I cant interfere being on Sing 2 anymore after Fluffy’s drama. It’s her fault to make things look bad and add fan toxicity in to the fandom. If you cant understand boundaries, then you’re not ready to be part of any fandom at all, especially if you wanna show appreciation and love to the people you idolized most. They’re not robots that will automatically thank you for it. They don’t have to be friendly because they will show you signs that they’re not comfortable for having too much attention at all. If you can’t fucking listen, then you shouldnt have been on any social medias in the first place because I am also tired of your sorry-ass bullshit on this if you can’t keep it down at all FLUFFYWOLFPARIS
I CANT SUPPORT OR HELP YOU ANYMORE JUST BECAUSE YOU LIED TO ME AND YOU DARED TRYING TO STAY BEING A BITCH AND NOW I HAVE LOST PATIENCE BECAUSE OF YOU. YOU ARE THE PROBLEM. TELLING US TO NOT HATE YOU DOESN’T SOLVE ANYTHING. STOP BEING PETTY AND JUST FUCKING GET OUT AND CHANGE AN IDENTITY AFTER TWO YEARS OR SO. YOU ALREADY LEFT A FUCKING IMPACT ON A LOT OF US. IF YOU CANT CHANGE, THEN CONGRATS ON ABUSING YOURSELF FOR ENVY AND ATTENTION. YOU ALREADY GOT THE ATTENTION YOU WANT.
SERIOUSLY DO NOT INTERACT OR SUPPORT TO FLUFFY, THEY ARE A LIAR AND A BULLY
Just block them and report them
Heck that liar even blame it on autism which is fucked up the way she talks about and hopes there is a cure
She is not autistic, because there is now way a autistic person talks of their autism like that at all
I’m autistic and I’m offended by it, I’m happy just the way I’m , I’m not sick or don’t need a cure for it, autism is part of me and I’m happy being myself
SERIOUSLY DONT NOT INTERACT WITH FLUFFY, JUST REPORT AND BLOCK THEM PLEASE
Bullying is not ok and this small fandom does not need a asshole to starts problems just to get attention
This is the last post I’m going to make on the situation, mainly because it isn’t my place to speak for others, especially the victims in this situation. However, I do think it’s best to warn you guys, and to let you know when there is a toxic person that needs to be avoided or reported. As a member of such a small fandom as the Sing/Sing 2 fandom, I do strive to keep other people feeling comfortable, and that includes standing up for them when the time comes to do so.
If you want more information, I highly encourage you to speak to the victims, especially Trisha ( @trishabeakens). She has endured so much within just the span of a few months, and her perseverance is staggering. Trisha, I’m sending all of my love to you in this.
To all other victims of @/fluffywolfparis, I’m also sending you all my love, and my kindest regards. You all are amazing individuals, and I hope you are all aware that you have many people standing behind you, ready to protect you. <3
With that out of the way, I want to give a quick disclaimer that there will be mentions of topics such as stalking, su*c*de-baiting and blood. So, if you’re triggered by any of that, I recommend that you do not read through this post.
I also want to let you all know that I take situations like this very seriously. This post will not be created as a theory post, shit post, or anything that would be incredibly disrespectful to the victims. I do want to put a “Keep Reading” line, so that those who are sensitive to the topics being discussed will not have to scroll all the way through and endure said things.
Lastly, I would like to ask that you do not send hate to @/fluffywolfparis. Yes, what they’ve done is horrible, but fighting violence with violence is never the answer. @/fluffywolfparis’ Tumblr account has deactivated since the news began to spread of this callout post being created. She currently resides on Twitter and Instagram. To deter from anyone sending hate, I will not be revealing the names of her current accounts. For safety reasons, I must announce that any and all accounts mentioned in this post that belong to her are disabled or deactivated.
People in sing/sing 2 fandom be careful with fluffy and their friends, they have been harassing and bullying @trishabeakens for months now and they need to be stop
Miss Trisha is a kind and good person who does not deserves this
Please report fluffy and their friends and block them so they won’t bother you too
They are on tumblr, Instagram, Twitter and fluffy is on TIKTOK and they are making new accounts just to harass miss Trisha
I’m curious about one thing regarding the cardboard Happy Meal toys for Sing 2. Namely, the available toys are different in different countries - you either get 8 or 12 toys in the set - but also the packaging is different.
For example, the bus toy will either have Meena or Ash on the box. But there are other toys that also can get Meena or Ash on the box.
I want to know, if your country has Meena on the bus toy box, do you get the stage performance Meena toy at all? If yes, then who is on the box? Meena again?
Rosita, Ash and Nooshy all realize that something is up with Johnny
-
“Have any of you noticed that something is up with Johnny ?” Nooshy asked, sipping some water as she, Ash and Rosita watched Johnny practice with Meena onstage.
“Depends on what you mean ?” Ash asked, turning to look at Nooshy.
“Ever since Riley came on board the other day, he’s been kinda…sad.” Nooshy said.
“I see it too.” Rosita said. “When Riley comes and clears the stage, I see him just…staring at him and his eyes look so sad but he still tries to smile.”
“Well, should we say something ?” Ash asked. “To Johnny ? Or to Riley ? Because I thought they were friends but I never see Riley speak to or even look at Johnny.”
“I sense some unresolved tension between them.” Nooshy said. “But I think someone should talk to Johnny first.” She said, turning to look at Rosita. “Someone with a warm nature, a kind heart and motherly vibes.”
“Oh I don’t know…” Rosita said, rubbing her arm. “What if it’s personal ?” Rosita
“Come on Rosita, if anyone can get Johnny to open up, it’s you !” Ash encouraged. “Just catch him after practice and talk to him !”
Rosita had to think about it. Would Johnny even be willing to talk to her ? It was worth a shot. She sighed.
“Alright, I’ll do it.”
-
“Hey, Johnny, wait up !” Rosita said, catching up to Johnny just as he was about to leave. Johnny turned away from the door to face Rosita.
“Oh, hey Rosita.” Johnny said, giving her a smile. “Is there something you need ?”
“Is it alright if I steal a moment of your time ?” Rosita asked. Johnny nodded.
“Of course.” He said. “Are you okay ? Do you need anything ?”
“Actually, I want to talk about you.” Rosita said. Johnny immediately got a look of worry on his face.
“Oh no, it’s nothing bad, it’s just…I’ve just noticed that you’re acting different and you look kind of sad and I was wondering if you needed someone to talk to.” Rosita said, giving Johnny a reassuring look.
Johnny avoided her eyes, before he exhaled deeply.
“Fine but…. only because I know you won’t judge and please promise me that you won’t tell anyone.” Johnny said, giving Rosita a hopeful look. Rosita nodded, immediately throwing away all plans to tell Ash and Nooshy. Johnny took a seat on the floor, back against the door, Rosita sitting next to him, ready to lend an ear.
“Well… I brought Riley here as a favor for my dad but it’s… it’s actually been a while since I talked to him, the last time we talked, we had a fight.” Johnny said. “Thing is, we were actually really close growing up, our mums knew each other when we were in the womb, before then even, and we were born around the same time in the same hospital, our birthdays are only a week apart, so we were thick as thieves even as infants…” He tried to relax and continue on. “We grew up together, we shared our birthday parties with each other, we looked out for each other, he was there when my mum died and I was there when his parents went through a divorce and his mom left the country.”
“Oh wow…” Rosita said in astonishment. “You two were really close so… why did you have a fight ?”
Johnny looked Rosita in the eyes.
“If I tell you, you must keep it to yourself, this cant get out for anything.” Johnny said, a serious yet worried look on his face. “I haven’t told anyone this before, ever, I need to know if I can trust you with this, Rosita.”
“You can trust me, Johnny.” Rosita said, with a nod. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”
Johnny sighed and closed his eyes.
“Alright… it happened our senior year of high school.” Johnny started. “It was the start of the grade and Riley an’ me were skipping gym class and we hung out in the empty choir room ‘cus he knew I loved to sing and he always encouraged me to sing and because of that…. I had a massive crush on Riley.” He said. “I didn’t think he’d feel the same but for some reason on that day, I was encouraged to try but I couldn’t say my feelings so…I sang them.”
“What did you sing ?” Rosita asked, curiously.
“One of his favorite songs.” Johnny said with a small smile. “Well I know that getting you alone isn’t easy to do.” He sang softly. “With the exception of you, I dislike everyone in the room and I don’t wanna lie, but I don’t want to tell you the truth, Get the sense that you’re on the move and you’ll probably be leaving soon, so I’m telling you.” Johnny paused, to quickly regain himself, feeling a sense of overwhelming emotion but he couldn’t stop the dam from bursting. He felt tears fall from his eyes as he continued to sing.
“Stop the world 'cause I wanna get off with you…. Stop the world 'cause I wanna get off with you…”
“Oh Johnny…” Rosita said in a comforting tone as she rubbed his arm. “Then what happened ?”
“He felt the same and we kissed in the choir room and we were happy till the end of the year….” Johnny said, sniffling. “Then he wanted to come out as gay for graduation and wanted me to do it too but then…I got scared. I broke up with him the week before graduation and it was a really messy argument, almost got physical…after that, we stopped talking to each other, and never spoke or saw each other after that…and now he hates me…because I’m the coward who broke his heart…”
Johnny then broke down into tears, shoulders shaking as he started to sob softly, burying his face in his hands. The emotional dam he built to seal in his feelings he had towards Riley had finally broken after all of these years.
“I-It’s not like I don’t love him, After all these years, I still love him, but he hates me ! All 'cos I was afraid !”
Rosita didn’t know what to say. She stood up and hugged Johnny, Johnny leaning into her as he continued to weep.
All she could do was hug him and wait for him to let it all out.
i’m going to be completely honest here, make a disclaimer first and i will not sugarcoat it—johnny will die in this fic. it’s a one-chapter thing, haven’t been able to get it out of my head since forever, and now i’ve finally written it. posting it on tumblr as well as ao3 (archive of our own).
summary: johnny tries to risk his life to save jimmy crystal in a fire and ends up in peril on the verge of death.
this story contains major character death, rather graphic descriptions of wounds, the works (not too graphic since i’m bad at descriptions). have fun! (apologies in advance for doing this, uh…)
There were screams and that was all that they could hear.
They didn’t know much about how it had started—but their speculation was that the fire props from Johnny’s performance had gotten a bit out of hand, causing the stage to erupt into flames and sending huge crowds of people into a spiral of panic as they rushed for the doors.
The Crystal Theater was burning, burning, burning—tendrils of flame rose into the night as they challenged to swallow them whole and completely. Firefighter trucks and ambulances had already lined up in front of the building, flashing their red and blue lights and roaring their sirens.
“Is everyone all here?” Buster called out frantically as he skidded to a stop on his little feet in front of the burning building, looking around as he counted the members of his theater crew. “Johnny, Meena? Ash? Rosita?”
“We’re here, Mr. Moon!” Meena’s familiar voice broke out from amongst the panicking crowd and Buster turned to the side in relief to see Meena, Johnny, Ash, Rosita, and Gunter hurrying towards him, Johnny holding Ms. Crawly—not too far away at their heels were Johnny’s dad and uncles. Their new addition Porsha was also amongst them, and so was Johnny’s new friend Nooshy. Even Clay Calloway was with them. They all seemed out of breath, terrified, and some of them a tiny bit worse for wear, but they were fine. Unharmed.
Buster let out a sigh of relief. “You’re all safe.”
“We managed to make it out through the back door before everyone started trampling each other.” Ash blurted out, a smudge of char on her face.
“Rosita, your piglets?”
“Everyone’s here.” Rosita said, shaking but the small look of relief reflecting across her dilated pupils. “Norman and I counted them, I sent them back to a safer place.”
“So we’re all here, right?” Everyone nodded at Buster’s words, and he nodded back. “Good, good—we need to go, now, the fire department will take care of this and make sure the fire’s out—”
Johnny silently counted everyone in his head—everybody was there, alright. But there was someone missing. Someone that he hadn’t even considered adding to his count, but still there enough to acknowledge. Then it hit him.
Crystal. Jimmy Crystal.
“Mr. Crystal’s still in there!” Johnny’s words pierced through everyone like a knife, although barely heard amongst the screams and the cries and the earsplitting roaring of the flames.
“Daddy!” Porsha cried out in realization and Rosita grabbed onto her for support as she burst into sudden tears. “M-my daddy’s still in there!”
Johnny then turned to the lot of them. “You guys hurry on and get to the hotel, wherever it’s safe—I’ll be right back.” He then turned around and started towards the burning building.
Marcus grabbed his arm and held onto him with a vice grip. “What do you think you’re doin’?”
“Dad, I have to save him.” Johnny said, his voice growing more desperate by the minute. “I—”
“You listen here, I saw cracks starting to form in the main lobby on the way out just now.” Marcus growled. “That damned building is going to collapse any second soon, and I am not going to stand here acting stupid enough to let you go in there!”
“But dad—”
“He tried to kill Moon, you saw that. He tried to kill Moon and who knows what he might have been plannin’ to do with the other lot of you—to you.” Marcus’s heart thumped wildly inside his chest. “Don’t be an idiot, son.”
“Dad, I know he did the most terrible things—but me knowin’ that he’s still in there and not makin’ any attempts to try and save him would just be stoopin’ down to his level.” Johnny said, all in a rush of words but firm and clear enough to understand.
“Johnny.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to live with tha’, dad.”
“Johnny—”
“I’ll be back in just a quick second, I promise.”
“Johnny, you’re crazy.” Ash spat out, almost angrily, as she made his way up to him. “This is Jimmy Crystal we’re talking about—if anything, he deserves this for everything he’s tried to do to us.”
“Nobody deserves to die, Ash.” Johnny replied, his tone soft but firm before looking back up at his dad. “Dad, I’ll be back as soon as I go, I promise you. Just give me a chance.”
Marcus didn’t reply, and the hold he kept on his son didn’t relax.
“Dad,please.”
“…”
“Dad, he’s goin’ to die!”
“… if you’re not back in five minutes, I’m goin’ in there to find you.” Marcus growled as he let go of his grip on Johnny’s shoulder pad of his costume. “Hurry. Be careful.”
A very brief smile—a very quick and small one but a smile nonetheless—broke across his face as he took several steps back to the building, towards the flames. “Thanks for believin’ in me, dad.” And with that, before Marcus could tell him that he changed his mind or say anything else, Johnny darted back towards the building, leaving his friends crying out with distress for him in his wake. Marcus didn’t miss Buster yelling, crying out for his son for him to come back, that it was dangerous.
Marcus then realized that this had been a grave mistake.
Johnny pushed past the broken glass sliding doors and ran straight to the fire while the other continued to run past him towards the direction that he had come from. The smoke from the fire hit him almost immediately, as soon as he took his first step into the theater. It was clouding in his vision, making it hard to see anything ahead of him. His eyes began to water as the smoke began to burn his lungs. Johnny couldn’t help but choke out a few coughs before ducking lower to try and avoid the smoke as much as possible. He hid his own nose and mouth in the corner of his elbow, blinking to get rid of the useless tears.
He stumbled his way over some bigger chunks of debris and wires, supposedly fallen from the ceiling, looking for the white wolf. He clasped his hand over his mouth because his elbow wasn’t doing anything at this point, and his lungs felt like they were on fire.
“Mr. Crystal!” He called out, his voice cracking under pressure. An acrid, almost toxic smell pierced his nose. “Mr. Crystal, where are you?”
He knew he was being stupid by not moving around at a lower height, but he had noticed in seconds that it would just completely hinder his speed and movement. It would be fine as long as he just didn’t breathe in too much spoke. Another life came first.
A loud groan that resonated within the building, echoes like a monster and bouncing off the walls made Johnny nearly freeze to the floor but he forced his rigid body to move. Bits of debris rained down on him like hail and he brought his arm up over his head as he stifled a coughing fit.
Just then, he heard loud cracks above his head and something fell right at his head, cutting against his eye as it dropped—he put both hands over his right eye with a cry as his back slammed back against one of the marble pillars from his stumbling feet. Johnny pulled his shaking hands back and noticed blood on his palm. Luckily, it was only his eyelid. With a pained grunt, he gathered his senses again and set back off deeper into the building to look for Jimmy Crystal.
Flames and fire tendrils licked at the ground underneath him—the building continued to groan loudly, bits of debris and dust raining down on him wherever he went. He really couldn’t see much ahead of him anymore, although it had just been mere minutes since he had entered the theater, his vision blurred and somewhat foggy. Everything was glowing a dangerous, deadly red. Paintings on walls were burning and falling apart, giving off a pungent, acrid odor. Breathing was getting more difficult every second,
Johnny then, out of the corner of his eye, noticed a familiar flash of white—he urged his feet to move and to his relief, found Jimmy Crystal near one of the theater entrances from the lobby, struggling under a piece of debris. Crystal lifted his head to spot Johnny and waved his hand over, coughs wracking his sentence. “Well, don’t just stand there—get me out of here!”
Johnny hurried over and dropped to his knees beside the wolf, apologizing profusely for no actual reason found as he grabbed the chunk of debris and began to lift it up, groaning with effort. The intense heat thundering around him was slowly starting to make him feel sick and nauseous, making his head pound and his stomach churn. His insides felt unnaturally hot as if someone had shoved a burning rock down his throat. The flames licked at his arms and burned his fur and his skin, and Johnny coughed and sputtered.
He finally threw the cement debris off with a cry as soon as Jimmy Crystal managed to crawl out from underneath it. “Help me up.” Jimmy demanded and Johnny did so, knowing that his attitude was the least of his problems. He helped Jimmy Crystal up to his feet and began back towards the exit—the loud cracking that thundered around the building was telling him that their time was almost up.
“The exit’s right ahead, c’mon!” Johnny called out over the earsplitting noises, helping Jimmy Crystal along with his limp, trying not to breathe in as much smoke as possible. He knew he had done the right thing, and he was happy that he did—and Johnny knew that once he reached those doors, he’d get to see his dad and his uncles and his friends again, and everything would be fine.
His breaths grew shorter and his coughs got worse with every step he took through the smoke, his lungs feeling as if they were choking him, something heavy lodged in his throat. Blood flowed from above his brow over his eye, and everything ahead of him just seemed like a complete blur.
The sounds of a loud crash just above his head gave him just about enough time to look up and notice big chunk of concrete falling towards them at breakneck speed from the ceiling—Johnny’s eyes widened in terror and he just managed to shove Crystal out of the way.
But it wasn’t enough time for him to get out of the way himself.
The concrete fell right onto Johnny, crushing him, and he heard the terrible sounds of bones snapping and a searing pain shot through his lower body like a fire as he let out a scream. It exploded in his head like a blinding whiteness. The pain was like needles that had been dipped into alcohol had been jammed through his skin, like his legs had been replaced with ice and electricity wired straight into his spine.
Through his blurring vision, he noticed Jimmy Crystal slowly getting back onto his feet, and grasped onto that tiny bit of hope. He tried to get his elbows underneath him but his chin crashed back onto the rubble in vain, and a tortured groan escaped through his throat.
“Mr. Crystal—” He gasped out, clawing helplessly towards the wolf’s feet, bits of rock and cement cutting into the skin of his palms. A whimper burst out from between his lips as he begged. “P-please, help—”
The wolf stood still in his ragged, burnt suit, did nothing; it was almost as if the smoke wasn’t hurting him at all.
“Please—”
And then, Jimmy Crystal burst into a laugh, a maniac one—and the last bit of hope Johnny had been holding onto for dear left just vanished on the spot.
“Oh, kid.” Crystal shook his head as he brought his shoe down onto his outstretched hand, beginning to twist the sole of his shoe and put a lot more pressure onto it than Johnny had expected—the bones of his fingers cracked under the weight and Johnny let out a pained cry, his arm jerking in fruitless attempts to move his hand out from under it. “I can’t do that.”
“Wh-wh—”
“It’s just something I have unfinished between me and your little boss, Moon. A complete, utter nobody, I’ll make him regret every scandal he attached to my name.” Jimmy stood up straight and wiped the back of his hand against his snout, dragging a smear of striking red blood across his white fur, matted with ash and soot. He brushed the dust off of his suit. “You wouldn’t understand—it’s just business. Don’t take it personally.”
He finally removed his foot from Johnny’s hand and it instantly moved to flex it and try and rid itself of the pain—instead, burning agony shot up his arm and he had to clench his teeth not to scream. His hand shook uncontrollably.
“Just know that this? This isn’t my doing.” He gave Johnny a casual, rather sickening smile. “Blame Moon—that loser is the one who ruined everything I had.”
“Mr. Moon—” He managed to gasp out, and felt the small move of his chest briefly heaving out for breath send the feeling of a thousand knives stabbing into his body like white, searing torture. “—is m-more of a hero… th-than you’ll ever be.” His shaking hand trembled as it slowly clenched into a weak fist.
“… let’s see if you still think that once you’re dead and gone.” Crystal then turned and leaving Johnny crushed underneath the wired concrete, ran off, limping and stumbling towards the still-open exit.
Johnny had never been more terrified in his life—he whimpered as he tried to move himself out from under the crushing weight to no avail, his nails burying themselves into the rubble and dirt underneath him as he struggled—his back hurt so bad, felt like a beast clawing and tearing at his insides, as if something sharp had impaled his body.
Coughs and wheezes tore through his torso and limbs, sending stabs of agony like a searing, hot knife. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe—
He was going to die.
…
For Marcus, it was the longest five minutes of his entire life.
He kept his eyes fixed on the entrance of the theater, surrounded completely by flames at this point, his heart almost beating out of his chest. Stan was the one barely holding him back from running inside and finding his son.
His son.
“It’s been a whole five minutes and he’s not back.” Marcus blurted out—he barely heard Meena sobbing in the background, some of them brokenly calling out for Johnny, others actually trying to fight to get in there.
“H-he should have been back by now.” Buster said, the panic rising his voice to the edge. “Why isn’t he back—”
“I need to get in there, goddammit—” Nooshy cried out as Ash held her back as much as she could. “He’s going to die in there if he’s not back soon!”
The theater building dangerously groaned and more glass and debris came raining down onto the pavement, sending everyone screaming once again. Everyone had managed to evacuate at this point, all except for Johnny and Jimmy Crystal, who were both nowhere to be found.
“There! There’s Jimmy Crystal!” Someone—a tiger, he presumed—shouted and pointed at someone emerging from the flames, limping along on his two legs. Paramedics rushed to him immediately.
“… where’s Johnny?” The words left Marcus as nothing above a whisper, feeling suddenly numb and dumbfounded. If Johnny had gone in to save Crystal, but Crystal had come back out on his own without him, then—
A deafening crash interrupted his thoughts and everyone looked up to see the bottom of the building crumbling into pieces, massive cracks cascading over the marble walls with lightning speed—the cracks gave in the walls began to break, bringing the entire theater down with them as the flames erupted from the doors and windows, thundering the grounds around them. The smoke rushed towards them like a sandstorm and everyone held onto each other, eyes screwing shut as they turned their heads away from the explosion that echoed terribly like a god’s cry of anguish, the heat beating at their faces.
There was a terrible ringing and for a short second, Marcus couldn’t hear anything—but then it started to clear, little by little, and he caught sounds of sirens, shouts, cries, screams, and sobs. Animals around them were huddled about, staring at the horrendous scene ahead of them. Marcus looked too… and his heart dropped.
What used to be Crystal Theater was now a massive pile of rubble and debris, dust clouding and flames engulfing the mess that stood instead in its place.
“… Johnny. Johnny!” He inhaled sharply and near burst into a coughing fit from the sudden mass of hot air that burned his throat, which he managed to stifle. ”Johnny!”
“Everybody, stand back!” An officer was saying, trying to hold everyone away from the fallen, burning wreckage—but Marcus couldn’t care. He didn’t care about his own safety, or others, for that matter, more than he cared about his only son’s.
His only son, who was buried somewhere in all those ruins—battered, burned, bruised, wounded, or maybe even…
“My son’s in there!” He blurted out, his voice cracking as he forced himself forward, pushing past the crowd. “Get outta the way, my son’s in there!” He could feel the chill in his blood, coldness bringing the synapses of his brain to a stand still. He was almost hurting from the consistent thundering of his heart in his chest and it was becoming almost unbearable—and he knew it wasn’t something that would subside unless he found Johnny.
Thanks for believin’ in me, dad.
Those words that Johnny had said to him with the tiniest smile before disappearing into the theater.
He really had meant it, hadn’t he?
He remembered back to the days when he wanted his own son to grow up to be just like him, just like his uncles—it had been late when he realized how much of a terrible person he actually was, and how even more terrible he must have been in Johnny’s life as a father.
Marcus had tried to do everything to force him to be something that Johnny didn’t want to do, kept him shadowed from what he had the potential to do this whole time…
Albeit, Johnny had fought his way out of that shadow on his own and without Marcus’ help, had come this far to become a shining star.
Marcus should have believed in him sooner.
He watched through a blur as the fire slowly died down from the spray of hoses onto the broken, dust-settled debris, the heat dying down as Marcus approached the rubble, pushing forcefully through the crowd of animals. He noticed the rest of the Moon theater cast following behind him, right on his tail, just as desperate as he was.
The police and paramedics failed to keep them back from the rubble any longer, and the search for Johnny finally began—they all began digging within the debris, piece by piece and wire by wire, huge fragments of walls lifted and disposed of. Marcus’ hands were cut, scraped, abraised, but he couldn’t care any less.
Hours and hours of searching went by, and yet the center of the city still glowed with red and blue flashing lights, and the screams of powerful sirens. The search crew had been looking for Johnny’s body, dead or alive, for too long for comfort. The group continued to search for them, hoarse voices calling for his name, broken and throats swollen.
“Oh god, oh god, I found him, h-he’s here—” Meena’s wail alerted everyone in less than a second—Marcus had never moved so quickly from one place to another.
“Where is he? Where’s Johnny?” He barked out as he pushed past a couple of Johnny’s friends and stopped beside Buster Moon; the sight in front of him tore him to pieces.
There Johnny was, completely motionless with his eyes glazed and glassy, sprawled underneath a huge chunk of concrete of what seemed to be what once was the lobby ceiling, a mess of blood absolutely everywhere. The show makeup and the paint he had had on his face was matted and erased here and there, lines of crimson across the skin and fur in their wake—burns and charred fur covered his cheeks and the arms outstretched at the sides of his head. One of his hands seemed clearly crushed and broken, half-folded fingers bruised and bloody.
He looked dead.
He looked dead and it was terrifying.
Marcus wasted no time in grabbing the huge piece of debris, hooking his fingers onto the bottom of it as he tried his utter best not to spiral into a panic. He grunted as he lifted it—the others soon joined in without a word, the shock of seeing their friend in such a state having struck them to the core.
Without too much effort, all of them together managed to lift the piece of the ceiling off of him and Marcus threw it completely aside with a loud groan. He then immediately dropped down to his knees beside his son onto the earth, soot, and dust underneath him, coloring his community service clothes a charcoal black. A burnt odor filled his nose as both his hands hovered helplessly over Johnny’s battered, motionless body, unknown of what to do.
There had been a jagged piece of steel wire that had completely impaled Johnny’s side near his back—and now was the white jagged end of a broken bone, presumably a rib, cutting through the skin and blood having run in thick scarlet rivers over his side. The wound was sliced in the flesh of his lower stomach, heavily having oozed out blood, some of it already having crusted in his clothes and the ground beneath him. One of his legs seemed twisted into an angle that just wasn’t supposed to be. His clothes were charred and burnt. The blood stained his cheek and his costume, his hands, trailed down from the corner of his lip—red, red, red.
An invisible hand clasped over Marcus’ mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierced his heart, unloading in an instant. He felt his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. His head was a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into blackness. He wanted to run; he needed to freeze. Sounds that were near felt far away, like he was no longer in the body that sat almost paralyzed on the bloody earth.
“Johnny.”
His shaking hand finally moved to rest against, gently, on top of his son’s head, touching what was once soft, glistening fur now a matted, blood-tangled mess. He stroked his hair, thumb briefly brushing over his ear, which was also painted crimson.
“Johnny, get up. I know you’re still there somewhere.”
No response.
“Johnny…”
“… da…”
Marcus froze—Johnny’s eyes, which had been glazed over earlier, were wearily looking up towards him without any focus. Unshed tears were running down from his eyes across his cheek, which were now threatening to close with each jittered blink.
“Johnny, y-you’re alrigh’—you’re, you’re—” Marcus carefully cradled Johnny’s head in his hands, careful not to accidentally hurt him. “—thank god, I-I was startin’ to think you were—”
“Da, i-it hurts…”
“I know my boy, I know—help is comin’, the paramedics are on their way here right now, just hold on a lil’ longer—”
But it was almost as if Johnny couldn’t hear him; the little focus that had previously been there had started to fade away, the small light in his eyes starting to die.
He was fading away.
“…no, no, wait, Johnny, listen to me—” Marcus looked around at the others surrounding them for help. Nooshy, bursting into a broken, choked sob, hurried away to get to the paramedics who were busily trying to unfold a stretcher. Meena followed her suit. “Johnny, y-ya can’t do this to me, y—” He choked on his words and tears started to blur his vision as he turned his head. “Get here quicker, ya bloody fuckin’ paramedics, what the hell is takin’ you so long—”
“Marcus.” Buster’s gentle voice didn’t do anything to deter him. “Marcus—”
“Johnny, Johnny, don’t do this to me, don’t you—” Marcus swallowed the huge lump in his throat, begging, praying that whatever god was up there kept his son alive. Whatever it takes, whatever it takes. It could be him instead, just please…
Whatever it takes.
His son was dying and there was nothing he could do about it.
So without uttering another word, he gently cradled Johnny in his arms, watching as the life slowly drained out of him little by little. Watching him fade away from the world that had raised him to be the deserved star and hero he had grown up to be, and Marcus couldn’t help but hear that inner voice, screaming at him continuously, incessantly—
—that it should have been him.
“… da, I…”
“I’m here, Johnny boy.”
His chest painfully moved as he struggled to get the words out, straining with his breath every small inhale. Marcus waited, his heart being torn apart knowing the sound of what he knew to be Johnny’s last breaths more agonizing than any torture he’d ever been through.
“… ‘m sorry.”
And before Marcus could tell him that it was alright, that he forgave him, that there was nothing to be sorry for and that he had no fault and if there was anyone to blame it was his own self… the final exhale, the final breath left Johnny’s lips and his head slightly lolled to the side as his eyes completely glazed over, his body growing limp in Marcus’ arms.
A terrible chill ran up his spine and he felt numb, like someone had trapped him in a lake of ice. “… Johnny? Johnny.” Marcus slightly shook the boy in his arms.
“Marcus…” Buster’s voice said meekly from behind him, broken and sounding as if he were about to choke any second.
“Johnny, get up. Get up, Johnny.” He tried shaking his son one more time to no avail. “Johnny, Johnny—”
And then Marcus cradled his son’s dead body in his arms and sobbed, crying like he never had before, crying in a way he would have never dared to have done in front of Johnny for years, screams of bloody murder and anguish and grief and the rage and the sadness that was ripping his heart apart into shreds, tearing at his insides.
One last time, those brown eyes—his mother’s eyes—had opened. And one last time, Johnny spoke.
nooshy wants him drunk quicker so that she can take pictures and record videos of his drunk shenanigans. she uses them for bribery or to make fun of him after he’s sober.
might get a little angsty here, had these bottled up in my head for a while (can’t think of anything for nooshy, but i will think about it!).
johnny:
- johnny hates crying in front of others, hates it more than anything. despises it and will bite down on his tongue or dig his nails into his hand to hold it in (sometimes it’s enough to draw blood).
- he appreciates the comfort his friends try to offer him at that very moment, but he hates looking so vulnerable when he’s supposed to be the strong one looking out for his best friends.
- whenever he feels like he can’t take it he quietly excuses himself to the bathroom.
- he completely lets himself go when he’s locked himself inside and his shoulders just lurch as he sobs over the sink.
- of course the rest can hear him and they all silently agree on the fact that he needs comfort.
- but they all know trying to bombard him at once at the beginning will just overwhelm him and make him say “he’s fine”.
- obviously, none of them are going to take that as an answer.
- so one of them (usually it’s ash or nooshy) visits his room with a cup of english breakfast tea (+ honey) once he’s calmed down.
- they usually find him practicing a piano piece he has to play for their show, continuously messing up on notes.
- johnny would try to greet whoever it is with a cheerful voice—sometimes they can notice that he’s still upset, sometimes they just can’t tell because he’s so good at hiding it.
- he gives many attempts to try and change the subject when they try to get it out of him, but eventually they manage to verbally back him into a corner.
- johnny doesn’t say anything for a while and slightly starts to pace, then gives in and blurts out how he’s trying, he’s trying so hard to be perfect, to be the most he can, trying so, so hard to be strong, because he needs to be the strong one for the rest of them.
- but it’s just really difficult, and sometimes he can just feel the pressure getting to him and he’s just so tired and it makes it hard for him to breathesometimes.
- but the thought of becoming a burden just stresses him out way too much, so even though he wants to talk to an adult or a friend about it his mind and body just won’t let him do so, and it just feels like it’s building up inside his chest—suffocatinghim.
- his hands start to shake a bit and he starts to talk faster, rambling on and on as he picks up pace like he does when he grows anxious or nervous.
- “i-i feel like i should be able to do it, y’know? b-but then i try to do it, and there’s just so many other things that stay on my mind and it’s… it’s like it’s messin’ with my head. am i really not enough? i never know what i’m supposed to do to fix it all, and i just feel so… so useless.”
- johnny then stops and quietly admits that sometimes he just feels patheticandweak, and that’s when they give him a nice, warm hug, although it does take him a while to actually sink into it.
-“johnny,‘pathetic’and‘weak’ would be the last words anyone would use to describe you. it’s okay to tell us you’re feeling stressed out sometimes, all we want to do is help you. please don’t try to hide anything like that from us, it’s important we know you’re having a hard time. you’re never a burden… you’re our hope, o-our family… you’re our best friend. we love you.”
- eventually the others would join in and it just all ends in one huge cuddle/hug sesh until porsha cheerfully offers that they all watch his favorite movie to cheer him up.
- they all eventually end up tangled up in a mess of blankets and cushions on the couch asleep altogether, halfway through the movie.
ash:
- she hasn’t been able to get rid of her “stupid” trust issues after her boyfriend of five years, lance, ditched her for some random bitch named becky.
- ever since she never really let herself get too close to anyone else beside her new stage crew family.
- ash has always been scared of stepping out of her comfort zone, especially when it means getting deeply involved with other animals.
- but for some reason she holds onto the old electric guitar lance had gotten for her for their second-year anniversary, although she has more than enough money to buy a better and newer one.
- and oh god, she feels pathetic like a stupid teenager hanging onto her stupid ex and she can’t help but feel like she’s being a complete idiot over it.
- so ash has, more than five times, tried to throw her guitar away, case and all, reassuring herself that she can just buy a better one—one that wasn’t given to her by some low-life cheating bastard.
- but whenever she tries her hands start shaking as she grips onto the case, and her teeth clenches and she just can’t let go of it and it drives her insane.
- she finds herself thinking if she was that bad enough of a girlfriend for lance to go find becky, and she gets angry and she has to clench her teeth not to start bawling.
- she returns back to their condo and tosses the guitar case aside into the living room, disappearing into her own without a word, letting everyone there realize almost immediately what she was going through.
- they know that she needs time for herself for at least thirty minutes before one of them talk to her so during that time, meena goes out to the nearest café and buys a piece of chocolate cake with bubble tea or hot chocolate.
- after those thirty minutes, one of them (preferably johnny) goes inside with her guitar and finds ash walking busily around the room aggressively cleaning everything up, loudly blasting music from her phone.
- it takes her a while and some soothing words to get her to calm down and bring her down from her “worked-up”state, and when she does she sits down on her bed, staring down at the red guitar case covered top-to-bottom with stickers.
- “i feel so stupid.” she says, fists clenched on her lap. “he was such an idiot, and i know he doesn’t deserve what i offer him… but why am i holding onto this? what am i doing wrong? i thought i moved on, and i know i have, but… something must be, just, really wrong with me. maybe… maybe i’m just not strong enough to erase him from my mind.”
- “you’re not, stupid, ash, don’t say that. and there is nothing wrong with you, i promise. sometimes… we just have a hard time thinking what we want and we wonder what’s right. no, you can’t forget him—the more you try to forget him, the more your mind will take you towards him. the best you can do—the best we can do—is create another chapter of your life. a fresh one, see? things were bad back then… but now, you have us, don’t you? we can write a fresh new page together, create better memories over the worse ones.”
- “you’re one of the strongest animals i know, ash. believe me. it’s going to be a tough journey, but you’re not alone.”
- then ash leans into them and they wrap her into a side-hug. they find ash wearily eyeing the guitar case again.
- “keep the guitar—it doesn’t have to mean that it’s something you can’t let go of. it’s just part of who you are, and the music you make from that guitar is what shapes you. think it that way, alright?”
- then they carefully hand ash her drink and her slice of chocolate cake.
- “ugh, you guys know me so well.”
porsha:
- porsha doesn’t really go visit her dad in jail, she tries to avoid doing it if she can.
- he’s never really been the best dad in the world, and he had done so many wrongs… but then again, he’s her dad. he used to be all she had.
- so from time to time, porsha does try to go talk to her dad to check on him—the last thing she would want was for him to fall ill or into some sort of state of depression.
- but he never comes talk to her, refuses to talk to her, but she decides to hold on and sits there for about an hour, hope dwindling every passing minute.
- eventually she comes back to their condo, not really hiding the fact that she’s crying or having a breakdown, her make-up completely smudged across her fur.
- before anyone can get up and ask her what’s wrong, she locks herself in the bathroom and doesn’t come out for sometimes hours.
- they knock on the door gently and ask her if she’s okay, but all she can manage at that point is just brokenly tell them to leave her alone because she can’t use her voice at the moment.
- she does unlock the door at some point but leaves it closed—whenever she cried as a kit she’d usually wait for her dad to come and maybe give her a hug, but it never really happened.
- she’s not used to asking for anyone’s comfort or consolation and is honestly embarrassed to show how sorryandpitiful she looks, so different from her “happy”facade.
- but porsha knows she could use some comfort and stays in the same spot waiting for it—usually her friends all hear the door unlock and it’s not long until someone comes in to check on her.
- “i-i think my daddy hates me.” she chokes out, and she slightly bites down on her fist. “i know he’s bad, alright? i know he’s not a good person… but he’s my daddy. h-he’s supposed to love me, right? then why won’t he talk to me?”
- “listen.” they say as they take her hand, helping her to her feet. “your dad, well, he… he did bad things, i know. and he’s always had his priorities in the wrong place. his reputation came first before anything, and i can’t imagine what it would have been like growing underneath such a shadow.”
- “but just because he did have priorities in the wrong place, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. he does love you, i’m sure of it… he’s just blind of who you are, he’s not considerate enough to appreciate you, because you’re such a wonderful, amazing person to be with. he just can’t see that.”
- “i know everything hurts because you feel like he doesn’t want anything to do with you. but he might, and i really really hope he does, that he’ll be able to get to see what’s important. until then, you have us—we appreciate you, and we’re all happy to be able to call you our best friend. we’ll get through this together, alright?”
- porsha feels better at these little pep talks and asks what she ever did to deserve such “awesome bffs”, they have a little laugh about it, have a group hug, before they decide to give time for porsha to clean up or redo her make-up so that they can go have ice cream at the city square.
( + might add one for nooshy if i can think of something!)
…The latter part of their set quickly was coming to an end and Ash had no idea how or why she decided she was comfortable enough with him to humor Johnny with his piano prowess she didn’t know existed until he touched the ivory keys. But here she was, nearing the end of their performance, sitting atop the piano and strumming her guitar while Johnny playing along as they shared the microphone between them.
All too soon it seemed, their latest song ended. The last note giving way to the excited audience and their claps and cheers drowning out the abrupt lack of music.
Ash flashed Johnny a quick smile from atop that piano, ready to climb down and finish the last song of their set when Johnny suddenly leaned forward…
In that split second, Ash wondered what he was doing with his handsome face quickly nearing her own. She wondered if he was going to kiss her and she knew right then that even if they were still basically strangers, that she would let him but he pushed past her. His cheek brushing her own and she held back a shiver when his soft gray skin brushed her thin fur and his hot breath skirted over her ear and spines. Something akin to disappointment swirled in her chest but she ignored it when he suddenly spoke in a hushed whisper.
Taken from the latest chapter of my Sing AU fict, the Rocket and the Mechanic.
OMG, I FINALLY wrote something that wasn’t some lazy ramble lol. It’s been too damn long since I actually completed a chapter for an existing story. Ugh. Sorry about the wait but hopefully this will continue to push me to finish the other stories hanging over my head. ;-p
I need to thank @sing-2021 for this idea; and the little dialogue post that inspired this whole thing. XD Johnny:you’re so cute and precious!
Ash: I AM NOT CUTE. I AM DARK, MYSTERIOUS AND VERY DANGEROUS!
Johnny:How cute.
Of course, I took some artistic license and changed it up a bit so hope you don’t mind. ;-p
Johnny and Ash have such an adorable dynamic – Ash all tiny, sassy and feisty while Johnny just thinks she’s the cutest thing ever and she both loathes and loves that about him. I see this as being one of many similar conversations they have so I just had to make this. Johnny would always be complimenting her and Ash always fights back but her outbursts just make her all the more endearing in Johnny’s eyes. <3
“Before I even knew her name, la-la-la It felt like ooh-la-la-la, yeah, no Sapphire and moonlight, we danced for hours in the sand Tequila sunrise, her body fit right in my hands, la-la-la It felt like ooh-la-la-la, yeah
I love it when you call me señorita I wish I could pretend I didn’t need ya But every touch is ooh-la-la-la It’s true, la-la-la Ooh, I should be runnin’ Ooh, you know I love it when you call me señorita
I wish it wasn’t so damn hard to leave ya But every touch is ooh-la-la-la It’s true, la-la-la Ooh, I should be runnin’ Ooh, you keep me coming for ya…”
This fucking song by the totally human version of Jash incarnate, Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello premiered yesterday and OMG, the video was TOO intense, y’all. T_T
The video itself is sad as fuck with the ending they give but I still can’t stop watching it and the inspiration it gave me, y’all! I’m submitting more in a separate post (mainly human AU Jash) since the other pictures sorta suck compared to this one I actually attempted to make decent. XD
Thought this totally would be a song Johnny x Ash would do together. XD The saucy MV and everything lol.
Those two are just beautiful people and such a wonderful song; so sensual and sweet and I couldn’t help but be inspired by it, ;3
Gawd, their size difference is everything….and dayum, his muscle definition…. T_T
Oh, and in the video, Shawn rides a motorcycle which just had me freaking out and now hoping Johnny rides a motorcycle in the next Sing movie. XD Here’s to hoping lol.
“Ugh. I’m tired. Carry me.” it was more of a demand than a question. And given it was the tiny porcupine dragging her feet with every step who said it, Johnny knew he better agree or else face her lack-of-suitable-caffeine wrath she complained about earlier.
Stopping immediately in his tracks, Johnny kneeled next to Ash. “Sure,” he accepted the demand from his friend without nary a complaint much to the exhausted porcupine’s surprise.
“…What? Seriously? I was just joking…well, partly anyway,” Ash chuckled, the low, sleepy sound causing a lump to form in the gorilla’s throat as she stared up at him with those heavily-lidded crystal blue eyes.
Swallowing thickly and hoping his face didn’t look as hot as it felt, he smiled and offered the security of his arms anyway. “It’s no trouble. C’mon, it has been a long day.”
A dozen different emotions flashed across Ash’s face before she finally settled on tired acceptance.
Without saying a word, Ash walked into Johnny’s inviting (not to mention cozy as fuck looking) arms. Once in the cusp of his elbows, Johnny scooped her up and she fought back a squeak at the loss of gravity as the statuesque gorilla cradled her before standing to his full height.
Almost immediately, Johnny continued the last mile until they reached her apartment where he’d been staying with her lately. During the first block, Ash was inwardly cursing Johnny’s truck for breaking down yesterday and Moon for his late rehearsal and making the bus impossible to take for this circumstance both found themselves in. But as the journey continued in Johnny’s arms, the plush sensation of his thick fur and the incredible musculature underneath made her forgive and forget both of them fairly quickly.
“Is that better?” Johnny asked with a throaty chuckle that made her spines prickle pleasant along the back of her neck. Damn his thickly accented voice for always having that effect on her…
Ash replied something intelligible in response. The sleepy declaration muttered into his as she weakly fought off inevitable slumber in Johnny’s ridiculously comfortable arms.
Might as well take advantage of it, was her only thought as she curled further into his chest and her forehead rubbed tenderly across his furry cheek in feigned sleep.
Johnny smiled down at the sleepy porcupine; his heart pounding against his sternum as his steps continued silently down the deserted street.
…..
Meh. I tried. I really need to get back into writing again, I think I’m forgetting how to do it. XD
While I adore their animal forms, I found myself drawing them as my human versions – my gawd, their size difference is literally everything! *___*
I also have this High School AU for these two, which is the first two pictures. Johnny, the handsome, kind, popular jock, probably 16 in the picture, and Ash, same age and her same rebellious rocker self and them going through school together and finding common ground in music.
I can see them becoming close, if not best friends before finding themselves hopelessly in love with each other in their early 20′s (Ash being stubborn and Johnny, dense as all hell). Of course, Ash is still crazy tiny even full grown haha. Johnny has always been a towering hunk regardless of universe. ;3
Anyhoo, just wanted to share some more love to my neglected Sing peeps. Here’s to hoping I finally get some motivation to get back into continuing writing my unfinished fanfictions eventually. ;p
