie yelled before plunging it back in her again. "Stupid bitch! It's too late!!"

Charlie gripped onto Kirby as her body went lax. Tears and choked whimpers escaping her as the pain felt like shocks coursing through her.

Charlie shhed her as he held her in a soft voice, "Shh, shhh. I know, I know. It's okay, take your time…Doesn't happen as fast in real life as it does in the movies, I know."

He smirked a bit as Kirby could do nothing but feel pain as the shock of all this slapped her in the face…

"C-C-Charlie…"

He brutally killed Olivia to look like Tatum's death. He hosted the party. He massacred Randy. Stabbed Gale. Set his so-called best friend on fire…Now? He was stabbing her to death and killing their entire friend group plus YN.

"Just like Sidney Prescott …Shh…I bet she suffered in that house, huh? Stab had her die instantly but I bet she gasped in pain too when Billy plunged his knife in her." He softly told Kirby.

He then whispered something in Kirby's ear that made her eyes widen…

Kirby choked out pained gasps before Charlie shook his head and shoved Kirby off his knife to let her lay on the ground. Taking gasping breaths like a fish out of water as a pool of blood.

Charlie looked close to crying and ran a hand through his long hair while he stalked back to the house. The night wasn't over.

—--------------------------------------

You tried to look for Jill, Trevor, your phone but couldn't find any. You put your small knife back getting a much bigger one off the counter…Kitchen knife in hand and backup knife in your boot.

You came downstairs, that front door still open as you rounded the corner. Opening the door to the bottom level Kirby was at last…But stopped yourself from calling out to her. It was too quiet…You wanted this Ghostface dead or caught. Wanted to help these kids. But everything in you screamed get in the car and get away.

You took a steadying breath and backed up the stairs a few steps. Knife in hand, eyes darting before someone grabbed you in a chokehold so tight you gagged as your knife clattered down the steps and you were jerked backwards.

Charlie's arm had you in a tight grip with his knife at your face. Blood staining his white shirt…And he seemed in pain with the arm he was holding you with. Blood on the shoulder you shot.

…You knew it.

He was pressed against a wall as he mumbled in your ear, “You know you learn a lot when you watch movies over and over. All the plots are about to ridicule you…Think you're gonna get away? Think anyone gets away?” His lips near your ear as you gritted your teeth and slammed him back against a wall.

As soon as he hit the wall he let you go and you grabbed your knife from your boot as you went to run out the door. You were getting out. You were outnumbered now. Just until help got here.

…But you got intercepted…When someone plunged a knife deep into your stomach.

You had been shot and stabbed but never in your gut like that. It knocked the wind from you, your body freezing up in pain as you fell back against the staircase wall. A choking gasp escaped your lips as you clutched your stomach. You went to slash at them, jolted by the pain you felt the second you moved your arm as it radiated down to your abdomen. Ghostface easily smacked that small knife out of your hand.

It clattered to the ground feet away and you felt all air leave your lungs.

The Ghostface came towards you, lowering their knife before taking off that damn mask you learned to resent…

Long dark hair cascaded out first followed by a fair complexion and a smirk on full pink lips…And your mouth dropped.

…Jill.

You shook your head. Shocked because she wasn't even on Randy's radar. And then your face soured as you realized this was just a decade ago all over again. Another one of Sidney's family is either jealous or wanting revenge.

“Hello, Yn…” She tilted her head with a smirk. “Surprised?”

She got inside her mask to show a small camera. “See this? This is the part where the cameras…” It beeped as she held it up smugly. “Turn off.”

“Good.” Was the only thing you heard before a man's hand jerked her by the head and slammed her forehead against the staircase railing as she screamed in pain and anger. Billy had a firm grip on her hair.

“Jill!” Charlie went to defend her before Stu grabbed him by the throat and jerked him back.

“Where you goin’?” Stu taunted. Knife jerking back ready to stab Charlie repeatedly at a moment's notice. “After party's just starting man. Pretty lame if you ask me. Mine was a rager.” Stu jeered with an insane grin.

You couldn't help the relieved smile as you clutched your bleeding abdomen…They actually came back for you. They heard your call and came back.

The sound of a knife jerking out of a pocket sounded as Billy readied his hunting knife. Jill cursed and struggled. “Time to join the other idiots.” He murmured.

Stu grinned, “Hell yeah, man! Number one, baby! We'll always be the one-”

Right when Billy went to plunge his knife into Jill's side she jerked with a scream as he barely got her…Before a gunshot ran out and you saw Stu jerk back with a shocked expression on his face.

Charlie pulled out a gun leveled it behind him shooting again as Stu got shot right in his rib area jerking back from it before Charlie went to shoot again and Stu tripped backwards over a spare chair landing through the glass sliding door with enough force to fall through it.

“Motherfucker!” Billy hissed out ready to slit Jill's throat and Charlie quickly pointed the gun at us; grabbed us by the back of the neck.

Damn…This has happened too many times before.

“Let her go…Or YN dies.” Charlie mumbled, nervously licking at his lips as he fidgeted with you in his grip. You went to struggle, trying to elbow him and Charlie shoved it to your temple as you groaned in pain.

Billy really considered…He glared, Jill still in his grasp. Until Jill stabbed him in the leg. He yelled, accidentally letting her go as he clutched his thigh.

Charlie jerked you into the kitchen as Jill hissed, seeing a bit of blood where Billy barely stabbed her side before she kicked him to follow Charlie and You. “Move, asshole!”

Billy growled in his throat as he readied his knife to stab the ever loving hell outta her before Charlie pointed his gun at him while still having a painful grip on you. “You heard her.”

Billy looked ready to take the risk, not one to back down but hearing Stu groaning in pain among the shattered pieces of glass on the porch and you yelping when Charlie shoved you with too much force into the counter. Right where your stab wound was…He relented.

Walking as Jill told him. “Give me the knife.”

“Bite me, bitch.” Billy scoffed.

Charlie threatened with the gun again. “Come on, what's a knife gonna do with a gun anyways? Try to think.”

Billy scowled before dropping the knife.

Jill smirked. “Not totally stupid. Now walk.” She ordered shoving him as Billy dragged himself forward with her knife leveled at him and her pocketing his for now.

Jill called out Charlie's name as he forced Billy to stand beside you near the kitchen counter. “Already taken care of.” Charlie told her while shutting doors and she stood near you both with the knife.

“Get that other douchebag for the line up.” She ordered.

Charlie went to Stu dragging him through glass by his ankles as Stu groaned in pain, teeth clenched. His shirt too dark and bloody to tell where he was shot before Charlie heaved him with a groan and shoved him up to stand. Then shoving him near the counter as Stu tried to swing on him and missed. Just hissing in pain as he caught himself next to Billy, and to your surprise, Billy instinctively reached out to steady him.

Charlie blew air past his lips with a smirk and showed a camera from his pocket. “Damn, he's a big boy, huh Jill?…And guess what? I got great footage of my Robbie kill. Better than Marnie or Olivia even.”

“Good. We'll cut and upload it later to make it all traceable to Trevor.” Jill replied with the knife near your face.

You panted in pain while Billy stood near you leaning on the counter. His dark eyes scanning the room for any way to get leverage. Stu gripped the counter, sweating but looking murderously at both teens holding you all hostage right now.

If Charlie didn't have that gun? This would've been over with both of them dead. If YOU had your goddamn gun this could've been over before Billy and Stu even got here!

You stared at Jill, seething once the shock wore off realizing the last few days you and Randy were so nice to her; you were talking to the killer all along. Her and Charlie didn't seem to recognize Billy and Stu or if they did they weren't saying.

“Speaking of which-” Charlie opened the doors to the closet and dragged out Trevor who he threw on the ground bound and gagged with tape.

“Remind you of anything?” Charlie retorted towards you.

Yeah, did it ever. Only this time Billy and Stu were just as much victims as you were.

Charlie ripped the tape off as Trevor begged, “Jill pleas-”

“Shut up!” She cut him off with a yell as she stripped herself of the Ghostface robe.

Charlie got closer towards you, blood on him. “See everything I learned I learned from you.”

Stu shoved him away. “Get the fuck away from her, man.” He growled out in pain but this was a man that took so many stabbings when younger and still attacked you and flipped you both over a couch.

Charlie scoffed but he knew who had the power right now as he smirked. But…He looked at Stu longer. Almost trying to connect the dots.

Jill brought Charlie back as she mumbled, “Who are these guys anyways? Don't tell me they're your side pieces or something.” Jill jeered with a malicious smirk as you all said nothing. “You think my cousin Sidney had a shitty boyfriend, YN!? Here's one that fucks you, dumps you…And doesn't even make you famous.” She gave a wry smirk before kicking Trevor in his shoulder as he cried out.

Billy's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at hearing Jill was his old girlfriend's cousin. You could tell he wanted to kill her that much more.

Trevor cried out, “The fuck, Jill!? I loved you!”

Jill rolled her eyes, “Shut the fuck UP already!” Before kicking him multiple times as he yelled out in pain each blow.

Stu mumbled to Billy and you, “Mean ass girl, isn't she?” Sarcastically while he huffed and held his side in pain.

Billy asked, "How you holding up?"

"By my last bit of skin, man...Fuck. He got me in the side and lower belly." Stu huffed out in a wince.

"Fuck." Billy scoffed. "...You know what to do still?

Stu smirked, "Yeah..."

Charlie gave the gun to Jill, “I'm sure the cops would want you to have this, Jill. For your protection.”

The second that gun wasn't aimed, Billy and Stu tried to charge Charlie for it. Their street smarts and instincts ready to attack in pain or not but before they could Jill stabbed you in the gut again and the most strangled cry escaped you. It hurt your throat to scream with such a primal pain and it instantly made Billy and Stu falter just enough for Charlie to aim the gun at them.

You cried, tears in your eyes at that god awful pain as you clutched your lower gut.

Jill glared, “Do that shit again and I'll stab her in the throat.” She tilted her head. “Who are you anyways? Shouldn't you both be dead?”

Billy and Stu had no choice but to back off. And when Jill said that…Charlie's entire demeanor changed.

“Oh my God…No way…I-I thought you looked familiar but-” Charlie drew out like some star struck fan.

Jill's eyes widened too before she laughed loudly. “Shut the fuck up!...No way, Gale was right? Gale Weather's was actually right about you, YN!?”

You sniffed back tears, gritting your teeth in contempt but not answering her.

Charlie pointed the gun to each of them. “Bill Loomis…And Stu Macher. It's such a privilege to meet you two in the flesh!”

Billy sneered at him, “Great, another dick rider.” He grumbled under his breath.

Jill chuckled, “I can't believe it.” As even Trevor looked flabbergasted from the floor. “Wow, YN…Little Miss American Sweetheart is actually a treacherous lying snake. I mean, hiding two of the famous Woodsboro killers under everyone's nose and ruining Gale Weather's career over it?...Under different circumstances I'd applaud you.”

Charlie looked momentarily freaked out. “Jill…Jill, what are we gonna do I mean…This changes our plans! I-”

Jill took his gun. “Shhhh.” She softly told him in a way to calm him down. “It'll still work, Baby. Remember? I'm YN and you're Randy…Now, Trevor doesn't have to be Billy. We can work with this. I mean, who is going to question who the killers were with Billy and Stu here?”

Charlie's breath hitched as he forced a smile. “And this time, Randy gets the girl.”

She kissed him. Looking at you with the gun pointed the entire time.

Stu and Billy sneered. And the idea hit you. Charlie…Charlie you shot Charlie in the barn. He wants to be the ‘new Randy’...He was jealous and killed Randy because Randy got Kirby's attention, Randy was the movie expert, Randy was a cool nerd in school unlike Charlie.

You shook your head in disgust. “You'll never be Randy…Do you hear me? He was better than you in every fucking way!” You forced out through tears and clenched teeth. They stopped kissing as you practically snarled at Jill. “And you will never be me! You're nothing but a jealous attention seeking litt-”

You cried out as she pistol whipped you upside the face hard enough to jerk your head and taste blood in your mouth. Billy and Stu had to stop themselves from lunging at her, remembering the gun.

Jill looked at you with a glare as you coughed and wiped blood off your lip. Swearing she just knocked out a tooth.

“Don't you get it? You're old news.” She gave plainly.

You stood back up, blood on the corner of your lip as you tiredly clutched your stomach.

Trevor cried out from on the floor, “Jill, baby! Please, this isn't you!”

Jill gave him a bored look. Leveling the gun at him and holding the knife towards you. You swore she was gonna shoot him but instead…She looked at Charlie.

“Charlie…Ya know, now with us being able to pin this on thee Billy Loomis and Stu Macher…Trevor's role can change. We don't need another Billy or Stu…But we need a James. I mean, every final girl needs some fucked up shit to happen to her like her boyfriend being mutilated. Media will eat that up.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

Charlie even faltered a moment.

Jill glared at him. “Do not chicken out on me now, Charlie!”

Charlie just shook his head swallowing. “Not chickening out…Just gotta make sure we film this. Are we good on time?” He started putting the Ghostface outfit back on.

Jill smiled, “Oh yeah, we're perfect.”

Trevor looked terrified and so did you as Charlie quickly threw Jill's outfit on, getting the mask off the counter and turned the inner camera on. He dropped down to Trevor and slid the knife threatenly over his neck.

“D-Don't!” You begged on deaf ears as Trevor gave a blood curdling scream as Charlie started doing what Billy and Stu did to your boyfriend back in 1996 in that field. Billy and Stu seemed both unfazed or annoyed at best while you closed your eyes and covered your ears screaming over Trevor, “STOP IT!!”

The sounds of him screaming in pain, flesh being ripped as Charlie pulled while sawing, the smell of blood. You felt ready to scream yourself as Billy to your shock drew you near with a hand on your shoulder protectively so you didn't do something stupid like lash out. Him and Stu watched the whole time. While this was the one traumatic thing that happened to you indirectly that you thankfully didn't see even if James was a shitty boyfriend. You closed your eyes and Billy had a death grip on you. You felt sick whether from bloodlose or this was debatable.

You shakily looked when the screams died down and wished you hadn't. Seeing Trevor bloody and half his face skinned off as he seemed to tremble and writhe as his body went into shock from the pain. You wanted to pass out or throw up and knowing Billy and Stu gleefully did this that night while calling you and…And hearing James sobbing and begging you to help him.

Billy's grip tightened on your shoulder as if he knew. His eyes narrowed. Stu tried inching towards a door and Jill shot the gun near the door as everyone flinched or ducked.

She said nothing, not wanting her voice on camera. As Charlie peeled his face the rest of the way off then stabbed him from sternum to groin as he choked and jerked and spasmed in pain on the floor.

And Jill just numbly watched…Watched a boy that loved her get this done to him.

Charlie took off the mask and shut off the camera with a bewildered smirk. “Holy shit…That was awesome.” He held up Trevor's face. “Hey, YN; wanna reenact TCM 2?” And tried to threatenly put Trevor's face on yours as you instinctively hid in Billy's chest. Trying to face away with an uncharacteristic whimper at what you were just forced to see. Like you were a scared teen girl all over again.

“I will staple that face to yours if you even try it! It'll be one hell of an improvement!” Stu jeered and weakly shoved him back as Billy put an arm over you.

However, Billy gripped you and forced you to turn around. You knew it was his way of silently telling you to be strong and you forced yourself to not look at Trevor or the face in Charlie's hand and instead glared at Jill. Feeling weak with blood loss and yet you had so much hate for her.

Jill smiled, “Now THAT is going to get views.” She looked at you. “See with you the world just heard about what happened but with us…They're gonna see it. It's gonna be a worldwide sensation. I mean, people gotta see this shit!” Jill chuckled. “It's not like anyone reads anymore.”

Charlie took off the glove and showed you guys a video of…Of Randy being killed. Of him on the ground backpedaling with an arrow in him. All alone in the dark.

“No please! Don't-” He got cut off choking in pain as he was stabbed repeatedly. “D-Don't hurt them…Don't hurt my kids and wife…D-D-Don't hurt YN…Please-” He pleaded with blood near his mouth before screaming in pain again as Charlie stabbed him repeatedly and the video cut off…To a close up of him hanging…Still twitching barely alive as he hung there…Guts out.

Tears welled in your eyes as your breathing got shallow. You were trembling with so much rage and mind shattering devastation. Seeing your best friend in his final moments tonight in pain begging for his life…For yours even after your argument. Even after everything he didn't hate you.

“...I'm gonna kill you…You goddamn pieces of shit…” You forced out shakily through your teeth as tears rolled down your cheeks. “I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!!” Billy and Stu had to jerk you back, Billy the least injured having you in almost a headlock before you got shot.

Jill laughed, “God, you are so dramatic! So that goody two shoes love and peace for all; is that some PR move or-” She mocked as Billy jerked you and you were trying to fight him even in ungodly pain to get to her or Charlie.

“Stop! Now!” Billy ordered in your ear. “...We'll get them…” He reassured while still holding you back as you stopped struggling and glared daggers at them both tears rolling down your face.

Charlie informed you. “Stole Robbie's Dad's crossbow. I mean that guy on Walking Dead just gave me major ideas and Robbie also…Lured Randy back to the party by recording you and Kirby. Poor kid had no idea he was helping me get Randy tonight. Jill took care of things at her house and Kirby's phone.”

You could only glare at him.

Jill told you. “We're gonna have fame you never even dreamed of.”

Charlie looked at Jill in adoration. “You were the perfect victim, Jill.”

Jill laughed like a teen girl getting away with sneaking out past curfew while Trevor bled out on the floor. “I was SO believable today, wasn't I? I mean, I told so many lies that I actually started to believe them…I really think that I was born for this.”

Stu huffed, looking tired and woozy himself. “Congratulations.” He sarcastically monotoned.

You got away from Billy as he let you go and you demanded weakly, “How could you do this?...Sidney-”

“Shut up!” Jill demanded, her smiling dropping. “Do you even know what it was like in this family being related to Sidney Prescott?! Sidney this and Sidney that and Sidney, Sidney, Sidney! She was always just SO FUCKING SPECIAL!” She screeched. “And then you…” She pointed the knife at you. “I hated you just as much. What? You survive bad luck and get all this attention? Big house somewhere, never have to work, all these interviews and book deals because your life was hard?...You had your 15 minutes of fame NOW I WANT MINE!” She yelled.

Billy groaned as Stu tiredly mumbled to him. “Told you. Fame. You owe me 50 bucks.”

You ignored them and stared at her, shaking your head mumbling. “You'll slip. They always do.”

Jill gave a wry smirk, looking back at Billy and Stu who technically did get away with it before saying, “Come on Charlie, let's get this over with.”

Stu was losing a lot of blood and so were you as you both gripped the counters and Billy wasn't able to run. You all were pretty much sitting ducks right now.

Charlie handed Jill the knife. He started breathing puffs of air out of his mouth, bouncing on his feet as Jill told him loudly, “You've gotta be strong…And hold still! Okay?”

He nervously breathed, “Old School, like Billy and Stu.”

Billy made a face and Stu despite his condition let out a mocking laugh. Billy added over Stu's laughter, “That's right, real deep too. Don't be pussies now in front of your idols-”

Charlie closed his eyes saying “Come on, get it up-” Before slapping himself across the face multiple times.

Stu laughed silently hanging his head and leaning on the counter for support.

You stood there thinking you felt like you were in a Twilight Zone right now or a damn insane asylum from back in the day while Stu and Billy had sadistic grins on their faces eager to see some ‘fan’ that gave them injuries get stabbed.

Charlie smacked his shoulder shakily yelling at Jill, “Shoulder me, shoulder me! Come on! GET IT UP-”

You gasped with a slight satisfaction yourself when Jill plunged the knife right into his chest. Billy went from watching with interest to smirking with a dark look in his eye and Stu through his sweat and pain grinned ear to ear.

Charlie choked a gasp, holding his bleeding chest. “The heart?!- T-That's not how we rehearsed it!”

You finally spoke with an edge to your voice. “You said it. Billy and Stu…If Trevor became James. And Robbie was supposed to be Stu…”

Jill smirked to herself seeing it dawn on Charlie. She told him, “I know it's going against the script…But this is a franchise. Not a remake. And what the media loves is a sole survivor.” She whispered cruelly. “Robbie was your partner. Both of you jealous little outcasts but you…You were the idea man.”

She plunged the knife in again as Charlie gasped harshly falling to his knees. Hyperventilating as he bled. Shock written all over his face before collapsing in a pathetic heap on the ground.

You didn't care if it made you a monster too…There was some satisfaction. Especially when you remembered what he showed you on that phone. “You'll never be Randy, Charlie.” Was the last thing you said as Stu almost gave a little hollar of glee and Billy chuckled under his breath watching Charlie be betrayed and now only seconds from dying.

You glanced at Jill holding your stomach and like Stu things were getting blurry for you. “So…You killed all your friends…Now what?” You asked the bigger picture of what happens when all this is said and done.

Jill glared at you. “My Friends?”

She walked up to you and Billy and Stu tensed up a bit. It was 3 against 1. 2 grown men, a grown woman and one teen girl…Problem was 1 grown man looked ready to pass out, the grown woman wasn't far behind him, the other grown man had a fucked up leg now that couldn't move as fast and the little teen bitch from hell still had the gun.

“What world are you living in? I don't need friends, I need fans ….DON'T YOU GET IT!?” She snapped at you. “This has never been about killing you…This is about becoming you. I mean for fucksake all my friends and boyfriend had to die.”

“And your mother?” You asked, trying to be brave but staring crazy in the face again after so long…Worked on your mind.

“Collateral damage.” She mused with nothing in her dark eyes…Just nothing. “That's sick right? Well, sick is the new sane.” She whispered with a small smile eyeing you.

Even Billy and Stu didn't kill their own parents.

“You had your 15 minutes now I WANT MINE!” She yelled in your face. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? Go to college, grad school, work? Look around. We're all in the public eye now, we're all on the internet…How do you think people become famous anymore!? You don't have to achieve ANYTHING!” She gestured to you. “You just gotta have fucked up shit happen to you.”

You stared at her in shock at her logic of wanting to be you. To have your life. To want to be the victim, to want to have people whisper about you or treat you horribly or treat you like glass. To have a target on your back forever.

All of this…ALL of this pain…Because some brat wanted attention and to get by easy in life?

Billy and Stu looked just as bewildered as you. Stu finally gave a humorously dry chuckle while trying to breathe, still holding his wounds. “I mean…Okay idea but-”

She instantly shot him.

You froze as Stu got shot somewhere in the abdomen and went flying back. Billy went to lunge at Jill and got shot as well. He growled in pain and hit the counter. Wincing and slipping on his bloody palms trying to keep himself up. Stu laid limply and you tried not to hyperventilate at how messed up this was becoming because of one damn girl. Stu groaned on the ground coughing as he weakly held himself.

Jill laughed, “I WAS going to kill you all and blame Charlie and Trevor or Charlie and Robbie but now?...No…I think it doesn't matter if these two idiots live. Great! Because no one will question it. NO ONE. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher survived? They clearly did this and almost killed a poor innocent girl after slaughtering her friends.”

You shook your head with fearful tears in your eyes. Billy glared daggers at her sneering, “You dumb little fuck…You think I'm going down after 15 years?!” He grabbed a kitchen knife and took the risk of throwing it.

It went right into the arm that held the gun as she screamed and he instantly with his adrenaline pumping tried to grab it…You went for it too this time to help him instead of the other few times.

You gasped as a sharp painful cry escaped him…Jill stabbed him in the abdomen and jerked sideways.

“Billy!-” You went to attack her too, hoping for an opening. ANYTHING! You were gonna die and-

She jerked the knife out of her arm with an almost enraged scream and stabbed you when you least expected it. She made it look like you had an opening to grab that gun and maybe you did? But her determination was just that much stronger.

She plunged the knife deep into you as you saw Billy had tried to get up multiple times and kept slipping while trying to hold his own wound close and slumped down gasping for air…Stu wasn't moving from what you could see…And you just got stabbed again. Deep. Blood spurted over your hand. This felt higher than before.

“Sorry, there's only room for one final girl and let's face it…Your time's up.” She looked so pleased with herself. So giddy as you collapsed onto your stomach.

You laid there trembling, barely breathing with your eyes wide open in fear. You heard footsteps seeing Jill walking away.

Billy looked just as bad but your eyes locked with each other on the kitchen floor. “B-B-Bill-” You couldn't even get his name out.

He shhed you. Cringing and as quietly as he could gritted his teeth to drag himself over to you as Jill started going ahead and hurting herself…Absolutely trying to kill herself by stabbing you hitting her head on a glass picture frame while yelling in pain. Trying to make it all look like she was brutally attacked.

Billy shhed you again when tears started falling from your eyes…After so long of being numb…You didn't wanna die.

“I'm…I'm scared…Billy-” You just admitted it. Trembling like a scared child while bleeding out on the ground. Things were getting harder to focus on as he laid next to you on his back to keep his guts from pressing against the gash.

You never thought you'd ever give him the satisfaction. Not at that shed, not in your house, not in the closet, Stu's house, Windsor, the motel- Never thought you'd give him the satisfaction of admitting you were scared of dying but you were.

Your hand trembled uncontrollably and he shhed you again. Weakly telling you, “Hey…Shh…It's alright…Don't cry, she'll hear you. If she stabs us in the head or throat or heart we're done, kid.”

You shook your head trying not to sob as your head felt like you were gonna faint.

“You're tough. Okay?...You can do this…You've always been a tough bitch to beat…I should know…Don't let that brat win. Don't let me or Stu win either…” He told you with heavy tired eyes. His head lolling to the side to gaze at you. Both of you held eye contact before he reached out and so did you.

“Billy…I-...I never meant…I always wanted-” You knew what you wanted to say but…Getting it out.

He stopped you with another soft shh and held your hand. He held it tight. His own fear of dying present but his urge to put on a brave face for his ego…For you too; was stronger. It's like he knew what you meant and he released a soft breath of air as if a giant weight was off his shoulders.

“Mine…” He mumbled with a small tired smile. “You've always been mine…” And then his eyes just…Closed.

Mark entered your mind and you couldn't control the small whimper as you trembled Jill crashing into things in the background.

“...Billy?” You whispered. Trying to move but couldn't as you held his hand so tight it hurt. “Billy, wake up. Please…” You whimpered as you were so tired…So so tired.

The last thing you saw was black…And glass shattering as Jill threw herself on the coffee table…And then sirens outside.

#finally #scream #stu macher #billy loomis #my writing #scream fanfiction #yn fanfic #she her yn #my stories #fours a franchise #scream 4

83 notes · View notes