#so fucking stupid about his friends/family

[fleurrreads]

pretty little rich girl

pairings: benny cross x fem!reader

warnings: some unwanted comments, bit of angst, happy ending(?)

author's note: based on this request! honestly don't know how i feel about this one, i might write more for them in the future.

Benny has seen many girls in his lifetime, but none of them have downright turned his world upside down. Until he met you. It was supposed to be just another night at the bar, until you walked in. All pretty in a little dress, pearls around your neck. You look expensive. Benny's eyes follow you until you sit down, probably with a friend. He steps closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You sit down with a huff, "Where did ya bring me, Kathy? Ya hang out 'round here?" You look around wildly at the bikers crowding the little bar. Kathy laughs. "Don't worry, darlin'. They won't do anythin to make you uncomfortable or somethin'. They're good people." Kathy finishes, looking over your shoulder, spotting Benny standing a few metres away. She smirks, "Okay listen, I'm gonna go get us some drinks, you want a pop? I'll get ya a pop." Kathy rambles, before walking off to the bar, leaving you alone. You look around warily, the bikers closest to you looking at each other, then at you, and then laughing among themselves. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. 'Hurry up Kathy' you thought to yourself, and a split second later someone sits down in Kathy's chair. But it's not Kathy.

You look up, seeing the prettiest blue eyes and you nearly gulp. Holy shit you think as you let your eyes travel the stranger up and down. He's gorgeous. The stranger looks in a daze, as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles on full display. Before you say anything, he speaks and you think you could melt right there.

"I'm Benny." he says, his face nearly in a pout. You nearly laugh, the situation being so unorthodox. "I'm y/n. And you're sittin' on my friend's seat." you say, making him throw his hands up in feigned innocence. "Really? I didn't know. My bad, darlin'." He says in a husky voice, his eyes never leaving you.

You smile, "Yeah, but listen I gotta get home, so it was nice meetin' ya, but i gotta get goin'." You stand up, not bothering to look for Kathy, you'd call her later. Unbeknownst to you Benny gets up and follows you outside. As you make your way to the door you hear whistles and calls, making your stomach turn. One comment made you stop in your tracks. "Look at this pretty little rich girl, playin' where she doesn't belong." one of the bikers said, and you frowned.

Yes, you were from a wealthy family, but that doesn't make you just a rich girl. You have ambitions, you have dreams. You can be something other than a rich girl too.

You shake your head, pushing past people as fast as you can, trying to calm the tears that are threatening to spill. As soon as you get outside you take a cigarette from your bag, and sigh. "For fuck sakes. Where's my damn lighter." you grumble, emotions on high. Benny walks up to you, lighter in hand. Without saying anything he brings the light to your face, to your cigarette. "Thanks" you mumble, taking a drag.

You just want to go home. The past hour you've been here has probably taken three years off your lifespan. You sigh, kicking around a rock with your polished shoes. You would be able to enjoy this life, the freedom that comes along with it, if it weren't for people and their stupid comments. You'd finally find a place where you belong. Because it certainly wasn't with the rich kids. They always thought you were weird for having dreams like moving to a farm and building a life for yourself. Or moving to California to surf and working at a surf shop. That's why that guy in the bar's comment frustrated you. If you didn't belong at home, and you didn't belong here, then where do you belong? Benny clears his throat, you jump, forgetting that was there.

"Y'know, they didn't mean it like that. What they said back there. They 'just never seen a girl like you in our bar." he says, as if reading your mind. You scoff, taking another drag from your cigarette. "Yeah whatever, I don't really care. Probably won't see 'em again anyway. But you have a good evenin', Benny. It was delightful meetin' ya." You stomp out your cigarette, walking to the bus stop.

Benny offers you a ride home, because of course the busses don't run at 2am anymore. So you give him your address. As Benny takes a turn into your street you think of how vastly you differ from him. Him in his dirty leather jacket, his hair unwashed for probably a while, and his grease stained shirt underneath with his leather boots. To you, a girl polished by her parents to embody elegance, even though you were far from it. A white dress, pearls probably worth more than his bike, shoes polished and your hair neatly in a bow. A doll. A doll standing on a dangerous cliff, ready to jump down to whatever world Benny was involved in.

Benny pulls up to your house, and he takes a moment to study your house. A double story house, white picket fence, gorgeous porch running around the house. You were rich. He hears you sigh as you get off the bike, and he blurts out a question. "You wanna go to a meetin' with me tomorrow?" He looks at you, pretty dress now stained from sitting so close to him on the bike. He quite likes it. Him tainting your pretty little life. He can sense that you might like it too. You smile, "Yeah, why not. I don't have anythin' goin' on anyway." you nod, making your way to the white picket fence surrounding your house. You look back at him, his eyes sparkling with something you've never seen before.

"Well goodnight, Benny." you wave, making your way to your door.

"Goodnight, princess." Benny hums, leaning against his bike. Yeah he likes you, a lot. He's not going to let you slip out of his fingers. He's already obsessed with you. His princess.

Six weeks later, you married him.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

[sp-by-april]

Dying To Know [Ch. 01]

Okay, so this is a slasher/yandere fic. It's also like, the first chapter and mostly laying the groundwork for everything to come.

It's Eric, Kenny, Kyle, Stan x F!Reader. No Smut this chapter, but I promise we will get there. 😭

Summary: There's a slasher on the loose and students at South Park High are being taken out one by one. You're at the center of it all, and it doesn't help that each of your four best friends is acting weird.

[Read on Ao3] [South Park Master Lists]

Heidi Turner was scared. She’d been stalking – No, investigating The New Girl again. Heidi followed her home as she walked with Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Eric. They were completely stupid about that chick, constantly following her around like fresh hatchlings that imprinted on the wrong creature. It made Heidi sick.

They walked her home, argued about walking her home – who said what, who touched her where or too much – and then they split up. Eric headed to his place, Kyle and Stan to the Broflovski’s and Kenny to… wherever the fuck of several places Kenny liked roam to instead of going home.

She considered approaching Kyle first, but she went to Eric instead.

“The New Girl isn’t what you think,” Heidi pleaded with him, but Eric waved her off.

He called her a jealous psycho and it made Heidi’s blood boil. She stalked home and fumed the whole way. As she stepped onto her front porch, Heidi heard a familiar chime from her purse. It was a text message. She pulled out her cell, (a trendy, freshly purchased LG Chocolate) and opened the text.

It said only two words: Come back.

She rolled her eyes. It was 2006 and cell service was supposedly improving but the shit was still consistently spotty in Park County. Of course she didn’t get the text until she was already home, that was just her luck.

Heidi turned around and headed back to Eric’s.

🕐 🕕 🕚

High school is tough for everyone, but I had an especially rough junior year. My father died, and my mother moved us back to her hometown. I think it was a comfort thing for her. It was a bumfuck place in some flyover state that I’d only ever been a few times to visit extended family members that I never liked or cared about.

South Park, Colorado. There were two temperatures, cold and colder. Almost everything was covered in a layer of melting ice that somehow never finished thawing. Snow crunched under my heels like skeletons of the friends I left behind.

Once we moved, my mother completely checked out. I was pretty much left to fend for myself. The whole thing was overwhelming. Luckily, I ended up with a group of new friends.

Eric Cartman was…. Weird. I thought the guy hated me most of the time. He would always make subtle digs about my family, something I said, or an item of clothing I was wearing. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to realize that he was pretty much negging me. I couldn’t escape the guy, either. He was in most of my classes and for whatever reason if there was a group project, we always got paired up. At first, I only put up with him because I liked his other friends so much.

Stan Marsh was hot in an obvious way. Great body. Started a band called Crimson Dawn and they played gigs regularly. He had this kind of tortured artist vibe that I really dug. He reeked of inner turmoil, you know what I mean? I was always a sucker for that kind of thing.

I got close to Stan first, and fast. He would walk me to class. Eat lunch with me. Invite me to shows. It was actually at one of his bands shows that I started getting close to Kenny.

Kenny McCormick was an interesting guy. Obviously, I saw him around school and knew him through Stan, but he was surprisingly social. He got along well with everyone. One night we got drunk and just talked about how much our parents sucked. He was so easy to talk to and he’s a really funny guy. I like him a lot. As I got to know him more, I realized that one of the things that made Kenny special was that he had secrets. I tried not to pry too much

As a matter of fact, all the guys were pretty easy to get to know.

Except for Kyle.

Kyle Broflovski was kind of an enigma at first. A basketball player at the top of his classes. He didn’t start fights, but he’d finish them. He had a bold streak that I really admired. I don’t know what his deal was, but it seemed like he had kind of a wall built up. He was hard for me to get to know at first. I always felt awkward around him.

Which sucked, because I was crushing really hard.

I always thought Eric would be the one keeping me out of the friend group, but from what I heard, the resistance came from Kyle. It was a huge blow to my ego.

I’m not trying to brag when I tell you this, but I’m a pretty girl and I’ve never really had trouble when it comes to guys. Attention from men is so easy to come by, it’s practically worthless… You know what I mean?

But Kyle was withholding. It just made me crush harder.

Once I was informally part of the friend group, I didn’t fit in like a missing puzzle piece or whatever poetic metaphor that would’ve completed the fantasy… It was more like we were all a bunch of feral dogs that latched onto each other for safety while we navigated the perils of young adulthood.

When senior year started, things were pretty normal. It was our first day of our last year and I was at the bus stop with the guys. Stan was smoking a cigarette and Kenny was unsuccessfully trying to get him to share. Eric was ranting about something some celebrity said, while Kyle and I were doing our best to ignore him. I was wearing an unseasonably short skirt with a comically large sweater. The leaves were crunching under my maryjanes while I did a dance familiar to any girl who once pretended she wasn’t freezing her ass off for the sake of being cute.

Then I heard something. Like screaming. It was coming towards us.

Kyle exchanged a look with me, and Kenny’s head shot up. Stan glanced around. Eric finally got the memo but by then we all saw him.

Butters was running right for us, yelling something indecipherable. 

By the time he reached us, he was panting so much that we still couldn’t understand him.

“Hyhe!,” Butters panted as he bent over and rested his palms on his knees, “Hyhee’s gone,”

Eric frowned at him, “Try it again, but this time say it in English,”

“She’s dead” Butters continued and we all understood that.

Kyle took a step towards him, “Who’s dead?

Butters looked up, his eyes darting between Kyle and Eric, “...Heidi Turner,”

It was like the oxygen had been sucked right out of the atmosphere. I only knew Heidi because we were both on the A-Squad in Cheer, but I guess her ties to my friends ran a lot deeper. 

I’d been in town six months, but I still had a lot to learn about everyone. 

The bus ride to school was illuminating. I sat in between Stan and Kenny. Eric and Kyle sat in front of us. Neither of them said a word. Every student around us was buzzing, discussing Heidi’s death and theorizing about the hows and whys.

“It’s a twisted mess,” Stan said quietly as his eyes rolled to the sky, “She bounced back and forth between them for like two years,”

Kenny put his arm around my shoulder and his mouth hovered over my ear, “Until you showed up,” 

“Weird coincidence,” I said, tugging at the hem of my sweater.

“Maybe,” Stan lifted Kenny’s arm off of me and he leaned back against the seat, “Maybe not,”

My eyes narrowed, “What the hell does that mean?”

Stan sighed and shook his head.

Kenny’s head tilted as he looked at me, “You’ve gotta kn–”

“Shut up,” Stan groaned.

Kenny frowned and did just that.

He crossed his arms and we were as silent for the rest of the ride as Eric and Kyle were.

I know it was selfish, but I was frustrated. I had only just started making headway with Kyle and now his ex-girlfriend had to go and die. It’s kind of the worst time in the History of Everything to ask a guy out.

When we all piled out of the bus Principal Victoria was there. She pulled aside Eric, Kyle…. And me.

We sat in her office with Sergeant Yates. It was the most awkward I ever felt in my life. To make things worse, I couldn’t figure out why I was there. I was sure there had to be some mistake.

There wasn’t.

Cartman crossed his arms, “Look – Heidi died and we all knew her. We don’t need a counseling session,”

Kyle slumped back in his chair and agreed with Eric for once, “He’s right,”

Yates looked between the three of us, “No talking,”

Kyle’s face twisted up and I could tell he was resisting the urge to push back. Honestly, so was I.

The door opened and Detective Murphy’s head popped into the room, “Okay, we’ve got the cheerleaders,”

Yates pointed to me, “Take this one,”

“Is she the one–”

“Yeah,” Yates gestured for me to stand and I obeyed.

Murphy had a distinct grimace on his face as I walked towards him. His facial expression combined with the way they talked about me didn’t inspire confidence.

Waiting in the hall were my other squad members, Nichole Daniels, Bebe Stevens and our captain, Wendy Testaburger. We followed the Detective to our counselor’s office. We stood around for like a half hour and he ushered us outside and into a police van. 

They drove us down to the station and finally brought us into an interrogation room.

I sat next to Bebe and tried to ignore her as she pulled a nail file out of her purse and went to work. Nichole looked at me nervously, “Do they think we’re suspects?” “I doubt it,” Wendy said emphatically, “We still have all our belongings”

Wendy was right. They would’ve taken our backpacks and purses, but they didn’t. So what did that mean?

We waited for what felt like hours until Yates could come back to the station and talk to us. He wasn’t alone – He’d brought our parents.

He looked between us nervously, “I’m gonna cut to the chase. Heidi Turner was murdered,”

Gasps, groans and a heavy air of fear fell over the room like a shroud.

“What’s this got to do with our daughters?” Mrs. Daniels said, “Surely you don’t think they’re capable–“

“We think they could be the next victims,” He continued.

Dead silence.

“We can’t divulge too much information on a current case but we found trinkets belonging to each of you, scribblings that appeared to be satanic – and an obsession with one of you in particular,”

“Who?” Mr. Testaburger asked.

Yates pointed directly at me. 

My mother was aghast. He gave no more details. He just told our parents to lock us down, and to get out of town if we had the means. ‘Think of it like a short vacation,’ I think were the words he used. Then he sent us home. 

None of us went back to school that day.

It didn’t matter, because about an hour later the students at South Park High were informed that the day had been cut in half and they were going home. About an hour after that, word started to spread that there would be a county-wide mandatory curfew for anyone under 18.

It was about another hour after that that I heard something tapping at my window.

I had been staring at my bedroom ceiling listening to the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, just rotting in bed. I hopped up and struggled to open the misshapen window. Once I had it up I saw the guys standing below me. Stan waved, Kenny grinned and dropped a handful of pebbles to the ground, Eric gave me a dismissive nod and Kyle had his back to the house.

I hung half way out the window so I could talk to them without my mother hearing, “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t hear?” Stan blinked as he looked up at me, “They canceled school,”

“The real question is what’re you still doing up there?” Kenny asked.

“You didn’t hear?” I playfully mocked Stan’s previous tone, “I’m on lock down,”

Kyle turned around and looked up at me. I think my heart skipped a beat as he stepped towards my window. I had an instant fantasy in my head of him climbing up the trellis.

“Do they think you’re in danger?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I glanced away from him as I sheepishly admitted the truth, “Apparently they found some creepy shrine to me or something,”

The guys all exchanged a series of looks. I thought I caught most of it, but honestly a lot of their short-hand still went over my head. 

Kyle frowned at Kenny. Kenny shook his head and then looked up at me, “When’s your mom leaving?”

“Twenty minutes give or take,” I shrugged, “Assuming she doesn’t catch you guys out here,”

Stan nodded. Kenny saluted. Kyle turned back around and Eric followed suit. I’d never seen those two so in sync. 

What a weird fuckin’ day.

It was about to get a lot weirder.

[cuckaracha]

Ohhh please give Ace opinions. I love seeing people yap about Ace

With pleasure ^_^!

V spoilers talk! V

Most of my opinions were revealed to be sort of true on the last episode so it wouldn't surprise me if this is one-to-one what everyone believes now: Ace to me seems like an extremely love starved person, like, its so painfully obvious that he's faced some sort of neglect in his life. So much so to the point that he keeps himself guarded all the time to avoid falling for the trap of liking someone and then they immediately turn on him. Hence what he said to Levi during the trial. Ace is feels too much. He's well aware of his surroundings and how shitty he acts, but if he doesn't feel anger or fear, the loneliness kicks in. It's a toxic cycle of self-hatred, low self-esteem and cynicism. Though I do believe that it's mostly the situation making his bad habits shine more brightly, because during the prologue/chapter1, Ace is kind of just a bratty jock. He cracks jokes, he hangs out with everyone and he seems to not be plagued as much by his fear unless you breach the topic.

Hence why I personally think that there's no other person like Levi to be used as foil for him. Regardless of how you think on their relationship, be it romantic or platonic or whatever, it's nothing new that their attitudes clash so much, it comes back around to them covering each other's weakness very well. A little guy that feels to much and is scared of giving out of fear of being hurt, and a big guy that feels too little that gives to others out of necessity. So when taken to their natural extreme, they would very obviously have problems, specially under the circumstances that they're both in. Ace, tragically believing the one thing he knew he shouldn't have, and Levi hopelessly attempting to fix what he inadvertently broke. It's peak toxic yaoi imo.

(which also, at least in my opinion, makes Levi the one true Ace lover. None of the other boys have as much of their nuance intrinsically mangle with Ace's as him. But again, that's just me. Ship this little freak with however boy you want. Fuck it. Make him a slut even.)

The other thing that has popped in my mind a lot is his family situation. I know with my take of his family, he's like a middle child or whatever, but that was just me wanting to be contrarian to the obvious, more solid interpretation of Ace being the eldest of the 9 brothers. Because when you think about, him being forced into jockeying by his family to maintain them economically makes sense. He hates it, but if he doesn't do it, he'll be the loser everyone knows him to be. He'd be disposed of by his family, believing that they only care about him for his talent and the money that comes from it. And if he doesn't do it, the job might fall to one of his younger siblings. Something he can't morally do. Because as much of a stupid little shithead as he is, he's not an idiot. Ace knows what's right and what's wrong. He understands the cruelty of the world to an extent. And as such. He's forced into being the breadmaker for his big ass family until the day he either retires or dies.

All this to say. I love Ace Markey. He's such a silly little goofball full of depression and anxiety that is one fart away from going insane. Like I haven't even touched on my thoughts on Taylor (which I also got right on my earlier theory) and how that affects the Ace economy. I relate so much to this guy it's fucking unreal. I don't think I've ever hyperfixated on a character this much. Like. So much so that I even got a fucking custom plushie made out of him and am constantly drawing him.

Anyways thanks for listening to my old man ramble, have an Ace my friend Fennex made.

[robiinurheart33]

Part 1

The next time Soap wakes up, he isn’t screaming anymore.

He sort of felt that after passing out from the pain of Ghost’s touch along with the stitches that he was gonna wake up in a shitton of pain but surpringly he felt…comfortable. Soap opens his bleary eyes to take stock of the situation. He’s obviously in one of the rooms in the safe house, the room completely void of light. Not even the moonlight is able to pierce through the blackout curtains. No doubt Ghost probably would’ve also dead locked the windows. He feels the cooling touch of a bedsheet under his fingers, the whirring of a fan blowing on his face. He can hear shuffling downstairs, Ghost probably settling down for a few days at the house before they’re cleared to go out.

Johnny sits up with a soft groan, hand patting his side where his stitches lie. His mind feels blissfully silent, like for once a higher being is allowing him to rest, if only for a short while. He feels 10 again when his socked feet slide across the ground as he stands, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and opening the door to the bedroom. Johnny isn’t completely sure of where his bedroom is located, but he manages to find the living room easily and by extension; Ghost. He looks ethereal and deadly in the moonlight, sitting on the couch and cleaning his guns.

“About time you woke up.” Christ, he sounds exhausted. Has he rested even once when he patched Soap up?

“How long was I out?”

A pause. “Long enough.” Ghost sounded more gravely than usual. Soap tries not to dwell on it, what it implies. He knows that even if he tries to get Ghost to rest, it would end up fruitless. He knows other ways to trick him into resting.

Johnny spots his phone on the table and checks the time. 2:37am. Shit, it’s been quite a while since he passed out. They left for the op at 4am, and arrived at the safe house at around 7:30am. He’d been sleeping all this time. He sighs and perches himself onto the couch arm. Far enough that he isn’t invading Ghost’s personal space, but still remaining within his reach. He stares at the generic wallpaper his phone is blinking back at him. His real phone is back in his bedside table at base. The wallpaper is of his family about 8 years ago, all of them grinning at a eyefish filter Johnny’s sister took. Johnny looks ridiculous, his mowhawk not yet making its debut, and an old phase of a beard is evident on his face, bushy and proud. This was taken when they were all on vacation together, a rare occasion when he was able to save enough offs and before all the kids, complications and death. There were the MacTavishes, once upon a time. His mother, two older sisters and a little, blue eyed John. Remember John, His sister hissed, wagging a finger in his face. You’re a Mactavish. When we get down we get the fuck back up again. He’s always admired his sister. he misses them both so, so, much.

“Do you sometimes ever wonder if this life is really worth it?” Johnny suddenly blurts out. He feels his face immediately start burning. God, that’s embarrassing. “Being in the military, I-I mean.”

He knows that Ghost, out of all people would be the worst person to talk to about feelings. He’s an important person that has more responsibilities to lie his focus on, much less his feelings. Shit, can he take back the words? No, that would be even worse. Can Ghost just ignore him? No, wait, that might be even worse if they just stay in this stupid awkward silence Soap subjected them to-

“All the time.”

Johnny whips his head around so fast he’s sure he has whiplash.

“A-all the time?”

To be honest, Johnny never really thought Ghost has a life outside of the military. He never talks about family, friends or maybe even a girlfriend. He doesn’t like to think of the implications or anything about his past. It just felt invasive and inappropriate to do so, even if they were close. Price had told him one late night, smoke curling lazily behind his ear, with low murmurs and blood shot eyes that Simon has no one left to mourn him. Johnny didn’t ask for the details. He didn’t have any right to.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate. Johnny doesn’t blame him.

He turns back to staring at the wooden walls deprived of any decoration, not even a small potted plant. He takes a deep inhale and sighs, breathing in the stale air. Fuck it. Whether he wants to hear it or not; Johnny can’t take the pain of awkward silence.

“My mom back home, she…” He wet his lips, thinking for a moment. “She writes to me, sometimes. Tells me every single detail of her day, that old hag.” Johnny chuckles, tracing the gnarly stitch work Ghost had done on him over his shirt. “But that’s just because she doesnt have anything else going on in her life. Which, I mean, it does sound depressing, but she’s in her own little bubble y’know? She goes to her yoga class, book club, she bakes, and she’s just fine with that life.” He looks over at Ghost, who’s now looking right at him, gun hanging loosely from his hands.

Soap thinks it would probably be a nice way to go. If Ghost shot him in the head right now.

“She’s…. Happy. I think. I hope so.”

“Hm.”

Soap scratches at the base of his neck, looking out the window. The grass seemed to stretch on forever, into the horizon. The moon is just a sliver today, peeking over from its shadow, casting a light blue tint over everything. He thinks if he stood on the road and looked straight ahead, it would look something like those pictures they make you stare at when they check for eyesight at the doctor’s, but without the hot air balloon.

A soft click alerts Soap back to reality, watching Ghost place down his gun.

“Let me get dinner.”

He blinks.

“You haven’t eaten?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Soap hears a few pots cutleries clink against one another.

“…was waiting for you.”

And fuck, if that just makes his intensities melt and swirl together. Ghost was waiting for him? He was waiting for Soap to wake up to eat dinner together? Jesus Christ. He manages to crack a smile, and a little too tender “aww, Ghostie.” Gets breathed.

He comes back around to face Soap, handing him his MRE with a plastic fork sticking out of it, stream curling from the packet. He can smell the curry chicken and he almost sobs.

“You got me my favourite?”

“Don’t sound so emotional, Sargent. It just happened to be in my bag.”

Ghost plops down onto the couch and pulls off his mask to scarf down his bag, barely stopping for a breath.

Soap chuckles. “Goddamn animal..” He ignores the way his ears feel hot and his chest feels itchy, just holding the packet in his hands.

He fidgets around with it, letting the heat seep into the palms of his hands, wondering how long it would last, if it would stay there forever, cupped in his skin, his bones. Wonders if he could press it to his chest and the heat would spread throughout his body, into his head. If he ate the food would it warm him from the inside out, would it taste as delicious as how Ghost’s considerations made him feel?

“Jesus Christ just eat the fuckin’ food Johnny, before it gets cold.” Ghost grumbles, speech a bit muffled due to the food in his mouth.

He giggles before picking up the fork, scooping up some of the rice and shoving it in his mouth. He lets out an appreciative hum, scooping up more rice and chicken, stuffing more and more into his mouth.

Eventually, Johnny slides from the armrest to the actual couch cushions, tossing the empty packet onto the table with a content sigh. Ghost had resorted to staring out the window now, arms resting on his knees with his hands clasped together as if deep in thought. The Scot lays his head back on the cushions, closing his eyes for a bit. He doesnt want to disrupt the silent peace they have going on right now.

“Soap.”

“Hmm?”

“Let me check your stitches.”

He opens one eye to look at Ghost.

“Mkay.”

Before he could shift his body towards him though, Ghost already slipped to the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of soap’s legs.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s easier this way. I don’t want you to turn any more than you have to. This’ll be quick.” he says, like Soap isn’t currently fighting for the air to go into his lungs at the way he just with no hesitation start to go for the hem of his shirt.

“Jesus, okay! Fine, i can do it myself.” He grumbles, slapping Ghost’s hand away before quickly pulling his shirt off.

Now, it isn’t the first time Ghost has touched him, nor will it be the last. For fuck’s sakes, he was screaming in anguish just less than 25 hours ago, and Ghost was touching him in the exact same spot. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t physical contact for the sake of keeping all his organs intact, it was more out of concern for his safety. It is also a helluva lot more intimate the last few times they’d touched. (Not like he was keeping count) The moonlight hits him from the back of his head, making his brown eyes shine in the dark. He always looked like he was on the verge of tears, Soap noted a long time ago. They were constantly glassy, waterline reddish-pink an eyelashes longer than a damn horse. His pupils always looked intense and scary, black in the sunlight, caramel in the moonlight. Soap’s sweating now, more so that he’s actively pinning Soap under that stare, watching for any painful expression.

As he reached forward, big bastard he is, knocks his knees apart so that he’s more in between his legs than in front of them. Johnny breathes. His ears are definitely red now.

The first touch felt more like a jolt than anything, cold fingertips pressing into his side.

“Fuck, Ghost, you don’t have any blood in ya?” Johnny cracks a nervous smile, trying to lighten the mood. Ghost doesnt reply, eyes now trained on his midriff.

His left hand cups his waist, their contrasting temperatures slowly making its way to even themselves out. Soap can’t help but shiver, Ghost suddenly whipping his hand away like he’d burned him. He blinks, looking up at Johnny.

“Sorry.”

“S’ okay, sir. Just didn’t know you have the touch of an ice princess.”

He slaps his ribs, pretty eyes narrowing as he focuses on his stitches again. His left hand comes back to cup his waist, thumb right above the stitches. His right thumb is below the wound, hand resting on his belly, pinkie on his military-issued shorts.

In all honesty, Johnny’s completely losing it. The touch is like liquid nectar spread across his middle, settling under his ribs and squeezing his lungs. He feels indulgent, gluttony taking in the form of Ghost’s touch. It’s so much more than he’s expected it to be, and he feels a bit light headed. The thumb tracing so, so carefully along the uneven stitches almost feels like it could be mistaken for care, for love. Johnny’s light headed, and his limbs feel heavy like it turned into lead. It felt feather light, and all too special. Like if Soap wasn’t completely honed in on whatever the hell is happening right now, the moment would slip away and he would regret it for the rest of his life. So he savours. He memorises the touch pads of ghost’s fingertips against his skin, the light framing his body, his eyes fixated on the stitches. Fuck, fuck. What Soap would give to feel like this all the time.

In spite of his internal turmoil, Ghost looks up at him, eyelashes fluttering.

“You good?”

Johnny swallows, Ghost’s eyes following the motion.

“Yeah- yeah I’m good.”

please touch me more. please hug me. please cup my face and touch me as gently as you do for my wounds. please take care of me. please care.

Soap’s flushing hot now, he doesn’t need to look in a mirror to know. Ghost’s eyes hone in on him, pupils trained onto his body for what, soap doesnt even know. He tries to look as normal as possible with your CO’s hands on him so warm, so gently, like he belongs there.

Whatever Ghost is looking for, he finds as he sighs softly, letting his hands drop and now resting on his hips.

God fucking damn it Ghost is driving him crazy

“You got any siblings?” His hands absentmindedly squeeze him, and Soap mentally checks out. He’s done. He’s actually dying. This is heaven. Or hell. Either way, he doesn’t ever want to leave.

“Two sisters.” He manages to squeeze out as much as he can without his body moving. He’s tuned in with every nerve, so, so scared that if he moves Ghost will take away his hands.

“Youngest?”

“Mhm.”

“Can tell.”

“Haud yer wheest.” He grumbles, looking at anywhere but Ghost. Why hasn’t he moved yet?

“Tell me about them.”

Johnny scrambles for any kind of information on his sisters to tell him.

“Well- uh. Marjorie is my oldest. Uh- oldest sister. She hates her name. Has a bubbling little husband little ways from our home. Lovely guy, has no backbone. Honestly could not tell you how he managed to bag my sister. He even says it’s a miracle, heh.” The more he talks, the more he relaxes. “Middle sister, Gwyneth, she.. uh. She has a little rascal running around at home. Little runt, that kid. Fuckin’ love her.”

“Sounds like your mom has a knack for naming her kids.”

“Yeah right, imagine a Marjorie, Gwyneth and then just John.” He shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Lame name.”

“It’s a okay name.”

“Ghost, i can literally name you 10 guys I’ve met with the same name as me. Our captain is named John.”

“Yeah you’re right there. John is a shit name.”

“Shut up!” Johnny giggles, raising his hand as if he was gonna hit Ghost.

“It’s better than Simon.”

A pause. “What’s wrong wit Simon? Right bonnie name, there.”

Even with the darkness, Johnny can feel Ghost’s eyebrow raising.

“Am’ serious! Simon…. Yeah, it’s a good name. Solid.”

He huffs, as if not believing it, one of his thumbs tracing patterns absentmindedly on the soft part of his midriff .

“Who wouldn’t love a Simon in their life, hm?” Soap hums, tapping the cheekbone of Simon’s mask with a finger.

“Simon.” He whispers again, just for good measure, and Ghost looks up at him, eyes shining so, so brightly. He looks almost wistful, hopeful if he looks too much into it. The hands at his hips squeeze.

Fuck.

“Simon.”

I love you.

I love you so much I can’t bear it sometimes.

Johnny says nothing else.

“We should probably go sleep now. We have to get up in less than 5 hours.” He whispers.

Ghost hums an agreement, but neither of them move for a long time.

“Okay.” Ghost mumbles, breaking the spell first. He climbs up to his feet and looks down at johnny one last time, hooking an index finger to his chin. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Johnny can feel the rumble deep in his chest. He doesn’t reply, only nods as he watches Ghost disappear down the hallway.

Once he’s out of sight, Soap buries his face in his hands and groans softly. God, his whole body is alight. How’s he ever gonna sleep now? How’s he going to move on with his life knowing how ghost’s hands felt on his waist, his hips, his chin? His face feels hot, and he scratches at his chest, wringing his shirt he picked up in his hands nervously.

He lays his head back, staring at the water stains on the ceiling.

He’s fucked.

[lindszeppelin]

https://www.lifeandstylemag.com/posts/austin-butlers-absence-from-kaia-gerbers-birthday-was-noticeable/

Life and Style with a new article today about Austin missing Kaia’s birthday. Hinting there is “trouble in paradise” which we’ve been saying for months. Funny how the source says Kaia is super private about her relationship so she won’t be commenting on it 🤣 Didn’t deny the shady Instagram post wasn’t about Austin either so…

That break up article is itching closer and closer…

First of all, this article was an exclusive. Meaning we have quotes from one of their PR teams on this.

Now, it's of my opinion that these quotes are from her team. The quotes we got from the "insider" are:

-“Kaia had a blast with her family and friends at Disney, but Austin’s absence was very noticeable,” -“She celebrated his birthday with him this summer, but he didn’t return the favor,” notes the insider. “That seems a little odd.” -“She is very private when it comes to relationships, so don’t expect Kaia to clarify whom her dig was directed toward. If there is trouble in paradise with Austin, she won’t say anything official.” -“Hopefully, it’s nothing, but the whispers the two have broken up are getting louder.”

Especially the one where it said "he didn't return the favor". As if he had a fucking obligation to go to her birthday party and being there would be "returning the favor". What a stupid way to put that.

This reads as her camp. And they're not shutting down anything either.

[alexglitches]

Li Jing Analysis #5

Adding this to the beginning since no one really reads my analyses. I have stated in them time and time again that I only focus on LMK Li Jing, and by correlation, Journey to the West as well (albeit very loosely since that’s how the show treats the book). In no way am I going to be referencing any other myths/media Nezha and Li Jing are in, ONLY LEGO MONKIE KID.

So if you try to argue in the notes about how Li Jing is abusive in Investiture of the Gods, I won’t listen since that’s NOT what we’re talking about. Only the LEGO versions, nothing else.

Okay, I think I should finally write this one out since I touched upon it in the 1st and 3rd analyses, but I genuinely believe that the fandom is blowing Li Jing’s character out of proportion because I have seen so many bs reasons as to why he’s ‘abusive’.

While yes, he is neglectful of Nezha, that’s due to his line of work, especially after he essentially became the replacement Jade Emperor and watched as the universe literally fucking fell apart.

“OooOoooOOooo he yelled at Nezha and Nezha backed away, he’s sooooo abusive!!” Like no??? Nezha was probably just caught off guard. If someone yelled at you like that, you’d be caught off guard.

“But he was so abusive in the mythos!!” I literally do not care. LMK isn't even based off of the mythos anyway. The only book that matters for this is JTTW, and even then, LMK is connected very loosely to the original story. Look at all the dead characters that are somehow alive now.

Like, there are so many different versions of Nezha and his birth, cause in some versions he was born from a lotus root, some he was just born from a lotus, and in the actual JTTW he’s just born. There are many different iterations of his mythos that people can’t tell which one is the “correct one”, even if there is one.

What I’m trying to say is, LMK literally doesn’t give two shits about any myths or chinese literature outside of JTTW, so in my analyses, I won’t be including a hundred different myths just to talk about a lego. And honestly, neither should you, because LMK Li Jing was written with JTTW in mind, and he doesn’t do anything in that except just show up when a fight gets tough and, as my friends put it, be lawful stupid. No abuse shown, he’s just sorta there.

And I think this should be a reminder to you all, that Nezha, despite his roles in the current seasons, still technically is a side character, so he’s not gonna get a whole arc dedicated to him and his dad working out their issues. His status as a side character is why they’re relationship is worked on off-screen (looks at the demon bull family).

So tldr, I feel like people are pulling excuses out of their asses to villainize Li Jing and take everything way out of proportion and we are NOT getting an entire season dedicated to his and Nezha’s relationship.

[h-awke-a]

varric's 'you people have done enough to him' is sooo..

[swagging-back-to]

worst trope is found family separating as soon as the antagonist is dealt with.

[ratislatis]

PETOPHER NATION HOW WE FEELING 2NITE 💃💃💃💃

[unhonestlymirror]

A bit strange feeling of living in Lithuania while looking like... Lithuania

[quietwingsinthesky]

just going to keep this au tucked into the back of my mind for the rest of the show btw. doctor who if his companions literally would not leave him alone. he keeps getting new companions and they’re just. integrated into the tardis family. bonding over how much they all love this weird pathetic spaceman who has enriched and/or ruined their lives.

[lesbiansanemi]

I am so fucking sick of living with my roommate and his fuck ass boyfriend. Also watching my roommate burn every single one of his (already rather minimal, I might add) bridges for this guy is also kind of painful but also his relationship with me is one of said bridges so I'm almost past the point of even feeling bad for him lmao

[biillys]

was always firmly on the what the fuck was billy’s mum thinking abandoning billy with neil train etc but then dacre went and opened his big mouth at that one con and said the they moved to hawkins to keep billy and his mum seperate and then [gestures vaguely to everything else he’s said about billy and his mum] so obviously my mind was like. okay well now i need to know everything. i need that backstory. and we’re never gonna get it until dacre drops the 237 hour long Life of Billy documentary. so for now we are just grasping at straws, and this straw i could not un-grasp. i hate myself. 

anyway.

billy's mom leaving, not by choice, but by force.

her and neil started with a whirlwind romance, neil with his clean cut up bringing and military service. her from the wrong side of the tracks, running wild and free, happy to be neil's spot of rough for a few weeks.

but then weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. neil stopping by to see her, and only her, when he was home on leave, and she felt so fucking special because of it. it didn't even matter on the days he got quiet, withdrawn, mad. he always came home to her.

she could deal with anything, everything, as long as he chose her.

loved her.

she was barely 22 when she found out about the baby, and suddenly the walls were closing in, and neil was ringing around and organising a wedding, and the feeling of trapped set in permanently.

she tried so hard to make it work, but her own parents were barely existent, and neil's parents had frowned upon her since the moment they met her, and any hope she had for role model options of an upstanding mother and wife had been dashed before she even knew she needed them.

but then billy was born, and he was in her arms, and she promised herself that she would never give up, that she would try, and they'd both make it out of this alive.

neil was gone a lot for the early parts of billy's life, leaving just her and her son alone, and slowly the trapped feeling started lifting, leaving behind nothing but love.

she was there for his first smile, was the first one to make him laugh, was there to watch him take his first steps, there to watch him take off running. heard his first word, and then every word after that. neil popped in and out, coming and going between tours, but billy was a mumma's boy through and through, and neil could never bond with him the way she could.

he tried, she'll give him that, but all efforts were quickly given up on, and it wasn't long before neil started in on being the firm parent, talking about how some kids just needed some tough love. stating that there was no reason billy should need to be sung to sleep anymore, that he was 2 years old, he should be putting himself to sleep by now, staying in his own bed the entire night. that he should eat all the food on the plate in front of him, and if he doesn't, then he can go to bed hungry. that tantrums and meltdowns and wrong doing's need more than a simple time out, that's the only way he'll learn.

and then neil would disappear again, and it would just be her and her little boy, and he'd sleep in bed with her all night, and he'd get dessert even when he didn't finish his dinner, cos 'no one likes carrots, baby, i just thought i'd let you try them', and when he draw on the wall with markers he wasn't meant to play with, she talked him through what was wrong, put him on time out, and then they went secondhand shopping for old used couches to cover up that section of wall.

neil never found out.

but then she gets the call, and her chest freezes, her hands white-knuckling the phone cord, because neil's coming home, and this time he's not leaving.

he's coming back for good.

she puts on a brave face, and makes the most of the last few days of peace with billy while she can. spending every moment she can with him by the water, spinning around and playing in the sun, walking to and from the beach on their usual route, billy having the corner shop owner wrapped around his little finger and getting a free lolly each trip.

doing her best to prepare for whats next, promising herself that no matter what, she can handle it. that for billy, she can handle anything.

except then neil's home, and he's everywhere. he has opinions on everything, and nothing she does is right, nothing billy does is okay, and neil use to sometimes be mad, but now he's angry. he's angry at the military for writing him off over an injury he claims he could've walked off, he's angry at her for fucking up their son, he's angry at billy for being a child, he's angry at the entire fucking world.

the first time he hit her, they weren't married. billy wasn't even a thought. she let it go, thinking it was just a one off, a heat of the moment thing, brought out only because of their fight. and after months of no repeats, she figured she was right to let it go. but then it happened again, just before she found out about billy. then again, just after. again, just before billy's arrival, again, just after, again, and again, and again. but she never worried too much, because neil always left, and she always had a count down, a light at the end of the tunnel, a fail safe.

then she didn't, and neil was back, for better or for worse, and there wasn't anything she could do.

but she tried. he got angry, and she tried with everything she had to make sure billy was safe, that it was just her that got hurt. that billy would never know this side of his father. but as billy got older, and as neil got colder, firmer, she could only protect him from so much.

it felt like she was holding him, just a baby a few hours old in her arms one moment, then she blinked, and suddenly he was six, and scared, and so so brave, running at neil to try protect her, trying to tackle him to the ground.

her and neil's fights got louder, more frequent, more physical, and billy got quieter, more withdrawn, terrified.

the fight that broke them was over billy, naturally.

she came home from a shift from a local little clothes boutique where she'd picked up some part time work, only to find billy sitting at the kitchen table, head down, sniffling, doing his homework, and neil standing at the stove and stirring a pot, his eyes never leaving his son, looking at him the same way he looks at her when she accidentally fucks up dinner.

"you okay, honey?" she asks as she cards her hand through his hair. he sniffles again but nods, still not looking up.

she doesn't believe him even for a second, but she knows what it's like to have neil's weighted stare sitting on you, so she lets it go for the moment and leaves to get changed.

when she comes back, neil's finally turned around and focused on the stove, and billy's packing away his maths worksheets. she sits in the chair beside him and resumes running her hand through his hair.

"how was your day, baby?" she asks softly.

billy finally looks up at her, and the second her eyes land on the marks around his neck, the dried tear tracks all over his cheeks, his damp and shiny eyes, and the wince he doesn't even think to hide when he shrugs, she's out of her chair and grabbing neil by the arm and spinning him around within the second.

"what the fuck did you do?" she hisses at him, and neil has the nerve to continue fixing dinner, like their son isn't in pain, crying, just a few feet away from them at that very second.

"he needs to grow up, no more childish games. no more kid stuff," neil replies calmly, like billy isn't an actual child.

"he's six!" she stresses, because he is six, he's just a baby. he's her baby.

"he's old enough now to not-," neil starts, before getting cut off with-

"he's a child!"

"he doesn't need-"

"he is a kid! he is just a child, neil!" she yells, and part of her's worried about scaring billy, but neil hurt him. neil can lay his hands on her all he wants, but billy's always been off limits.

until today, apparently.

"he's our child- my child! you can not fucking touch him, ever."

it escalates, as all their arguments do, and before she realises what she's saying, she's threatening to leave, to take billy and never turn back. it’s not the first time she’s said it, but this time it feels right, feels like something finally settles into place.

neil waits calmly for her to finish her tirade before bringing reality down.

"you're gonna take my son away from me, huh? and what judge, in their right mind, would leave billy with you, a mother who can't even hold down a full time job, with a police record, and barely a handful of savings."

neil waits her out while she scrambles to find an answer, but that trapped feeling she had all those years ago comes back full force, and the only thing tethering her is billy, whose come up behind her and has buried his face into the small of her back, his hand gripping hers.

"i'm his mother," she breathes out, "courts favour the mother," she settles on, even though she knows that if this ended up in court, neil would fight her every step of the way, and a sinking feeling in her gut tells her he would win.

he always wins.

in the end, it's neil that takes her to court.

it's barely a custody battle. neil's always been good at putting on a show, winning over a crowd, turning on the charm. it doesn't seem to matter that she's the mother, that she finally landed a stable full-time job, that billy wants to stay with her. neil talks, and twists stories, paints an entirely different picture of their home life and situation than the reality; before she knows, he has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand before she can even try rebuttal anything.

he's given full time custody.

she's given nothing, not even contact, unless approved by neil himself.

neil never approves.

billy sneaks one call in though, because he's just like her, and he never gives up.

her heart feels like it’s breaking right down the middle, never to be repaired, and she knows he's too young to understand or comprehend, but she doesn't know how to explain to him the gravity of the situation. doesn't know how to tell him that if someone found out they made contact, that her chances of overruling the court order could be jeopardised. so she takes a page out of neils book, even though it tastes like acid in her mouth and makes her cry herself to sleep, and makes her voice as firm as it can go, tell's him that she had to go, to not call her again.

she'll hear billy crying 'i don't understand!' until the day she dies, she knows.

she works and fights for years. learns more about divorce and the child's court system than she ever expected to know, and tries everything she can to finally see him again. has long since moved on from the pipe dream of full custody, and is now just trying for visitation rights.

slowly, she gets somewhere. unfortunately, everything she gets approved for has to go through neil first, and neil blocks her at every turn. he answers every call, and hangs up every time. all letters are returned, unopened, never making it to billy's hands.

(billy completely unaware of everything. forbidden to answer the phone, never seeing any mail addressed to him. isn't even aware that his parents are even in contact, let alone at war.)

before she knows it, he's lived more life without her than with her, she's missed more birthdays with him than celebrated, and soon he won't even legally be a child.

sometimes she thinks maybe if she just waits ‘til he's legally an adult, then she can try reach out, and neil won't have any leg to stand on. her and billy will be free. but then she remembers neil, she remembers how he tried to raise him, how the purpose of this arrangement wasn't for neil's benefit, but for her and billy's punishment's. she remembers billy's voice on the phone, crying, begging her to take him too.

she promised herself she wouldn't give up, and she won't.

she writes him another letter, but instead of folding it up and putting it in an envelope, hargrove residence address dotted on the front, she simply folds the piece of paper, writes 'for billy' on the outside, and calls in an old family friend. someone that was around in the early days of her and neil, close enough to still probably be in town, but distant enough to hopefully not be too chummy with neil. it's risky, but she's desperate.

luck seems to be on her side though, because she barely explains the situation before he's nodding along and taking the note. promises her that he'll have it delivered asap; neil won't know a thing.

she hugs him and thanks him repeatedly before she sits and waits. takes a moment to think about how this might take more than a few hours, but like fuck is she gonna miss whatever happens next.

-

billy and max are hanging out at the skate park on a sunny as fuck day when it happens. billy's sitting at the top of the half pipe, legs dangling over the edge while he has a smoke, when he hears his name get called out. he looks over to see some old guy trying to get his attention, nodding his head over and holding up a piece of paper, and billy's two seconds away from telling him to fuck off, except he looks vaguely familiar in a distant kind of way, and billy kinda wants to know what the fucks up. he grabs his board before sliding down and cautiously walking over, glaring at the guy holding out the letter. billy reaches out and grabs it.

"good luck, kid," the guy says, then walks away.

"the fuck?" billy stares after him as he goes, then looks back down at the letter in his hand. he flips it over and reads the neat and cursive 'for billy' on the front, the flips it open.

max takes one look at his face, which has lost all it's colour, and chooses that moment to wander over and try to casually take a peek. the second he realises he's got an audience, he quickly shoves the note into his pocket and wipes a hand over his face, quickly pulling himself together.

"fuck off, shitbird," he basically growls.

max levels him with a glare but takes off on her board, rolling her eyes at his dramatics. she didn't even get a chance to read a single word.

billy shoots a look at a bunch of middle schoolers hogging a park bench that’s mostly secluded, and after they all flee, takes a seat to read the letter properly in peace.

the letter doesn't say too much, just that his mom's fighting for him, and she's never stopped fighting for him. that she loves him, and she's sorry it's taken her so long, and that she promises, soon, they'll see each other again, if that's something he still wants.

it's been 9 years, give or take, since he's seen his mom, and the longer it's drawn out, the angrier he's got. he's well aware he's got abandonment issues, and he's pretty sure they all started with her, from the very second she told him to stop calling her, and they’ve only grown with every second she hasn't been in contact since.

but the second he reads the letter, the moment 'i've never stopped fighting for you' digs and etches itself onto his brain, the anger he has just drains out of him, and suddenly he's seven years old again, desperate to see her.

he folds the note as small as he can, and slips it in the smaller hidden pocket of his jeans that he's never known a function for, and guards that pocket like it's his only hope. scrubs at his face with his hands to make sure there's no evidence of any tears, and schools his face into the usual scowl.

he hangs back and chills on the bench until max is ready to go, in absolutely no hurry to get home, then spends the entire trip back ignoring her and her 50 questions. max gets pissed pretty quickly with the silent treatment, and within two blocks has turned the silent treatment back on him.

later on, while billy’s finishing a late assignment under neil’s watchful gaze and max is helping her mom out in the kitchen, things fall apart.

susan asks how max’s day was, and before billy can even attempt to signal for her to keep her mouth shut, she’s telling her mom about the weird guy giving billy letters at the park. susan turns to him and starts talking about stranger danger and accepting things from people he doesn’t know in public places, and billy has no choice but to nod along and agree. he casts a glance over at his dad and finds him looking straight at him.

billy swallows and wipes his hands on his jeans before trying to focus back on his school work and prays his dad will drop it.

billy’s never that lucky.

he hears his dad stand up slowly from his armchair and make his way towards the kitchen.

“what’s this about a letter?” neil asks casually, walking up to the table.

billy glances at max and susan, then back to his dad.

“nothing,” billy grips his pencil tightly and makes sure his voice keeps steady. “just some guy trying to get people to go to his band’s gig. he handed out flyers to the whole skatepark.”

he makes sure to not break eye contact and hopes it’s enough.

“he called you by name, and you were the only one who got a note,” max points out, looking at billy like he’s lost his mind. billy kinda wants to fucking strangle her. he swallows, and continues to keep eye contact with neil.

“most guys know my name there, it was noth-”

“where is it?” neil cuts him off.

“where’s what?” playing dumb hasn’t really worked for him before, but billy’s willing to try again.

“where’s the letter, billy.” neil’s not asking anymore. billy can feel his palms getting clammy.

“i threw it out.” billy wishes his voice didn’t waver, that he could keep his shit together, but he can feel himself breaking under the weight.

neil looks at him for a second longer before walking with purpose straight to billy’s room. billy quickly pushes his chair out and follows him, almost running into his back when neil stops dead in the doorway.

“you tell me where the letter is, or i tear apart this room until i find it. your choice, son,” neil doesn’t even bother turning around to say it to his face.

billy closes his eyes and thinks about the letter currently burning a hole in his pocket, ‘i’ve never stopped fighting for you’ flashing in his memory, and suddenly the anger that left him earlier is back full force.

“I don’t. fucking. have it,” he spits out.

neil finally turns to him and raises an eyebrow, a silent ‘you sure you wanna do this’ look, and- fuck it. his mom basically fucking hand delivered a letter to him just to tell him that she’s still out there, and she’s coming for him.

billy just raises an eyebrow back then throws his arms out in a ‘be my guest’ gesture. takes a step back so he can lean against the doorway and watch.

neil upturns everything he can get his hands on, breaks his flimsy bedside table, rips the sheets off his bed, empties out all his drawers, pulls out all his clothes. throws all his records and knickknacks on the ground. comes up empty.

billy can feel the anger running through his veins, watching his dad destroy his room and all his possessions. max and susan have came over to see what the commotion’s about and are watching on in horror.

“give me the letter, billy,” neil says slowly, breathing heavily, getting right up in billy’s space, “now.”

billy looks him dead in the eye.

“no,” he breathes out, no hesitation.

“give me the letter, now, billy!” neil slams his hand against the doorway, just above billy’s head, finally losing any calm he had.

"no," he repeats, leaning right back into his dads space, a half feral smile starting to spread across his face. his dad's so fucking mad. billy usually doesn't get this far under his skin on purpose, but god it feels good to be in control for once.

neil slides a hand down his face and takes a deep breath before straightening up, focusing back on his son.

"give me your car keys," neil says, holding his hand out expectantly.

billy grinds his jaw before reaching a hand around and grabbing his keys from the shelf by the door, smacking them down in neil's hands.

neil shoves past him and makes his way outside, the whole family following. billy catches sight of max's face, her wide eyes, and clenches his hands at his sides. if she had just kept her fucking mouth shut.

by the time billy and the girls make it out the front, neil's already tore into every compartment of his car.

"i told you, i don't have it," billy repeats again.

"neil, honey, he say's he doesn't have it, maybe-," susan tries, but neil's not having it.

"empty your pockets," neil says, climbing out of the camaro and walking right up to billy, leaving barely a space between them.

"empty. your. pockets," he repeats, slowly, quietly, dead calm.

billy lifts his chin a bit, glaring defiantly, but he can feel his heart pick up the pace, and sweat start to gather on his forehead.

he empties his pockets.

places his pack of smokes, his lighter, a two day old receipt, and a ring that he took off earlier onto his dads hands. waits.

neil looks down at what billy's discarded and silently fumes. billy clenches his jaw, then breathes out a quiet, "i don't have it."

his father holds his gaze before nodding.

"okay."

he moves past billy, past susan and max, and heads back to his armchair.

"fix up your room, it's a mess," then looks at susan and gestures to the fridge. she instantly gets the message and quickly moves to grab him out a beer.

max looks between them all like she doesn't understand what just happened, and billy can't fucking deal with this. he heads back to his room, getting ready to try salvage what he can.

doesn’t dare bring the letter out from its hiding spot, doesn’t even touch a hand to that pocket, just in case his dad can just sense it.

thinks, prays, that that’ll be the end of it. that neil would actually let it go.

he should’ve known better.

they sit down for dinner the next night, and no one’s mentioning what happened yesterday, but it’s sitting heavily in the air. max still looks like she’s trying to figure out what the fuck happened, susan looks like she’s trying to pretend everything’s normal, like nothing’s out of the ordinary, and his dad digs into his food like he does every other night, like he didn’t lose his absolute shit the night before. billy falls for it, believing for just a few minutes that his dad’s moved past it.

it’s when his dad’s finished his dinner that the other shoe finally drops.

“i talked to my boss today,” he starts, “and there’s a job opening in a different warehouse. we leave on friday.”

susan looks speechless, and max looks livid, but billy can feel the floor slipping out from underneath him.

“neil. what-” susan starts, before trailing off uselessly, before finally picking her next question. “where?”

“hawkins,” neil responds, wiping at his face with a cloth before pushing his plate away, “indiana.”

“what the fuck?” billy drops his knife and fork and throws a hand out, “indiana?”

“indiana? indiana?” max yells, completely disregarding neil and throwing all her anger at her mother.

“neil, we should talk about this, i mean-” susan tries, but falls silent when neil shoots her a look.

“we move,” he levels them all with a look, one at a time, “on friday. no questions.”

“what about my dad? what about my friends?” max bites out, levelling neil a look right back.

billy feels like he can’t fucking breathe, wants to tell her that neil doesn’t give a flying fuck about her dad, couldn’t care less about keeping them separated - just look at the situation they’re in now - but theres a lump in his throat, and he doesn’t think he could talk right now if he tried.

“phones exist, maxine” neil responds, ending the conversation there and then, pushing his chair out and heading to the living room.

susan has her head in her hands but quickly picks herself up and tries to do damage control with max, even if max doesn’t seem to be having a bar of it.

billy’s fucking shaking. doesn’t even know where to begin to fix this. there was no phone number in the letter, no forwarding address, no contact information. just his mom telling him she’s trying, she’s doing everything she can.

there’s only gonna be so much she can do if neil drags him half way across the fucking country.

he’s only had the hope of his mother coming back into his life for just over a day and he’s already grown so attached to the idea that the thought of it no longer happening has him spiralling in ways he’s never felt before.

fuck.

(they move on the friday. arrive on a sunday. billy builds his new room from the ground up, his bed frame and mattress along side a few items of clothes and bedside table objects being the only survivors of neils rampage. everything else he improvises or goes without. 

him and max are on the outs. billy unable to see past his own rage and grief, and so so quick to blame, and max just as angry and emotional as he is, but with only half the picture, fully ready to give it right back.

billy hoping and praying that somehow, his mum figured out that neil moved them. that she knows where he is, how to find him. but the longer he goes without another letter, the more it sinks in that it’s too late. the small window they had is closed. 

neil watches him like a hawk now, makes him chauffeur max around town, keeps on top of him about his grades, his extra curricular activities. their new house in hawkins is bigger, but billy’s never felt so trapped.

max has a bat in her hands, and billy was standing, but now he’s on the floor, and there’s other kids around cheering her on, there’s blood on his hands, and this isn’t the night billy had planned, but this is the night billy got. he listens to her tell him to stay away, watches as she swings the bat, hears her yell ‘say it’, can feel whatever the fuck she injected him with running though his veins, and wants to scream.

he didn’t realise how much of neil got to her, too. wishes neil got to her in the same way he got to him, that she would just fucking understand, then hates himself for it. 

that’s the one thing that him and sue can agree on, that max stays out of it.

they settle on a truce eventually. billy so fucking tired, can’t hold onto the constant anger anymore, and max never really knowing the real reason they were fighting to begin with. the older she gets, the more of the picture she sees, but they never show her all the colours, and she’s already discovered her own monsters in this town, she can’t handle the idea of them living in her own home, so she tries her hardest to look the other way.

it’s not easy though, and it doesn’t take much for the illusion to shatter.

her and billy going from having a truce, to having an actual understanding. she’s still none the wiser about his mother, and billy’s never gonna just open up and spill his guts, but she knows enough. has had one or two of her own run-ins with neil. knows how to read the room now from the second she steps in the house, the way billy’s always been able to. 

he’s not actually that bad of a brother to have, now that she’s finally getting to know him.

that’s the only thought going though her head, when she watches him stand up to the mindflayer.

she watches him take on an inter-dimensional monster, a monster that el can only fight with her supernatural powers, that will had to get burned out of him, a monster that can tear apart the literal fabric of the universe, and thinks, he was never actually that bad of brother, when she finally started to understand him. 

sees him use nothing but his bare hands to fight back, to save el and her, to save all of them, and wants to throw up. her minds screaming at her to run towards him, to pull him away, for them all to run, but she can’t fucking move, all she can do is watch.

the monster finally falls, but so does billy, and when max’s feet finally find movement, she’s running to his side as fast as she can. she begs and pleads and cries, trying so fucking hard to help get him through this, but all he does is look at her, tears in his eyes and and covered in blood, and chokes out an i’m sorry. 

max feels his last breath leave him, and feels the second his heart stops beating and thinks, i’ll never get the chance to fully know him, now.

billy’s written out to be a hero in the local news reports, saving them all from a tragic fire, and everyone around town offers their condolences every chance they get. max wants to hit something. she dreads going out, doesn’t wanna see a single pitying look. has stopped answering the front door, doesn’t wanna eat another fucking casserole from patricia, who lives two houses down, who’s married to harry, who accused billy of stealing his garden shit like once a fucking week, getting billy in the shit with neil, constantly.

a month passes, and things are tense. neil’s drinking more than ever, having lost his job just two days after billy’s funeral. her mum’s trying to keep things together, but there’s only so much she can do when nobody else is willing. 

max sure as fuck isn’t about to try and play happy families.

it’s on a thursday night when the doorbell rings, and max tightens the grip on her fork.

“you’d think they’d have run out of recipes to try on us,” max mutters dully, before shoving some mash potato in her mouth.

“ignore it,” neil says to susan, completely disregarding max, before going back to his own dinner.

the doorbell rings again, and then again a third time, and a fourth time. susan grows tenser with every bell that chimes, and max looks between both adults, waiting to see who’ll break first.

neil slams his knife and fork down on the table before shoving his chair out and storming towards the door, ripping it open. susan follows quickly, and max rolls her eyes before following as well. it’s been at least a week since the last neighbour tried to shove food at them, and maybe it might be some baked goods from mrs. taylor this time. at least she can actually bake.

max doesn’t recognise the person at the front door, but it’s clear neil does.

she has long wavy blonde hair, terrified eyes, and looks like she’s ready to go to war.

“where is he?” she asks, her arms folded and hands white knuckling in their grip. “he’s eighteen now, you can’t keep me away.”

max feels her stomach sink.

“he’s been eighteen for months now,” neil says back, monotonous.

max watches the terrified look get overshadowed by anger.

“do you have any idea how long it took me to find you, to find him, after you up and left?” she takes a stop forward and throws a hand out, giving neil a filthy look before breathing out and looking away.

her eyes have turned to water, and max watches as she wipes at her eyes the exact same way billy did when neil got him to turn to water at the kitchen table.

“well,” neil starts, some emotion creeping back into his voice, “you’re too fucking late.”

neil slams the door in her face.)

(billy’s mum sticks around, because she refuses to leave without answers, not after searching for her baby for almost eleven years, and now, finally getting so fucking close she could touch.

she can’t touch, though, because there’s six feet of earth between them. her baby boy’s in a wooden box, buried deep underground, with dead flowers at his grave- flowers that have probably been there since the day of his funeral - because no one’s been to visit him.

she touches his headstone gently, traces the words ‘gone but not forgotten’ with her fingertips, and she’s spent the entire time since susan tried to brokenly explain everything denying it, but right here, looking at his grave, she can’t anymore. once the first tear slips, they don’t stop.

susan stands a small distance away, max just beside her, and feels the guilt and smallest hint of relief crush her. 

guilt at never knowing who this person was, never even knowing she was trying to reach out. guilt for accepting everything neil every told her without question or fight. guilt for every occasion she looked the other way, the way she complied every time neil said he’d parent his son, and she’d parent her daughter. 

guilt at the bone-deep relief that it’s billy in the grave, and not max. 

susan still doesn’t know what happened for sure that night, all the details never quite adding up, but the only solid thing max would give her was that billy saved her. billy died to save them all.

one time, susan spent some of their savings on fixing the kitchen sink. when neil got home and saw the little money jar on the bench emptier than when he’d left for work, he instantly accused billy. it has been the last day of school that day, with no commitments to be at for at least a week. 

neil didn’t hold back. 

billy tried to reason that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and steal money from the extremely obvious savings jar, especially when he already had a job and income of his own, but the more billy denied it, the angrier neil got.

neil didn’t get violent with billy in front of her often, but he seemed to be on a hair trigger that night, and susan didn’t know where to even begin to try stop it.

she tried to step in gently, to tell neil that it was her, that the sink needed some maintenance. he didn’t listen to a word she said. she gave up without a fight.

it wasn’t until later that night that susan found out that neil’d got his second warning at work, one more warning and he’d be fired. he claimed he didn’t deserve the warnings, that saving money didn’t mean cutting corners, just meant he knew how to do his job efficiently. his boss didn’t agree. 

she tried to justify it to herself that billy probably would’ve copped it that night either way.

billy came out to the kitchen the next morning with a swollen face and a barely noticeable limp and got himself a glass of water. turned the tap on with extra force since it’d been fucking up lately, only for it to turn on without any effort at all, no noise or clunks either. he turned to look at susan, look at the money jar, then clenched his jaw and abandoned his still full cup in the sink, and locked himself up in his room, his music blaring just a second later. 

he barely acknowledged her for a week.

now, as she stands back and watches his mother weep, she thinks she may never be able to forgive herself.

thinks that if someone ripped max away from her, and she finally found her again after searching for basically max’s entire life, only to find her in a casket, after living with someone so spineless they couldn’t even protect her, that she would never be okay again.)

(max not knowing how to talk to billy’s mum. leaving the room every time she enters it. not knowing how to handle the fact that she’s alive, and billy’s dead, and she just stood back and watched. 

just wanting to go to sleep and never wake up on the nights she stays up too late thinking about how she stood by and watched him die a slower and more painful death long before the mind flayer ever came into the picture.

billy’s mum’s not having it, is the thing. 

she’s read the articles, listened to the towns people talk. heard all praise about her sons heroics as well as the quiet re-tellings of his delinquent ways. listened to the whispers about his reckless california driving, his dangerous and careless attitude, only for them to paste a sympathetic smile on their face when she rounds the corner, muttering about how he died too young, was taken too soon. the police telling her how this town lost a lot of people that night, but her sons final actions saved more than he could ever know, except they say his name like they’re pushing it through gritted teeth, and she wants to scream. her baby boy died to save his little sister and her friends, and this town will never forgive him for being the teenager he was raised to be. 

she tries so fucking hard to talk to max at every given chance, just so she can hear about him though her eyes.

max cracks eventually. she leans into the part of her that billy carved out and shaped himself, the side of her that jumps straight to anger and rage and disbelief. yells at his mum for leaving him in the first place, of fucking up her only son beyond belief, then after watching his mum take it so fucking gracefully and so fucking deeply, turning on herself. spits out about how much of a shit show this family really was. how she was just his shitty little sister. how they hated each other most days, and had only just started to get along. how she never should've been in that mall in the first place, and billy sure as hell shouldn’t have been there either. how he never should have died, especially the way he did, because he was never meant to be a part of it to begin with. how it’s her fault. how she could have, should have, saved him, but she froze up, because she was scared, she was fucking terrified, and so billy took it, and now he’s dead. and it’s all her fault.

when she finally looks back at his mum, there’s tears streaming down her face, and she has a hand over her mouth trying to stifle any sobs, but she’s still looking at max with such fucking soft eyes, and then she’s slowly walking towards her with her arms open wide, and max is falling into them and breaking down before she can think of running away.

billy’s mum carding a hand through her hair and telling her that it’s okay, that she’s gonna be okay, that it’s not her fault. starts telling her about how billy’s always been a do first, think later person, that he’s had the biggest heart she ever knew since the second he came into her life. how he use to try and protect her from neil, no matter the consequence. that he’s been protecting his family since before he even knew what it meant, or that he was even doing it. it was just how he was. how that’s how she knows max must’ve been important to him, because she still doesn’t quite know what happened in that fire, but she knows in her heart that billy knew exactly what he was doing in his last moments, and it was making sure max got home safely, and that’s probably all that mattered to him. that max made it home.

she was family to him, and therefore max was family to her.

she’s gonna spend the rest of her life with regrets and a sadness so deep that it’ll never be moved, but she got to meet the person, and the people, that billy died saving, and it’s never gonna be the same as the future she had dreamed about, the one she’s spent the past eleven years planning, but this is all she’s got. she’s gonna miss her son until her last breath, but she’s so so so fucking happy that billy had someone in his life that he cared about so deeply, he was willing to give it all up for her.)

(billy’s mum visiting his grave every chance she gets, and starting off every visit with an apology. telling him about the first time she held him in her arms, how he changed her life forever, and how she promised him that they’d both make it out of this life alive. how she’s so so so fucking sorry she failed him, and she was gonna spend the rest of her life making it up to him. 

updating him on max and susan, about how neil left, just fucking walked out one day, taking most the money with him, but it’s okay, cos she offered up the spare room and the pull out couch in her trailer to them, and max is now claiming part time custody of the neighbours dog. 

tells him about how max told her about the time he tried to teach her to surf, and she was so so so bad at it, but he kept dragging her out into the waves after spending what felt like hours on the shore teaching her the steps, and finally it clicked, and max still remembers the look on billy’s face the first time she caught her first wave. remembers how he fucking laughed at her when she inevitably wiped out.

tells him how susan seems to walk on eggshells around her, thanking her everyday for giving them a place to stay, and how once she’s back on her feet, they’ll be out of her hair. how she has her suspicions about why susan looks at her with such guilt in her eyes, but she knows what it’s like to be married to neil hargrove, and while there’s a part of her that’s so so so angry, she fucking gets it. she understands it in the most horrifying way possible, and she’s already made her peace with it.

she’s just so fucking sorry that billy spent so long thinking it was him against the world. that she abandoned him, that max had someone love her enough in the house to keep her safe, but billy believed he had no one.

she tells him that max gave her his jacket, and after not being able to hold it without crying for the first month, she finally had a proper look at it. how she found the note in a secret pocket on the inside of the chest. the letter she wrote to him, what feels like so long ago now, looking a little worse for wear, like it had been folded up and clenched tightly every single day, a couple of watermarks blurring some of the words. pulls out the only picture she has on him from when he was so so little, a toddler on her hip, them both grinning in the sun and sand. how its creased to hell and back and so fucking faded that you cant even tell the colour of her hat, but his smile lights up the picture anyway, and how most days, it was the only thing getting her through. how she hoped with everything she has that he was happy, but that if he wasn’t, that she gets it. and she’s so fucking sorry. and that one day, she’ll see him again, and she can’t fucking wait.)

[p2iimon]

drawing more furry fnaf art. yknow just to keep you posted. i love posting in the tags sorry these ones got away from me

[starlooove]

Hate this vid I just saw

[milimeters-morales]

im finally getting ads completely in spanish now including the close/exit/proceed/shop now buttons that are on them ^_^ gonna start a journal soon for it as well!