#juke masterlist

[that90sghostband]

JATP Fic Masterlist

The Great Babysitting Disaster (Luke/Bobby): Luke's first time babysitting Carrie ends with a trip to

Alibi (Juke): Julie is struggling with her mother's death and Luke is doing his best to be there for her.

[websterss]

LOVING YOU MORE THAN I HAVE BEFORE — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: hello!!! I saw ur inbox was open, so if ur still writing for Lockwood, could I pls request a Lockwood x fem reader where she thinks he loves Lucy but he really loves the reader? and they work together and are best friends?? if not that's totally okay. thanks anyway and have a nice day!!

WARNING(S): mentions of minor injury, angst, fluff at the end, stubborn reader, oblivious Anthony.

WORD COUNT: 4,063

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: I hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed! Also, I live and breathe on Alfie Juke's music lmfao. ALFIE JUKES - EYES WIDE

MASTERLIST

You had not meant to stare at them again as you helped George set up the iron chains. Their constant back-and-forth bickering distracted you from your tasks at hand. You had looked back to the pair, Anthony's low chuckle catching your attention. He had a way of distracting you especially in times where he shouldn't have been. A loud thump had broken their banter and before you knew it their eyes were cast onto you. You flinched and then released a hiss when the chain landed on top of your sneaker. Your eyes briefly met George's disapproving ones as you tried to act cool. Your cheeks were burning up from embarrassment, yet the ache running through your foot burned even more. You ducked your head to not meet anyone's stares. You moved slower now as bent down to fix the chain.

"S-Sorry…" You breathed out softly.

"Subtle." George quips quietly to you.

Anthony leaned against the wall eyeing you for a moment seeing the embarrassment written across your features. He took in the slight pout of your lips as you mumbled out an apology. He found it sweet how you shrunk back when you were embarrassed. Though as attentive as he was as a friend, he hadn't missed the way you tucked your right foot behind your left, trying to lay off it.

As though you could somehow sense his stare burn right through you, you quickly looked up. Your eyes wide as you caught him still looking down at you.

Anthony gave you a brief smirk seeing the way your eyes widened as they met his. He continued to study you for a moment, as his smirk shifted into a soft smile. "You alright?" He questioned, his voice quiet as he pushed himself from the wall, taking slow steps toward you.

"Yes." You rushed out as you staggered, trying to stand upright. You swallowed back your nerves as he approached you, a smile alknowing as he noticed you teeter on one foot. You caught where his gaze landed and straightened out. He hadn't missed the scrunch of your brows.

He bit back a laugh seeing you stagger slightly trying not to favor your left foot more. He looked over you again taking note of the way you were standing with such stiffness, as he lifted an eyebrow slightly. He knew you would deny it when he asked if you were okay, as you were stubborn when it came to accepting help. Instead, he looked down at your foot again and motioned his head toward it. "Let me see it." He couldn't help but find it endearing. He reached out to place a hand against your hip, steading you. "You're a horrible liar. Let me see."

"I-I'm fine." You try backing out of his arms but he doesn't let up. He flashes his all so charming grin that you hate and love with a passion.

"Then walk a few paces." He chuckled, gesturing to the bedroom doorway you all occupied. He knew he won when your eyes widened in panic.

"Anthony…" You warned.

He gave your hip a squeeze seeing your stubbornness start to waver. "Just do as I say, darling." He mused, his voice lower. Though he knew your stubbornness would make this difficult, as you hated looking vulnerable.

As reluctant as you were, you inhaled deeply and made your way to the door, with a slight limp. You cursed at yourself for letting your clumsiness get the better of you especially during on a job.

He could clearly see the way you were walking with a limp. He let out a huff of air, almost a tsk. Why were you so stubborn, he thought as he followed after you. He bit his tongue from calling you out for being stubborn, knowing it would only get him a scathing look.

"You're staying with George."

You whipped your head around, your mouth agape as you stared at him like he kicked your dog. Hurt, betrayed, pleadful. "No, I'm fine. I stayed with George on the last job. Anthony please. You just declared me able again, please. This isn't as bad as last time!"

His jaw was set as he saw the look of betrayal and hurt in your eyes. He hated that look, it got him every time. He pressed his lips into a flat line. There it was, the pleading look. It made him waver slightly but he didn't relent, his eyes narrowing. He reached out for you, but you had only moved away from his hand.

"Not different than last time?" He shakes his head. "You're staying with George." He said firmly, his voice low as he eyed you. "You know you've done something to your foot, and I'm not letting you out this room like this. You're not just going to suck it up and deal with it this time. End of discussion!" He ran a ring-clad hand through his messy hair, trying to fight the urge to let you continue. He knew you were tough, he knew you could handle yourself. He also knew you would push yourself to your limits and do something reckless.

"Bloody fucking hell, Lockwood! It's a limp for gods sake!"

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. He inhaled deeply as he stared you down. You were pushing his limit. He was trying to keep his cool, but you were testing him. 

"I don't care if it's a bloody limp! You're not going into god-forbid, a potentially dangerous situation! Not like this!" He exclaimed, his voice raising slightly before he caught himself as he saw the look in your eyes. He ran a hand through his hair again, "I'm doing this to keep you safe! Something you're too bloody stupid to do yourself!"

He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth, seeing the way your eyes widened, filling with water. He had never been so rough with you like that before. He was frustrated, but taking it out on you wasn't right. He didn't want to hurt you, he just wanted you safe.

"I'm sorry..." He exhaled deeply, his expression softening. "I didn't mean that, I just-" He cut himself off when you turned and descended the stairs of the house.

He cursed under his breath as he watched you spin away from him and head towards the stairs. He made a sharp movement to follow you but he stopped himself. He placed his hands on the dresser and leaned against it as he tried to fight down the guilt of his words, and his frustration. He knew he had said the wrong thing. He shouldn't have said that, but sometimes his emotions got the better of him. He knew you were capable, but you sometimes put yourself at risk without a second thought or you tried to hide your injury or pain.

"Lockwood!" Lucy pulled him out of his thoughts. "Anthony!"

"What?" He whipped around angry, angry with himself.

"It's past curfew!" George panicked, reminding him that you just slammed the front door. Lucy only shook her head as she rushed past him, sprinting after you in hopes to catch you.

"No, no, no!" He shouted, panic seeping into his voice as he realised what you had just done. He quickly glanced at the window, looking out, but the darkness limited what he could see. There was no way in hell he was letting you walk back alone at night, especially in your condition.

"I can't stand her sometimes!" He exclaimed as he made quick strides to the front door, practically ripping it open.

"What about the visitor?" George began collecting the equipment in a rush. Calling after Anthony.

"To hell with it, George. We'll come back later!" Is all George heard before another slam of the front door rattled through the house.

"Seriously!" George complained as he rushed down the stairs with the duffle bag. His wide eyes looking around for any signs of the visitor. He shook as he opened the front door and ran after his friends.

-

"I'm telling you, Lockwood. She's probably home already." Lucy was exhausted, it was nearing the 3am mark.

"She has a bloody limp, and it's almost 3 a.m, Luce." He seethed as he followed what little marks you left on the damp ground. He was angry with himself. He shouldn't have let it escalate like that, he should've controlled his emotions, and he just shouldn't have said what he said. Yet he should've known better, the last time he was out of time...your impulsiveness kicked in and you continued a job with a stab wound on your side that you didn't tell him about until you all were passed hthe threshold of the apartment. He almost cried, he did cry when you passed out on the floor. "You know her, she's probably walking around until she can't anymore out of bloody spite." He gritted through his teeth. His jaw was tight again and his tone was low as he kept his gaze locked on the path in front of him. The only thing illuminating their way was the streetlights as they walked down the long, dark street. "I know her. She's too stubborn to go back home. She'll probably end up at some park, and I'm going to throttle her when I find her!" He continued, his voice still cold but the worry was evident.

"You are aware she does it on purpose…?" George chimed in, keeping his head down.

"Of course I do! That's what pisses me off!" He exclaimed, his voice strained. He couldn't deny that you did these kinds of things on purpose just to spite him, and he hated it. He knew you enjoyed getting on his nerves, but it didn't make it any better. It only made it worse, and more frustrating.

"Do you know why though?" George eyed him curiosuly. He had to tell him, you could hate him forever for all he cared, he was tired of you skirting around and avoiding your feelings.

Anthony stopped in his tracks for a moment, turning slowly toward George. A frown tugged at his features as he regarded George with a curious expression, his eyes searching his friends face for something. He knew that look, it was the look of 'I know something that you don't'.

"What are you going on about..?" He questioned slowly, his expression guarded.

"George-" Anthony looked over to Lucy who shook her head at him.

"Ask for forgiveness later, right Luce? She does it to get your attention. Seeing as you'll only give it when you're angry with her."

Anthony froze, he froze right where he stood. He stood dumbfounded for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. "You're joking, right? You're telling me all those nights where I go insane trying to find her, or I yell at her for doing something incredibly reckless, she does it for what? My attention?" His voice was low and strained. He was having trouble processing what he was being told and he wasn't sure he was liking it.

Anthony stood silent for a moment, processing what George had just said to him. It hit him like a ton of bricks as the realization set in. He slowly turned his eyes back onto George once again, and he was at a loss for words.

"That's…" He exhaled, his mind already going into overdrive. "That's ridiculous. Why would she…" He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. He knew you did it to get his attention, he just hadn't put the pieces together the way George had.

"There's more..." Lucy shrinks in on herself. Shying away from his stare.

His eyes slowly shifted to Lucy, watching the way she turned away from him. There was a sinking feeling in his gut as he watched her reaction. He didn't like the way she was acting, and he didn't like what it made him feel. "More..?" He repeated, his voice low and wary, a sense of trepidation creeping over him.

"She thinks you like Lucy." George, peeked up at him. Then turned his head to Lucy.

Anthony's eyes widened slightly as he heard George speak. He slowly turned his head to look at Lucy who avoided his gaze. He let out a scoff of disbelief.

"She thinks…But I don't-" He exclaimed, his words trailed off as a realization dawned upon him. He looked between Lucy and George as a feeling of guilt began to settle in his chest.

"She's not clumsy on purpose Anthony…" George frowns. "She was watching you and Lucy earlier, she wasn't paying much attention to what she was doing…that's why the chain fell on her foot," George admits. "She's more purposely impulsive. Not clumsy."

Anthony's expression softened slightly, as the realization that you were jealous of his relationship with Lucy, no matter how friendly it was, sunk in. It made sense, he thought as he remembered a few times when you seemed off after he was teasing Lucy. He also didn't miss the way you would give him a few extra glances when you saw him with Lucy. He ran a hand through his messy locks as he exhaled deeply, his gaze shifting away from his friends. He didn't know how to begin to fix this.

He could feel his guilt grow as he now understood the reason for your actions. "She's...jealous..." He spoke slowly, it was more of a statement than a question.

"I'd say she's been more hurt than jealous. She likes you, Lockwood." Lucy sighs heavily.

Anthony's shoulders slumped slightly as Lucy spoke, her words confirming his suspicions and causing his guilt to deepen even more. He knew you had a tendency to act impulsively when you were hurt or upset, and your jealous behavior was just another way to cope with those feelings. Hearing it from his friends, though, only made it more real.

He let out a shaky exhale, his gaze still downcast. "I never…I never realized how much it bothered her…" He murmured, his voice thick with regret.

"We all thought you knew." George said.

Anthony let out a scoff that sounded more like a half-hearted laugh as he raised his head to look at them both.

"How could I have known? I thought she just did it to piss me off." He ran a hand through his messy locks, his expression betraying his guilt and regret. "All this time…I didn't realize that she…too much time has been wasted. Feelings unsaid..." He trailed off again, unable to finish his sentences. "Where do I even begin to get her to speak to me? To tell her that I- that I feel the same way!" He huffed out in relief. Feeling a weight leave his shoulder saying how he feels about you out loud and to his friends.

"You could start with an apology first of all. Then admit you're a bloody fool!" You exclaim behind them. You pout as you cross your arms on the bench you sit on.

Anthony's eyes widened and his expression changed as soon as he heard your voice behind him. He swiftly turned around to look at you, a mix of emotions playing across his face – surprise, guilt, relief, and also a hint of irritation.

"You-" He began, taken aback by your presence but also by your pouting. He exhaled deeply as he took a few steps towards you. "How long have you been there…?"

"Not going to throttle me anymore?" You raise a brow at him expectantly.

Anthony let out a sigh that sounded more like a small chuckle. Your words tell him just exactly how long you had been there. He stopped a few feet in front of you, his hands on his hips as he gazed intently at the pout on your face.

"No, I'm not going to throttle you.." He said, his voice softer now. "Though I'd like to, very much." He admitted, his irritation clear in his tone.

"Shame…" You hum, eyeing his disheveled state. Then to Luce, and George standing back.

Antony watched you as you sat there on the bench, your arms crossed stubbornly. Your nonchalant comment causes his irritation to rise again, and he can't help but smirk in response. A hint of blush painted his cheeks as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Shame, huh? Don't tempt me." He spoke, attempting to sound lighthearted but failing miserably, the irritation still evident in his tone. He could practically hear the sarcasm in your voice. He glances at George and Lucy, watching their reaction before returning to yours. Their looks of concern and curiosity were etched on their faces.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He inquired, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.

The corners of your lips lift. You pinch your forefinger and thumb together in amusement. Your right eye shuts as you mouth 'a little bit'.

The sight of you sitting there, clearly taking great satisfaction in his frustration, only further fueled his mixed emotions. He rolled his eyes once more, a mocking scoff leaving his lips. He had to fight the urge to shake you by the shoulders out of sheer frustration.

"Of course you are…." He muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he took another step closer, now only a mere few feet away. "Let's get you home..."

"That's it…"

Anthony's eyebrow raised at your comment, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips at your defiant tone. He took another step forward, closing the small distance between the two of you completely. He looked down at you, his eyes studying you.

"That's what..?" He inquired, his tone almost mockingly calm. He could see the stubborn glimmer in your eyes and he knew what was coming next.

"'I'm a fool, I shouldn't have yelled at you my darling, Y/n'-" You feign despair.

Anthony rolled his eyes once again, his smirk growing into a playful yet strained smile. He crossed his arms over his chest once more, his gaze fixed on you as you continued to speak.

"Very funny." He shot back sarcastically, his tone dripping with mock annoyance. "You, want me, to grovel."

"I wouldn't mind you on your knees." You smirk up at him.

Anthony's eyes widened slightly and a flush crept onto his cheeks at your retort. He had a feeling you would say that, but he couldn't help the way his stomach did a little somersault at your words. He quickly composed himself, a mixture of surprise and mild irritation on his face.

"You're testing my patience…" He replied, doing his best to ignore the way his heart quickened at the thought of the image those words put in his head.

"Mine's already gone, Anthony." Your stare grows cold.

Anthony's smirk faded from his face, and a pang of guilt washed over him as you said his name in that cold, detached tone. He suddenly felt terrible for the countless times he yelled and scolded you since you met, for all the times he snapped at you when you teased him, for the times he lost his temper when others gave you attention. He could see the hurt in your expression and hear it in your voice. His gaze softened somewhat as the realization hit him and he sighed heavily. It doesn't take him long before he's knelt before you.

"I know… and I'm sorry-" He began, his voice quieter now, less snarky. "I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. I shouldn't have called you stupid because you're not. You're incredibly smart, and I'm a fool…one who loves you." He meets your eyes as your breath hitches. "It appears I wasn't exactly obvious with my feelings towards you. It was my mistake thinking you knew of them." Anthony sighs as he confesses. He ran a hand through his messy locks as he exhaled deeply, his heart feeling like a weight in his chest. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "I didn't…realize how deeply you felt about me. And I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner. For not giving you the attention you deserve. For all the times I've yelled at you, and called you stubborn, and-" He trailed off, his voice getting caught in his throat. "For not telling you sooner...I'd understand if you never want to forgive me."

"Fool…" You breathe out a laugh as you reach forward to caress his face.

Anthony's lips twitch into a faint smile as he watches you reach up to touch his face. He leans into your hand slightly, the feeling of your touch calming him. He closes his eyes momentarily, letting your touch soothe him.

"Does that mean you accept my apology..?" Anthony inquired quietly, opening his eyes once more to meet your gaze, a hint of hope in his expression.

"Depends..." Your eyes shift with something mischievous behind them.

Anthony's eyebrows raise slightly as he notices the hint of mischief in your eyes. He knows that look, and it instantly makes him slightly wary. But at the same time, he can't help being curious about what you're planning.

"On what?" He prompts a hint of playfulness in his tone. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can't hide the hint of a smile that threatens to form at the corners of his lips.

Your arms immediately shoot up, as though you want to be...

Anthony's eyes widen in surprise at how suddenly your arms shoot up in the air. It takes him a moment to realize what you might be hinting at, and his face flushes with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

"You want me to carry you, of course you do!" He replies with a small chuckle.

"Please…"

Anthony rolls his eyes with a playful grin on his face. Despite his feigned irritation, he can't deny the fact that he kind of enjoys you asking him to carry you. He lets out a mock sigh, pretending to be reluctant.

"Alright, if I must…" He teases, his voice dripping with mock annoyance. He turns around and bends down enough for you to jump onto his back. He grabs onto your legs securing your weight against his.

Anthony glanced in Lucy and George's direction as they chuckled. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly at their reactions. He could practically feel the smugness radiating off of them as he carried you piggyback-style.

"Stop laughing, both of you." He muttered under his breath, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. He shifted his grip on you, making sure you were settled on his back.

"I shall commute home like this more often." You hum.

Anthony scoffed playfully as he began walking with you on his back. He couldn't help but smile at your statement, though he attempted to maintain a neutral expression.

"Oh, is that so?" He teased, his tone lighthearted. "And what makes you think I'm going to carry you home like this every time?"

"You're love for me."

Anthony's cheeks flush at your words, and he rolls his eyes. But secretly, deep down, he can't deny the truth in them. Hearing you say it out loud, coupled with the way you were currently clinging to his back, made his heart skip. He tried to respond in a snarky manner, but his voice betrayed him, coming out softer than he intended.

"Touché." He admitted, a hint of fondness in his voice. 

"I love you too..." You mutter low enough for his ears only.

Anthony's heart skipped a beat when you whispered those three simple words to him. His grip on your legs tightened slightly, and he felt his cheeks flush even more. Your words had the ability to both fluster and comfort him at the same time. The way you said it, low and quiet, for his ears only, made his chest feel warm and his heart swell with affection.

He took a shaky breath and responded in a hushed tone, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know...and I love you more." His head turned to meet your eyes, widened and crinkled with hints of joy and surprise. It makes his heart swell with mixtures of emotions and relief, knowing that he's made you happy after all the tension that had built up between you two. He continues walking, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he glances back at you. Your head resting against his shoulder, feeling safe and secure in his hold.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stars Align 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Steve Rogers was one of the biggest stars of Hollywood’s Golden Era. For years, his disappearance from the spotlight has been a mystery, that is until he walks right into your life. (Old Hollywood AU/1960s AU)

Characters: silverfox!Steve Rogers, reader is named ‘Satyr’ for clarity

Note: A longer chapter for yall.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Satyr 

You keep your foot from fully touching the ground. It’s cold and grimy in some spots. Your caution gives your gait an uneven affectation. 

The men lead you through the city, your inner compass spinning as your eyes skitter all around. You nearly collide with Sam as he turns and opens a door. A bell above rings and he waves you inside. Your toe hits the lip of the step and Steve catches your arm swiftly, keeping you from toppling forward. 

You thank him as he squeezes then lets go, retracting his hand as if branded by the touch. You smile over your shoulder as you enter the din of the restaurant. It’s mostly empty and the lighting is low. A juke box glows against the wall near the end of the bar and several tables are set out across the dining room. 

“Gene,” Sam calls out, “where’s that bar boy? He up for making a dollar?” 

“Oliver,” the man behind the counter calls over his shoulder as he wipes the surface. “Get on out here.” 

A skinny adolescent shuffles out from the door behind the large man. Sam strides up as he reaches into his jacket. You linger close to Steve as your eyes wander around. The man on a stool at the end of the bar glances at your shoeless foot. You wiggle your toes as the famed dancer beside you steps closer, almost protectively so. 

“Honey, what’s your shoe size?” Sam says as he unfolds several bills. 

You give your size and he repeats it to the kid, holding out the bills. “Go, get her some nice shoes. Something with polish,” he demands. “Get back her fast enough, and I’ll add a few extra, huh?” 

“Thanks, Mr. Wilson,” the kid, Oliver perks up. “I’m on it.” 

Sam chuckles and turns back to you and Steve. He tilts his head and a light nudge directs you away from the bar. Sam claims the table in the corner, placing his hat beside him as Steve pulls out a chair and waits for you to sit before he does the same. 

You still can’t believe any of this is real. You smile and subtly pinch your arm. Wake up. 

“Right, so, while we wait for your shoes,” Sam begins and signals over at the bar, “let’s get to business. First lesson, move fast or go nowhere.” 

“Sam,” Steve crosses his arms atop the table and leans on them. 

“By all means, you do the talking,” Sam pulls out his cigarette case and Steve tuts. He puts it away without taking one out and huffs. “I’m merely an agent. I get paid whether it’s me or you.” 

You glance over at Steve shyly and flutter your lashes. You can barely look at him. It’s just so absurd. It’s him! The star of Red Stripes and Called To Duty. Despite the years, he is just as brilliant off-screen as on-screen. 

“We got a script, we got backing, we want to do a film,” Steve begins.

“I’m sure it’s no secret that musicals aren’t exactly in demand anymore. Ginger’s more into dramas now, and a bit above what we’re looking for.” Sam intones as another man approaches; this one slender and as tall as a lamp post. He flips the mugs on the saucers in front of you and pours coffee in each. “Bad timing but there’s a vision.” 

“It’s not over.” Steve insists. 

“Sure fooled me and everyone else,” Sam counters. 

You peek between them with a wordless gape, struggling to keep up. 

“Alright, let’s give the money back to Stark,” Steve retorts. 

“Calm down, I’m teasing,” Sam lifts his mug and blows the steam away. Steve hooks his fingers through the handle of his but doesn’t drink. You don’t really drink coffee. “Look, as much as my man wants to make the offer right now, our producer requires things done in an orderly manner. Now, we’ve seen you dance, we heard you sing. We can clean that up, but we’ll need to do a reading and screen test--” 

“Screen test?” You echo. “Are you... are you asking me to audition? For a movie?” 

Sam chuckles and Steve drags his fingertip around the brim of his cup. Then he lifts his hand and examines the lines of it, curling his fingers, then stretching them again. He opens his palm and rubs it with his other. It’s a nervous gesture you wouldn’t expect of someone like him. 

“Well, I never even been on stage until today,” you giggle. “That’s... that’s-- is this a joke? One of those big city funnies?” 

Sam snorts and shakes his head. Steve shifts beside you. “I don’t got the time to waste on jokes.” 

“Forgive him. He’s a bit grim,” Sam says. “Look, we’re looking at a revival. It’s more than a movie. We’re bringing the golden era back.” 

“Oh, oh,” you swing your legs beneath the chair. “And you want me? But—I mean, I got a call back tomorrow morning.” 

“As a backup dancer, honey. We’re offering you the starring role, so long as you look just as good on a camera,” Sam explains. 

“I know, I know, sir. Thank you, I’m mighty grateful for that. I just—I don’t know if I should believe it. My ma always said I got lost in the clouds.” You flick your thumb nervously against your other hand. 

“That’s good. That’s what we need. Actresses these days don’t wanna put in that work. They want a stand-in to do all that with some fancy camera work.” Sam argues. 

“Come to the studio. Just for a dance. See how it feels,” Steve suggests. 

Sam gives him a look you can’t decipher, “forgive him. He’s the creative type. He’s all about the emotion, that’s why I’m here. And to be honest, I don’t know if I can handle sitting through a hundred auditions with this one.” 

Steve growls in warning. 

“Well, I... I suppose I could try. Nothing wrong with that. I mean, I came all the way here just for the audition today.” You shrug. 

“Came all the way to New York? From where?” Steve asks. 

“Ah, way out in the country. My only audience was Mr. Shawnessy’s cows.” 

Sam laughs again. He sure finds everything amusing. 

The tall man reappears and lays out paper menus. You sit back and thank him. When he goes you look down and try not to show your reaction to the prices. It’s not very expensive for most, but for you, you don’t have a penny to spare. The coffee you have no interest in will be enough of a gouge. 

“Mm, starving,” Sam leans forward to brows the menu, “how about you?” 

“Just thirsty. Think I might just have some water,” you smile without another look at the paper. 

“The Monte Cristo is great,” Steve offers. “Dancing always gave me an appetite.” 

“No, really, I’m--” 

Grrgghghhghg. Your stomach roars in direct contrast to your insistence. You cringe and sheepishly look down. You push your shoulders up. 

“Really, I had a roll with butter on the bus. I’m fine.” 

“My treat,” Sam proclaims. “You don’t think we’re gentlemen? We don’t let a lady pay for her own plate.” 

“No, please, you can’t,” you exclaim and clap your hands. “Really, it’s fine.” 

“You keep saying that but your stomach sounds like a thunderstorm,” Sam scoffs. 

“I’ll eat at the station. I don’t wanna spend your money.” 

“First time I heard a woman say so,” Sam chortles and ignores you a he signals again. 

“Station? Thought you had a call back,” Steve remarks flatly. 

“Well, er, yeah, I was gonna stay there since... since I didn’t expect--” 

“Sleeping at the station? No way. Not the next co-star of Steve Rogers,” Sam snips as the tall man once more approaches, “Winston, monte cristos for the table. Side of fries with each, and some of your chocolate cake. Betsy always made the best slices.” 

“Thank you,” you put your hands to your cheeks and lean on your elbows. “Promise, I’m really not pathetic.” 

“We all start somewhere,” Steve assures you. “I was hemming dresses and building sets when I started. Just a skinny kid hiding behind the curtains.” 

“He likes to say so,” Sam harrumphs. “But look at him now.” 

You smile as your cheeks burn and you chew your lip. Your stomach rolls over again as the smell of coffee makes you nauseous. You can’t wait to call your ma and tell her all about it. 

Steve 

Steve walks beside her, trying not to stare, even as his eyes move on their own to spy her from the corners. She walks with a limp as she tries not press her sole to the cold pavement. He battles with the urge to pick her up and keep her off the dirty street. That feels too much. 

Sam stops in front of Gene's and opens the door. She stops short as Steve does the same, nearly squashing her between their bodies. She turns at the tinkle of the bell and takes the other man's wordless invitation inside. She trips over the threshold and without a thought, he grabs her arm to keep her upright. 

The touch wraps his hand in fire. Her warmth seeps into him and it's like he's been electrified. He squeezes as the flames flick up over his face and he lets her go as she turns to smile over her shoulder. Another scalding lash across his chest. 

He's afraid of how just a flash of her eyes can make him want to tap his toes. He shouldn't feel that way. He barely knows her. He doesn't know her.  

He lowers his hand to his hand an wiggles his fingers. He's impressed. He was quick. He might still have it after all. His reactions are there, but what about the rhythm. 

"Gene," Sam calls to the owner, "where's the bar boy? He up for making a dollar?" 

The man calls for his son as he drags a cloth over the bar. 

Steve doesn't hear his next words as Satyr stays close to him. He can tell she's anxious. He would be too. He can tell she isn't from around here. Mostly, because he is. This place is in his veins, even if he tried to drain it out. 

Steve looks down at it then notices another glancing in her direction. He moves closer. She speaks and he winces. The kid takes the money as he thanks Sam and rushes out to find some shoes for her naked foot.  

Sam turns and Satyr remains, hypnotised by the scene before her. Steve gently taps her arm and she follows them to a table. He's sure to remember the lessons his mother taught him all those years ago and pulls out her chair. She sits and he does the same, his grip lingering on the back of her chair for just a moment. 

She looks dreamy as she runs her hand up one sleeve. She pinches herself but he doesn't mention it. He needs to stop staring. 

"Right, so, while we wait for your shoes, let's get to business. First lesson, move fast or go nowhere," Sam chirps and lifts his hand towards the bar. 

"Sam," Steve crosses his arms and puts them on the table. 

"By all means, you do the talking." Sam takes out his silver cigarette case but just as quickly puts it back as Steve clears his throat. "I'm merely an agent. I get paid whether it's me or you." 

She looks over at Steve and he tries not to flinch. She's shy, starstruck. He usually hates that but it makes him feel fuzzy when she tries not to stare. 

He steadies himself before he speaks, "we got a script. We got backing, we want to do a film." 

“I’m sure it’s no secret that musicals aren’t exactly in demand anymore. Ginger’s more into dramas now, and a bit above what we’re looking for." Sam adds as Winston comes to pour the coffee. “Bad timing but there’s a vision.”  

"It's not over," Steve asserts. 

"Sure fooled me and everyone else." 

Steve sneers at Sam's smart mouth, "Alright, let's give the money back to Stark." 

“Calm down, I’m teasing,” rasies his cup. Steve loops his finger through the handle of his as he tries not to fidget. There's a lot riding on this, that's it. That's why he can't sit still.  

Sam continues, “Look, as much as my man wants to make the offer right now, our producer requires things done in an orderly manner. Now, we’ve seen you dance, we heard you sing. We can clean that up, but we’ll need to do a reading and screen test--”  

"Screen test?" She utters. "Are you... are you asking me to audition? For a movie?" 

She makes it sound glamourous again. She makes Steve excited. His dread fades away with her hopeful tones. He remembers when he was once like her, but he knows better than to believe that feeling. He wants to save her from the same disappointment. Maybe he found her so he could do just that. 

Sam laughs as Steve circles the rim of his mug, his hand still tingling. He peels his hand away and opens it, looking at the lines and the markings of his age. He balls his fist then splays his fingers wide. He can't shake the tickle under his skin. The same hand he caught her with... 

"Well I never been on stage until today," she confesses and trills with laughter. “That’s... that’s-- is this a joke? One of those big city funnies?”  

Sam snorts and shakes his head. Steve doesn't want to laugh at her. "I don't got the time to waste on jokes, he assures. 

"Forgive him. He's a bit grim. Look, we're looking at a revival. It's more than a movie," Sam expounds, "we're bringing the golden era back." 

"Oh, oh," she hums in her seat. "And you want me? But-- I mean, I got a call back tomorrow morning." 

“As a backup dancer, honey. We’re offering you the starring role, so long as you look just as good on a camera,” Sam coaxes.  It's a good thing he's talking because Steve might just get on his knees. 

“I know, I know, sir. Thank you, I’m mighty grateful for that. I just—I don’t know if I should believe it. My ma always said I got lost in the clouds.” She screws her thumb into her hand as she speaks. 

“That’s good. That’s what we need. Actresses these days don’t wanna put in that work. They want a stand-in to do all that with some fancy camera work.” Sam insists. 

“Come to the studio. Just for a dance. See how it feels,” Steve offers. He needs her to try. Just one dance, he knows it will work. 

Sam narrows his eyes in Steve's direction before he pipes up again, “forgive him. He’s the creative type. He’s all about the emotion, that’s why I’m here. And to be honest, I don’t know if I can handle sitting through a hundred auditions with this one.”  

Steve sighs. 

“Well, I... I suppose I could try. Nothing wrong with that. I mean, I came all the way here just for the audition today.” She bounces her shoulders giddily. 

“Came all the way to New York? From where?” Steve wonder aloud.  

“Ah, way out in the country. My only audience was Mr. Shawnessy’s cows.” She chimes. 

Sam laughs once more. Satyr squirms and Winston returns with menus. She thanks the waiter and gives a quick peek to the menu. Her jaw firms and she looks up evasively. She hasn't even reached for the coffee. 

“Mm, starving, how about you?” Steve drawls. 

“Just thirsty. Think I might just have some water,” she smiles. 

“The Monte Cristo is great,” Steve suggests. “Dancing always gave me an appetite.”  

“No, really, I’m--” she begins. 

Grrgghghhghg. Her stomach undergirds her protest. She shrinks down in embarrassment. Steve's heart twinges. He's been there. 

“Really, I had a roll with butter on the bus. I’m fine.” She says. 

“My treat. You don’t think we’re gentlemen? We don’t let a lady pay for her own plate.” Sam offers before Steve can. 

“No, please, you can’t,” she claps and clasps her hands tightly. “Really, it’s fine.”  

“You keep saying that but your stomach sounds like a thunderstorm,” Sam teases. 

“I’ll eat at the station. I don’t wanna spend your money.” She argues. 

“First time I heard a woman say so,” Sam snorts and gestures to the bar.  

“Station? Thought you had a call back,” Steve intones. 

“Well, er, yeah, I was gonna stay there since... since I didn’t expect--” She refuses to look at him. 

“Sleeping at the station? No way. Not the next co-star of Steve Rogers,” Sam turns to search the diner, “Winston, monte cristos for the table. Side of fries with each, and some of your chocolate cake. Betsy always made the best slices.”  

“Thank you,” she cups her face as if trying to hide. “Promise, I’m really not pathetic.”  

“We all start somewhere,” Steve drawls, tempted to lean in, to touch her again. Don't. Old man, you are getting carried away. “I was hemming dresses and building sets when I started. Just a skinny kid hiding behind the curtains.”  

“He likes to say so,” Sam huffs. “But look at him now.”  

She smiles and Steve's caution catches alight. He doesn't care if he's being stupid. She is perfect. She is his fate. 

[sixosix]

. . . WISHING HE'S MINE !

masterlist series: next part + last part

summary you’re his manager, not some fan with a clipboard and a dream. you’re not supposed to have thoughts of wishing your client better by gently kissing his flushed cheeks— two weeks. you’ll give it two weeks, and then you’ll make a decision.

tags profanity, fluff, bit of angst maybe, pining, pre-relationship

“i can’t believe him,” you murmur, jerking the juke bag further up your arms before scanning your keycard onto sae’s door. the groceries keep sliding off because their weight and the sleeves of your windbreaker leave no room for friction. “i can’t believe him! can you believe this?”

no one answers. the door unlocks with a ding!. you kick it open, calling out, “hello? are you still alive in there?”

no one answers again. knowing him, he’s feeling too proud to admit he’s guilty that he’s been caught red-handed making his way to the gym when there may as well be hail plummeting onto an unsuspecting civilian’s head.

you place your shoes in their usual spot. (and to think you even have a usual spot in sae’s home.)

sae probably can’t hear you at all. he makes no noise from where he’s lying on the couch, cooling strip on his forehead.

you hurry to the kitchen, seeing sae in the same spot you left him before. he stirs at the sound of plates clinking, blinking at you as fast as his lethargic body is capable of.

“hm.” you stare at him for a while.

sae glares, though it looks milder than usual. “don’t make fun of me.”

you tip your chin in defiance, emboldened at the sight of your usually apathetic client red in the face and barely able to keep his eyes open. “you’re a professional; not only that, you’re an adult. you should know when you’re pushing your limits.”

shifting away, sae makes a noise. for someone like him, it’s close to a kid throwing a tantrum. you chuckle, padding over with a plate and a bowl in your hands.

“look at that, sick on the bed. and to think you wanted to lift dumbbells and sweat before jogging straight home when it’s freezing. stupid.” if he were feeling any better, he’d realize you’re mocking his nickname for you.

alas, he’s nowhere near better. he screws his eyes shut. “i’m not sick.”

“right, and i’m not your babysitter. sit up, drink this.” you set the plate on the glass tea table, nudging the bowl towards him.

he does sit up, however, looking constipated as he does so. you don’t take your hands away from the bowl, concerned that he’d burn himself out of surprise and make things messier than it’s supposed to be. surprisingly, he doesn’t comment on it; somehow, the fact that you can’t explain yourself makes it worse.

he fixes both his hands on top of yours, drinking quietly. you find that you’re unable to face him while he does that.

when you look back, he takes a glance at the plate.

“curry! you like it? i made sure i bought enough for tomorrow morning.” you smile, setting the bowl down to show him the dish. “smells good, doesn’t it?”

sae hesitates, but upon seeing your eager face, ends up admitting, “yeah.”

“you should finish this soup first, though. can i turn the lights on?”

sae makes a noncommittal noise, slowly sitting up.

when the lights flicker on, you only notice that his room looks strange. if it weren’t for the fact that you visited his place often enough to be able to tell if a fork has been moved inches to the left, you never would’ve realized how the mess looks so out of place. there are clothes draped over the couch, dishes left unclean, and takeout boxes hidden in corners.

you pick one of the carryout containers, peering at it with bemusement. “were you trying to hide these from me?”

sae’s brows furrow, refusing to make eye contact. “i thought they’d be here first.”

“i told the housekeepers i’m in charge for tonight; i wouldn’t want them sick.” sighing, you pick up the stray boxes and toss them into his tiny trash can. that, too, has been left unattended, brimming with bottles of kombucha tea.

your gaze sweeps over the mess, and you decide, “i’ll clean that tomorrow.”

sae hums after taking a small bite, pleased.

he looks up. “stop staring at me.”

“sorry! i’ve just… i’ve never seen you get sick before.” you don’t stop staring at him.

his face is pale, but less concerning than it was when you saw him outside, sweating like he’s out in the desert and not somewhere like antarctica. he didn’t give in so easily, too; he said that it was nothing he couldn’t handle before, and you worry for the days you weren’t there for him and he had no one to buy hot soup for him like this. he can’t even make his usual dead-inside face because he’s grimacing at every swing of his headache.

he says, ‘it’s nothing’ as if it isn’t like him to leave his house a mess without immediately calling for the housekeepers because he doesn't know how to do it himself. he must be so out of it for it to even slip his mind.

he says, ‘it’s nothing’ but he doesn’t complain when you tell him you’re buying food—maybe he was secretly hoping you’d disagree but doesn’t say it outright because of his dumb pride.

you return to the tea table silently, settling in front of him. there’s plenty of space, so you pull out your laptop and the stack of papers you’d hurriedly shoved in your bag in panic. more have flooded in, along with concerned texts from your boss. you can feel sae’s curious gaze on you.

the heater does barely anything. you shudder, and you’re not sure if it’s because you know sae is staring at you or because it’s still snowing.

nights like these, when you end up in his apartment alone, it gets stifling—as you know you’re somewhere you aren’t supposed to be. he keeps close to you, your heart races, and you pull away. rinse and repeat.

you’re his manager, not some fan with a clipboard and a dream. you’re not supposed to have thoughts of wishing your client better by gently kissing his flushed cheeks—

you fumble with the papers. sae quirks an eyebrow.

“i’m okay!” you insist.

“i didn’t say anything,” sae says, hiding a smile behind a spoon.

“you were saying it with your eyes, i saw it.”

“did you?” sae’s gaze is dangerous. even with an adorably red nose, he still manages to make you stutter around your words just with his face.

not good. not good. you’re familiar with phone calls, meetings, and staying in sae’s shadow, but not this. when he’s right in front of you, and it’s just the two of you, you can’t come up with an excuse to talk to someone else. you can’t hide behind professionalism knowing it’s the only wall keeping you from him. 

if it were someone else in your position, would they do the same? make a fool of themselves and reason that it’s anything but love? or would they be smart enough not to make the same mistakes as you did?

you wonder if sae would also brush his knuckles against that someone, and your heart aches a little.

you can chide and reprimand sae all you want, but your intemperance isn’t far off from each other. he’d work too hard for his career, falling feverish for his lack of self-restraint; you’d indulge too much in crossing lines, falling too fast and brutally because of it.

sae finishes his meal, leaning against the couch and looking pleased. at least, as pleased as sae’s expressions can get.

you get up to retrieve a glass of water, setting it in front of him. he drinks, eyes remaining shut, so you give yourself a bit of freedom to watch him, trailing over the strands of hair sticking to his forehead, looking dumb with a kid’s brand of cooling patch sticking onto it.

but it’s never too dumb enough to keep you from wanting to keep him to yourself and stay in moments like these forever, guarded closely to your chest and no one else’s.

“you should really lie down on your bed, sae,” you say, turning back to your laptop when one eye snaps back open. “you’re gonna get a headache if you sleep like that.”

“you don’t like it there.”

7:00, 10:30, 2:00, meetings, interviews—sae’s flushed face, half-lidded eyes, and what the fuck did he just say? you pause, fingers hovering awkwardly above the keyboard. 

“it’d be strange for your manager to enter your bedroom, you know….”

“i’m sick.”

“i can tell.” you’re sick of this, too.

the warm meal must’ve made him sleepier, lolling his head back and forth before blinking rapidly to keep himself awake. sae stares at you, groggily expectant.

you sigh. “at least lie on the couch? i’ll sit with you, if that’s what you want.”

he mulls it over for a moment, then wordlessly heaves himself up to sit on the couch. he doesn’t move again, waiting patiently, his sharp yet unfocused gaze trained on you.

“so damn spoiled,” you grumble under your breath. who knew he could get like this? craving attention like a needy cat, and then most likely pretending it never happened the next day, where he’ll ignore you and trot off wherever he wants.

as soon as you sit, he lays his head on your lap. sae doesn’t even give you any chance to react.

“that— you can’t just— i didn’t do the dishes yet.”

“worry about it later,” he murmurs.

you card your fingers through his hair. worry about it later. the tension in his body leaves as soon as you make contact with his head, sighing almost inaudibly. he seems dead to the world the next second, looking all too comfortable on your lap as if he’s meant to be there. worry about it later.

does he do this to anyone else? or has he never tried because you’re right there?

your face feels as warm as sae’s forehead. you inhale sharply, frustrated. you’ll worry about this later. perhaps tomorrow morning. it’ll go away. two weeks, maybe.

you’ll give it two weeks, and it’ll be back to normal.

( a/n ) OMG COLLAB SERIES! YIPEEEEE AWESOME so excited i love my mutuals and collaborating w earth and art will be so awesome!!

[fairykazu]

is he a dog or a cat? with childe masterlist ++ cw: this is f!reader but can be read as gn, crushing && requited feelings.

the way he trailed behind you like a lost puppy during lunch; it almost made you feel pity for him. key word, almost. whatever he tried to pull during english today wasn't cool but you didn't mind it. but the way, he's acting behind you, he instantly regretted it.

but if you think about it, childe’s like a dog, fiercely loyal to the bone and willing to do anything to prove himself. he’s kind of stupid, not in a bad way of course. it’s just sometimes he acts without thinking, swinging his fists instead of using words as a weapon. other times he’s more akin to an orange cat with the way he acts, it’s like he turns off his brain whenever he hangs out with you. 

you remember when you two were playing a game of hide and seek, in your defense, he started it! he bet he could’ve found you within a minute. could he? yes, but that’s beside the point, he attacked your honor! you juked him by running to a fork, throwing a rock at a dead end and running in the opposite direction. when he reached the forked alleyway, he heard the rock in the other side, running at the speed of light. then he knocked his head against the dead end. but did you win? 

yes, that’s the most important part (an obvious lie).

…childe was fine after he hit his head of course, after you rushed towards him, helping him up. he sat on the cement floors as you circle around him with questions, checking if he was bleeding. “ajax, are you okay?” 

he was smiling like a cheeky dog, basking in the attention you gave him. if food wasn't something he'd consume, affection would definitely be his go-to. “of course, i am when you’re with me.” 

he chuckled as you rolled your eyes, punching him playfully in the arms, "okay, from that reaction, you seem to be in good shape to me."

he let out a gasp. he fixed up his attitude, immediately switching his personality from being cheeky to being solemn, tearful even. "oh, name! my forehead hurts so bad."

you tilted your head, well, it's better to play along with his antics than to ignore them. otherwise, he'd keep it up. "oh no." you dryly replied, "do you need a kiss for your boo-boo?"

childe looked up in your direction, breaking his character a bit. he was stuttering out, his freckled cheeks flustered, "really?" he cleared his throat. "i mean, ahem, i believe thats the best way for me to heal."

"really?"

it was clear that childe wouldn't believe that you would go with the kiss. but as always, he knew if he riled you up enough, bruise your ego to prove him wrong, it could happen.

maybe... well, he hopes. "...yepp!"

“if you say so, ajax.” 

he was flustered to the point his neck reddened, he didnt think it would be this easy. you leaned in close and he squeezed his eyes. but it wasn’t even a kiss, just a brief press against his skin but still he stumbled around his words, “thank you… that would surely, i mean, i know that confidently that would certainly– i mean, i know that would make me heal.” 

he’s trying to play it off as cool but internally, he knew he fumbled so bad. who says that? 

“uh-huh, c’mere, let me take you to the nurse.” 

“oh okay!” 

huh… well, he’s kind of a mix of those animals. but how do you describe that? would he be that one show, dog-cat or cat-dog?  youve seen him in a different light before but he rarely shows you what that side looks like. only once you’ve seen him as the fearful delinquent and never again.

“childe, why are you following me? don’t you have other friends?” you asked, turning your heel to stop abruptly, facing him. thankfully the road you took to go home doesn't have any crowds. otherwise, this situation could be taken in the worst way possible. childe rested his head on your shoulder, you could feel the ambience to dampen as you met his ocean eyes. 

he looked back at you, “well, name, your bodyguard is here to protect you.” 

dog. 

you rolled your eyes, “really, thats your excuse.” 

his gaze only stayed on you, “mhm, and as your bodyguard, you need to be safer around these parts.” 

“so you’re a cowboy now.” 

“no? well, i just want to say something.” 

okay, maybe a cat? 

“go on.” 

“you know in english where i acted… weird..” oh yeah, you remember now. if you recall, he was acting off. more flirty than normal, did you hate it? not exactly… but does he really need to know that? not right now. 

“there was this group of guys who were talking about you like you were an object as if you were just the girl of the week. so that’s why i was acting like we were dating. and don’t worry, i did use my words…” 

“that’s cute of you but you also fought them didn’t you?” 

“you called me cute?” 

“that’s what you focused on???” 

“that’s besides the point, you think im cuteeee.” 

“sure whatever you want.” 

he’s a dog that’s for sure. 

[shadowsndaisies]

the hard deck: slow ride (pt 2)

wc: ~1k

synopsis: a glimpse through Jake's eyes

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: here is part 2!

Look, Jake knew he was a great pilot. He knew it before he got sent to Top Gun; he knew it after. And he knew it before he got invited to this special detachment. In order to be a great pilot, there is a certain level of intelligence involved, so yes, Jake would say he's a smart guy. Which is why he feels confident in saying something has happened between you and Bradley.

You were by far the best person Jake had ever met. Pilot or not, hands-down, you were the best. There was something about you. That was just so innately trustworthy. Something bold and clever. He could put his life in your hands and wouldn't doubt them for a second. It'll be a cold day in hell before he admits it out loud, but Natasha Trace was a close second; it's the only reason he didn't go completely territorial over your friendship, that, and the fact that Phoenix probably would've thrown him overboard if he had even tried.

Since your assignment to the Tophatters, Jake has found himself with plenty of time to get to know you. And while you mentioned some of the people you attended Top Gun with, usually Harvard and Yale, you never once mentioned Rooster. Yet, there was something about the way you were staring at him, the way you watched how he and Natasha interacted; it set off all kinds of alarms in his head. He made a joke with the kiss and tell, and while you denied it, he knew there was something you weren't saying.

He's starting toward the pool table but pauses; whatever the truth was, whatever was going on, Bradley Bradshaw did something that hurt you, that much was clear, and well, if there was one thing Jake excelled at, more than flying, it was pushing all the wrong buttons. He looks back at you, gripping the G&T he'd gotten you, knowing you'd drink a beer but never enjoy it. You're playing with the condensation; he can see how your chest moves with deep breaths. And he decides there's no reason to build a bridge that was on fire from the start.

He turns and walks up to the Juke, scanning the listing and then smirking when he finds what he wants, putting in a quarter and clicking the numbers. Then he turns back to the pool table, "Bradshaw!" he calls, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees you turn. Jake hands the beers off, one to Nat and the other three to Javi for the moment being. "As I live and breathe," he smirks, stealing the pool cue out of Bob's hands.

It's a dick move, he knows, but well, right now, that's who he needed to be.

"Hangman," Rooster greets, a slight head tilt, and his lip quirks. "You look… good," he concedes, and Jake smirks.

"Well, I am good, Rooster," Jake starts, lining up his shot, and like he'd done to you earlier, he makes eye contact with Rooster as he hits the ball. However, there is a distinct rise in testosterone; unfortunately, Rooster is not nearly as fun to flirt with as you are. "I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true," Jake smirks again.

"So," Payback calls, and Jake notices how you've begun to inch forward. "Anybody know what this special detachment is all about?"

"No, mission's a mission. They don't confront me," Jake is the first to answer as he lines up his next shot, splitting his vision between the pool table and you. You're still far enough to keep everyone from seeing you but close enough to likely hear what's being said, even over the sounds of the bar. "What I want to know," he continues, "is who's gonna be team leader?" he emphasizes the question while landing another ball in a pocket before standing and looking around the table. "And who's has what it takes to follow me?" Jake doesn't mean to linger on you, but it seems to have an okay reaction because you quirk a smile in challenge, as if asking what makes you think you won't be following me? And honestly, he probably would. He'd follow you anywhere if you asked him to.

"Hangman, the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave," Rooster says lowly, and every Aviator around the table freezes.

Fanboy lets out a nervous laugh that Jake sure earns him a few glares, but his gaze doesn't move off of you; instead, he watches your shoulders tense, you bite your lip, and then he sees as you uncomfortably force yourself forward. He was a dick, he knew that, but he wasn't about to let you force yourself into this conversation when your feet weren't firmly on the ground.

Jake keeps the cocky smirk on his face and stands up straight before walking over to Rooster, "Well," he begins, looking Rooster up and down. "Anyone who follows you is just going to run out of fuel. But that's just you, ain't it, Rooster?" Jake quips. "You're snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment… that never comes," Jake takes slow steps, getting in Rooster's face.

The chorus of the song Jake had typed in came on at the perfect time.

Slow ride… take it easy…

Jake smirks, "I love this song!"

Jake had moved to go back to the game. Still, vaguely, he's aware that you're now speaking to another aviator and that Phoenix and Rooster are talking about him.

"Well, he hasn't changed," Phoenix notes, and though she's being quieter, it's not quiet enough.

"Nope, sure hasn't," Rooster affirms.

"Check it out," Fanboy calls, nodding past the table, and everybody's attention shifts, "more patches."

"That's Omaha, Halo, Fritz, and shit, is that Harvard and Yale talking to Athena," Payback notes.

Rooster pauses, "Wait, Athena's here?"

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes

[attapullman]

Whodunit? / Two

Summary: the one where identities are revealed and mickey cannot handle

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ only! f!reader, food mentions, swearing, 80s inaccuracies, mickey is a little horny

mo's note: for those who have been waiting for the six months since the last update - here it is! we get some baby sleuths! we get some cassie! do we have any theories on our culprit??

one / two / three / whodunit? masterlist

Past

On the first Sunday of Spring in town, everyone flocked to the fresh air to enjoy the bright, cloudless day. Townfolks swapped shopping for picnics in the park. Neighbors shared lawn secrets to the soundtrack of birds chirping. It was perfection in suburbia.

Brittany Willis was having her fellow second grade girls over for a garden tea party. The table was set with her mother’s nicest tablecloth, her grandmother’s chipped porcelain tea set, and a blooming bouquet of tulips freshly cut from the front walk. All the little girls sat on the front porch in their nicest Sunday dresses and white gloves, practicing lifting their pinkies while giggling and pretending to enjoy the blandly flavored hot water Brittany’s mom had served.

Across the street in the green house with white shutters, Maddy Floyd came downstairs to grab water. An act complicated by tripping over the two little boys crouched next to the hall window, cherub faces to the glass. Enraptured. Eyes glued across the street to the spectacle of pastel and lace. Maddy was still laughing at them as she poured herself a glass from the tap.

“What’s so funny?” At seven years old, Bobby still had yet to grow into his features - all big ears and oversized glasses. He gave his sister an unimpressed look from his spot on the floor, eyes still flitting to the girls from his class across the street. Mickey hadn’t moved a muscle from where he took in the scene through his binoculars.

Already old enough to drive, Maddy gives him an equally sassy look - in on a secret he’s years from learning. “Just think it’s funny you’re spying on the girls because you like them.”

The house erupts into noise as the two boys shout, “We’re not spying!” and, “We don’t like them!” in unison. Lucy, Bobby’s middle sister, yells down the stairs to keep it down.

“Mickey, you have binoculars. You telling me you’re bird watching?” The kid’s cheeks heat and he subtly shoves the spy equipment behind his back. 

Bobby’s bottom lip scrunches as he squares up to his sister. “Girls are gross. We’re just…bored.” His sister raises her eyebrow in disbelief. “Mom said we can’t play outside until we clean the playroom. Had to get creative.”

Maddy almost felt tender watching her baby brother discover the fairer sex. As she brushed by him on her way back up the stairs, Maddy placed a hand on his tiny bony shoulder and held eye contact with both of the boys who continually caused mischief. “One day you won’t think girls are gross. And when that day comes, you won’t be prepared.”

Once his sister was securely upstairs, Bobby turned to his best friend with a sisters are the worst grumble. The sounds of the little girls across the street carried over, the tinkle of porcelain and giggles. The knobby kneed kid blew out his bottom lip.

“She’s wrong, girls are always gonna be gross.” He held out his littlest finger. “Pinky promise we can’t change our minds?”

The two boys linked pinkies and spit on the floor in unison before returning back to their reconnaissance mission: Finding out where Brittany hid their baseball yesterday.

Present

The dinner shift is starting when the investigating trio push through the heavy glass door. Meatloaf crumbled onto chipped plates. The prime rib always too rare or completely overcooked. Blondie still playing on the juke just like it had hours ago.

The guys can’t figure out why they’re at the diner. With their frequent trips to the checkerboard square haven to visit Mickey’s crush, surely they’d know if someone named Cassie was here. Hell, the town was small enough that they’d know if there was a Cassie within spitting distance. Instead there was the same ten elderly men who were here every night for their sodium-drenched dinner, and a handful of families enjoying Chef Jerry’s Sunday Special. 

Not that either sleuth would voice it, but was being a police captain’s daughter enough credentials for you to be leading the group?

You slide into a sticky vinyl-bound booth and grab a menu, vaguely gesturing for your high school buds to join you. Your eyes scan the faded laminated paper without registering. The menu hasn’t changed since your grandfather was a deputy. And you only ever get fries and a shake.

While the guys begin volleying back and forth about whether it’s too late for a Coke, you turn to watch the other patrons. You’ve known this town your whole life, not a face in this greasy spoon a stranger to you. You know their habits, their families, their marital problems. This town has no secrets, and yet it evades you who could be so villainous as to steal money from the town. And right under your nose?

You hear your name drift over the crowd and see your friend, waving enthusiastically in your direction. Giving her a big grin, you beckon her over to your booth. The sleuths follow your gaze, curious, before Mickey turns the color of the cherry red vinyl behind his head.

“Cassie!” Jumping from the booth, you hug your new friend tightly, her slick ponytail swishing against your cheek. She greets you with the same gusto, pressing her grease-scented wrinkled uniform against your quarter-zip, apologizing for the stench.

Pulling back, she notices the two men watching the interaction, befuddled. She tilts her chin their way, tanned skin catching the light. “You know my regulars?”

“You know Danielle?” Mickey’s voice is drenched in disbelief, his eyebrows deep in his hairline as his hands shoot out across the table. Bob, best friend and wingman, grabs his shoulder to remind him they’re still in public - although his own head is reeling in this discovery.

They’ve been in this diner every day for weeks, sucking down malts, all so Mickey could work his charms on Danielle. An absolute betty - hair so shiny it reflects light, smile so sultry it kept the sleuth in a constant state of crushing. The name Danielle escaped Mickey’s lips so often they echoed around their apartment. 

So why were you calling her Cassie?

You wrap an arm around Cassie’s waist, giggling as you realize the situation at hand. And impressed that the stupid name tag trick of hers had actually worked. 

“Cass, you can let them in on the secret. I’ve known them forever, the most evil thing they’ve ever done is get a parking ticket.”

Under your teasing giggles, Bob mutters under his breath, “It was an accident, stupid loading zone.”

The glossy-haired waitress turns to the investigators and gives them a smirk. “Well, if she says you two are trustworthy…” She gives a wink that makes Mickey stiffen in his Levi’s. “I got sick of creeps at my last job cat calling my name. So now I’m Danielle.”

Despite their decades of sleuthing and hours of free time spent in the diner, even our hometown sleuths couldn’t have deducted that one.

The waitress and captain’s daughter finally plop into the booth, smiles abundant. One glance over at the table of young’ins and one would hardly believe there was a worry on their pretty little brows. That they were here to share malts and shakes before heading for a night out. No six-figure bank heist investigations going on over here.

You twist in your seat to look Cassie in the eye.

“We’re hoping you can help us.” She gives a shrug, a sure, what do you need? “You heard about what happened at First Local?”

To this she gives her head a shake, ponytail swishing through the air. She’s working a double and it’s been nearly dead until now. Biggest news is that the jukebox will only play Jackson Five.

You start to fill her in when Mickey cuts you off. This is his moment to impress Dani…Cassie. He launches into the logistics - the open vault, the missing money, and that you’re wrapped up in the middle. His smile can barely be contained in her presence. It’s the longest he’s held her attention since he recounted winning the third grade spelling bee. He’s basking in her focus, leaning on his elbows to be that much closer to her.

When he’s finally done, you shoot him an unimpressed look. “Yes, thank you, Mickey…Uh, anyway, we need to talk to Jake Seresin-” She cuts you off.

“I am not talking to him. He’s a tool.”

The boys snicker, approving of the waitress even more for hating their high school bully. 

While you can’t fault her for pointing out the truth, you need some leverage if you’re getting in with the security guard. And you aren’t a complete idiot when it comes to the way his eyes follow her around when she drops by with a burger for you during the lunch rush. 

“We can all collectively agree he’s…with fault, but he knows all the logistics of the bank. And there’s a secret door that only he knows about. We need to know what he knows.”

She cocks her head to the side, ponytail arcing through the air. The men are powerless to watching it float softly in the air. “And what makes you so sure that he is going to tell me what he knows? Isn’t the point of being a security guard that he keeps things, ya know, secure?”

You were banking on him being a sucker for tits, but she has a point.

You worry your lip between your teeth as you try to think of more leverage to convince her. Bob quirks a smirk - it’s been over a decade since he saw you do that before coming up with the winning idea at the science fair. Just like he trusted your prowess then, he knows you can motivate your friend to help. But it’s again Mickey who shamelessly jumps in for Cassie’s attention.

“I’d tell you my bank account PIN for a smile from you. Throw in a wink and Seresin will probably tell you how to break into the bank yourself.”

She gives him a hard look before exploding in laughter, her face warm and glowing under the florescent light. “Oh, Fanboy, you are smooth as ever.” She pauses, rolling a salt shaker between her palms. “Alright, I’ll at least try to talk to him. But if it blows up you all owe me double tips.”

Your fingers tingle as you feel the investigation finally take a positive turn.

From the back, Chef Jerry calls out for ‘Danielle’ and your friend gets up to leave, brushing the wrinkles out of her apron over her baby pink uniform. She promises to meet you in the morning at the diner before the bank opens. Then the interrogation begins.

Not ordering anything, your group heads toward the door to get some sleep after a long day. Just as the slick-haired waitress is about to disappear into the kitchen, Bob calls the name on her name tag. She raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows in interest.

His cheeks are pink. “Not to be, uh, forward, but it’s probably in the best interest that you wear something…lower cut? If we’re trying to honeypot the information out of him? Yeah?” He looks to you and Mickey for backup. Mickey tentatively nodding. You have the same face as when you found out gangly, bespectacled Bob Floyd lost his virginity junior year.The man has big ol’ balls when he needs them.

But the waitress laughs and agrees, shimmying her cleavage a little and cackling harder when Mickey turns scarlet. These boys are too easy. 

You usher them out of the diner before they can do anything else. In the parking lot, you make them promise like good kids to meet you at the diner and be ready for a long day of investigating. When you finally turn on your heel and start the walk home to your fretful mother and exasperated father, Mickey lets out a sigh of relief.

“That girl needs to take a chill pill. We are professionals.”

The next morning you could feel your under eyes on the ground. You’d slept like shit, replaying the past twenty-four hours in your head over and over again. How could a day change your life so drastically?

It was a blessing that your dad was asleep when you got home and already at the station when you got up. In a world of consistencies, you could always bank on him being out the door by seven.

You slung on a band shirt that had seen better days and slipped out of the house unnoticed. You’d have to answer to some questions from your mother when you arrived home, but the last thing you needed was that right now.

The walk into town was short - the benefits of a town the size of a postage stamp - and before you finished reviewing all the evidence from the day before you realized there were two familiar figures standing outside that dusky pink apartment complex your dad said contained more meth than tenants.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the police captain’s daughter.” You elbow Mickey in the side. It’s almost weird to see them twice in twenty-four hours - practically back to being school children again. 

You look at the half-drained kidney-shaped pool behind the gate. “You two still living in this dump?” The shrugs you get in response are enough to remind you there’s a reason you’re an assistant bank manager and not a sleuth. The paycheck.

As if planned and not a coincidence, the sleuths take up stride beside you and join your journey toward the diner. And you’re glad for the company, as Bob listing all the horror-inducing things about that pink apartment building keeps your spirits up.

It’s well before the bank opens, but when you pass the town square there’s a small group gathered - shouting and bullhorns blaring for so early on a Monday morning.

Even though your timing is pressing to meet Cassie, you can’t help but detour. Squeezing between fellow town residents and shooting your best police captain’s daughter smile, it’s not hard to get to the front of the crowd and see what’s causing all the fuss. But considering the movie theater renovation was now indefinitely on hold, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

Ever since the renovation had been announced at a city council meeting, all the crazies had come out of the woodwork. Historians with their own opinions and businesses with their own agendas. But the loudest out of all the chatter had been the relentless public discourse between Amy Albert (CEO of Albert Electronics, supporting half the jobs in town) and Hazel Groveman (local historian and environmentalist). 

You’d seen the posters and mail inserts for months. Albert wanting nothing more than to put up a giant cineplex that would bring in more jobs, more visitors, more money. And Groveman preaching nothing but the importance of preserving history. There was a rumour that Thomas Edison himself had seen a flick or two back when it was just a measly nickelodeon.

You know that rumor is bullshit and your great granddad made it up during a drunken night at the station, but Hazel Groveman isn’t privy to your Thanksgiving conversations.

Up on the erected stage, the two women stand ferociously, already shouting at each other before anyone’s morning coffee sets in. Groveman pushes her greying bush of hair from her face as she accuses Albert of petty crimes. Everyone knows Albert Electronics was mad the restoration was chosen over the cineplex. Her competition yells through glossed lips that Groveman massively underestimated the cost of the restoration and the money isn’t gone, the city simply couldn’t face the embarrassment of needing more money. It’s ugly, the way they go for each others throats verbally.

Beside you, both Bob and Mickey are fidgeting, wishing they had ditched you to head to the diner instead of watching this blood bath.

Tearing your eyes from the public fight, you notice Vaughn Carmichael standing off to the side. This definitely isn’t his office and surely he has better things to do on a work day. But he observes the two women with mild interest and a sleazy smile, making your skin crawl at whatever perverted pleasure he’s getting from watching. What a creep.

You shoot his assistant Natasha a smile - what an angel to keep that job - before realizing you’re definitely running late. The two women are still out for blood as they fight over what should happen now that the city can’t fund the restoration. Your stomach turns and you grab the men by their jackets to leave. 

This is why you’re up before noon on your day off. You’re going to find that money. 

When your friend’s shiny hair and wide smile are in view, that feeling of hope returns. You’re going to get Jake Seresin to talk. You’re going to figure this out. You’re going to find that money and save the town and your job and finally buy that Kinks album.

And it all comes down to the one-size-too-small v-neck that Cassie picked out especially for today.

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[bluefirewrites]

Blue's Ultimate JATP Tumblr Masterpost

Hey guys, it's been a while! Been combing through my blog and realized I wrote a lot of fun ficlets over the years (mostly AU's and mostly Juke). It's probably hard to find all of them without a lil' help. Below is a masterlist of all the Tumblr drabbles I've made for Julie and the Phantoms

*- requests/asks; appropriate warnings will be in posts; ♡- favorites of mine Any AU is a Juke AU

50's AU (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) ♡

Angel and Demon/ Good Omens AU

Baby Driver AU (Part 1) (Part 2)

Celebrity Fake Dating AU

Celebrity/Fan AU*

Celebrity Neighbor AU*

Desk Pen Pals AU*

Church/Youth Group Leaders AU (Part 1) (Part 2)*

College AU* (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Con Artist/ Leverage AU (Part 1) (Part 2)

Diner AU

Enchanted AU ♡

Florist AU (Part 1) (Part 2)♡

Halloweentown AU

Hero/Villain Roommates AU *

High School Theater AU*

Hologram/ Pixel Perfect AU (Part 1) (Part 2)

Imaginary Friends/Pen Pals AU (Part 1) (Part 2)

Jam Skater AU

Josie and The Pussycats AU

Knowledgeable Local AU*

Lip Synch Battle AU

Long Distance AU* ♡

Mall AU ♡

Met in the Back of A Cop Car (also full fic on AO3) ♡

Prince Protection Program AU (Part 1) (Part 2) ♡

Pizza Delivery Boy AU*

Prostitute/Client AU*

Record Store AU

Sense8 AU

Space Opera/Body Swap AU

Speed Racer AU

Stranded on Island/ Flight 29 Down AU ♡

Uber Driver AU

Wayne AU

We Bought a Zoo AU ♡

Western AU (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Willex AU

Con Artist/Leverage AU (Part 4) Petal Palace/ Handyman AU Traveling Pants AU (Part 1) (Part 2) ♡

In-Universe Juke

Angsty Juke

Back to the 1991/ Time Travel

Caleb's Dream Spell ♡

Emily Gifts Julie Luke's Guitar* ♡

First I Love You*

Juke Kisses*

Julie's Unfinished Business*

Luke Follows Julie Around School ♡

Music Lessons

Prom Night

They Still Can't Touch?

While You Sleep (also full fic on AO3)

Wicked Beauty

In-Universe Willex

Alex and Willie Adopt a Ghost Child* (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Alex Braid Willie's Hair

Alex: The King of Hugs*

The First Kiss* ♡

Willie LOVES Drummers

Willex Hugs*

General Drabbles

Alive!Mama Rose and Alive! Sunset Curve* (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Julie Crosses Over* ♡

Julie's Sacrifice ♡

Luke's Birthday Candles*

Ray Molina and the Casseroles

Rose's Deal with Caleb* ♡

Rose and the Petal Pushers (own masterpost about Rose Molina's band) ♡

[ambroziadelphine]

My Personal Addiction (Geto Suguru x Reader) Prologue

Masterlist

If you had asked me how my day would've gone, I'd have told you I'd have spent the day sleeping or something.

Not suddenly falling off a cliff with my best friend while high as a kite!

"I'm going to fucking kill you if we survive this!" I yelled at her over our screams.

"I'm sorry! I'm not the one who wanted to look over the cliffside!" She screamed back making me scoff.

"Just grab my hand! At least I'll die with you, you bitch!" I called as I tried reaching out to her, her arm stretching to do the same when all of a sudden, we passed something and she was gone. Like the trees and rocky mountain ground that was slowly coming into view before vanished with it, turning to the sky as I suddenly paused in my fall before almost feeling like my world had turned upside down, falling again making me scream as I squeezed my eyes shut. No, instead of falling to a familiar place for my death, I was actually falling into what looked like a different forest in the middle of nowhere! I fell through the branches, yelping and wincing as they scraped by me, leaves tangling in my hair as I tried desperately to grab onto something before I hit the ground with a thump, letting out a groan of pain as I stood up, stumbling as I realized I was still in fact tripping from the psilocybin the two of us had taken earlier. I winced and pulled the branches and leaves from my hair, dusting myself off and picking up my bag that had fallen with me when I suddenly heard the sound of fighting as I froze. I could barely register as my legs seemed to move on their own, taking me closer to the noise as my anxiety grew.

I came out into a field where a giant beast stood fighting two men. It looked ghastly, like a disgusting deformed dinosaur got mixed with a very ugly baby; I couldn't help the disgusted frown on my face as I stared at him, before another, smaller one appeared and the white haired man started to fight that one. My eyes widen as I almost felt like my heart stopped. That's.. That's Gojo Satoru..

The actual Gojo? How?

Wait.

Geto?!

I looked at the black haired man, watching as he threw curses at the giant beast, dodging it as it tried to stomp one of its big clawed feet on him. I watched in shock as I tried to process what I was seeing. Was I dead? Was this me dreaming of an afterlife? No. Otherwise Kali would be here with me, and she's definitely not hiding considering she was wearing bright fucking orange. I could only watch as the two Jujutsu sorcerer's fought against what I now knew was a giant curse, which explained its grotesque appearance and the chill I felt in the air even after exiting the shade of the trees. I was about to take a step back, feeling I may be getting too close when it clawed through Geto's cursed spirit, trapping his under it's foot as it made a move to swipe making my eyes widen. I quickly looked around, seeing a good sized rock on the ground and groaning internally, a tingling feeling coming over my body like a shiver. Please don't hate me legs.

"Hey, you fat ugly lizard bitch!" I yelled, throwing the rock as hard as I could, it managed to hit pretty high as it hit it's ear. The curse paused before turning to look at me as my eyes widened. "Uh oh." I muttered, sprinting off as it tried to bring a hand down on me, smashing it's clawed fist into the earth, giving Geto the chance to escape from under it. I ran as fast as I could, my blood pumping in my ears as I dodged another one of it's fists.

"Can't touch this, bitch!" I screamed, juking it as I ran around it's fist, confusing it for a moment as I ran the opposite way of it, slipping right between its giant legs with ease as I looked through the path I had just gone. It let out an angry screech before turning around, its massive feet making the earth almost rumble; I dared to look back, seeing it right behind me when suddenly Geto's Rainbow Dragon flew into it, hitting it square in the chest making me grin, laughing as I continued to run away, not before sticking my tongue out at the monster.

"Stay back!" Geto said as he pulled me behind him, I couldn't help the blush on my face as he grabbed my wrist. Damn these anime men for being so fucking hot. Gojo seemed to have just finished with the other one when he came over to us, looking at Geto with a grin.

"Saw you got a little tied down there. You're not hurt, are you Suguru?" Gojo teased, Geto snickered and glanced at him.

"Fortunately not. Though I did have a bit of help." He said, glancing back at me making Gojo give a curious hum.

"Oh? And who are you?" He asked making me roll my eyes.

"Someone who is currently freaking the fuck out considering this is the first time I've ever seen something like that! Care to help out, frosty?" I asked sarcastically making Geto laugh, Gojo's face dropping at my tone.

"My name is not frosty!" He said making me grin.

"Get me out of here and I'll never call you frosty again, deal?" I asked him, he smirked and scoffed.

"Better pick a better nickname then." He said, turning back to the monster as they both charged, attacking together as I watched the epic scene in front of me, calmly sitting on the grass as I watched. It wasn't too long before Geto had the cursed spirit condensed into an black and brown orb, Gojo starting to walk back to me after making Geto high five him. His long legs made quick work of the distance, Geto close behind as I stood up. "Think of a better nickname for me, pretty lady?" The white haired man asked making me put on a thinking face before grinning.

"Well, I was thinking 'knock off Kakashi Hatake', but that's a little too long to say." I laughed, his shoulders slouching as he sulked.

"I think I liked Frosty better." He sulked, Geto chuckling as he put a hand on his shoulder.

"Not every woman will like your.. charm, Satoru." He said, before he turned to me and gave a small bow. "Thank you for what you did earlier. I understand seeing something like that may be hard to believe but I appreciate your bravery." He said making me look at him before shrugging.

"Truthfully, I've seen weirder. More so I was freaking out at the fact I just had to literally run for my life; I never imagined myself running away from death." I said, putting my hands in my pockets as I looked off to the side, missing their confused and curious looks the two shared. Then I remembered I should probably act like I have no idea what's going on. "So, what was that thing? I don't think I've ever heard about something like that." I said, looking back at them as Geto sighed, Gojo now looking bored with the conversation.

"That was a cursed spirit. Normally people without cursed energy can't see them.. but somehow you can." He said, his eyes looking over me curiously causing me to blush.

"Can you not stare at me like that? You're making me feel like I should be in a circus." I muttered as I crossed my arms, shifting on my feet as I looked away. Gojo grinned, Geto looking slightly embarrassed but nodded.

"Right, I apologize." He said, bowing his head slightly. "I didn't intend to be rude.. It's just, highly uncommon, for a non curse user to see curses so easily like you did." He explained making me raise a brow.

"Curse user? You make it sound like a video game." I said lightly, rubbing my arm as I realize the situation I was in. I was in Japan, a foreign country, with no one who knows who I am, or where I could go. Geto gave a closed eye smile and looked down, nodding a little.

"It does sound like that, I guess." He said, Gojo let out a small groan, like a child told to go to bed when it was still light out.

"Enough flirting! You'll have enough time for that when we get back to Jujutsu High." He complained, Geto and I's faces turning pink as we looked away from each other.

"I wasn't flirting!" Geto muttered to him, the white haired man rolling his eyes.

"You're right. You weren't, because that was terrible if it was." He said, I crossed my arms and stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, and you think you could do any better?" I asked him, he turned to me and smirked.

"Why not see for yourself?" He asked, his sunglasses tilting down to reveal his bright blue eyes, a small smirk on his face making me sigh lightly.

"Sorry, you're not my type." I said, seeing him deflate again as Geto laughed.

"Alright, I think we should actually go now though." He said, gently grabbing my wrist as he and Gojo lead me out of the forest, a car parked on the side of the road waiting for us, though the driver seemed very surprised at the new person. Soon we were off on the long drive back, my adrenaline wearing off as I felt the days exhaustion catching up to me.

"I guess I can cross almost dying twice in one day off my bucket list." I mumbled, Geto looking at me in slight concern.

"Twice?" He asked, making me sigh and lean my head back on the seat as I sat between the two boys, my bag at my feet.

"Well, I didn't exactly walk into that forest." I said, Gojo turning to me suddenly.

"I was wondering how you got there! We were hours away from the closest town." He said making me chuckle before sighing.

"Yea, well, it's not like I really know either." I said, looking at my hands as my bangs covered my eyes.

"What happened?" Geto asked softly, I glanced at him and sighed.

"My friend Kali had convinced me to take a trip to the mountains with her for an internet detox week. Long story short, third day in we went hiking and ended up accidentally falling off a cliff. Next thing I know, I landed in that forest and found you guys fighting." I explained, remembering the very strange near death experience I had not even 2 hours ago. "Kali fell off the cliff with me.. She didn't land with me though.." I muttered, worry setting in for my best friend. If she's dead I swear, when I see her in Hell, I'm lavaboarding her.

"That is very odd.." Geto said, before sighing as he closed his eyes. "You are just a walking mystery so far." He said making me chuckle, closing my eyes again.

"Yea, well this walking mystery, is named Evee Landon. Incase you wanted to know." I said, chuckling as he seemed to realize his mistake, giving a slightly nervous chuckle.

"Well, Evee, I am Geto Suguru, and this is Gojo Satoru." He said, Glancing at him to see his warm smile, Gojo looked about ready to pass out making me chuckle.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you Geto. Even if I wish is was under better circumstances." I said, closing my eyes once more as he looked at me.

"But then you wouldn't have gotten to save Suguru like a damsel in distress." Gojo said, I smacked him, not even looking to see how I hit him.

"Begone thot. I thought you were asleep." I said, hearing a chuckle from Geto as I cracked an eye open, seeing Gojo actually rubbing his head in pain as I saw I had also knocked off his glasses.

"And I thought I still had my infinity activated." He muttered, Geto looking at him in surprise.

"Wait, she managed to actually touch you with it up?" He asked, looking down at me as I shrugged.

"Great, now the song Infinity is stuck in my head. Thanks a lot, Yoyo." I said, he looked at me offended as Geto let out a loud laugh.

"What did you just call me?!" Gojo exclaimed, glaring at me as I chuckled.

"I could do JoJo from JoJo's bizarre adventures." I suggested, his face dropping even more as Geto started to laugh again, putting a hand on my shoulder as he tried to contain his laughter.

"I think you've given him enough nicknames so far." He chuckled making me grin.

"I guess you're right." I said, looking up at the roof of the car with a smug smile on my face. "Now I just need to think of some for you." I said, glancing at him seeing his face slightly dreading whatever I may come up with causing me to giggle.

"I won't make them insulting like his are." I informed, seeing him slightly relax, smiling slightly as the ride continued in silence. Eventually falling asleep as my tired bones ached from both the fall and running, my head ended up resting on Geto's shoulder which I knew was probably inappropriate considering we just met, but I was honestly way too tired to give a fuck. Which is how I fell asleep just like that, not noticing the blush on Geto's face or the smirk Gojo held, his eyes watching the little display with a plan forming in his head.

Evee may not like him, but his best friend on the other hand…

[strangethings-everywhere]

Before You Go // Ethan Landry // Ch.2

Masterlist Word Count: 1277 Warnings: swearing, depictions of violence and harm, trauma Author's note: I've written so much of this fic already and it's been two days, I am on a ROLL

After moving to New York with your friends after the Woodsboro killings, you try to leave all of it behind you and start over. You become friends with Ethan Landry, but after Ghostface returns, you start to become suspicious of everyone, especially him.

Turns out you weren’t the only one who had an encounter with Ghostface in the forty-eight hours after the frat party. You had gone to the sleepover at the Carpenter’s apartment and decided to skip class the next day, electing to stay in your room watching Golden Girls. 

Tara and Sam had barely made it out of a bodega alive after seeing Ghostface on the street. Not only that, your film teacher had been gutted in an alley by one of your classmates. 

Mindy and Anika had dragged you out to the quad for a mandatory meeting, but you could barely concentrate on what they were saying. Your body felt numb and your hands hadn’t stopped shaking since your conversation with Ghostface. Memories of your last encounter with the faceless killer kept flooding your mind despite your best attempts to forget. 

The three of you were the last ones to arrive. Sam and Tara looked exhausted, Quinn and Chad were bickering about something, and Ethan was scrolling on his phone. You sat next to Ethan, who gave you a small smile. 

“Listen up nerds, as terrifying as it is, I’m glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time.” Mindy stood in front of the group with a determined look on her face. You let out a sigh; it was time to hear the rules once again. “The way I see it, they’re making a sequel to the requel.” 

“What’s a requel?” Anika asked. Mindy shook her head.

“You’re beautiful, save the questions for the end.” 

“Hold on.” You raised a hand. “Are they trying to copy the movies now?” 

“Yes, that makes sense. We are in college now.” Mindy nodded. “Y/N, you know what I’m talking about.” 

You stood. “Well, let’s think about this. This isn’t just a sequel anymore.” 

“Wait why?” Tara asked.

“This is a mother effing franchise.” You began to pace back and forth. “Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger EVERYTHING. I mean Tara and Sam just got chased through the streets of NYC and he shot up a fucking bodega. This is more violent, more bloody. They need to make a statement.” 

“Yes, exactly!” Mindy clapped. “We’ve got new characters to round out the suspect list or the body count,” she pointed at Ethan, Quinn, and Anika, “and now legacy characters are expendable, brought in just to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It’s not looking good for Kirby or Gale. Even…” 

Everyone turned and looked at Tara and Sam. “Guys,” You took a deep breath. “Even Tara and Sam aren’t safe anymore. Anyone could go.” 

“Wait,” Ethan glanced up at you. “Am I in the friend group?”

“Yeah.” Mindy nodded. 

“Am I a target?”

“Mhmm.”

“Am I… am I gonna die a virgin?”

You snorted and Chad gave him a weird look. “This also means that you newbies are automatically on the suspect list.” 

“Why am I a suspect? Just because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan looked offended. 

“No offense, but the roommate lotteries can be juked.” You shrugged and took a seat next to him. “We’ve just got to cover all our bases.” 

As Mindy continued tearing into the others, you tried to steady your hands and breathing. Despite your extensive knowledge of horror films, knowing the rules for surviving a slasher movie never boosted your confidence. You all knew the rules last time and it didn’t make a difference. 

“Y/N?” Your head snapped up at Ethan’s voice. Mindy had finished her spiel and the others were getting up to go their various ways. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, this just fucking sucks.” You let out a shaky sigh. “I really hoped it was over.” 

Ethan slowly took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure it’ll be okay. You beat him once before, you can do it again.” 

“I just hate that he keeps coming back. I’m just so scared.” You could feel a sob building up in your throat. “I barely made it the last time and I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.” 

“Can I, uh, can I ask what happened to you, last time?” 

It was the night of Amber’s party and you were having a great time. Unfortunately, you were also standing in the living room when Amber pulled out a gun and shot Liv in the head. After that, everything went to shit. 

You ran as fast as you could up the stairs and dove into one of the bedrooms, locking the door behind you. You could hear someone on the stairs and you desperately began searching for something to protect yourself. 

“Y/N, where are youuuuuuu?” Ghostface called, his scratchy voice filling your body with terror. “I’m coming to kill you first!” 

“Shit.” You took one of the chairs and shoved it under the doorknob, then slid under the bed with a pair of scissors from the nearby desk. Time seemed to slow down as you listened for Ghostface, your heart beating faster and faster. 

Something hit the door and you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying desperately to muffle your cry. Ghostface kicked the door again and again until the chair fell and hit the ground with a bang. 

“I know you’re in here.” You watched as his boots stepped into the room. You began to shake, tears streaming down your cheeks. “C’mon Y/N, come out and play.” 

Suddenly, a hand closed around your ankles and yanked you out from under the bed. It was Richie, a sadistic grin painted on his face as he lunged at you with a knife. You let out a scream and plunged the scissors into his shoulder as hard as you could. 

“OW, FUCKING BITCH!” Richie bellowed and stabbed the knife into your hip. 

Pain washed over your body as Richie continued to stab you over and over. You screamed as loud as you could and tried to kick him off, but he was stronger than you. Finally, you slammed your knee in between his legs, managing to distract him long enough to escape. You pulled yourself to your feet and ran. 

“HELP!” You wailed, nearly falling down the stairs. Blood soaked your clothes and skin, pain radiating through you with every step. You could see Sidney in the foyer and she ran to you. “It’s Richie and Amber, he tried to kill me.” 

“I know sweetie, it’ll be okay.” Sidney wrapped her arm around you and pulled you to the front porch. “Stay outside, I’ll take care of them.” 

When the ambulance arrived, you were lying in a pool of your own blood, barely conscious. You had been stabbed twelve times in the legs, hips, and abdomen. It was a miracle that you and Chad had made it out alive. If they had been any later, you would’ve bled out and died. 

By the time you finished your story, your cheeks were wet with tears. It had been a while since you’d told anyone what had happened to you. A twinge of pain radiated from your left side, where most of your scars were. Every once in a while, the wounds would ache. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry that happened.” Ethan wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you gladly leaned into his embrace. “I won’t let that happen to you again.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” you sniffled, “you’re a good friend.” 

He smiled. “Of course. Friends don’t let friends get attacked by Ghostface.” 

Despite everything, you believed him. Nothing would happen to you while Ethan was around and for once, you felt a little safer.

[lxvejohnny]

the endless beginning

part ten

scream VI fanfiction with implied ethan x oc!

find the masterlist for this fic here. she is long and painful. enjoy!

That smile, that damned smile, was all too bright considering what he had just done. Amelie’s jaw drops as her eyes demand tears to her waterline again. She felt her heart break into thousands of little pieces, and she is sure that everyone else heard it as it shattered on the ground in front of them. This feeling of betrayal was all too familiar for her, and she wants to scream, yell at Ethan, yell at the detective, yell at the last unmasked Ghostface for what they have done to her. She wants to scream until her voice is raw and gone, hoping that someone can hear her frustration from outside of the city and come save her. She wants everyone around her, especially Ethan, to feel how angry she is about this whole situation, how she feels like her body is on fire and all she can see is red.

“What the fuck?” Amelie mutters in shock but the boy can’t bring his eyes to look at the expression on her face. He knows it will hurt, he knows he will falter, and he can’t. Not now.

“Mindy was right,” his smile doesn’t fade from his face as he continues to talk, but his gaze shifts between Sam and Tara, never making it to Amelie’s. His heart was beating faster than it was before; this was the moment, and he has been dreading it since the day he met Amelie. If he looked at her, he would break and he needed to do this. “It was easy to juke the roommate lottery. I mean, all I had to do to meet you was room with the conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad!”

Amelie was disgusted. Chad was his friend, Chad trusted him.

“Fuck, it felt good to kill him!”

He was a psychopath, no real emotion had to have ever floundered through his body. Amelie wants to sob, she wants to throw up, and she wants to punch him, hurt him like he did to her.  Like he did to Chad.

“This was your grandmas, Sam; Nancy Loomis,” Ethan continues as he holds up his bloody knife and points it to his Ghostface mask in his other hand. His smile falters from his face as he continues to speak. “Really runs in the fucking family, doesn’t it?”

“Speaking of family…” the detective trails off, letting Ethan jump in again. The smile creeps back onto his sickening face and Ethan takes his que.

“My name’s not Ethan Landry, isn’t it dad?” Ethan turns to his dad, and they share a sick smile at each other. Amelie feels like her breathe got knocked from her chest again and her brain falters. Of course, his name wasn’t even his fucking name. Ethan Landry was a person Amelie wanted to love so bad, wanted to kiss and be held by, but this Ethan in front of her isn’t him. He is a psychopath who has been lying to her, to all of them this whole time.

“Dad?” Amelie almost shouts at him. Her jaw remains ajar and her eyes wide at the scene in front of her. She watches as the detective brushes the hair on Ethan’s forehead, chuckling as he does, visibly proud of his son. Ethan finally brings his eyes to Amelie’s and his smile drops from his face. He knows it was a bad idea to look at her, but he had to, he needed to see her face. The anger and betrayal on her face was almost enough to make him want to take back everything he said, and just reassure he that he still likes her so much, that he would never physically hurt her. Amelie tries to distinguish what emotions are swirling through Ethan’s eyes when they finally make contact with hers, but she can’t look past the pure evil that lays in them.

"I was always dreading this part, you know?" His tone could almost fool her to believe that he actually cares. "I never wanted you a part of this."

"I have always been a part of this, Ethan!" If that even was his name. She is so hurt, so angry that her stomach churns every time he even opens his mouth. His eyes soften the longer he looks at her and she genuinely thinks he is fucking crazy.

"Yeah, well, it almost screwed us over," Wayne jumps in, watching the longing gazes between his son and Amelie. Amelie finally looks away from Ethan when she hears another voice, confused by the detectives words. "My boy here-" patting Ethan's shoulder as he talks, "was starting to get a bit too sensitive. Trying to protect you from us..."

Wayne lets out a sadistic chuckle, looking back at his son with a smile that made Amelie feel even more sick. "...from him."

"Fuck you!" Amelie spits at the man. The smile never falters from his face and Amelie has never wanted to punch someone so bad. She knows her words mean nothing when these people are literal monsters.

"You know, if you weren't such a vital piece of this mission, you would make one hell of a killer," for once, she could possibly believe his words. Because right now she wants nothing more than to kill this man in front of her. Wayne's tone remains condescending, his ego far too large. Their current situation making him believe that he has succeeded. "But you aren't one; after all, you are too much like your dad."

"You know nothing about my dad!" Amelie is furious. She pushes past Sam's defensive arm but the two sisters grab her arms, making sure she doesn't get too close. Her hand gripping the brick so tight that her knuckles turn white.

Amelie looks back over to Ethan where his gaze was awaiting hers. She knows that they probably heard all about her dad through the movies, the books, the news, history, but she is sure that Ethan spilled his big mouth when she opened up to him.

"Dad," Ethan says in a warning tone. He knows how bad talking about her dad hurts her, and he can't keep watching it. His irritation only growing with his father as he talks to Amelie the way he is.

Sam finally quips him, drawing the attention away from Amelie.

“Wait, so, if it’s you two, that just leaves…” Sam trails off as she looks over to the last masked Ghostface and can’t help but think the worse. “…Mindy?”

“No, no, no, I saw her get stabbed,” Amelie says, her voice broken, and she has barely even talked yet. She peels her watering eyes away from Ethan and turns to also look at the last masked figure. She knows the only person left was Mindy, but it can’t be Mindy, there was no way.

“Hey roomies,” Quinn reveals herself and Amelie gasps. Both Tara and Sam widen their eyes and their mouths remain open as they stare in awe at the girl who they thought was dead. “Didn’t see that one coming, did ya?”

“Yeah because you died-“ Tara shouts at Quinn. The three girls can’t believe that they let themselves live with her, with a person who is trying to kill them. They all grieved her when they thought she died, Amelie felt the weight of her dead body on her and yet here she was, fine in front of her.

“-I kind of didn’t though, it was a good way to get off the suspect list,” Quinn talks so casually that it scares Amelie, way more than she was before. Ethan, nor Quinn, were who they said they were and she can’t believe that she let herself be so foolish for letting them into her lives so easily, thinking everything was going to be different this time. “Stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train-“

Quinn turns to look at Amelie and glares into her eyes as she continues, “-almost, get you on the train. That sort of thing.”

Amelie scoffs as Quinn continues to look murderously into her eyes. She had so many questions, and she wasn’t quite sure where to even begin.

“Yep, and I just needed to get first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one; a little fake blood, a prosthetic. You’d be amazed at what a grieving father can get away with,” detective Bailey explains to the girls in front of him. As he continues, his two kids separate and surround the three in the middle. Quinn finally shows her mask and lets the girls know she got Stu Macher’s mask, saying something about how he was her favorite. Amelie’s eyes turn to Quinn’s and she glares at the girl. Stu was the one who reportedly killed her aunt Tatum, and now the girl who is trying to kill her, idolizes him. How fucking sick, she thought.

Amelie’s eyes finally turn around back to Bailey’s when she hears him about to explain the mask he was wearing. She stands on the opposite side of Sam, closest to Ethan and sees Bailey pull his mask out from his coat.

“This leaves your fathers, this is what we’ve been counting down to, Sam,” he only looks at Sam as he talks and begins to hand the mask closer to the older girl. “I’m gonna need you to put it on.”

“Fuck you!” Sam looks at the mask hard before shoving it out of her way and onto the ground. Amelie, from beside Sam, feels an arm reach out in front of her and push her backwards. She stumbles and catches herself on one of the glass displays beside her. She watches as Ethan swiftly pushed himself across the display he was across and swipes his other hand out at Sam, slicing her arm with his knife. He pushed her back to get her out of the way so he could get to Sam. Amelie’s eyes widen as she is now directly across Ethan himself and she stumbles her feet back, to get away from being so close to him. Ethan looks at her after he mocks Sam, making sure she was okay but is only disheartened when he watches her try to scramble away from him. She stands beside Tara as her eyes stay connected to his.

“You stay the fuck away from her!” Tara screams at him and she grabs onto Sam.

“Oh, come on,” Quinn moans out of complaint and Amelie turns to look at the girl. Tara pulls on Amelie’s arm to bring her in closer to them. Amelie furrows her eyebrows at Quinn and the redhead only glares further at Amelie. She shakes her head in question at Quinn, “what?”

“What?!” Quinn shouts at Amelie and points her knife at her. Ethan takes notice of his sister’s advancements and approaches her. “You! Is what!”

“Yeah?” Amelie only looks even more confused at Quinn, the girl has some issue with her and she isn’t quite sure what she did to deserve her hate. Amelie is scared, she can’t deny that, but she is also angry and figures that any question she may have had, now would be the chance to ask. “You were on the train, right? Why the hell did you say I was lucky?”

“Because, Amelie,” Quinn says her name in sickeningly sweet tone and doesn’t even blink as she stays focused on the girl in front of her. “I could never hurt you!”

“Ethan here-“ Quinn turns to her brother who is now beside her, looking at her with a hard expression on his face. “-wouldn’t fucking allow it! His stupid, little crush made him so protective over you that he begged us to not touch you…”

Amelie’s head is fuzzy once again and she feels like it was possible that Ethan did like her at one point. She still hates him, but Quinn is making her believe that Ethan was genuine at some point of their little relationship. Her eyes can’t stop shifting between Ethan who is looking at her with another unreadable expression and Quinn who looks ready to murder her.

“…In fact, he made us promise him that we wouldn’t. So, I went for Mindy on the train but god, Amie,” the tone in Quinn’s voice is back when she says her name again, like poison in her mouth. Quinn starts smiling at the girl and Amelie can only look at her as she continues, her heartbeat racing faster as she talks. “I could have got you; I could have finally killed you right then and there.”

“But you didn’t,” Amelie says pointedly, a small smirk almost apparent on her face and Quinn visibly doesn’t like that very much as her lip snarls even further. She was about to play with fire, and would it work out for her? Amelie was sure that it wouldn’t, but she saw her chance to take power back from Quinn and she needed to do it. “You backed off like a little bitch, because your little brother told you to.”

“Fuck you!” Quinn screams in her face and reaches forward to stab her knife into Amelie’s shoulder, the same side that Quinn sliced into on the train. Amelie gasps and reaches to hold her shoulder. Ethan yells his sisters name and pulls her shoulder back; he knows she angers easily but he told her not to hurt Amelie. He knew better than to believe that she would listen to him, anyways. They never did get along that well after becoming revenge seeking killers. Tara grabs harder onto Amelie’s arm and pulls her even closer to her and Sam after that.

“You bitch!” Amelie shouts at her as she clutches onto her bleeding shoulder, searing pain shooting throughout her whole left arm. “That’s why you hate me so much? Because Ethan liked me?”

Ethan catches the use past tense in her sentence and wants to cut her off, let her know that he still does like her, so much, but Quinn beats him to it.

“No, you stupid bitch!” Quinn screams at Amelie once again and Amelie can almost feel the heat radiating off of the girl, her anger bright like her hair.

“So, what? You did this as a family?” Sam looks around the three and cuts in. She pulls Amelie closer to her when she notices Quinn step closer to them again.

“Yeah, bitch, you should know better than anyone,” Quinn snarls at Sam and her knife stays pointed out at them, tauntingly.

“They’re still not getting it,” Ethan smiles amusingly and looks at the girls in front of him. Amelie clutches tighter onto her shoulder and blood begins to flow between her fingers holding the wound.

“Getting what?” Amelie asks Ethan. She was still so confused, and she was sure that both the sisters were to at this point. They were hinting at something, clearly their motive, but none of them could figure out what they were talking about.

“Look, I don’t know what you believe, but I didn’t commit those murders in Woodsboro! It wasn’t me!” Sam shakes her head furiously in denial as she tries to defend herself. That was the only possible reasoning that Sam could think of, but they knew that she wasn’t the one to commit those murders.

“No, we know that. Of course, you didn’t, what do you think this is based on? Some bullshit conspiracy?” Bailey replies back to Sam. “Come on, who do you think started those rumors about you in the first place?”

Quinn raises her knife equipped hand as her dad points to her. Amelie lets out a scoff in disbelief that they went that far ahead with their whole plan. The three turn their heads back around to Quinn as she begins to speak.

“Do you know how easy it was to turn Sam from the hero of Woodsboro, into the villain? How easy it is to convince the world to believe the worst in people, rather than the best?” Quinn shakes violently as she talks.

“Because it’s not enough to just kill someone these days. You have to assassinate their character first, so when dad here, discovers that your horribly mutilated body-“ Quinn takes a teasing jump at Amelie with her knife pointed and she gasps, pushing herself back in defense at the supposed attack. Quinn merely smirks at the girl before letting her brother continue, “-wearing her father’s mask, they’ll say some poor dumb bastard wrote on the internet that you’re the real Ghostface and took matters into their own, diluted hands.”

“You're fucking crazy!” Amelie speaks her thoughts immediately after Ethan finishes, shaking her head in disbelief at his words. He looks down at the girl, hurt at her words, though he expects nothing less. He knows he is hurting her, he expected this, but her reactions still wound him. Amelie couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, their plan to accuse Sam after they kill her just angering her further.  

“Shut up!” Quinn snaps at the girl. Ethan would be quick to defend his name if it were anyone else insulting him, but he just couldn't find the courage to when it was Amelie. He would let her shit on his name ever single day if that meant she would still talk to him. He would do anything to keep her around, keep her his.

“Exactly! That’s why it’s a perfect alibi. And all the best lies, are based on the truth. You’re a killer-“ Bailey points at Sam, “-just like your father.”

“No, I’m not!” Sam screams furiously at Bailey. Her conscious about her father has bothered her since the day she has found out about him and she was not going to have this psychopath tell her, her worst thoughts.

“And you…” Bailey turns to Amelie and points at her next. “...are going to be Sam’s accomplice, before turning into her next victim-“

“-What the fuck?” Amelie mutters at his ludicrous idea.

“You, still mad about what happened last year to your dad, are blinded by rage and are convinced under Sam’s manipulation to join her. She becomes like her dad and you seek revenge for yours-“

“What the fuck?!” Amelie shouts this time. Sam continues to shake her head beside Amelie and mutters no’s as Bailey talks.

“-before Sam becomes too much like her father, too consumed by the bloodlust, and slices you all up. Just like how your dad died,” Bailey finishes letting the girls know his scheme and Amelie can’t believe that he had planned all of this so far ahead, so thoroughly. She turns to Ethan where he looks both angry and confused. Almost as if this was the first time he heard of this plan, but he has experience in this act. He has done nothing but pretend around her and their friends.

“What are you talking about?” Ethan just about turns and asks his dad. He sounded angry, and he was, because he wasn’t told this plan. He was told the whole part up until Amelie getting killed, becoming like her father. Ethan figured that his dad was keeping something from him this entire time, he was always the least favorite, the least popular, and the disappointment out of the three kids. He’s sure he also wasn’t told about the final touches to the plans because he would do anything in his power to stop them.

“You were going to go along with this? This whole time?!” Amelie faces Ethan, fuming and screams at the boy. She has been waiting to do this, waiting to yell at him and it feels good. Ethan did look like he wasn’t aware of this whole plan, but she wasn’t going to let his facade fool her anymore. “You asked me to tell you about my dad, knowing this was all planned! You’re fucking sick!”

“No, no, I’m not, I swear I didn’t know about that whole plan,” Ethan tries to convince her and shakes his head in denial, but his voice is soft. He glares at his dad as he admits his unawareness, but his dad just gives him the same hard look back. “I did care, I did want to know.”

“Yeah, right,” Amelie scoffs at him, disgusted. “I have trusted you too fucking much this whole time. I can’t fucking believe you.”

Ethan continues to repeat no’s, wanting to prove that he was sincere with her before, but she turns away from him in disgust and looks at Bailey once again. He was loosing her more and more. “No one will believe you, Sam isn’t a murderer!”

“Yes, she is, you motherfucker!” Quinn screams at Amelie and she whips her head around to look at the crazed girl. Quinn turns her head to look at Sam, “you killed our brother!”

Realization dawns on the three girls slowly as the hear Quinn’s words. Amelie begins to realize that Richie, Sam’s boyfriend who turned out to be Amber’s, from last years Ghostface attacks is the brother that Quinn must be referring to. She looks at Ethan and sees the same pained expression painted over his face.

“What? But-but you told us that your brother died in a car accident?“ Tara begins, her eyebrows furrowed as she recalls Quinn's story. Amelie's expression mimics Tara's as she remembers the time she had asked Ethan months ago about his life story, wanting to know all about him. He hesitated and stuttered to begin but eventually told her that he was an only child.

"And you said you had no siblings?"

“No, no, no, you sweet dumb thing-“ Ethan begins, his eyes soft and voice quiet. Yeah, so he did lie to Amelie about his family situation but it wasn't like he could just tell her. He felt bad enough when he did lie to her in the beginning, anyways.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Amelie cuts him off harshly and she watches as his eyes drop. She knows that if times were different, her heart would have melted at those words coming from Ethan’s mouth, but this was different, and it can never be like that again. It was like there were two different people in Ethan right now. He would be so soft with her, try his best and prove that he was still a good guy, then become all crazed again and hungry for revenge and blood spill.

“He died in Woodsboro,” Ethan continues nonetheless and points his knife at Sam. “At the hands of this bitch.”

“You’re Richie’s family,” It all clicked for Sam and Tara now, and Amelie’s suspicion was confirmed. They were doing this for revenge, avenging their brother and son, Richie, who was killed by Sam back in Woodsboro. Amelie looks between the three and notices their hard faces now. Ethan’s glare, Quinn’s teary eyes and shaky hands, and Bailey’s heartbroken face whose eyes are also wet.

“And you, were Amber’s best friend,” Quinn adds, her voice quivering as she speaks as she points at Amelie once again. Amelie figures that Amber must have been close with their family since she was dating Richie, and looking at Quinn’s glaring eyes, Amelie also figures that she was doing this for Amber as well.

“That’s why you hate me so much?” Amelie asks the girl in realization, her voice almost at a whisper. “You were close with Amber?”

“She was my best friend. And you killed her,” Quinn is so angry at them, so full of hatred, and Amelie almost wants to applaud her for her act she had to put on. “We got along so well after Richie introduced her to us, and we became so close. She told me all about you when you guys first met; how close you two got and how you felt like a sister to her.”

Amelie felt her heart seize at Quinn’s words, her lips quivering just a bit. Amber meant everything to Amelie at one point and she fucking ruined her.

“But she was always a little crazy in the head, and then she found out that you were Dewey’s precious little girl and fuck…” Quinn smiles and her sickening tone reminds her of Amber, back when she finally reveled how she was. She can see how the two got along so well. “…She knew she had to have you.”

Amelie watches Quinn break in front of her and knows she is too far gone for any type of help. She was out to avenge more than just her brother, but also her friend. She was also so angry because her brother had this protection over the girl who she wanted to kill so badly, so she can finally get revenge for Amber.

“And I just knew that since Amber got the privilege of ending your daddy, the only way I could really make up for you killing Amber, was to do the favor of killing you,” Quinn takes a slow, menacing step towards Amelie and the girl takes one step back. Tara and Sam still hold onto the girl and pulled her closer into them. Ethan also takes a step closer to his sister as he watches her advance for the second time tonight, he knows how bloodthirsty his sister is, but he vowed to protect Amelie, and he will. “Avenge her by ending the bitch that killed my best friend and killing the daughter of her greatest kill.”

"Watch it, Quinn," Ethan pipes up, the same warning tone he had earlier. Quinn will not kill her, not on his watch.

"Oh man up, you pussy," Quinn snaps at Ethan, turning for a second to glare over at him.

“You know, I can see how you and Amber were so close, Quinn…” Amelie begins, she feels angry all over again. Quinn looks over at the girl again. Amelie could barely even register the flaming pain in her shoulder from the stab and could only focus on her roommate in front of her. She thought of her dad, and she thought of Wes as she stared at Quinn. “You both were fucking crazy.”

Amelie scoffs and shakes her head at Quinn, a small smirk making a way to her face once more. She glances over at Ethan as well, making sure he knew she was including him in her sentence. She was not going to feel powerless; she was not going to feel scared. These people took and they didn’t care, and she was going to make sure that they knew they would regret doing this to her, to Sam, and to Tara.

“Actually, I can’t believe that we couldn’t see it before; the resemblance between Richie and you guys,” She doesn’t care how mad she was making the killers in front of her right now because she was livid. “You’re all sick in the fucking head, with the same soulless and empty look in your eyes. Just a bunch of fucking pussies.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Quinn screams but the smirk doesn’t falter from Amelie’s face. She is shaking in anger and the sight is almost pleasurable.

“And the best part? You’re gonna die like pussies too; just like Amber and Richie. Because it was us that killed them, you have fucking nothing!” Amelie’s face is red and hot, but she feels fucking good.

It all happens so fast before Quinn lets out a gruelling scream and rushes forward at Amelie, just about sticking her knife back in the stab she caused earlier before Ethan jumped forward and pulls his sister away from Amelie. Amelie screams in shock and pain, the cool blade about to enter her open wound livens the pain. Ethan shoves Quinn to the ground, quickly looking at Amelie and makes sure she is okay. He fucking despised hearing her words, but he was not going to watch his sister lay a hand on her.

During this time, Quinn moans from the ground and Tara grabs onto Sam, pushing them away from the two men who were approaching in closer. Amelie stares at Quinn’s manic face glaring at her brother and pushes herself up as fast as she could, before turning back around to reach Sam and Tara.

Quinn quickly runs around to corner Sam and Ethan reaches his arms out to snatch Amelie when he sees her try to get away. He holds her close to him as his free arm wraps itself around her waist. Amelie tries to push him away but the pain in her shoulder caused her grip to weaken and she fails to prevail. He brings the two to stand opposite his sister, now in front of Tara to trap the two girls between the three of them.

“Let her go!” Tara shouts at Ethan and swings the brick in her hand towards him, making sure she wouldn’t get Amelie. Ethan dodges the swing with the girl still gripped in his arm.

“Now, it wasn’t until I saw the photograph of what you actually done to him, that I knew! I knew you had to fucking die, you had to be punished!” As Bailey talks Sam spins around to make sure Tara is okay and notices Amelie tucked under Ethan’s arm and her eyes widen. “Along with anyone else who stands in our way.”

Amelie watches as Quinn approaches Sam with her bloody knife, holding it up to her neck. “There she is. There’s the fucking killer.”

“Real great parenting job, by the way,” Tara says sarcastically, looking at Bailey before she is shoved by Quinn. “Shut your whore fucking mouth!”

Tara and Sam fall down the step and stumble back to the spot they were standing in before. Ethan still holds onto Amelie tightly as she squirms in his hold, hitting his arm and pleading for him to let her go. He brings them over to stand behind Quinn, so they are facing all the people in the theatre.

“Have I been a perfect dad? No. Have I maybe over-indulged Richie’s love with these movies? Yeahh, maybe,” Bailey begins again as she looks at Sam. “For me, they are just a little dark. But Richie really loved them…”

Amelie watches as Bailey talks and begins to make his way up the stairs. She continues to squirm in Ethan’s hold, the pressure of his arm hurting her shoulder even more and she gasps out heavy breathes. “Ethan, Ethan, please.”

“I can’t, Amie, I can’t let you go. You will run away,” Ethan whispers from behind her and she can feel him shake his head. No shit I would run away, she thinks. His face falls and he looks to be in pain for doing this to her, but he needs her to know that he won’t hurt her.

“Please, Ethan, please,” She continues to plead as a sob escape from her mouth. "If you ever cared about me you wouldn't do this."

She can feel his hold loosen on her at her words before he tightens his arms again, almost snapping out of his moment of falter. He shakes his head, whispering in her ear, "Amie, I did care and I still do. That is why I am doing this."

"No, no, Ethan, please," Amelie sobs, squinting her eyes shut as tears continue to fall.

“-a very special bond, between a father and his first son,” Amelie zones back in when she hears Bailey solemnly utters the words, looking at the screen that plays one of Richie’s films. Amelie feels Ethan grow rigid behind her and can guess that it was his father’s choice of words. She wants to feel for him, understand that Ethan may be feeling the pain of being the underrated son, but she knows that he did this by choice, and he can’t be completely sane if he is doing this. Ethan’s arm remains tight around her, but his movement stopped. She quits squirming in his arms, though she still remains afraid of what he might do. She notices his right hand grip the knife pointing at Sam, tighter.

She can hear Bailey go on about how the theatre was made for Richie, he put it in the names of Greg and Jason before killing them, and that this is the place that they, mainly Sam, need to die and suffer for what they did. Amelie can feel Ethan getting riled up again at his dad’s words and knows she needs to try again and escape from his grip.

“Oh, so pathetic,” Sam whispers. Amelie lifts one of her hands and places it on the top of Ethan’s that is wrapped around her waist. She hesitantly places her fingers through his and she can feel his grip loosen, probably shocked by her actions.

“Yeah, your son. Who was a man-baby, who made his girlfriend do all the killing.”

Amelie pulls their hands down slightly to now rest on the front of her stomach but doesn’t loosen the grip on their hands, so Ethan doesn’t freak out.

“He was a strong, feral young man.” Amelie can’t help but worry for Sam as she continues to talk. Bailey starts shaking more as she does and the gun in his grip looks ready to fire.

“He was a limp dick, little fuck who cried before I slit his throat.” Sam smirked.

“Shut the fuck up!” Quinn screams once again and Amelie takes this as her chance while Ethan is distracted. She grabs their hands and pulls his arm away from her body, spinning her out of his grip, throwing his arm back to his body, and right in front of a fuming Quinn. Her eyes widen, thinking that maybe she was safer in Ethan’s arms as Quinn’s blade enters her stomach.

“No!” Ethan yells as his eyes travel to where Quinn holds her knife in Amelie’s stomach. The girl can hear both Tara and Sam yell out behind her, but all she can feel is the warmth of her blood trail down her abdomen.

“Gotchya, bitch,” Quinn smirks as she twists the knife and Amelie screams in pain. Tara rushes up and swings the brick in her hand at Quinn’s face, causing the girl to fall onto the girl and spit up blood and teeth. Amelie can hear gunshots ring out and looks ahead of her to where Kirby stands with her gun, aiming for Bailey. She pants and whimpers in pain, attempting to push herself forward and away from the group, where she falls on her knees and grips the handle of the knife to pull it out of her stomach.

“Ahh!” Amelie screams as she loosely holds the handle. She tries to flip herself over onto her butt and leans back against one of the displays behind her. She places her other hand on her bleeding stomach and notices Tara rush up to her.

“Amie, are you okay?” Tara spits out and looks behind her face and wound. Amelie tries to nod at the girl and notices that two of the Ghostfaces are on the ground, while Ethan looks at her with panic in his eyes. He turns to Kirby and runs at her.

“We need to go,” Amelie pants to Tara and the girl helps her get up. One of her arms slung over Tara’s shoulder and the other gripping onto her stomach. Tara brings them to the ladder leading up to the balcony of the theatre and pushes Amelie to get her to climb.

“C’mon, Amie you got this,” Tara says behind her and ushers her up the ladder, following close behind.

“This is fucking hard,” Amelie pants out again, her face contorted in pain as she tries to push herself up the ladder further. Her grip is weak and shaky, but she manages to push herself up to the top, letting her fall back to her knees once she reaches the floor. Amelie looks down and sees Sam stab at Ethan profusely, a mix of emotions flowing through her. Her mouth opens as she stares at the scene, watching the boy she has come to love get brutally injured. She wants to be able to talk to him, to see what was real and what wasn’t, but she also knows that he wants them dead. Well, maybe just Sam and Tara specifically.

Sam manages to climb up to them and Tara pulls Amelie back up onto her feet so they can move. Tara pushes Amelie to stand in between Sam and her and the three girls attempt to climb across the obstacles and railings along the side of the balcony to get further up top. Amelie goes to copy Sam’s movements and step across the balcony rail to land on the floor, but her shaky foot slips on the edge when she hears another gunshot ring, and she falls down the side. Luckily, she manages to grab onto the rail with her bloody hands but screams when she feels the stretch of her stab wound being pulled due to her body hanging. She looks down and sees Ethan below her, almost waiting for her to fall and a sob escapes her mouth. She looks back up to the sisters and her bloody hand slips from the rail.

“I-I can’t hold on,” Amelie cries out and the two girls reach forward to grab onto her hands.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sam repeats as she looks at Amelie in panic. She can’t let Amelie fall, she won’t because she can’t give them the chance of killer her.

“Hold on, Amie, you can do it,” Tara cries out as her hands continue to slip through theirs.

“C’mon, Amie, come down!” Ethan shouts manically from below her and another wave of fear runs up her spine at his voice. "I promise i won't hurt you!"

“Fuck you!” Amelie screams down at him, tears falling past her face at the panic striking through her body.

Amelie turns her head to the side when she notices both Tara and Sam look in that direction. She sees Quinn had made her way up to the balcony and is slowly advancing her way to the girls, her knife scraping against the metal bars as she passes them. Amelie turns back to the girls, eyes wide open with panic.

“Let me go,” She whispers. Both Tara and Sam widen their eyes at her words and shake their head.

“No, no, no, no way,” Sam repeats as her grip on Amelie’s hand tightens.

“Sam, you have to let me go,” Amelie repeats as she notices Quinn approaching even closer to the girls. She looks back down to where Ethan stands and sees his eyes never strayed from her dangling body. She looks back up and into Sam’s eyes, “Ethan won’t hurt me.”

“Amie, he’s the fucking killer,” Tara says to her, face contorted in shock and panic.

“You-you heard Quinn, he won’t hurt me, okay? You have to trust me,” Amelie rushes her words, knowing they don’t have much time left. She looks at the knife that Tara grabbed from her earlier and the girl passes it back to Amelie with her spare hand. Sam nods at Amelie and let’s go of her one hand holding onto them.

Amelie yells as she falls down, her eyes squinting shut in fear of landing flat on the ground. She peels them open when she doesn’t feel the hard floor, but a pair of arms wrap around her body. Ethan holds her, eyes wide open as he caught her from falling on the ground. She pushes him back after realizing who it was and holds the knife clutched in her hand tighter, pointing it out in front of her.

“No, no, I won’t hurt you, okay? I promise,” Ethan looks at her with pleading eyes and hands out in front of him to prove to her, in a way.

“Why?!” Amelie cries to him. Ethan looks in her eyes and he looks like he could be sorry, but she knew better than to believe him. “Was any of it actually real?!”

“Yes, Amie, I swear it was,” Ethan’s voice is so soft, he needs her to know that he was real about this all, everything with her. “I have liked you so much, since I first met you, and I knew that I couldn’t hurt you. I couldn’t let you get hurt.”

“But you did!” Amelie shouts at him and then points to her chest where the bandage she had is currently peeling off. She knew better than to believe that shitty excuse of him being at econ. “You did this me! You were the one at the apartment!”

“I was, okay? I was, but I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Ethan shakes his head as he tries to defend himself. “I had to do it, to prove to my dad that I wasn't useless and that he could actually be proud of-"

"Oh, save me your fucking sob story! What, you had to prove to your dad that you were worthy? Worthy of killing your fucking friends, people who trusted you?!" Amelie shouts at Ethan, her eyes hard and she notices his teeth grind at her words, his jaw feathering.

"Look, I felt someone pull at my mask and I-I couldn’t let that happen. So, I just swung, and I am so, so sorry, Amie. I didn’t want to even touch you that night.”

“You fucking killed Anika!” Amelie screams out. She doesn’t care anymore if he didn’t want to hurt her, he still did. Even if he didn’t mean to stab her, he hurt her when he decided to put that mask on, when he killed her friends.

Ethan can’t find a response in him that he could say to her that would make her hate him less, he meant to kill Anika. He did it on purpose and he knew what he was doing, so he doesn’t feel bad. He only does because it has led to the girl he likes, hating him because of it.

“All those times when you told me to be safe, to not go or leave the apartment, was because you knew what would happen!” A cry leaves her mouth, and her hands shake as she talks. “The only person I needed to be safe from, was you!”

“I did that to protect you!” Ethan shouts back at her, pointedly. Her knife still points at him in protection, but she is visibly weaker than before. Her cries have caused her body to shake, and her wounds have weakened her strength, but she is just so sad and angry that she can’t stop from shouting at Ethan. “Please, Amie, you have to believe me when I say that I never wanted anything bad to happen to you.”

“And you have to believe me when I say that you already have, Ethan” Amelie cries. Her eyes hard as she stares at the boy who once caused her cheeks to flush and heart to flutter, now frigid in fears and sick to her stomach. She can’t help but still think that he can genuinely be a good person, that he could truly be who she thought he once was. His brown eyes so soft when they look into hers and his touch so gentle when he is near her.

"Dean."

"What?" Ethan pauses and looks at her confused. Why the fuck would she be bringing him up right now?

"Dean, Ethan. Is he okay?" Amelie evaluates his expression, trying to gauge how he reacts to her asking about the boy who she still hasn't heard back from. "And was it you in the mask the day I was walking with Dean?"

"Yes," Amelie figured as much, now knowing that Ethan was crazy both in the head and about her.

"Why?"

"Because I needed to make sure that nothing happened with him, that he didn't try anything," Ethan sounds almost ashamed at his confession, but he pushes his shoulders back to at least appear more confident in himself. Just the thought of Dean was irritating him. "When I saw you guys at that party together, god Amie, I was so fucking jealous."

Amelie keeps her expression neutral and doesn't say anything. He was fucking crazy, she knew this by now, but she also couldn't imagine watching the person you love freely be with someone else.

"It was him who got to touch you, who got to kiss you, after just meeting! Fuck, Amie, I wanted it to be me so bad and then we finally got to have that and finally, it was me. And then I knew that you felt the same way, that Dean meant fucking nothing!"

Ethan takes a step towards her and drops his knife to the ground when he notices that she doesn’t back away. She was listening so intently to him, still not giving him any reaction other than her soft gaze.

"So, it was me who called you first as Ghostface but you wouldn't pick up. Though, I don't entirely blame you. You wouldn't answer knowing it was the killer, so I just decided to fuck it, and call you myself. As Ethan this time."

"You just wanted me away from him?" Amelie finally speaks up, her voice quiet.

"I-I guess, I don't know. I saw you two together and-"

"Woah, woah, you were stalking me?" Amelie asks incredulously. She felt shivers down her spine at the idea that Ethan did more than just kill her friends and like her a lot. He potentially watched her without even doing anything.

"What? No! No!" Ethan rushes out, his eyes wide in panic at Amelie's insinuations. Guess he should have cleared that up first. "I was on campus, too, and then I saw you about to start heading home. I was going to come up to you, but Dean got there first. So, i just watched from a distance."

Amelie falls quiet again, her shoulders relaxing only slightly at Ethan's response. She feels a bit more relieved, knowing that it at least only happened once.

"I have only ever cared for you, Amie, I promise. I know it is so selfish but I just wanted you to myself. After you kissed me, I realized you must have felt the same. From then, I wanted to prove to you that it can only be me. That I am a good person, that you can trust me."

Amelie needs to sit the fuck down. This mans change in demeanour was throwing her for a loop. He was brutal, ready to kill her his friends, but treated her like she was a delicate piece of glass. Maybe he was telling her the truth, there was no way he would go this far with the act if he wasn't.

“Ethan!” Bailey shouts from behind him. The boy turns to his father and Amelie looks at him as well, her knife staying in spot. “She can’t live, son.”

“I know, dad,” Ethan replies and turns to look at the girl. Her eyes widen when she realizes that he must have been faking it all along and takes a step back, trying to distance herself once more. “Go! I will deal with her.”

At that Bailey looks at his son hesitantly, knowing how much his son wanted to protect Amelie, remembering how many times he had pleaded to him to leave her alone, and when the time comes, he will deal with it himself. So, Bailey listens and begins to find a way up to where Quinn and the sisters are.

“What the fuck?” Amelie shouts at him, so angry thinking that he just lied to her and was going to do as he said for his father. "You were fucking lying!"

“I just said that, Amie. I needed him to leave,” Ethan lowers his voice as he replies, not wanting his dad to get the chance to hear him. He takes a step closer once more and holds his hands out in front of him to show her that he wasn’t hiding anything. “I promise I haven’t lied to you, not once have I today.”

Amelie bites her lip as it starts to quiver, looking to see if Ethan wasn’t telling the truth. When she looks around him to notice that he doesn’t have any weapon hidden on him, and his eyes appear to be truthful, she nods. Ethan sees her come to an acceptance and takes one more step closer to her. He grabs her wrist that is holding out the knife and slowly brings it down to her side. His other hand places itself onto her bicep of the arm that Quinn stabbed and gently holds onto it.

Amelie continues to shake in her spot but makes no move to push him away, too convinced that Ethan wouldn’t actually hurt her. She moves her gaze down to where his hand meets her wrist and sees the knife still clutched in it. The boy himself doesn’t quite know what he is trying to do, he knows that she won’t ever be able to look at him the same way again. He also doesn’t know if either of them are actually going to make it out of this theatre tonight, but if this is the last moment the two of them will ever have with each other then he needed it to be peaceful and genuine.

His right hand that rests on her arm brings itself up to tuck strands of her hair behind her ear and rests his palm on the side of her head. Amelie lets him get close but makes no move to place her hands or arms on the boy in front of her.

“I am so sorry, Amie,” Ethan whispers down at the girl, his hand holding the side of her face and neck so gently. Tears escape her eyes when she lifts her head to meet his gaze. He looks so sad, and she is sure that she looks no different. Amelie knows that this moment can’t last for much longer, and that the both of them won’t be able to walk out of this theatre alive. Even if they did, she wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way ever again, only a killer and a traitor.

“Ethan,” Amelie tries to talk but only manages to sob out. She shakes her head as her body shudders with her cries. Her heart aches, feeling a pain that she is sure will only hurt more as she stands here with Ethan holding her.

“It’s okay, Amie-“

“-No, no, no,” she tries to interrupt, her voice cracking as she speaks, and tears get caught in her mouth.

“It’s okay-“ Ethan tries to plead to her again. His hand on her wrist raising to place itself on the other side of her face.

“No, it’s not!” Amelie shouts at the boy, cutting him off. Ethan looks down at her, stunned and sad. He would do anything to have her look at him the same way she did just a day ago, anything. Because after everything he has done for his family and for his brother, it doesn’t feel worth it. Not when she looks so heartbroken, not when he jeopardized the one greatest thing he had in his life, not when his dad is not even as proud of him as he had yearned for him to be. But he was too far gone, he didn’t dislike killing his friends and he hated that it made him feel good. He is so crazy and so delusional, he truly believes that just because he wants to protect Amelie from being killed, it’s enough to save who he is and make Amelie feel okay about all of this.

Amelie is so full of emotions; she doesn’t even know where to begin. Sam had told her earlier that day, and she believed every word: they were going to kill these Ghostface’s, and they were going to live. Amelie also knows that the time is ticking and as much as she wants to believe that sane part of Ethan that is left, she can’t. He killed Anika, he killed Chad, he has been part of this fucked up plan to kill her friends and eventually her, despite what he says. God, she left him with Mindy, too, and she can only hope with any part left in her that Mindy is still okay and safe.

So, Amelie raises herself onto her toes and pushes her head closer to his. Ethan, taking the chance while he can, leans into her as well. Longing to feel her lips against his just one more time, longing to feel that sense of peace he received when he was so close to her. Just as Amelie lets her lips graze his, she takes her hand that is still clutched onto the knife and pushes it forward into Ethan’s stomach. He pulls his face back stunned, eyes wide and betrayal stricken on his face. His hands fall back down to his sides and he looks down to where her hand is connected to his torso, then back up at her face. He can’t find any words to say to her or find the ability to fight back, he deserves this. He deserves every bit of this for causing her so much pain, for ruining the once chance he could have had to go back and take back his decision of being Ghostface.

“What a fool,” Amelie stares in his eyes, hers have stopped leaking and a snarl has made a way onto her lips. She needed to do this, she was so angry at him and what her and her friends have been put through these past couple of days. She twists the knife in his gut, and he lets out a gasp. Blood begins flowing out of him and covers her hand. “That’s for Anika.”

She retracts the knife and Ethan takes his chance, attempting to take a step back away from her but she only takes her knife, swings it up, and stabs down into his shoulder. Ethan lets out a shout of pain and falls down to his knees. “For Chad.”

She pulls the knife out of his pin-cushioned body and drags the tip of her knife down from the cut she made on his shoulder to the end of his collarbone. Her face is red in anger, and she can’t quite believe she has brought herself to do this, but she was so tired. She needed to do this for too many reasons, and the mere fact that she even had a list to begin with was enough to set her off. She watches as Ethan screams out in pain from the injuries she is inflicting onto him, but he can’t hurt her. He said he wouldn’t, and he won’t. So, he takes it and lets her do what she needs to do. He knew neither of them were going to make it out, and if that meant him at the hands of her, he was okay with that. He was always ready to die for her, even if that meant that it was from her hands.

Once Amelie reaches the end of his collarbone, she lifts the knife from his skin and looks at his broken eyes. “That was for me.”

“I-I’m s-s-so sorry,” Ethan is chocking on his blood, but he needed her to know. Amelie wants to feel bad for what she is doing to him, but she keeps getting reminded of what he has done, and what he has become a part of. This was for her dad, for her aunt, for Gale, for him becoming part of what took her family from her. With his mouth open and blood dripping out of it, he tries to talk over the searing pain. "Please, Amie."

He wasn't quite sure what he was begging her for, neither was she. Amelie was just overcome with an immense feeling of pleasure seeing Ethan like this; on his knees, begging her.

Amelie shouts and raises her knife back up and into his mouth, stuck into his throat. Blood now flows out of his mouth like a waterfall and as grossed out as she is from the warm mix of saliva and blood, she feels her shoulders drop. “Now die a fucking virgin.”

Amelie lets a sob rack through her body as she watches the life slip from his face and is about to pull the knife out of the boy’s mouth but is only able to let a scream rip through her mouth.

“Amie!” She can hear Sam and Tara shout from above, but she can only focus on the knife that just entered her back. Ethan stares at her one last time with wide eyes, just catching what happened to her before he drops to the ground.

“I believe this is what Amber did to your dad, right?”

Detective Bailey pulls the knife out of her back and kicks her to the ground where she falls face first and onto her stomach, just missing Ethan’s body in front of her. Quinn, from above, tauntingly laughs as she watches the events taking place just below her. The two sisters watch with their eyes wide open, tears streaming down their face as they just watched their best friend, their sister, get stabbed. She was now bleeding from either side of her torso.

Amelie can only feel an abundance of pain as she attempts to crawl forward, her hands desperately gripping at the floor beneath her to push forward with her fingertips.

“You just took my last son from me,” Wayne says standing behind her, venom laced in his words. “He cared about you so much, too bad you also had to go.”

Wayne leans down and swings his knife, stabbing the side of Amelie’s right thigh. She tries to let another scream rip through her throat, but it cracks to no end, and only a sob comes out. Her head lulls to the side and onto the cold floor as she watches the man leave the knife in her leg, and actually disappear upstairs this time. She can hear the sounds around her, the screams, the gunshots, the glass breaking, but it is so faint and she can’t bring herself to lift her head or attempt to get up. She is in so much pain that she can almost not even feel the throbbing in her shoulder, her stomach, her back, or her leg anymore. The only thing she can eventually make out is the reflection of fire project onto the white sheet and she does everything to try and keep her eyes open. She can’t close them; she knows that if she does, she may not make it and her worst fear will come true; she will become part of this shrine and part of the legacy.

Amelie isn’t sure how much time passes before she realizes it is becoming significantly harder to breathe. All she does know is that she feels a twitch at her hand and a clothed hand grab onto her fingers. She assumes its Ethan’s and can’t express her shock that he is still alive. She nearly feels relieved that he is still there to hold her hand through it all, but also scared that he has managed to make it through.

The girl tries to tilt her head slightly when she sees two figures make their way to her, and through her blurred vision makes out Tara and Sam who rush down to her.

“C’mon, Amie,” Amelie hears Tara cry.

“Tara, help, let’s try to move her,” Sam says, and Amelie can feel the two girls grab onto her arms gently and the two manage to life her, bringing her to the steps of the stage where they lean her against the bottom step.

“It hurts so bad,” Amelie weakly cries, unable to hold herself up from the stinging in her back. She fears that Wayne may have hit something significantly important when he stabbed her in the back because she can’t find any strength or ability to sit up straight.

“We know, we know, help should be on the way” Tara says as her and Sam sit on either side of her, holding her up and Sam lets Amelie lean against her legs so she can sit upright. Amelie tilts her head back slightly to look back at Sam, “Are they dead?”

Sam nods her head back at the girl and strokes her hair, softly muttering a “yeah.”

“I promise I’m going to get so much therapy after this, I’m serious,” Tara chuckles and looks at Sam. Amelie tries to nod her head in agreement, catching Tara's words. If she makes it.

“We’re gonna get through this,” Tara looks at Sam, then down at Amelie and places a hand on her unhurt shoulder. “Together.”

The three girls turn in shock, Amelie wincing hard as she does so, when they hear a scream and see Ethan charging at them. Suddenly, before he can make his way to the girls in his vengeful rage, he trips on the cord of the broken TV used to kill Stu Macher and the heavy unit falls on his head. Amelie gasps as she watches his body twitch under the TV before it stills.

“Saw that in a scary movie once,” Kirby smiles, revealing herself since she got stabbed earlier by Ethan. The three girls turn to her, also relieved that she is okay. Amelie looks ahead when she hears metal clinking and sees police begin to bust through the door, Amelie smiles once she sees them and feels her head fall to the side, onto Sam’s thigh. Sam looks down when she feels the weight on her leg and her eyebrows furrow.

“Amie?” Sam questions the girl and nudges her head with the hand that was already on it, previously stroking her hair. When the girl below her doesn’t move, she calls again, “Amie?!”

“Amie?”

“Amelie!”

“Help, we need help!”

Amelie can hear, but she can’t see or speak. She only feels weak and lets the darkness behind her eyelids trick her into the peace. The voices and yells coming from her friends begin to sound hollow and all she can focus on is that fact that she doesn’t feel pain, not as bad as she did before. For once, her head is quiet and her shoulders don’t feel like there are a ton of boulders weighing them down. She finally found solace and a breath of fresh air. She was free from this curse, free from the all the noise that wouldn’t leave her head since the moment she learned her life would forever be different, last year. Amelie wasn’t sure if she was dead, or even dying, just that she was comfortable in the state she was in. What she does know, is that she is okay. That she managed to kill the boy who she came to love, and that the other two who were ruining her life, are dead. That Sam and Tara were okay, that they were going to walk out of this place all okay.

If she makes it out alive is still a question to her, but the endless darkness that surrounds her eyes finally makes her feel okay. She did what she could, and although she took a lot, she knows that her dad would be so proud of her, and that Ethan died sorry to her.

[mossycobblestonearts]

elijah, i once locker-juked with this man for two minutes straight, it was glorious

masterlist

[vxyselectric]

Masterlist

Fluff: 🗲 Angst: ☁︎

Michael Vey

Nothing here a the moment...

~

The Maze Runner

Newtmas

🗲 Little Game Night (Blurb) ☁︎🗲 The Voice I Hear (Oneshot, Potential Series) ☁︎ Honey Brown Eyes (Oneshot) 🗲 My Sunshine 1, 2, 3 (Series, Ongoing...)

~

Riordanverse

Couples Characters

~

Julie and the Phantoms

Juke

☁︎🗲 Story of my Life (Oneshot)

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I am trying to write more, but forgot I may need a masterlist! Feel free to request for any of these, just check out my pinned post to see what type of content I am and am not comfortable writing :)

[felicitysmoaksx]

JJ’s Fic and Moodboard Masterlist Updated 7/14/24

Moodboards

Best Friends Brother AU || One Chicago || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Sarah Reese: Police Officer || One Chicago || Sarah Reese Centric

Single Dad!Severide || One Chicago || Kelly Severide Centric

Halstead Brothers Adopt Reese || One Chicago || Gen

Merlyn Twins au || One Chicago & Arrow || Tommy Merlyn & Connor Rhodes

One Chicago x Jatp Fusion || One | Two | Three || One Chicago & Julie and The Phantoms || Mult-ship

The Andi AU || One | Two || One Chicago || Sarah Reese Centric & Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

The Resident x One Chicago Crossover || One | Two || The Resident & One Chicago || Gen: Conrad Hawkins & Sarah Reese

Ballet au || One Chicago || Sarah Reese Centric

Voight Family Values || One Chicago || Gen and Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Sarah Reese as a Former Black Widow || One Chicago & Marvel Studios || Gen: Sarah Reese & Bucky Barnes

The Sisters Halstead || One Chicago || Gen: Makayla Ward & OC

MCU Spiderman Meets The Amazing Spiderman || Marvel Studios || Gen

Mockingbird || One Chicago & DC TV || Gen: Sarah Reese & Dick Grayson & Mult-Ship

Severide & Reese Step-Siblings au || One Chicago || Gen: Sarah Reese & Kelly Severide

Burgstead Pregnancy AU || One Chicago || Jay Halstead x Kim Burgess

Superstar Juke AU || Julie and The Phantoms || Julie Molina x Luke Patterson

NHL Star! Connor Rhodes || One Chicago || Connor Rhodes Centric

WHAT IF NESTA COULDN’T PHYSICALLY SPEAK IN ACOTAR? || ACOTAR || Nesta Archeron x Cassian

What if Paulo took Daisy with him when he left Clump? || Irreverent || Gen: Paulo Keegan & Daisy

Some Kind of Haunted || One | Two || One Chicago & Criminal Minds & CBS FBI International || Gen: Brian Lang & Connor Rhodes && Connor Rhodes x Sarah Reese

FICS

Marvel Comics

The One Where Tony Survives (Alt Endgame Universe) || WIP (Series)

A Handful of Moments I Wished I Could Change (And a Tongue like a Nightmare that Cut like a Blade) || Complete || One Shot

Two Worlds (One Family) || Complete || One Shot

The Darcy Lewis Chonicles (Series)

Just Tony || Darcy Lewis and Tony Stark || One Shot

Julie and The Phantoms

Found a Time and Space || WIP || Multi-Chapter || Juke & Williex

In These Small Hours (Series) || Complete

Hollywood Tragedy Aftermath || Complete || Bobby | Trevor Wilson Centric

Do You Hear That Love? || Complete ||  One Shot  || Willie x Alex

Melancholy Kaleidoscope || Complete || One Shot  || Julie x Luke

Little Wonders (These Twists and Turns of Fate) || Complete || One Shot || Julie x Luke and Willie x Alex

One Chicago 

You Held Me Up on Your Shoulders Way Up High || Chicago Med and Chicago Fire || WIP || Multi-Chapter || Sarah Reese and Kelly Severide 

It Was a One Night Stand Until I Woke Up Next to You || Chicago PD || WIP (Series)

It Was a One Night Stand Until I Woke Up Next to You || WIP ||  Multi-Chapter || Jay Halstead x Kim Burgess 

Blood Thicker Than Water || One Shot || Complete || Jay Halstead x Kim Burgess

Married But As Friends (Series) Chicago Med || Complete

Delicate || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

You Could Still See the Best in Me || Chicago Med ||  Complete || One Shot || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Cause I Clutched Your Arms like Stairway Railings || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Freeze Time, Baby Rewind  || Chicago Med ||  Complete || One Shot || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Friends Don't Look at Friends That Way || Chicago Med || Complete || Multi-Chapter || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Come Back Be Here (Series) || Complete

Never Stop || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Guilty by Association || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

If I Drift in the Wrong Direction (You Turn the Tide) || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

You & Me || Chicago Med || Complete || Multi-Chapter || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Reader Imagines (Series)

Apartment Fire || One Chicago || Complete || One Shot || Jay Halstead &  Disabled fem!reader Halstead sibling

Doctor Visit  || One Chicago || Complete || One Shot || Halstead brothers Will & Jay Halstead &  Disabled fem!reader Halstead sibling, and Manstead if you squint

One Chicago Soulmate AU || WIP (Series)

Your Words (Burned into My Skin) || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

In Your Eyes (and it all makes sense) || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Sweet Nothing (All You Wanted From Me Was) || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Long Story Short  || WIP (Series)

Rare as a Glimmer of a Comet  || Chicago Med || Complete || One Shot ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Voight Family Values || WIP (Series)

Yeah, I Just Wanna Take You Home || Chicago Med || Complete || Multi-Chapter ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Hold On, I Still Want You  || Chicago Med || Complete || Multi-Chapter ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Interlude: What If || Chicago Med || Complete || Drabble || Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

Bottled Up Feelings are Silently Screaming (You Were Breaking Down) || Chicago Med || WIP || Multi-Chapter ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

DC TV

What Happened in Russia, Didn’t Stay in Russia || Arrow || Oliver x Felicity (An AU season 2 rewrite) || WIP (Series)

You’ll Always Be My Girl (or Felicity’s first scar and Oliver’s lecture) || Complete || One Shot

Slade’s Promise (Or Oliver’s Overprotective But with Good Reason) || Compete || One Shot

DC TV/Chicago Med Crossover

Mockingbird & Co.

The Same Little Breaks In Your Soul || Chicago Med || Arrow || Titans ||  WIP || Multi-Chapter ||  Sarah Reese x Connor Rhodes

MY REDBUBBLE SHOP

MY KO-FI PAGE

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Shameless "Dashboard Simulator" with my Clone OCs for more characterization practice.

Whoops: this has been buried in my drafts for a while, but I added new stuff.

☀️ knight-caelen

Very well, @cc-juke-417 I made the account, now what?

🎹 cc-juke-417

Hold on, one second, General! Let me tag Captain Law.

@capt-law-302 now you can share the funny bantha videos.

📋 capt-law-302

I have so many more saved in my bantha tag, General.

#bantha #video files #welcome to the holonet General #302 legion

( 302 notes )

🪺 fabric-feathers

I don't really wanna talk about, like, the war and stuff like a lot of other clone troopers are so maybe I'll do a bird blog instead?

🔪 toaninchofyourlife follow

You totally should, Vas!

🪺 fabric-feathers

Um? Who are you?

🔪 toaninchofyourlife follow

Oh it's me, Carver! So sorry! I thought all the woodcarving and knife care would've made it obvious that it's me. (It was the username, wasn't it? You can thank @stonestack (Cairn) for that one, I can't figure out how to change it.)

⛰️ stonestack follow

You're welcome.

besh-trill-wesk @rowdytooka ... Vas FINALLY made a holoblog.

🦁 rowdytooka

CANVAS! :D Ya finally made one ya lil scamp! You should totally do a bird blog!

#hi little brother!! #now we just gotta convince cypher to make a bug blog and maybe you guys can like collab or something :') #lil nerds putting their heads together (affectionate)

( 5 notes )

🔪 toaninchofyourlife

⛰️ stonestack

HEY

🔪 toaninchofyourlife

hELP how do I change the "at" to "to"? I meant to say I was gonna make more of the worry stones Cairn likes to use for his stacks and I posted this when I was half asleep!!!

I was thinking of giving them to him as I made them I swear I swear

🔪toaninchofyourlife

@capt-law-302 CAPTAIN LAW HELP

📋capt-law-302

@medic-riddance You may have some patients coming into the medbay, soon. It's the twins again.

#these boys... #I voted for the mudhorn egg

( 14 notes )

❤️‍🩹medic-riddance

Gentle reminder to the 302nd Legion of the GAR:

Around this time of year for many planets, it's cold and flu season. So please keep up with regular handwashing protocol! - Rid

🥼hes-a-wylie-one

NOT SO GENTLE REMINDER BECAUSE RID IS TOO NICE TO SAY IT: WASH THE FILTHY GERM-PILES YOU CALL HANDS, YOU DISGUSTING PETRI DISHES!

ct-deactivated4043098348

okay fess up who got wylie sick again

🥼hes-a-wylie-one

WHEN I FIND OUT WHO GAVE ME MALONGO POX I'M GONn

[Hi brothers, please let me know over on @medic-riddance if Wylie's posting anything strange or unusual. Treatment for Malongo pox involves sedatives, so while it should mean he's sleeping, who knows what he'll start posting again when the first dosage wears off! He's sleeping right now, at least. Thanks and all the best, Rid.]

ct-deactivated4043098348

poor wylie

( 417 notes )

🦁 rowdytooka

... Carver what the hell is your #knife husbandry tag?

#please tell me that's cairn's doing #kriffing??? knife husbandry??? #you know we can all see that right?

( 22 notes )

🪲ilikebigbugs

@ruff-n-rowdy Fess up. Why'd you change my username? I can't change it back to cyphers-and-codexes!

🥊ruff-n-rowdy follow

It wasn't me, Cypher, honest. You can thank @shortfortactical it was his idea. I did sneak him your datapad, though.

🐺shortfortactical

I can give you cyphers-and-codexes back if you really want it.

🪲ilikebigbugs

I still don't believe you that figuring out the "bug trick" from this Arcadia friend of yours was a happy coincidence, Tack.

#I'm gonna keep the new username for now #brothers in my legion kept misspelling 'codexes' and could never tag me properly in things... #you're forgiven. for now.

( 104 notes )

[FFF Masterlist] [Clone OC Masterlist]

[strangercarla]

JATP Group Masterlist

Genre Key - 💜 (fluff) 🦋 (angst)

Fanfiction

I moved on, he stayed there - Juke (💜🦋)

Introduction

Chapter 1