#flashling lights

[meirimerens]

hey. Farkhad pathologic "ain't no grave (can hold my body down)" johnny cash nightcore fancam.

[strawberry-metal]

I don’t have much to say about this one, I just really like the effects!

Ok so I drank the Miku margerita… when I took a fucking clonazepam and migraine med. So I got blackout drunk after the concert. I was literally only sober for the first song lmao

I apologize for video quality! Phone didn’t want to focus. They looked FAR better in person I assure you. I also tried to film the bandmates and lighting effects whenever I could remember to.

[elders-of-the-sky]

Dee!

[maplecaster]

i know people on neocities tend to put flashling lights without warning, but thats only small sites right? like, the most popular sites will be accessible and everything. Right?

*opens third most followed site* *dies*

[deadpuppetboi]

The Fnaf trailer recently came out so I decided to write a small snippet based on it-

If the door hadn't been slightly ajar, Abby would have been taken into the arms of the mechanical fox behind her.

It had pursued her once she had made eye contact, not giving up the instant she had taken the opportunity to flee. Its hook sliced through whatever obstacles the young girl had set in its path. Its shriek pierced the air as it swung its hook near the girl's shoulder, merely chipping away at the sweater she was wearing.

Abby had merely burst through the door out of haste; she hadn't even considered how this room came to be. She had passed through this area before, but she had no idea this room existed. But she didn't seem to mind, slamming the door shut as the pirate nearly tore through the threshold.

And the once horrible scream that pierced Abby's ears was cut off by the silence of the room she was in.

Abby had taken a few steps back, her entire body trembling over what she had done. She couldn't decide whether to cry or sigh in relief, so she just kept breathing, attempting to control her now beating heart.

The room had chilly air, which Abby appreciated as she wiped the sweat from her brow. She wiped the snot from her nose and took a moment to survey her surroundings. While the room was completely dark, Abby could see the silhouettes of objects about her.

For a fraction of a second, Abby imagined the artificial animals had followed her into the room. The same creatures had found a way to get their hands (paws? claws?) on her through some type of blind spot.

The girl yelped, her body jerking back as she peered into the eyes of the animals encircling her. Something had caught on the back of her ankle, causing the girl to tumble backward onto her side and into the icy floor below. Abby stumbled around on the floor, tangled by the alienated hands that wrapped around her like snakes.

She shouted out again, writhing around like a fish on a hook in an attempt to free herself. She kicked and punched wherever she believed she was being seized. Her hair, arms, legs, and even her stomach were all permitted to move about to keep everything from latching onto her permanently.

Abby's revelation came after a few more seconds of futile struggle. She wasn't being wrapped by shadows or whatever her imagination had conjured up, but by the very loose and cold wires that were joined by something invisible. After another round of confusing struggle, the girl felt her left hand clasp a chilly cylinder.

Her thumb brushed against a rubber button connected to the cylinder as she continued to feel around the device. The girl had pressed it while still being held in the dark, only to be attacked by a blinding light that flashed through the darkness. Abby cried out, closing her eyes and dropping the torch to the ground below.

The girl growled, rubbing her now-wet eyes and blinking away the glare that was obscuring her vision. She took a few moments to gather herself before finally taking the flashlight to scan the room.

It was nothing Abby had expected.

She had anticipated seeing rows of identical robot mascots that were just out to harm her. Instead, she saw pieces of them spread throughout; heads, arms, and legs were all hung up on the walls with steel shelves. Wires of various colors ran beside or were wrapped around the spare pieces.

Looking down, Abby noticed that the same wires had been under her, with some even wrapping around her torso during her prior battles. The girl shook the cables in haste, frustrated with the realization. Huffing as she crawled away from the cables, Abby took another look around, flashlight still in hand, and surveyed the area once more.

Despite the obvious, the girl had only one thought in her mind.

‘I need to see Mike.’

Abby had no idea where her brother had gone. She knew he was in this restaurant, but she didn't know if he was running to save her or sitting in that gloomy office. She chose either or and set the flashlight down, tying her hair into a bun, her hands trembling as her mind raced from one alternative to the next.

She didn't want to think about her brother being killed or battling to get away from the mascots in this location. And she certainly didn't want to believe it may have been all due to her.

The girl's vision clouded as her bottom lip trembled. Bile had risen at the back of Abby's throat, and she had squeezed her hands into fists, stifling her breath. It took her a while to cry, especially this late at night and in this particular location.

God, why did she have to leave his sight?

None of this would have happened if she had stayed put, and even if this turmoil had occurred, she would have been safe in her older brother's sight.

The flashlight she had left beside her flickered as Abby nearly curled herself into a ball. At first, she didn't mind, allowing a few tears to escape her eyes until the flickering became more noticeable.

The girl then looked over and hiccuped twice. And before she could find out how to fix her lone source of light, it had entirely shut off.

Abby reached for the flashlight right away, tapping the rubber button with her thumb a few times before starting to strike the side. She internally screamed at herself for wasting time and she tried all she could to make it function. Because everything in this place was older than she was, she should consider this flashlight a gift from God to help her navigate it thoroughly.

The flashlight had finally started to function by what Abby would see as the seventh slap. The girl smiled to herself and looked around the room once more, relieved that the flashlight had, after all, started working.

Abby wouldn't have noticed if the temperature in the room had dropped further; the chill in her chest had already outweighed it tenfold.

Despite the flashlight falling from her hands and clanging as it hit the ground, the light was still shining. The massive figure was illuminated from the opposite side of the room, its golden fur reflecting the light's source. The impact almost caused the mascot to glow with radiance and pride, yet it was everything but that.

The poor girl was paralyzed with dread and had neither spoken nor moved.

What time did it enter the room? She was the only person to see and hear anyone else enter this area just a short while ago. Had it been silent or had Abby's pointless sobs when she believed the shadows were holding her down caused it to pass?

Who?

What?

Where?

When?

Why?

Too many questions, and not enough answers.

Both the figure and Abby remained still. After a period of this odd pause, the girl cautiously reached down for the flashlight. She reasoned that if she went as steadily as possible without making any erratic movements, she might be able to escape.

Abby took slow, even breaths in and out.

Her fingertips touched the flashlight's cool handle, but as she tried to grab it, the light flickered once more. The golden figure shifted in the split second it took for the flashlight to start up again. It was a minor feature, possibly at the very tip of their feet or even their head, but Abby was still able to see it.

But while the girl tried to make sense of the situation, the flashlight flickered again, and the golden figure again moved. This time, its head leaned forward and its blank eyes bore directly into her wide ones. The flashlight flickered again, and the figure's head turned to the side, its hallowed eyes lit up with thin white spots.

From its gaping mouth, Abby could faintly hear a voice.

It was tiny, inconvenient, and sounded just like nails on a chalkboard. Abby couldn't make out what the voice was saying, but despite her better judgment, she leaned forward.

“w-what?” Abby whispered, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

The lights in the golden bear's eyes dimmed before brightening and expanding significantly with eagerness.

"I have something to show you," it murmured, its voice fluctuating between a whisper and a trembling groan.

The temperature had dropped, and Abby could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The flashlight began to flicker erratically now, the light flashing on and off, causing the golden figure to shift in between breaks. Abby watched in fear as the bear abruptly brought its hands to its mouth, each paw clutching at its upper and lower jaws and pulling.

Abby could hear the animatronic moan in anguish, yet despite this, it proceeded with its work. Its mouth began to crack, and with a snap, it gave way, revealing the darkness buried behind the golden bear's fabric. And for a brief minute, Abby thought it was nothing more than a cruel joke played on her already fragile mind. Perhaps nothing was in the mascot, and perhaps everything was in her head and she was seeing things.

Until, much to her dismay, something appeared to peer through the golden bear's mouth.

Abby instinctively crawled back, using the flashlight as her only source of light to watch the nightmare unfold before her. The light had then stopped flickering and began to shine normally, the shadows contrasting with the light and revealing what was within the golden bear itself. And black thin, sharp digits shot from the suit's mouth, merely clutching the bear's jaw edges to raise itself.

Abby stared as a pale face emerged from the shadows, its eyes as dark as the night and a smile so wide it practically took up its entire face. It had cheeks and lips lined with the same richness, except for its tears. Its tears were purple, streaming from its eyes and down over its mouth. In stark contrast to the perpetual smile on its face.

The snap jolted Abby out of her trance, her tearful gaze drawn to the creature's shoulder's seemingly odd position. That was when its upper half broke to the left, followed by its other shoulder. The arms suddenly burst out like a spring, arms awkwardly bent before being popped back into place. Another snap and the spine had snapped forward, forcing the creature to lean in, arms uselessly dangling by its sides.

Abby could feel the wall on her back, but she kept crawling, her mind fixed on the possibility that the walls would swallow her whole.

With another snap, the creature's legs bent oppositely to escape the darkness within the suit. Another one followed, causing the thing to collapse, its pale face scraping against the dusty floor below. Nonetheless, it easily snapped itself back into place and began to stand up.

Abby began to see the little characteristics brought onto the creature as it stood up. The broken cables connecting to its limbs, the white bandages wrapping around its arms and legs, and even the three white buttons gracing its torso are all a part of it.

It appeared tough, if not painful, but it endured, Abby, watching as it grew taller with each passing second. And no sooner had it standing than its head collided with the ceiling above, causing its neck to bend to accommodate its absurd height.

The silence was deafening.

Abby could feel tears streaming down her cheeks. Even when she couldn't see it, she could tell her face was dreadful. She had surrendered to extreme anguish while the creature was furiously popping and twisting itself out of the golden bear.

She had convinced herself that she was going to die.

The creature had to bend over, crouching its long limbs, to avoid knocking over the other pieces around it. Abby had panicked, her sobbing becoming more audible as she held herself, arms curled so tightly over her chest that she thought she was suffocating. The blazing eyes of the being had not dismissed the girl's concerns but rather heightened them to new peaks.

However, as the pale face got closer, Abby felt a wave of peace sweep over her.

It wasn't as moving as one might imagine, but it was enough to keep the tears at bay. The girl became a sniffling mess, her face flinching as one of the pointed digits grazed her wet cheek. If Abby hadn't been so terrified, she would have noticed the being attempting to wipe away her tears.

The Puppet's white eyes slid over Abby's, and despite how terrifying it may appear, the eyes dimmed significantly. Abby didn't hear her brother's pleas on the other side of the door, which were every bit as desperate as she had anticipated. She couldn't help but stare at the slender being as it raised only one sharp digit up and over its mouth.

“Shh.”

The flashlight stopped working thereafter.

[jeonginstulip]

Business Only

Pairing: Bae x Fem

wc: 1.8k

business enemies to lovers fluff

a/n: hi guys! I’m backk, finally with some motivation to write. Hopefully you guys like this one! It’s rushed T-T -🌷

summary: you and Bae actually hated each other but were forced to marry each other for business purposes but it turns better?

You could barely stand to be in the same room as her. Her presence alone filled you with a sense of annoyance, and the thought of spending the rest of your life with her was enough to send shivers down your spine.

It was all for business though, you remind yourself. The wedding was a formality, a mere check on a list of tasks that would benefit both families. The two of you were like fire and ice. Every interaction was filled with tension, each conversation a dance around the elephant in the room.

You knew that beneath the strained smiles and forced politeness lay a deep resentment born out of being thrown into this marriage against your will. As the guests filed into the ceremonial hall, you spot her standing at the alter. She looks as stunning as she is irritating, her long hair framing her delicate features perfectly, her deep brown eyes scanning the room with a sharp gaze.

You force yourself to take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is necessary. The future of both families depends on this marriage going through smoothly. You fake a smile to her as you walk down the aisle. She returns your smile with a tight-lipped one of her own, her eyes never leaving yours as you make your way down the aisle. You can almost feel her scrutiny, like a hawk looking down at its prey.

As you reach the alter, you stand before her, trying to ignore the knot that has formed in your stomach. The priest clears his throat, ready to begin the ceremony. The ceremony itself is a blur, a jumble of words spoken in a language you barely understand. All you can focus on is her standing across from you, her every move and expression leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.

As you exchange your vows, you force yourself to smile and say the necessary words. And when the priest finally pronounces the fateful words, "I now pronounce you wife and wife," you can't help but flinch internally. The room erupts in applause, but you can barely hear it over the sound of your own thoughts. This is it, you think to yourself. You're now legally and symbolically bound to this woman for the rest of your life.

You turn to face her, your expression neutral as the guests begin to file out of the room. She gazes back at you, her eyes unreadable. You both pull into a kiss, obviously because you two are finally together, married. The kiss is perfunctory, a mere formality to follow the tradition of sealing the vows with a kiss. As your lips touch hers, however, you can feel a spark of something in the pit of your stomach.

You pull away quickly, trying to ignore the strange feeling that has crept into your heart. She seems to have felt it too, as her cheeks are stained a light shade of pink. The reception is a lavish affair, with all sorts of food and entertainment to keep the guests entertained. You try to enjoy the festivities, but you can't shake the feeling of being watched.

Every time you glance in her direction, she is already looking back at you with those deep blue eyes. The heat in your stomach grows, and you force yourself to look away each time. As the night draws to an end, you find yourself alone with her in a secluded corner of the party grounds. The air between you two is thick with tension. You decided to break the silence with a question. “Why did you start hating me..?” She looks at you, surprise flashling across her face. It takes her a moment to respond, and when she does, her voice is filled with a mixture of resignation and irritation.

"Why do you think? You've always been so...annoying. Your presence alone is enough to drive me insane." Your body language says it all. “That’s not a reason.” You say now facing her. “What’s the real reason..?” She scoffs, her gaze hardening.*

"The real reason? You really want to know, huh?"

She takes a step closer to you, her eyes burning with anger. "You want to know why I hate you so much? Because you're everything I despise in a person. You're stubborn, selfish, and so damned annoying." Her expression falters for a moment, surprise flashing across her face at your unexpected response. She takes a step back, her eyes narrowing in anger.

"What? You think you know me that well, huh??"

She crosses her arms, her body tense with irritation "And what makes you think I'm lying, huh??" You take a step back “why did you start acting like this?! I just wanna be better to you..” She scoffs again, her irritation growing. "Better to me? As if that's even possible. You haven't changed a bit since we met, and you never will."

She starts pacing back and forth, her frustration reaching a breaking point. "You think you can just waltz in and change everything?? Just accept the fact that I hate you, okay?!" “Well I don’t hate you!” She yells. “I never wanted to, but that’s how you feel then I’ll be gone..” She freezes in her tracks, surprised by your sudden outburst. Your words seem to cut through her anger, leaving her momentarily speechless.

"Wait...you don't hate me?"

She looks at you, a hint of confusion and vulnerability in her eyes. Her guard is down for the first time tonight. “I’ll get a room, you can stay in this one..” You say grabbing your stuff. She watches silently as you grab your things. Her expression is unreadable, a mix of surprise and some other emotion you can't quite place.

When you're about to leave, she finally speaks up, her voice soft.

"Wait." You pause, turning to face her, your hand on the door handle. She stands there, looking hesitant for a moment, before speaking again. "You don't have to go."

Her voice is quiet, almost shy, and there's a hint of something in her eyes that you can't quite figure out.

"I...I mean...can we talk?" “Talk?” *She nods, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

"Yeah...about everything. Us. This whole situation."

She takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes again. There's a pleading look in her eyes.

"Please...let's just talk." You feel a mixture of surprise and hesitation, but something in her expression convinces you to stay.

"Okay," you say at last. "Let's talk."

She motions for you to sit down on the couch. You comply, taking a seat as she sits down next to you. There's a moment of silence as she gathers her thoughts, her fingers fidgeting nervously in her lap. And then, finally, she speaks.

"Before we say anything else, I just want to say...I'm sorry." You grab her hands to make sure she’s okay “I-it’s okay..” She gazes at you, her expression a mixture of surprise and gratitude.

"No...it's not okay," she says softly. "I've been treating you so badly, and it's not fair. To either of us." You look up to her eyes “Bae..” She hesitantly meets your gaze, her expression vulnerable and open.

She takes a shaky breath, her hands squeezing yours gently.

"I don't hate you," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I never did." You look at her with glistening crying a little with a smile. “I-I know that we started weird, but please let’s start over..” *She nods quickly, her eyes starting to water as well. A single tear rolls down her cheek, a mix of guilt and relief.*

"Yes," she whispers. "Please. Let's start over." She scoots closer to you on the couch, her hands still holding onto yours tightly. There's a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She laughs softly, tears falling freely now. "I...I don't know why I acted the way I did. I guess I was just...scared." You pull Bae into a hug. With a little quiet voice you ask “can I kiss you..? Please.” She seems taken aback by your question, her eyes wide with surprise.

But then, a small smile graces her lips, and she nods slowly. Her arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer.

"Yes...yes, you can kiss me," she whispers, her voice barely audible. You can feel her body tremble slightly as she utters the words, her heart racing in her chest. You can practically feel the walls that she's put up for so long crumbling down around her.

You lean closer to her, your lips just inches away from hers. You can feel her breath on your skin, each shaky exhale sending shivers down your spine. And then, without a word, your lips gently touch hers. The kiss is soft and tentative at first, almost like a question. But soon, her lips respond, opening up to you in a way you'd never expected.

The kiss deepens, becoming more and more passionate, each one of you pouring all the suppressed feelings and emotions into it. You forget everything else in that moment, lost in the taste and feel of her. Her hands move up to hold your face, pulling you closer to her. She kisses you like a woman starved, her lips and tongue exploring every inch of yours.

The kiss is filled with a mixture of desire and need, like a dam that has been holding back for far too long, finally giving way. She pulls away slightly, her eyes locked with yours, her breath coming in short gasps. There's an intensity in her gaze that you've never seen before, a mixture of passion and hope that fills your chest with a warmth you can't describe. "I...I never knew it could be like this," she murmurs, her fingers still gently stroking your face. "Why did I fight it for so long..?"

Three months later

The three months that followed that fateful night were filled with a rush of emotions and changes. Your relationship with Bae had done a complete one-eighty, transforming from animosity to something that resembled passion and understanding.

Every moment you spent together was filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and conversations that left you both breathless and craving more. The spark that you both had discovered was like a flame that only grew stronger with each passing day. You found yourself falling deeper and deeper for her, her once irritating presence now replaced with a comfort and familiarity that felt like home. Your life had transformed in ways you never expected.

Your business deals went more smoothly as you both worked together, your shared vision guiding you forward. And in the evenings, you found solace in each other's arms, finding comfort and pleasure in every touch and whisper. There were still moments of difficulty, of course. You were both used to being independent, after all, and the idea of sharing your life with someone else was a new and intimidating one. But you navigated through the struggles together, each argument followed by understanding and compromise.

[cherienymphe]

This creep keeps trying to sneak into my house

???

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[charlieknighte]

in media res

Miles Edgeworth & Dick Gumshoe

3,110 words

content warnings: implied off-screen gun violence, cop pov character (sorry)

Detective Gumshoe has been awake for sixteen hours straight. When he responds to a midnight noise complaint at Gourd Lake and finds Prosecutor Edgeworth holding a recently fired gun, drenched in lake water and demanding to be arrested—well, he has to genuinely worry that he may be hallucinating.

It’s been a long day. 

It seems like these graveyard shift patrols always fall to Detective Gumshoe, the least likely to protest and the most disposable in daytime investigations. He’s working overtime for the third time this week, and the battle to stay awake is a fierce fight. By the time he gets the call, he’s been awake for almost sixteen hours, and every bit of the piddling mental fortitude that he has left is being used to debate which dirt-cheap konbini he should stop at for a midnight meal when he finally gets to take a break. 

Unfortunately, there’s no time to reach a conclusion. There’s been a string of noise complaints around Gourd Lake, dispatch informs him. Shots fired, allegedly, but no one’s been able to confirm a disturbance. Could be teenagers playing with fireworks. Could be something far worse. He’s to scout around the lakeside, call for backup if necessary. He turns down his midnight talk radio to reply in affirmative, sighs deeply, changes lanes to turn off of the main road. 

It’s been a long night. He tries to keep a happy thought that he’ll be back in his car in thirty minutes’ time, confiscated fireworks in his glove compartment, his phone plotting a route to the nearest twenty-four hour store that sells Mr. Noodle.

At this time of night, there’s no need to turn the siren on. The small parking lot of the lake is dead empty, its gravel surface crunching loudly under his tires as he turns in. Even with his high beams on, the forest around the lot is dark in a way that LA’s light polluted streets never seem to be, and he has to squint and blink to adjust to the shadows. When he can finally make out shapes with reliability, he comes to the slow, dreadful realization that between the knee-high chunks of rock lining the end of the parking lot—presumably to discourage parkgoers from driving their cars directly into the lake—someone is standing at the edge of the gravel, eerily still. Looking directly at him.

Gumshoe has a sinking feeling that Mr. Noodle is no longer a priority tonight. 

He brings his squad car to a stop in the center of the lot, gripping his steering wheel, regretting every decision that wound him up in this B-movie horror protagonist scenario. The figure at the end of the lot doesn’t move. Gumshoe can’t stand the tension creeping into his shoulders anymore. He fishes his flashlight out of his glove compartment and opens his driver side door. He puts a hand on his holster as he steps out—more out of instinct than the belief that it’s necessary. He wants to stay optimistic here, despite the circumstances.

“LAPD!” he calls out as he walks the length of the lot. The air is humid and frigid to his Californian sensibilities, which is to say that it would be lightly cool to anyone else. “You alright, pal? You, uh—you call in the complaint?”

In response, the figure wordlessly tosses something into the gravel. It lands with a harsh noise. Before Gumshoe’s uneasiness can calcify into any real suspicion, they slowly raise their hands above their head. That wasn’t at all what he was expecting, but then again, nothing about this call has been. Fumbling, he turns on his flashlight and raises it, pointing it straight at the figure’s face.

It’s been a long night. That’s why he genuinely worries that he might be hallucinating when the beam of his flashlight illuminates Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth—drenched in water, bangs plastered to his face, shivering violently. He flinches visibly at the sudden light, blinking hard and grimacing.

In a panic, Gumshoe nearly considers clicking off the flashlight as if someone else will be standing there when he turns it back on, and the night will go back to normal. It makes sense for a moment, because this is a bad dream. It has to be.

No matter how hard he wishes it, the drowned ghost of Miles Edgeworth does not disappear. He looks as if he stepped straight out of a courtroom and into a lake, his cravat hanging limply at his neck, his shoulders hunched into the same woolen coat that Gumshoe saw him wearing as he left the office only hours earlier. Now that he's closer to him, Gumshoe can hear his breath, fast and sharp as a jackrabbit's. The blunt light reflected on his face makes his pale irises disappear almost entirely, turning his stare ghostly as his pupils contract. He takes a moment too long to react to Gumshoe’s presence, staring at him like he can see through him, but slowly his eyes focus on his face above the flashlight. His blank expression wrinkles. “Detective Gumshoe,” he says, distantly dismayed.

“Mr. Edgeworth,” Gumshoe says cautiously. His first instinct is to ask if he’s okay, to offer him his dry coat—but something holds him back. He’s trying very, very hard not to make any snap judgments, but dread is slowly and powerfully starting to seep into his stomach. “What are you… doing out here so late, sir?”

It’s a miserably stupid question, and Gumshoe does feel stupid, like he would be left standing and gaping if Edgeworth decided to take off in a sprint. Edgeworth doesn’t deign to answer him, looking somewhere in the general vicinity of Gumshoe’s face without meeting his eyes. Gumshoe tilts the light down to the gravel, hoping fervently to not find what he’s expecting. Deep down, he knows that he’s not going to be so lucky. A pistol lays in the gravel of the parking lot, wet black metal glinting dimly in the light. Still, he tries not to jump to conclusions, not about the gun, not about the dark, unidentifiable spatter at the cuff of Edgeworth’s pants. It could be mud. It could be anything. He slowly, unhappily pans the light back up to Edgeworth, who squints and blinks at the renewed assault of light but otherwise doesn’t move from his stiff, shaking position. Gumshoe tries to ask him something else, but everything he can think of dies in his mouth.

“Alright,” Edgeworth says finally, voice faint and shaking from the cold. “You took longer than you should have to arrive. I had a lot of time to think. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’ll be easier for everyone if you arrest me now.”

“Arrest you,” Gumshoe repeats. His mind is working more slowly than it should. He knows that there’s a very obvious connection to be made here, but—but he can’t bring himself to believe it.  “Why… why would I do that, sir?”

“On suspicion of murder,” Edgeworth says, not seeming any more perturbed about the idea than his baseline of distant, distraught shock. The brief panic and recognition that had flashed onto his face when he saw Gumshoe is far gone. Gumshoe’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach like a stone. He’d hoped for fireworks, he remembers miserably. He really had.

“Murder? But no one’s been reported…” he begins to protest, and then thinks better than to contradict Miles Edgeworth of all people. 

“He will be, soon enough.” 

Gumshoe’s stomach turns at the thought of having to walk past this already nightmarish scene to find something worse. He wonders how long Edgeworth has been standing here, dripping wet in the cold, waiting for police to arrive at the scene. Since the call was put in, at least ten minutes. In reality, almost certainly longer than that. "But,” Gumshoe says, stammering, unable to stop himself from sounding completely childish in his panic, “but, but, but, you wouldn’t. You would never shoot anyone. I know you!”

He sees something shift in Edgeworth’s eerily blank expression, a hint of an emotion that he doesn’t have time to identify before it’s covered with tired contempt—an expression that Gumshoe knows well enough to identify in a second flat. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, detective. Maybe you can apply to be a character witness.” Despite the Edgeworth-isms coming out of his mouth, he doesn’t seem all there, like parsing Gumshoe’s appearance in front of him and coming up with biting things to say to him is a distant afterthought. A sudden shudder passes through him, his shoulders lurching up to his ears. “So are you going to arrest me anytime soon, or are we going to stand here until I die of hypothermia?” 

A trickle of sweat pours down Gumshoe's temple, causing him to realize that he’s in a cold sweat himself, shirt beginning to dampen. He can’t believe this. It simply isn’t registering as reality in his brain, or even as a possibility. “I… Sir… You didn't really do it, did you?”

Edgeworth shifts on the spot and finally breaks his uncomfortable stare, glancing at the gun. "No, I didn’t,” he says quietly, almost as if to himself. 

“So why are you—asking me to arrest you?” Gumshoe almost laughs it out. Of all of the situations he thought he’d be in tonight, his boss trying to persuade him to arrest him for murder didn’t even feature on the list. All of his training has flown out of his head. He almost starts to wonder if this is a nightmare again, but everything is far, far too coherent for it to be a dream, and he isn’t that lucky.

“I’m—I’m just—” Edgeworth shakes his head, his stunned calm receding as he starts to regain some lucidity. The experience of coming back to himself seems to distress him. "I'm only trying to save the investigation the time and effort of—of discovering that my fingerprints are on the murder weapon, and that I was undeniably involved in the… incident, and that the identity of the victim makes me uniquely suited to be a suspect." Beneath his bangs, Gumshoe can vaguely see him grimace, wry but not quite with humor, as if he'd find this funny if he were in less of a state. "If I didn't turn myself in, you'd bring me in soon enough, and I'd rather spare myself the paranoia. I’m the only suspect you have. I’m—I’m in an almost perfectly indefensible position. It’s impressive, if you think about it.”

“But that’s… insane. If you didn’t do it…” Gumshoe pans the light back down to the gun for a moment—the murder weapon, he reminds himself, future key evidence, to be bagged as soon as possible. It sits there perfectly innocuously. It occurs to Gumshoe, as much as he wishes it didn’t, that he can’t think of a single other person who would have taken Edgeworth’s claim that he isn’t a murderer at face value. Anyone else would find his deadpan rationality strange—incriminating, even. Gumshoe knows him far better than that. Edgeworth is in crisis mode, and he’s not going to emerge anytime soon. He angles the light back up and gets another hard flinch. "Who's the victim?" he asks, fearing the answer.

That gets him a typical Edgeworth-like sneer of disgust, at about one third of its usual power. "I’m not going to do everything for you."

“Sorry, sir,” Gumshoe says as a reflex, and then shakes his head in confusion. “I… why are you even telling me all this? Shouldn't you be, I dunno… running?"

Edgeworth looks him properly in the face for a split-second, aghast. "Firstly, I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say that to an active murder suspect.” Despite the fact that he’s still trembling, the force of his voice is starting to come back to him somewhat. Gumshoe has the urge to apologize again. “Secondly, we're in a forest. At midnight. Only one of us has a flashlight or a gun. Do the math.”

Gumshoe remembers the gun in his holster and nearly drops it into the gravel beside the other. "No, I... I wouldn't, I couldn't..." Panic is starting to rise into his lungs. He’s going to have to arrest him. He really is. “Don’t make me do this, Mr. Edgeworth,” he pleads. He’s too sleep-deprived to have any self-control left, and his eyes are getting misty.

Pleading doesn’t help his case even a little bit, and he shouldn’t have expected it to. Edgeworth watches him begin to snivel with mild revulsion. “Would you get yourself together?” he says stiffly, which is a rich sentence to hear from a man looks to be one unpleasant shock away from falling into a catatonic state and is begging to be arrested for a murder he didn’t commit. “You don’t have a choice, detective. It’s your job to apprehend the most likely suspect, and I am handing you probable cause on a silver platter. My relationship to you shouldn’t affect your professional judgment.”

“Of course it affects my judgment!” Gumshoe says, through real tears. “What are you even saying?” 

Edgeworth raises his voice above the sound of Gumshoe loudly snuffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I’m saying that I have no interest in becoming a fugitive from the law. The only thing I plan to do is stand here until an officer places me under arrest." And then he does, water still dripping off of his raised arms even as they falter from fatigue. "That wasn't an invitation to wait until someone more competent gets here," he says when Gumshoe still hasn't made a move towards him. And then, when he still refuses to do anything but blubber into his sleeve, "Detective, if you refuse to arrest me, I will personally ensure that the remainder of your employment is short and miserable."

Gumshoe mops his face with his arm, draws up though his nose, and finally forces himself to move, clicking his flashlight off and tucking it in one of his enormous coat pockets. He takes his handcuffs out with shaking hands and takes slow, small steps across the parking lot to stand behind Edgeworth, who crosses his wrists behind his back without being asked. 

"Miles Edgeworth, you're under arrest on... on..." Gumshoe has a hard time spitting it out. "On suspicion of murder." He reluctantly clicks the cuffs into place. Edgeworth doesn’t struggle. He’s no longer panting, but his breathing comes in distant, sharp inhales. Before walking him to the car, Gumshoe takes a breath and asks, “What happened out here, sir?”

"You have to inform me of my rights." 

Gumshoe stares at the back of his head in flabbergasted silence. "You… you know them."

Edgeworth turns to glower up at him through his wet, stringy bangs. “Do you assume that a lot of people know their rights without being told, detective?” 

“No! No, no—”

"Are you aware that if I'm not read my Miranda rights, the prosecution legally won't be able to use any statement I make in questioning?”

“And you want them to?” Gumshoe says before he can think better of it. For the first time since Gumshoe stumbled upon him, Edgeworth puffs up to his full stature, full of indignance, and Gumshoe feels distinctly like a first-year patrol officer about to be subjected to verbal warfare for filing his report a week late. 

“Detective, I will get on that stand and the first words out of my mouth will be that you didn’t follow arrest protocol. You don’t know how much of a living hell I can—”

“You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Gumshoe sighs and begins to haltingly recite, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, one will be provided for you.” He feels more ridiculous with every sentence, particularly the conclusion considering who he’s talking to. Edgeworth watches him finish stumbling through his speech out of the corner of his eye. They both know he's gaining nothing from hearing it. Gumshoe almost expects him to launch into another lecture, but he simply remains silent when he's done, turning away from him and staring at the forest floor. The fury has leeched out of his body language, leaving him drooping again.

Gumshoe tries again: "What the hell happened—?"

"I'm not answering any questions without an attorney present,” Edgeworth says to the ground.

Gumshoe miserably admits that he’s been played for a fool and takes Edgeworth’s shoulder to walk him around to the back of the car. Edgeworth goes willingly, ducking his head automatically as he’s pushed into his seat. Gumshoe winces at the audible squelch of his coat as he sits down. He’s going to leak water all over the car—Gumshoe’s car—and someone—Gumshoe—is going to have to clean it up later. Gumshoe closes the door after him and blows out a frustrated breath. His tears are cooling on his face, and he tries his best to scrub them off with his sleeve before reluctantly sliding back into the driver’s seat. 

The moment he’s back in his car, the sheer absurdity of the situation sets in in full force. He expected fireworks. Instead, he’s going to have to file arrest paperwork for Miles Edgeworth. He knows that his first priority should be to radio in his report and call for forensics, but all he can do is sits there dumbly, staring through the windshield at the place where he was standing, as if he can will the shadowy figure from earlier back into existence and fashion them into someone else. Someone who would make more sense.

“Are you going to answer that?” Edgeworth asks. 

Gumshoe jumps at the realization that his police radio is alive and crackling with inquiries after his status. He glances in the rearview mirror to see Edgeworth slumped back with his head resting over the top of his seat, eyes closed. 

“I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, sir.” Edgeworth cracks his eyes open, his glare withering even through a dusty mirror. Gumshoe gestures helplessly, too overwhelmed with frustration to be intimidated for once. “Station, I arrested my boss for suspected murder. No, a body hasn’t been reported, but I dunno, he said there would be one. No, he says that it wasn’t him that killed ‘em. Do you see how that’s going to sound… a little crazy?”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem.” Edgeworth closes his eyes again. Gumshoe puts his hands on the steering wheel and bangs his head against it softly. 

"I hope for your precinct’s sake that you aren’t always this incompetent," Edgeworth says faintly. 

Gumshoe picks his head up miserably, clearing his throat and reaching towards the radio. "I try my best, sir."

[systimming]

🎃 - cn city halloween commercials

[nightshadesystem]

{H}i, I’m Chica! I am a fictive from Five Night sat Freddy’s: Security Breach! My other fnaf fictive pals are looking for more friends!!!!! :D There’s Gregory and David! We don’t let Gregory front, or without an adult alter with him due to our policy on our syskids fronting! Then there’s David. He’s techinally a “Shadow Freddy” fictive, but he doesn’t like being called that.

Please like or reblog this, so we can end up chatting and become friends! :D

[ramager-okaja]

A fanpoint I’ve had for months and a fanpoint I made earlier today in about four minutes.

[colbybrockswifey]

A Helping Hand

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: Hey lovelies! Requests are open and I would love to hear from all of you! This is a smut that I thought of, I hope you all enjoy it<3! I think I need mental help after writing this😭

Synopsis: You, Sam, Kat and Colby go exploring, however, Colby can't seem to keep his hands to himself.

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! public sex, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (receiving).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You, Sam, Kat and Colby are standing in front of a haunted building, recording a video for Sam and Colby’s channel.

“What’s up guys, Sam and Colby here with a brand new haunted video,” Colby says to the camera.

Once he introduces everyone, Sam goes to pick up the camera and holds it in his hands, pointing it towards the building as everyone walks up the steps into the building.

“Damn, if I knew it wasn’t so cold I wouldn’t have worn a dress,” you say. Everyone giggling. Colby walks up next to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“I would give you my hoodie but I’m not wearing anything underneath it,” he says.

“I don’t think I would mind that,” you smirk, looking up at him. Colby rolls his eyes playfully.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he says, a smirk playing on his face, his arm leaves your shoulders and moves down to give your ass a squeeze, you swat his hand away with a playful roll of your eyes.

You all make your way into the dusty old building, it’s absolutely massive. The ceilings are high, what’s left of it and all the doors to the rooms are torn off. You all look around in awe.

“It’s said that this building housed asylum patients who unfortunately have had experiments done on them,” Sam says to the camera.

“This place must be filled with pain and anger,” Colby adds. You all nod in agreement.

You all move as a group to take in the floor plan of the building. Colby sneaking in sensual touches here and there. His touch starts innocently by resting his hand on your waist but it trails down to rest on your ass. He even goes as far as to lift your dress slightly so his hand makes direct contact with your underwear covered ass. You aren’t going to admit it but his touch is getting to you.

The two guys try to ask the spirits to interact with the equipment but nothing happens until Colby suggests something outrageous.

“What if we split up?”

“No way dude, you don’t know what or who could be here” Sam interjects, Kat agreeing beside him.

“We won’t be far at all, we will be one floor above to see if we get any action,” Colby says, trying to convince Sam. After a while of thinking, Sam agrees.

“Fine, but if anything happens we meet at the entrance,” Sam says, Colby nodding in agreement.

Colby takes your hand while you gather a few pieces of equipment and you two go up a flight of stairs to the floor above. Colby turns on the flashlight to light up the corridor. You place a rem pod in the middle and ask the spirit questions but to no avail. As you and Colby walk down the dusty and creepy corridor you ask Colby.

“How old must these sprits be?”

“I think hundreds of years old,” he responds, his hand making its way to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. Your skin tingles to the touch of his hand.

“They’ve been dead for so long, I don’t think they get a lot of action,” you joke. Colby stays silent for a while.

“Well, let’s give them a show.” He rasps before turning towards you and pressing you against the nearest wall. You gasp in surprise.

“Colby, are you serious right now?” You say, your eyes widening. He presses his body against yours, his nose lightly trailing the length of your neck. Your hands habitually coming up and weaving your fingers through his hair.

“Dead. Serious.” He whispers before his lips suck on the spot he knows you love. You let out a moan, hearing the sound bouncing off the walls.

“You need to be quiet baby, wouldn’t want us to get caught.” Colby says before raising his head to lock eyes with you, the flashlight still in his hand, illuminating his baby blue eyes. You nod.

“I need your words baby,” Colby says, his thumb gently grazing your cheekbone.

“Yes, Colby.” You whisper, lust consuming your every thought.

At that Colby drops to his knees, placing the flashlight on the ground. He lifts up your dress and looks up at you as he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pulls it down. You bite your lip at the action. The most sexually dominating man you’ve ever known is on his knees before you, ready to please you with his mouth. The thought sends tingles to your core.

Colby looks back down and gently takes your leg and puts it over his shoulder, burying his face into your glistening pussy. He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. The first touch of his tongue never gets old. You bite your lip to stop sounds leaving your mouth and weave your fingers into his hair.

Colby swirls his tongue around your clit, making it harder for you to hold in your moans, resorting to you covering your mouth with your hand. His plump lips wrap around your clit and sucks on it gently. You buck your hips into his face, your eyes rolling back at the pure pleasure this man is making you feel as you cum on his face. Colby licks up your juices before getting up from his kneeling position. You unbuckle his pants and push his pants and boxers down so his cock springs free.

“Jump,” he commands, his chin glistening in the dim light.

You do just that, wrapping your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. His hands hold you up by your ass. You take his cock in your hand and direct it to your pussy. Colby thrusts his hips in until he bottoms out. You both let out a groan at the feeling. You can never get enough of feeling full with his dick.

After a while Colby thrusts in and out of you, his balls slapping gently against your ass.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me baby.” Colby pants in your ear.

You look to him before connecting your lips with his. Your tongue enters his mouth in a frenzy. Colby meets your tongue with his, faintly tasting yourself. You groan into his mouth, Colby picks up speed at the sound of your moans. You feel a knot form in your abdomen, feeling yourself getting closer.

“Colbs, you always fuck me so good.” You pant, breaking away from his lips. Colby’s head tilts back at your words. His grip on your ass tightens as he gets closer to release.

“I love the feeling of you filling me with your cum.” You say, tilting your head back in pleasure, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to release. You suddenly feel Colby’s hand reach to rub your clit. The new angle he takes hits you differently, almost making you scream. You feel the knot releasing.

“I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” You repeat as you cum over Colby’s dick. Your lips connect with his, moaning into his mouth that he graciously swallows.

Your pussy tightening around Colby’s cock makes his hips thrust harder and faster until you feel hot ribbons of cum filling you up. You moan softly at the feeling.

Colby stills inside you, trying to catch his breath before slowly removing himself from inside you, suddenly feeling empty. He lets you down on shaky knees. Helping you put on your underwear and fixes your dress. You pull his pants and boxers up and gently tuck his dick into his pants before zipping and buckling his belt. You look up at him and love shines through his eyes. His hand comes up to gently cradle your face and leans down to give your lips a soft peck.

“Was that on your bucket list?” You ask, smiling.

“Yeah, and it was fucking amazing.” He says before taking your hand in his. You let out a giggle. You two just fucked in a haunted and abandoned building. You couldn’t compute what just happened.

Colby picks up the equipment before you two walk towards the entrance of the building, ready to leave. You see Sam and Kat waiting for you two.

“Were you able to capture anything?” Sam asks,

“Nope. Dead quiet.” Colby says. You had to hold in your giggle.

“Same, let’s go. This place was a bust.” Sam says before moving towards the doors of the building.

Sam and Kat are ahead of you, walking down the stairs while you and Colby hang back.

“What you did back there was absolutely amazing. I mean, what you did with my clit was eye-rolling.” You say, Colby furrows his eyebrows.

“What you mean, babe?” Colby asks, stopping you two on the stairs.

“The new angle you did.” You say, confused.

“Babe, I didn’t touch your clit, I was holding you up, remember?” Colby says, his eyes shining with concern. Your face pales and your heart drops. A few seconds of silence go by before you answer.

“Wait… If you didn’t touch it?… Then who did?” You whisper, absolutely mortified at what could have.

“Wait, you don’t think it could be a ghost? Right?” Colby says, hoping to be wrong.

“I think it was.” You whisper. A cold feeling washes over you and you can’t even being to comprehend what just happened. A ghost fucking finished you off. A ghost made you cum. No, no. It can’t be. But if Colby didn’t then it only leaves one thing it could be.

“Hey, you guys coming?” Sam calls from the bottom of the stairs. You and Colby look at him and slowly walk down the stairs to the car, both stunned at what had just happened.

You enter the car, sitting next to Kat. She takes in your pale face and wide eyes and asks.

“Are you okay? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” She says jokingly.

“I think I just did.” You whisper.

Before Kat could answer, the car shots forwards and you all leave the building behind however, that building will forever be engrained into your mind.

[bettxrnow]

@sgmwesters (nate)

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

@lonestarfangirl2014 and I are brainstorming terrible Golden Age names for Judy Garrick and we need input. Keep in mind that this name has to have Golden Age levels of corniness, should be related to the Flash in some way and is for a little girl in the early 50's.

Obviously it'd be hilarious if she was retconned as the first Kid Flash, so that's a top contender.

But also there's Miss Flash, Little Miss Flash, Flash Lass, Flash Lassie, Flashling, Flash Jr, Flashette and Flash Lite. (All names that emphasize that she's a girl and/or a child because that's the 50's for ya)

Then there's the names that relate to the Flash, like Flash & Dash, Flash & Light, Flash & Sparkle, ect. All of these names are either synonyms of 'Flash' or rhyme.

Or we could get silly with it and run (pun intended) with Jay's Hermes theme and call her Cherub, Angel, ect. Or something related to speed like Hummingbird or Shortstop.

Oh and for reference, her suit looked something like this (but a child version):

Personally I find Flash Lite hilarious. Because she's the Lite version of the Flash, Lite calls back to lightning, also Flash Lite = Flashlight.

But realistically I could see them going with Flashette or Flash Lass or something.

Anyway if you can think of more terrible 50's names please contribute because I would love to hear them. Also if you like one of these pls let me know lmao

[keoghanscherry]

𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲

⁂ 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶: Tom Holland x Reader ⁂ 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈: The relationship was an adventurous trip between high's and low's but never a steady pace. With the rising attention from paparazzi's and fans all around the world, his masterwork got the best of him. Until the decision to end things because of the small amount of time, changed him. The No Way Home premiere was close and you were invited, but without overthinking that you might bring your new partner, Timothee Chalamet, with you. ⁂ 𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴: This Premiere look of Tom lives rentless inside of my head. Saw a POV to this on TikTok and had to write a proper one shots for it.

Nervous fingertips tapped against the inner sides of your left thigh as the black SUV stopped in the middle of the screaming fans. A hasty breath left your parted lips, fiddling with the rings that decorated your slim fingers. The confrontation that was about to happen, was complicated and could turn the premiere into a mess. It wasn't your intention to ruin Tom's mood or this special night, one of his biggest projects played tonight for the first time. But Zendaya and Jacob insisted for you to at least join them for this event.

They've seen his behaviour change in between the press tours and the interview sessions. Lips sealed together tightly as the questions rained down on them, Tom's mind far away. Another world where all the memories with you weren't just fond imagination anymore. Sudden warmth spreading from the insides of your hand through your figure, you snapped out of the negative thoughts for the second tonight. Timothee's long fingers intertwined with yours, a faint and reassuring smile on his lips.

" We've got this, babe. " His calm voice was laced with modulation, the nervewrecking feelings slowly vanishing at the gentleness of your boyfriend. It wasn't an every day event to visit the premiere of your former lover with the new one, a person none living human being knew about. Since his popularity started to rise immensly as well, he decided to keep you safe from the blinding lights and piercing screams, a relationship with privacy. But tonight, you decided to show the part of the world that watched that this man belonged to you, in all ways.

Knocking on the darkened window, you gave the security guard the permission to open the door and reveal yourself to the flashing lights. In a swift motion, the world around them turned brighter than the beaming sun, screams of females and males filled your ears as you carefully stepped out of the SUV. Silk floating around your heels, wrapping your legs in a beautiful dark red fabric. Offering the fans a small wave, your anxiety returned at the confused faces staring you down. Tom's admirer's didn't understand your sudden appearance after crushing his world with the break up.

A large hand placed on your back, Timothee stood next to you, earning himself equally as loud screams and whistles than the main person of the movie. Waving at them with a wide smile, his eyes always found their way back to your figure. Keeping his gaze on you to reassure himself that you're doing okay with the situation. Intertwined fingers, the crowd was shocked at the sudden confession of a new lover by your side. Flashling lights surrounded the couple, taking as many picture as possible to cover the newspapers around the world with the breaking news.

Guiding you along the red carpet, at least one of his hands always on your body, he tried to make you feel comfortable. This was the life that Tom lived with every single day. Paparazzi's following him step by step to keep their agency updated, earning their money with stalking famous people. A situation that didn't offer much privacy as the newest Spider-Man.

Your gaze drifted over the people that hurried over the red carpet. Agents that followed their clients, actors and musicians getting interviewed about their appearance. Brushing a curled strand out of your face, Timothee was called over by a young woman with a microphone. With a reassuring nod towards your boyfriend, he hurried towards the barrier's with a wide smile. Waving at the fans once again that tried to gain his attention.

" Y/N! " A female high pitched squeal filled your ears as the female protagonist of the Spider-Man movie walked over. The confidence in her steps, full lips curled in a wide smile that reached her chocolate brown eyes. A red and black sequin dress, that reached the ground she was walking on, covered her skinny figure, cut outs on each side of her waist to show the beautiful brown skin.

" You made it! " Throwing her arms around your stunned body, her scent filled your nose. A decent mixture of vanilla with honey blossom. Your arms found their way around her small waist, relieved to have someone around instead of waiting alone for Timothee to finish his interview. Zendaya was about to share a screen with your boyfriend, creating the magical world of the movie 'Dune' together.

" I promised you. " You gently refered to the at least million voice messages she left about the premiere. The date and the exact time to be punctual and the pleads to see you.

" You look breathtaking. " Her chocolate coloured orbs gazed over the red silk dress you wore. Fabric tightly wrapping up your upper part with a long floating bottom that reached the ground. A long slit from your thigh travelled down to the hem, leaving enough space for the fond imagination of what's underneath. Linking her arm through yours, Zendays turned the two of you towards the flashing camera's and shouting paparazzi's. Blinding your sight once again, you forced yourself to smile at least faintly. Carefully pulling you with her down the carpet to pose for more pictures, your head tilted slightly towards Timothee. Hands deeply in his pockets as he talked to another interviewer than before. One of the most popular actors at the current timing.

" Take some pictures alone, Z. I need a complete break. " You tried to keep your shaking voice a whisper, the anxiety taking over your figure once again. Being alone at the carpet with the people you saw every day of your life while the movie was still in production, filled your head with negative thoughts of further encounters. Jacob would be surprised to see you but Tom's reaction could be a mixture of awkward and distanced. Stepping to the side and further towards the entrance of the movie theater, your gaze travelled across the crowds behind the barriers. Thousands of fans that tried to get the attention from their idols, taking a picture with them as a memory for such a special day.

Shivers ran down your back, eyes focused on a laughing figure close to the barrier. Curls loosely styled upwards, the way he wore them to almost every event. A pair of plain-glass spectacles with a black frame covered his beautiful features, rose lips curled into a excited smile. Long fingers buried deep inside the wine red suit pants as he casually talked to one of the male interviewers. The breath stuck in your throath tried to climb it's way up the dry pipe, eyes lingering on his laid back attitude. A tingling feeling spread through your stomach, the butterflies slowly starting to return to their safe place. Flashbacks clouded your mind, the days you spent together, covering your most known features to stay undercover. Dates in the middle of the night on his roof, watching how the stars appeared in the midnight sky. Muscular arms wrapped tightly around your body, rough fingertips stroking over the warm skin of your back. Tears started to form inside of your eyes, the sadness and hurt of the breakup still ripping you apart from the inside. Moving on should have been the best solution to forget a former lover but it wasn't doing it for you, not helping the slightest.

Sudden skin on skin contact pulled you out of the trance, the memories slowly fading again. A gentle kiss was placed on your cheek, pulling your soul back into your frozen statue. Blinking the watery droplets away to avoid ruining your mascara, you crooked your head to the side, Timothee found his way back to you. Skinny arm wrapped around your waist, he gently pulled you closer to his chest. Lips curved into a wide smile, laced with happiness of having you close again. Leaning forward slightly, your soft lips found their place on his cheek, returning the loving gesture from your boyfriend before posing for the camera's again. But your gaze drifted to the place you examined before, meeting his already piercing brown eyes.

An eyebrow arched at the picture in front of him, lips parted as he was about to say something but his expression changed. Shock was replaced by hurt, flat hands forming fists inside of his pockets. The scene like a dagger straight to his heart, breaking it multiple times again. Flashling lights and screams vanished, trapping you in a bubble with him alone. The encounter you wanted to miss, the devastated look that covered his beautiful facial features. You wanted to run towards him, apologize for the words that rambled out of your mouth at that one day. Tom shoke his head to recover from the emotions, building up the good front and sending a nod your way.

A breathy sigh left your dry lips, falling apart on the inside from the distance to Tom. The nudge of an elbow caught your attention, Zendaya was with you again, a protective arm wrapped over your shoulders and guiding you along the red carpet to the entrance. Looking over your shoulder to watch your boyfriend, Timothee shot you a smile, knowing that you never felt comfortable under all the pressure of acting 'perfect'. The female movie star didn't stop for more pictures, extending her arm to wave at the crowds and blowing kisses to them before disappearing with you in the theather.

" You alright? " Her sweet voice filled with concern at the change of behaviour and expression on your face. The smiles faded, drowned underneath the water that wanted to leave your eyes badly. Running your fingers through your curled hair, you shoke your head as an answer to her question. After all, the memories came back and disappeared in waves. One by one reminding you of the adventurous times you had with Tom but in the end, searching for the happiness that you already had but couldn't see anymore. Days got shorter and the amount of privacy was reduced quickly but he still tried to keep you close to his heart. Featherlight kisses peppered over your hair or forehead, reassuring you that he was around, no matter in what situation. Leading you over various different red carpets, posing for pictures alone for barely a second before pulling you in again.

" I miss him. " You whispered, head hanging low and taking in your sparkling black heels. Lips pressed tightly together, trying to take calm breaths and take the control of your nerves again.

" I don't even know what I'm doing here. Trying to convince myself that no matter who would follow him, they would do better. " A bitter laugh escaped your parted lips. Zendaya tilted her head slightly, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

" There's no one that could replace the already best. " Leaning back against the cold wall, your head crashed into it harder than you predicted. But the physical pain wasn't equal with the emotional hurt you felt. Heart breaking into a thousand little pieces again, a sudden emptiness filling your figure. " I tried to push him away. Wipe the memories out of my head and it worked. But this wasn't supposed to happen, I shouldn't even be here and watch him have the time of his life, it's like he - "

" He's an actor, babe. This isn't real. " Zendaya interrupted your rambling words, holding a flat hand upwards to gain your fading attention. Drowning yourself in the hurt and the guilt of calling the wrong decision, agreeing to a break up that you thought was right.

" Tom's built up a good front but as soon as your name dropped, his entire attitude changed. He was filled with a mixture of emotions that he couldn't even explain. Y/N, he told Jacob a thousand times that he missed his better half, his girl. " Her hands were placed at your shoulders, shaking you carefully to bring you back to earth. The screams on the outside got louder as the double doors opened, revealing the wine red coloured fabric. Breath stuck in your throat, spit gathered in your mouth as you remained motionless against the wall.

Tom closed the door with a chuckle, hands deep inside of his pockets as he turned around to follow the path to his seat but stopped in his tracks. Brown eyes lingered on your devastated figure, Zendaya holding you up to prevent the emotional breakdown. With a reassuring nod towards his co-star, the skinny beauty's grip softened before it completely disappeared.

Replaced by a clothed arm around your waist, you were guided towards a more secluded area of the theater. Memories and emotions clouded your mind, your voice disappeared in the ranting about the stupid decision of breaking up but you wanted to scream. Tell him to leave you alone, to not touch you and to stop making you fall in love with him over again.

Seated on one of the bar stools, Tom leaned against the counter himself. Lips pressed tightly together, his gaze took in your choice of dress for tonight. A dark red one that fit perfectly with the suit that he wore. Small ornament details around your waist before the fabric started to spread and float around your legs.

" Timothee, huh? " His raspy voice rang through your ears, sending shivers over the parts of your skin that weren't covered in the silk dress. Teeth chewing on your bottom lip, your eyes focused on your hands. You could have said a thousand words, argue with him, shout at him or apologize but as soon as you parted your lips, the words got stuck in your throath with your breath. A shaky nod was the only answer you were able to give the man.

Leaning forwards, his rough fingertips brushed over your cheek, putting a strand of your hair back behind your ear. Heartbeat increased at his touch, you let out a relieved breath at the sensation. With the featherlight contact against your skin, the warmth spread through your body, calming down the anxiety. Long and slim fingers landed underneath your chin, pushing your head gently upwards to connect your eyes with his. A faint smile on his lips as he studied your soft features, remembering the little traits he discovered throughout your relationship. Your bottom lip pushed out, you couldn't stop the water that filled your eyes, almost forced to stare at what you had lost.

" I miss you. " You whimpered between sobs, the droplets of water rolling down your cheek, leaving black trails of mascara from the first tear. The sudden contact of his warm hands on your skin broke the walls around the hidden emotions, washing over your body in suprise. Eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, brown eyes gazing over your face with the tip of his tongue darting out to lick over his dry lips. Heavy breaths leaving his parted lips as you stared at him, quiet sobs leaving your frowning mouth. Tears falling down your cheeks in seconds, showing the devastated side you've been hiding since the break up.

Leaning his head forward, Tom held yours in place with his pointer finger and thumb, applying a comfortable amount of strength. Words couldn't describe the mixture of feelings and emotions taking over your figure as he was merely an inch away from kissing you.

" I'm glad you came back. " English accent thicker, laced with the raspy sound of his voice when he closed the gap between you and him. Tilting your head slightly to the side, you made the position more comfortable. Pillow like lips felt like coming back home, a feeling of safety and love she missed the past months without him. Fingertips dancing around her jaw, he placed his hand at her cheek. His thumb drawing small circles over the heated skin, wiping away the still falling tears from your eyes. Droplets that were created by sadness and hurt turned into ones filled with relief and happiness. Both kept the movements simple, standing close to eachother, taking in the warmth they lost after they went their seperate ways. Slowly picking up the pieces from a destroyed heart, to built it together as one. Memories clouded your mind once again but this time, they weren't hurting anymore.

" Probably need an explaination for Chalamet. " Tom broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours with an amused smile. Shaking your head slightly at the comment, your hand found it's place at his neck, playing with the brown curls.

" He'll understand, hopefully. " You spoke with confidence, the last amount of anxiety leaving your body as you felt like being home again. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his kisses and the gentle glimpse in his beautiful brown eyes, small details burned in the back of your mind. Features and feelings you wouldn't want to miss for another day.

" He has to. " Tom leaned completely back, extending his arm towards you. " We have a movie to watch, darling. " The sound of his laugh filled the room, a heartwarming moment that made you smile widely as you took his hand. Intertwining your finger, a wide and proud smile plastered on his lips as he lead you back to the main area of the movie theater with butterflies still flying through your stomach. Some that never would disappear.

[ellzybecket]

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