#just let him be a guy xv

[fresh-paint4the-roses]

Ello! Today is my birthday! Finally, 18! 🥳. Honestly, even if it is relatively miniscule in the grander scheme of things, the likes, reblogs, mean a lot to me, and I'm using it all to up the ante on my composition artstyle, color theory, ect ect.

Going through the daily scroll dip I saw a kinda funky Azurid post, I kind of realized something that finally hit me as to why I've never really liked Floyrid, Jaderid, or most ships with Riddle in general, and had mostly hc'd him as aroace untill I discovered AzuRido.

Not saying that all floyrid, jaderid, or any other riddle ship is like this- I think has to do more with BL and yaoi as a whole (even i'm guilty of this with one or two of my posts tbh). Because Riddle is obviously shorter, cuter, androgynous- He often gets typecast into the cute reluctant soft uke (bottom)- And I don't know. It lowkey grinds my gears, to see him depicted like that, so effeminate and far removed from his character he very well is surrogate pov for a yn x whoever.

I think it would (and I will) be better depicting him and his relationship with Azul as the confident and androgynous man that he is, starting with this WIP banger of a composition.

Zamn does the Fibonacci sequence go hard

[starboye]

"𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖓𝖔 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒"

Day I - Older!Captain Price fucking femboy!younger!male reader

Day II - Rafe Cameron disciplining male reader because you were acting all bratty at one of his parties

Day III - Drew Starkey making male reader his bitch and dominating him after having a hard day

Day IV - Nate Jacobs choking male reader while fucking him

Day V - Stiles Stilinski rough fucking ftm!male reader and talking about how much he want you to get pregnant

Day VI - Gojo Saturo and male reader role playing you as the damsel in distress and gojo saving you and dicking you down as a prize

Day VII - Simon Riley breeding male reader over and over till you're filled with his delicious cum

Day VIII - Matt Sturniolo having a praise kink and top!male reader using that to your advantage throughout sex

Day IX - Tom Holland edging male reader so much

Day X - Chris Sturniolo fucking you till your an incoherent mess in front of a mirror

Day XI - Perter Parker orgasm denial from top!male reader

Day XII - remy gets jealous for whatever reason and he makes you watch him jack off and you can't touch him. You just have to sit in front of him and watch him and when he finishes he makes you swallow all of it

Day XIII - rough smut with Nicholas Alexander Chavez, maybe some guy tries flirting with reader and Nicholas gets pissed and rough fucks reader, maybe some daddy kink

Day XIV - Billy Loomis x SubTop shy nerdy Male Reader😭

Day XV - bellamy blake x thick fem boy reader, where everyone is having a party with drinking and dancing, and bellamy see reader dancing with other men and they keep grabbing his big ass bc it’s so big. so bellamy takes reader away and fucks that ass (also some face sitting 😏)

Day XVI - helping channing tatum at the gym and somehow stuff turns nsfw, do anything ya want with that, i'm just really REALLY desperate for stuff about him, can be short, can be long idc

Day XVII - cuck/stag fic with Charles leclerc the f1 driver, he seems like he’d be a huge cumdump behind closed doors and the reader could share him as punishment/desperation.

Day XVIII - Professor Miguel O’Hara and his student-boyfriend meeting up after class. Why, you ask? Well, the professor’s got a meeting. He’s gotta head home and take a shower. But a shower means washing away his glorious, glorious sweat and musk. He doesn’t want to deprive his good little slut of his favorite things in the world, so tells his boy to give him a tongue bath before his real one.

Day XIX - You want kinky? Musk kink, boot kink, choking kink, and of course knife play with Ghostface (whichever version) the ftm!reader fought back when GF tried to kill em, they all get sweaty and turned on so the fighting turned to fucking, Ghostface being Ghostface, he's all degrading, making the reader do stuff like grind on his boots, lick the blood off his knife and fuck themselves with the handle of it, all those good shit, what you think? Not too far?

Day XX - Sue Storm and The Thing are in an undercover mission which leaves Human Torch (Chris Evans), reader and Mr Fantastic (John Krasinski) alone in the same building. Johnny and reader use their free time to fuck, waking Reed from his sleep who is both frustrated and horny from reader's moans, he gets to the scene and finds Johnny fucking reader while holding him standing, this makes Reed turn feral and joins them to make a really dirty night

Day XXI - Mike Schmidt x kinky male reader who introduces him to the world of BDSM. Mike being a sub top with a praise kink, breeding kink, pet play (like having a leash on him and such) and other nasty things! Maybe even a bit of edging, like M/N punishing him by cockwarming him without letting him cum for a good while, leaving Mike needy and desperate to fill his boyfriends tight hole with his warm seed😮‍💨

Day XXII- ross lynch x onlyfans creator!reader, reader is recording himself for his only fans and as he is fingering himself ross walks in to his room and sees his roommate knuckles deep so reader gets an idea and stands up invites ross to come join and ross jumps on to the bed and start rimming him and fucks him like a slut and after they finish ross puts a cute little diamond butt plug

Day XXIII- soft dom soap x sub male reader where reader tries to be bratty to push soap but soap just treats him kindly like “oh you poor thing have I been neglecting you?” But like not in a mocking way and reader breaks kinda quickly and is good for soap enter babbling reader while soap coos praises

Day XXIV - Dom top Felix and bottom femboy male Reader where the middle of the night Felix catches reader in his bedroom fucking himself with a dildo moaning Felix's name saying fuck me Daddy so Felix steps into the room grabs Reader by the hair and starts fucking his face with big cock saying you want Daddy to fuck you and while Felix is fucking the Reader's face uses the dildo to fuck the reader then Felix is fills the reader's mouth full of cum and make some swallow then turns the reader on his hands and knees and just starts fucking the reader on the bed pulls him against his chest grabs his throat and just starts fucking him as hard as he can with the reader screaming Daddy Felix spanking the reader Felix just filling him full of cum reader belongs to Daddy now then the next morning Felix is fucking the reader as hard as he can against the window of the bedroom

Day XXV - Hiram Lodge and stepson femboy bottom male reader where Hiram has secretly been having sex with his stepson and turning him into his slutty bottom boy today alone for the whole month of October and Rita's dressing up in the slutty little school girl outfit with the mini skirt and thong and heels and Hiram and him want to try bondage so he gets all the equipment and Hiram ties the Reader's hands behind his back as Reader licks hiram's muscles and I'm face fucking male reader till he fills his mouth full of c** and then just starts fucking him while he's tied up pulling his hair and putting a ball gag in the Reader's mouth with bondage kink come eating muscle worship daddy kink and Hiram talking about getting reader pregnant if that's okay

Day XXVI - Logan howlette making ftm reader wear a bunny langire after his workout coming back all musky and sweaty all pent up and fucks male reader while male reader licks up logans sweat etc. Making logans smell kink and breed kink go off and fully breads male reader / size difference with Wolverine and an FTM reader. Logan is much bigger and stronger than reader and can pick him up, pin him down, and throw him around with ease and both of them go bonkers for it. Logan loves the control and power he has to play with reader as he pleases and reader loves feeling overpowered and in Logan's complete control

Day XXVII - sub!thicc femboy ftm reader x dom!homelander where reader is a supe in the seven who is stronger than all the heros and especially homelander but not strong enough in bed?? homelander finds reader in his apartment right in his room trying on the shortest skirts that shows his ass and pink high stockings, reader trys to explain before he gets his ass eaten and fucked raw until he cant breathe properly. i want some breeding kinks and alot of spanking, and ass worship if thats okay? i know ur busy but im just requesting this only if you have time, please and thank you.

Day XXVIII- X-Men 97 magneto and younger 18 year oldbottom femboy male reader loves that magneto so much older than him and has a daddy kink so when they're alone he catches magneto and nothing but a pair purple underwear so he starts kissing magneto licking down his muscles does magneto poses you sucking on his nipples and licking his abs body kissing down licking on his muscles drop to his knees and starts sucking magnetos big cock and balls magnet o moaning and calling reader a good boy grabbing his hair starts face fucking him then magneto pics reader up and starts fucking him right there till he feels him so full of c** and then throws reader over his desk and just keeps fucking him daddy kink breeding Kink and cum eating kink maybe you had Magneto's power somehow for bondage maybe readers power to make someone feel pleasure or pain how you want to do it maybe

Day XXIX - Step brother Tyler Lawrence Gray rough fucks his big bubble but step brother and cums in him

Day XXX - rafe cameron x thicc/male reader x topper x barry your dads is a football coach and rafe, topper, and barry are his star players so he invites them over and you get called down the stairs and they all just start staring at you and your juicy ass so as the night goes on whenever they walk by you they rub their bulges your ass or whenever you bend down to pick something up they always touch your ass…. After a while your dad goes to sleep and rafe, topper and barry goes into your room and they talk to you and rafe starts sitting on your bed and rubbing your thighs and then they finally convince you to have a foursome and they take turns eating your ass and while rafe is fuckin your ass he tells you not to be so loud your dad is sleeping so barry puts his dick in your mouth and you start sucking and your jerking off topper and they take turns and after awhile you are just fucked out with some many loads up your ass and rafe grabs his phone and spreads open your ass to take a video but after he’s done Barry and topper clean you out with their tongues and rafe helps you put your clothes on and in the morning your dad ask why are you limping and rafe laughs

Day XXXI - James mcavoy fic where James is reader’s dad best friend and he is coming over to stay for the summer reader and James don’t really get along at first. But one night James comes out the shower while reader is still awake and James ends up fucking him and eating him out hard and has him worship James body through scent and kissing etc

[the-flaneur]

lights, camera...cook? (mv1) | pt2

pairing: max verstappen x east asian twitch chef!reader [smau]

summary: max does not know how to cook. luckily, his next-door neighbour and resident internet chef might be able to help him out of his pickle. quite literally.

warnings: none (i think)

wc: 1716 + social media posts

a/n: thank you for all the support and love for pt1 ❤️ - hopefully pt2 is just as entertaining :)

additional pic creds: toka (youtube)

[prev] [masterlist] [requests]

-> twitch, cooking mommy

-> twitter

-> irl

“Mate, are you sure we’re supposed to get up at 6am to meet her? I need to sleep,” Lando whines over the phone, as Max rolls his eyes.

“She’s giving you the opportunity to eat at a Michelin star restaurant and you’re saying no,” Max snaps back, toying with Sassy, who’s climbed onto his lap from his gaming desk.

“Well count me in. Alexandra’s been pestering me to ask you if she could visit the restaurant and meet her as well. She’s a massive fan already,” Charles grins as Alexandra laughs at his quip

“When we all meet her,” Max says, “you can ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“Fine I’ll go then. Meet at the restaurant?” Lando groans.

☆

In the early dawn of the crisp December day, there were very few passerbys on the street. Those that were there, their eyes lingered on the small group standing at the entrance to Le Louis XV. It was Max, Lando and Charles, standing awkwardly and awaiting your arrival. 

You and Max had been exchanging a multitude of texts, ranging from cat pics to his maxplaining of F1 technicalities to the best recipes for homemade stroopwafel. Max would even say (hopefully), that the two of you had even begun delving into the domain of flirty friends, with your quick wit and humour, a complement to Max’s deadpan yet very humorous attitude. 

You had mentioned off-handedly wanting to meet Max in real life. It had gone on throughout the entire week, before you had invited him out to lunch at Le Louis XV. 

At first he was ready to excitedly accept your invitation; he had never actually met you in real life and really wanted to talk to you about you. But when he had stopped and actually re-read your message, his doubts about your intentions began creeping in.

What if you were only there to help him cook? What if he had taken it the wrong way? What if you didn’t actually like him, like he thought? Just wanting to be friends? What i-

Max, he chided, you’re being ridiculous. But just for good measure, he surmised, he invited Charles and Lando too. And that’s how he dragged them both (well only Lando, Charles had come quite willingly) out to a lunch “date” with the four of you.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, the babies refused to let me leave this morning,” you yelled as you ran up to the group. 

Max was in awe.

You were gorgeous. He had already seen your pictures on your Instagram and on Twitch, but you were a real knockout in real life. Not in like the high-end supermodel way (although Max would’ve loved to see you grace the cover of a magazine if he was a horny teenager), but in the way which it felt like you were an angel on Earth, delicate and pretty, and a smile as innocent as-

“FUCK!” you swore, accidentally stumbling down the last step before the restaurant’s entrance. Max rushed forward to catch you and your bags, as they went flying towards the group. As he caught you in his arms, you looked up at him and grinned. 

“Did I fall for you?” you laughed, allowing Max to push you back up as you graciously took your bags back from him and gave him a tight hug.

“Hi Maxie. Hello Charles and Lando, nice to finally meet you! Max has loves to talk about you guys-” 

“Hi,” Max blushed at the nickname, avoiding the smirking glances of Charles and Lando as they watched that interaction. Charles and Lando quickly shook your proffered hand, before trailing behind you as you unlocked the door to the restaurant.

The intense decadent and luxury was not lost on the three, as you ascend the gilded ornate stairs. The walls were lined with classical paintings, china and candles; the Le Louis XV was truly a stark contrast of the modest personality of its namesake, instead harkening back to his predecessor, Louis XIV. Afterall, one must live according to la dolce vita.

As you began rambling on about the history and position of the restaurant in the heart of Monaco, from beside you, Max stared longingly. You were literally perfect, a great cook, funny, witty, a great conversationalist and listener, and a cat lover: what more could he want in someone?

“He’s never going to stop talking about her, is he?” Charles laughs, watching the two of you converse intensely about the climate and geography of Monaco and its food production. 

“No way mate,” Lando smiles, watching you blush at Max’s comments.

☆

“I’ve just prepared a small meal for us. It’s a bit more difficult deciding what to cook for three F1 drivers, considering our usual guests,” you smiled, pushing over a series of dishes on a cart. Their eyes bulged out when they saw your “small meal”, which actually consisted of at least eight different kinds of cheese, six starters and seven mains and a tiered display of an assortment of desserts, no less.

“Max already warned me about your…distaste for fish, Lando. So don't worry about the fish-looking dishes. They’re definitely not what you think they taste. Like this one is actually veal grilled with chard and girolle mushroom,” you gestured towards a gorgeous dish, plated with golden mushrooms and deep maroon chard. 

“Now enjoy the cooking of Le Louis XV!”  

The three men could definitely see why you were the executive chef of the three Michelin star restaurant. Between quiet conversation about everything and anything, every bite was desired and savoured, the flavours exploding on the tongue or simply melting off the dish.

The cheeses were flavoursome, some creamy and others intense, but all gorgeous with a pairing of wine (or gin and tonic in Max’s case). The starters and mains were all cooked to perfection, tender yet firm, and packed intensely full of rich aromatics and spices. The desserts were truly the cherry on top, light and fluffy, beautifully contrasting the mains.

The conversation quickly turned to you, with Lando and Charles interrogating about your life, career and everything in between. Max had tried to stop them from grilling you too much, but you seemed to enjoy all the questions, answering each one with a laugh and a smile. You were not starstruck by the trio, but appreciated their deep friendship and care for one another, especially as they asked about you and Max. You enjoyed the company of people who genuinely seemed to like you and your cooking, and it was one of the happier lunches at the restaurant in the past year.

Your mind wandered off as the three began talking about the upcoming 2024 F1 season (despite it still being another three months away). Although you and Max had not said anything yet, you knew there was a deeper connection just waiting to blossom.

It was just a matter of time.

☆

“It was lovely meeting you two today, hopefully we can catch up soon enough. I’ll message Alex for a lunch date Charles,” you promised, gifting them both a small boxed cake, before heading off with Max.

“Now to your apartment, my lady?” Max joked, as you started to enter your address in his GPS. Although he knew Monaco like the back of his hand, he didn’t want to accidentally drop you off on the other side of the country (even if he wanted to spend more time with you).

A small ding alerted Max’s attention back to you, and his eyebrow furrowed when he read the display on the screen.

“DESTINATION: HOME”

“You live here?” you both turned to each other, surprised. Max had no idea that you lived in the same building as he did, while you were surprised that you hadn’t already recognised the view from Max’s apartment in his streams and photos. 

“When did you move in? I swear I’ve never seen you before,” Max asked, slowly pulling away from the curb and back onto the road.

“Well I trained in Lyon for three years, then I moved to Marseille for six months before I visited Monaco. My father’s old friend Ducasse then asked in 2018, if I wanted to become his apprentice at the restaurant, and train to become the executive chef eventually. So I left and moved to Monaco in 2019,”

“And you’ve been living and working here ever since?” Max sighed. If only he had maybe stepped outside his apartment more than three times excluding the F1 season, he could’ve met you a lot sooner.

☆

Entering the elevator, you and Max both moved to press your apartment number on the panel, your fingers brushing against each other as you pressed adjacent buttons. You quickly tore your hand away, hiding it behind your pants, as the elevator began to move upwards.

“What a coincidence that we live beside each other,” you awkwardly laughed, staring at yourself in the mirror. The elevator was once again filled with quiet silence, as the elevator near the top.

“Hey…”

“Max…”

“Oh you go first,” you laughed, staring up at Max.

“IreallylikedyourcompanytodayIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogooutonadatelikejustthetwoofus?” Max said hurriedly, his eyes straying from your gaze. You let out a small gasp, before a beaming smile was plastered across your face.

“I would love to, Max! I thought you would never ask,” you smiled bashfully, grinning at him as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out and awkwardly lingered in the hallway between your two apartments, not wanting to say goodbye just yet. “Thank you for today Max. I can’t wait to see you again,” you smiled, placing a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek. His eyes widened before looking down at your playful ones which sparkled in the light. A hot flush spread across his face, his hand reaching out to grasp your own. However, you quickly stepped back from his grasp, skipping down the hall to reach your own door.

“Also Maxie, I would love for you to come by my apartment some time,” you giggled, waving at him, before you closed your door behind you. Max stepped into his apartment and with a blush and a grin out into the Monaco harbour, he was struck with a sudden realisation.

It wasn’t just a major crush. He was in love.

[next]

series taglist

@lyannesworld @heavy-vettel @bloodyymaryyy @therealplaguedoctor @gigigreens

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰CHARLES LECLERC.

xv. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain

— the one where you broke his heart 'cause he was nice.

❝𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘖𝘩, 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥?❞ —𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐘, 𝟏𝟑.

warnings: angst, not proofread and pls go easy on me i'm coming out of the worst block everrrrrrrrrr. our girlie is making poor choices pls hate her a bit for it, the last bit is charles centered. 2.23k words (+articles!)

masterlist ✢ next

by Tom Gill

The worst time to have a carreer on Public Relations is when your client is as unhinged as y/n y/ln has proven to be. Many people, myself included, can't help but feel sorry for whoever is on her team because there's only so much someone can do to put out a fire when the person burning is the same one who keeps lighting the matches.

y/n just can't stop messing up, can she? Just when her fans thought she would rise from the ashes with an outstanding movie deal, the 'Queen of Romcoms' has to go ahead and mess things up by proving that people who aren't blinded by her master manipulations are right: y/n y/ln is in fact a cheating snake.

The Deuxmoi post talking about an actress involved with a Formula 1 driver and her presence at the Italian Grand Prix last Sunday are enough confirmation of the fact. y/n is not ashamed to be seen on broad daylight with the guy that broke off her engagement.

Don't kill the messenger, y/n fans. Aidan Kim and Victoria Presley did warn you.

New York, United States, September 10th.

It feels like you've just finished unpacking when you find yourself throwing stuff in a suitcase once again. There is little to none excitement in you as you decide between a couple of blouses and recite Amy's lines outloud inside your messy apartment.

"Wait—that's not right," you huff, unaware that you've let the blouse you like the least inside the suitcase. The lines slip your mind like butter on a pan. Honestly, you've started to wonder if several of your braincells died in the past month. Nothing other than 'I want to be great or nothing' seem to have stuck. So much for how well that single line applies to your life.

"'It looks like it's never done a day of work in its life'," you mutter, picking the script up from the dining table. You have studied it a million times, gone through lines and rehearsals and a thousand other things. You have called Greta and Timothée and Saoirse and they have called you on their own accord to agree the accurate tones of scenes and interactions, and yet you are sure you are still going to mess everything up once the camera starts rolling. "God, help me."

The clock on your phone tells you it's 9:30 a.m. and you are nowhere being done with your luggage. Also, Charles' plane lands in less than an hour and you are not making it to the airport in time. He has a busy month race-wise and he has still made some time to come to New York before you leave for Boston in a couple days and you are both turned upside down with the Asian race-tour.

There is one reason—and one reason only— that Mildred has agreed that you should have these two days off. That reason is not Charles Leclerc, given the fact that she has grown to hate him even if she can admit, albeit to herself only, that he has done nothing wrong. You are supposed to be preparing more interviews and then a prolonged stage of silence while you focus on filming Little Women. Mildred has a whole plan laid out and that is another script you have to follow. No improvisations though, you have been warned.

─────────

Time has a funny way of passing by when it comes to Charles and yourself. Your whole relationship feels contained in a moment and also in a century, and every time you see each other again, even after just a few days a whole other bubble of time seems to have passed. You think it's Charles' way of making it feel special, making you feel special by looking at you like you're a part of him he's constantly missing when you're not right next to him. A 'lovesick fool' you have heard him been nicknamed by people who try to be nice, at least a little bit. Others sneer at how they can't wait for the 'honeymoon phase' to be over.

And it's precisely the way he looks at you before he's crushing you against his chest that makes you hold your tongue for the rest of the day. You cannot bring yourself to tell him the plan the people around you have made without asking for your input—much lesser his— to salvage your career and your reputation.

It nags at you how stupid you're being. Maybe some part of your brain did die between Sunday and today, but you are certain you won't be able to bear the disappointment in Charles' eyes when he finds out what you agreed to.

This visit is less touristy than the last time Charles came to New York. He's leaving tomorrow and you, the day after for Boston, so you want to bask in each other's company as much as possible. You go to a cupcake place and take pictures, all while Charles re-tells everything people have said about his win on Sunday. He's become even more of the Golden Boy he already was in the eyes of Ferrari fans, and you feel love swell in your chest at the fact. You love that he's loved, there's nothing he deserves more than to be loved.

"Will you show me the script now?" Charles asks, taking his light jacket off as he crosses the door to your apartment. A slight feeling of embarrassment flashes through you when you focus on the different disasters around the house but Charles either doesn't notice or doesn't mind as he makes himself comfortable on the couch where several pairs of your shoes are scattered.

"I think it would violate my contract somehow if I did," you chuckle, noticing that your travel kit toothbrush and toiletries are on the coffee table. "I was sure I had those in my luggage already," you groan, pointing at them.

Charles laughs, patting the spot next to him and motioning you over excitedly. "Can I see it please?" he elongates the 'e', with a mocking puppy eye look on his face. "Read me some of your favorite lines," he's suggested so several times and you refuse him every single one. It's not like he hasn't seen you act, Charles admitted in one of your phone calls to have binged all of your movies.

"I can't," you fall into the couch next to him, wrapping one arm around his neck. "You make me nervous, it won't turn out good."

"You see me work all the time," he grumbles against your hair, "And you too, make me nervous. You're being unfair."

"Oh, booohooo," you mock, nuzzling into his neck. "Your job is far more exciting than me reciting lines."

"It is not—"

His complaint is cut short as you kiss him, once, twice, so many times you lose count and he kisses you back between snickers and fake complaints about how there's only so much his heart can take before it explodes. It's so cheesy it makes you both cringe and burst with laughter before starting the scene all over again.

A re-run of a Foodnetwork reality show is playing in the background when you open your eyes after a short-lived nap. Charles is swiping through his phone with his other arm around you, the light in the apartment has faded almost completely giving way to late evening.

"Do you want to go out for dinner?" you ask pushing off of Charles' body and sit and rub your eyes. "Or should we order something?"

He locks his phone and stretches, still laying on his back. "Whatever you want to do, soleil."

You two are way too comfortable in your little cocoon to mess it up by going outside just to eat. Charles smiles, knowing you've already made your mind up.

You argue on the couch for ten minutes about what take-out to get and after you've finally placed the order on your phone, you get up to make some space the dining table.

"Here," you throw the bunch of papers at him softly. The 'Little Women' script is anotated from page one, and it is true that you probably shouldn't be showing it to him, but it doesn't really hurt anyone either. "Not a word, do you hear me, Leclerc?"

Charles laughs before crossing his heart with his index finger, eager to read about your next big thing.

You throw more stuff on your open suitcase, wipe the table down and look through your kitchen for an unopened bottle of wine while Charles reads and occassionally shouts something from the living room. He's so genuinely excited about seeing you bring Amy to life on the silver screen.

"Gooodddd, what's taking them so long?" you whine as you return to the living room. The 'your order is in progress' notification still alive on the screen of your phone. Charles doesn't seem to mind as he makes space for you to sit with him again.

"Couch potato," you stick your tongue out at him, placing your feet on his lap after reaching for the TV remote. You surf through a few channels, trying to remember what the name was of that crime documentary you wanted to watch on Netflix.

"...y/n y/ln making headlines again with her messy love life," the E! Show that's starting has your picture and Charles' next to each other.

Charles' eyes move from the last pages of the script to the TV and then to you. "Change the channel, love," he says as he reaches for the remote himself.

"Yeah," you click on the Netflix logo on the remote and the screen goes black as your phone pings, letting you know your food has been delivered to your apartment complex's lobby.

─────────

There is something beautiful about domestic life with Charles even if it just exists for scarce moments like this. The smell of coffee and the sound of his humming lull you into a peaceful state of mind as you prepare breakfast before once again leaving for the airport.

Messages from Mildred, three or four already, remind you that you must be ready for the list of things she had also reminded you of a million times already.

'how did he take it?' you read from your phone, Mildred again.

You look at Charles and open your mouth. Maybe now that he's leaving in a couple hours you'll work up the courage to tell him about how Mildred is staging your break-up right this second. Which means nothing, right? Keeping it lowkey is for the best, even for him.

Right?

You open your mouth and close it several times looking at your disheveled boyfriend and his sweet smile.

"What?"

"There's something I have to tell you," you breathe out, screwing the already too tight cap on the empty bottle of orange juice that rests on the table.

"So tell me," Charles' smile widens as he puts both elbows on the table, ready to listen.

"I'm really going to miss you." you chuckle awkwardly, and there is momentary gesture, barely perceptible, in Charles' face that tells you he knows that's not what you really wanted to say.

"Me too soleil, but we'll figure it out," he's reaching for your hand with a weaker smile on his face this time.

AFTER months of speculation about the nature of y/n's relationship with Formula 1 Pilot Charles Leclerc, a spokesperson for the actress has made an exclusive statemen for PEOPLE.

"They have never been romantically-involved," the source said. "Their friendship is undeniable but there's nothing more than that."

y/ln and Leclerc have been linked since April and spotted in public together several times, including at the Italian Grand Prix on September 3rd.

"Since becoming friendly they've ran into each other at several events," the source continues, "They are often surrounded by friends they have in common, such as Matilde Bassi and Timothée Chalamet. y/n knows it's too soon to put herself out there romantically."

Despite a rumor surfacing on an online gossip site that they took a romantic vacation together in Greece, y/n's spokesperson tells PEOPLE that "pictures are often released without context to create controversy."

Charles Leclerc has been blind-sided. Which, to be fair, in his career field is something he should be used to. But the feeling doesn't compare to being blind-sided by the person who is supposed to be your partner.

Charles understands, he always understands, or at least tries his best to do so. But this time, it really feels like he's reached his limit. It's not even about how he's become even more of the laughing-stock within his group of friends about how he's been parading y/n around and defending her honor for her to call their relationship 'casual' rather than not even getting a heads-up from her about the matter.

"Is there something you would like to talk about now, y/n?" Charles questions, trying his best not to let the anger flow into his voice.

Charles thinks the worst part is how long she stays silent, but it's not even close to what comes next.

"I tried telling you," she lies.

"When?" there is no point in hiding his anger anymore, even if he doesn't want to fight. This is one of those unavoidable things you expect to hit somewhere down the road in the relationship, not a month into it.

"I TRIED!" she repeats, unable to come up with any argument in her defense.

"You never tried! See that's the thing about you, you just wait for things to happen and then you 'try' to deal with the mess!" His accent is thickening with every word.

"If it bothers you so much—"

"What bothers me," he cuts her off, "Is how you cannot trust me with these things? What did you think I would say?!"

"Exactly what you're saying now, Charles," she sounds defeated and it manages to irk him an extra mile. "You don't understand—"

"I don't understand how you still care more about what people are going to say than about talking to me. I'm your boyfriend!"

There is another long silence during which he can hear faint yelling in the background of her side of the line. On his side of the world it's nearly midnight.

"I've been thinking," y/n nearly gasps, "That maybe we rushed things."

"Rushed things?" his voice is so small now he wonders if it can really travel half-way through the world.

"I— Maybe Mildred is right— I wasn't, I am not ready for a relationship." She stammers, and Charles can picture her pinching her thigh in that nervous tick she can't quite manage to get rid of.

"You can't even take responsibility for your own feelings?"

It's always Aidan, Victoria, Mildred... a handy list of people to put part of the blame on for when she doesn't want to say things herself.

And Charles accepts it. He accepts her messes because he wants her, but now apparently y/n doesn't even want him back.

"What do you even mean by that?" y/n scoffs.

"Can you even be honest with me, then? Say that it is you who doesn't want this relationship, y/n, don't put it on—"

"I'M NOT PUTTING IT ON ANYONE! THIS HAS BEEN A MISTAKE SINCE WE LEFT MYKONOS I—"

Charles didn't want to fight and now there is nothing to fight for, anyway. So he hangs the phone up, because sometimes things end in silence.

It's three am, and Charles Leclerc just got his heart broken.

─── team principal radio: ❝why hello there, i don't even know if you remember this fic but it is for my own peace of mind that I have to finish it!!! also i love these characters a lot, even when they're acting so selfish and stupid—looking at you y/n. Thank you if you are still here and like me, had to reread it to get to this chapter.❞

✰ paddock club members: NO PADDOCK CLUB THIS TIME BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW IF ANYONE STILL WANTS TO BE TAGGED.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XV)

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

Hi! Here is new chapter! New Year’s Eve is upon us… let’s see what happens!! ;)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3646

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Edge

Time and again, time and again I tie My heart to that headboard While my quilted cries Harden against his hand. He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets In water? Over Mother’s lace I watch his drive into the gored Roasts, deal slivers in his mercy… I can feel his thighs Against me for the children’s sakes. Reward? Mornings, crippled with this house, I see him toast his toast and test His coffee, hedgingly. The waste’s my breakfast.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

The plan was simple.

Or rather… it wasn’t simple, per say, but it was feasible. Which, considering that you were attempting to make your ex fall in love with you again after he dumped you to get engaged to another woman… was already quite an achievement.

You looked at Andrew as he stood next to you. He had arrived late, had apologised profusely. You were annoyed, but you reckoned that you would have to grow used to this detail about him. He simply was always late to everything, it seemed.

He was wearing contacts today, instead of his glasses. You had noticed that he did whenever he would see Sam, probably because she preferred him without his dark brown spectacles. And he did look handsome tonight, dressed in all black, from suit to shirt and leathered shoes, with his hair tied in a bun, but still… you missed the softness that came with seeing him in glasses. You didn’t know why you felt like that. Perhaps it was because you were so used by now to see him almost every day wearing them, may it be at work or when you planned actions related to your exes, or when you simply spent time together. Maybe it was the familiarity that had grown with this sight that you missed now. Perhaps you just found him even more handsome with glasses…

You pushed the thought away, looked for Frank through the crowd. Frank and Sam were hosting, in the flat they had moved into about a month before. And it ached to see pictures of the two of them sprayed on the fridge in the kitchen. Your collection of books was gone, leaving shelves empty in the living room but for pieces of decoration and more pictures of the happy couple that tore your heart apart. There was music playing, some playlist found on Spotify, without a doubt, music you would find in a club, a music meant to party. You saw Andrew staring at the empty shelves as well, at the absence of records too; you saw his small frown as he spotted the laptop that was the source of the music. You guessed he thought the quality was terrible, but then again, you guessed he didn’t like the music in itself very much either. You imagined Frank sitting in a room to listen to old jazz records, the way you knew Andrew did sometimes, he had told you so much himself. You couldn’t picture it…

But then you looked at the pictures more carefully, and couldn’t imagine yourself in them either. They seemed to have been everywhere together. Rafting, climbing, swimming, jumping, sky-diving even… there was no museum, no cityscape, no quiet woods, no sunset over a beach. There was adventure, and thrill, more so than you could ever handle.

Was that what Frank wanted? What you couldn’t offer? Did you need to become adventurous to keep him?

Would you ever be happy if you became an explorer instead of an academic?

Were you not an explorer already anyway? You had travelled to other cities, to other countries, had moved to places where you knew no one to settle and work. You learned every day, you grew, you tried to keep your head above the water. And you went on walks in nature, you swam into the sea, you made friends and lost some along the way. Was it not enough? Did it not take enough courage already to simply live your life?

“Are you ready?”

You turned to Andrew, your partner in crime for the night. You had to move the bottles of champagne around so Andrew could find them and save the day. And then he would shine by remembering Sam didn’t like champagne…

You nodded, moving towards the kitchen.

“How do we get everybody out?”

“I can handle that,” you assured him with a mischievous wink and smile.

Indeed, there were only men in the kitchen at that moment, gathering ammunition in the form of drinks and shots for the night.

Easy peasy…

“I mean… I do believe the dress is a little much,” you told Andrew loudly enough for all four men present in the kitchen to discreetly eavesdrop on the conversation.

Andrew blinked, but played along the best he could, although you noticed the way he was shying away as a couple of men turned to the two of you without trying to be discreet. He blushed, bent his shoulders to seem smaller than he truly was.

“Really?”

“I mean… Andy… you can see her full tits at this point…”

You saw the four men exchanging glances, and hurrying outside the kitchen.

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Was that really that easy?” he asked out loud.

“Men…” was your only response, along with a roll of your eyes.

Andrew chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Are we truly that shallow?”

“Most of the time!”

You hurried to close the door, and you and Andrew hid the bottles in a cupboard, getting them out of the fridge. You were so scared of being caught that you were going too fast, almost dropping a bottle, but catching it right before it would hit the ground.

“Calm down, we’re good,” Andrew spoke in a whisper, although he kept on glancing towards the door.

“There’s no lock on that door! Anyone can come in at any moment!”

“We won’t get caught.”

“And if we are?”

“Then we’ll say it was a joke.”

“It will be so bad…”

“We won’t get caught.”

But then there were footsteps in the hallway. Two bottles left in the fridge. Andrew and you exchanged a terrified glance.

“Shit!” you both cursed at the same time, grabbing the bottles in a hurry, pushing them in the cupboard and slamming the door.

The handle moved…

Your reflex was to get closer to Andrew, to grab his hand and hold tight. He didn’t push you away, merely gasped, although you weren’t sure whether it was because of the door now beginning to open or because you were now so close to him you were basically pressed to his chest…

“Why the fuck is this door clos…”

Some people you didn’t know opened the door then, stared at you and Andrew first in surprise, and then they refrained a laugh…

You looked up at Andrew, who was staring with wide eyes at the door. You seemed only then to notice your proximity, the way you literally held onto him.

You gasped, took a couple of steps back, until your back bumped into the fridge. A hand appeared out of nowhere to slip between your head and the piece of furniture.

“You’re alright?” Andrew asked in a weak voice, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing and still high on adrenaline from your stupid plan. You nodded, moved away from him, from his palm that still cradled the back of your head…

“Fine, fine… we should…”

You hurried out of the room, away from Andrew and the brown that stained the green of his eyes, and the specks of red in his beard, and the angle of his jaw, and the softness of his touch against your hair and…

You were interrupted in your busy thoughts by Frank’s voice coming from behind you.

“Y/N! Andrew! I’m so glad you could both come!”

You spun around, noticing only then that you were back in the living room, Andrew following suit.

“Thanks for inviting us! Great party!” you complimented.

It was hard at first to regulate your breathing, to hide that your heart was beating at a thousand miles a minute. After all, you had almost been caught, and then… these people would think that you and Andrew had locked yourselves in the kitchen to… Oh, God… if Sam and Frank learned about this, all your efforts would go to waste…

“Argh! Thanks! Trying my best as a host!”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. I think it’s better to have this party here, rather than in a club.”

You regretted your words as soon as they passed your lips, knew you had made a mistake.

“We couldn’t book the place we wanted, had to settle on doing this at home instead,” Frank answered with disappointment apparent in his eyes and tone.

“It’s still very nice,” Andrew politely smiled.

“Well, I should get the champagne ready, it’ll soon be midnight!”

You and Andrew exchanged a look as your ex moved away from the crowd again, aiming his steps towards the kitchen.

“Phase one…” Andrew gave you a wink; you chose to ignore your heart’s response to his gesture.

“Time to save this party, Andy,” you teased, and he gave you a thumbs up that was so adorable, you had to blink.

Perfect plan.

Indeed, the look on Frank’s face when he discovered that the bottles had been misplaced was priceless. He called Sam for help, they looked for the bottles, didn’t find even a trace of them.

Andrew opened the right cupboard, the one where you had placed the bottles earlier, and called for Sam to show that the champagne was there.

“Oh! God! Thank you, Andy!”

He was granted a warm hug, one that made him close his eyes for a second, you noticed the relief that was written all over his features at the physical contact. He blushed as she kissed his cheek, and he was beaming when she pulled away. He gave her his bottle of prosecco, instead of waiting for midnight as it was planned, he simply couldn’t wait. She blinked up at him, gave him a warm, grateful smile.

“You always remember that,” she whispered under her breath, but you heard her words still. Frank heard them too, and you saw him glaring at Andrew.

It was working. Your crazy plan was working. Sam was still gravitating around Andrew, they were smiling. There was a pinching feeling tugging at your heart, and you ignored it. Jealousy was such an ugly feeling. And anyway, you couldn’t be jealous over Andrew effectively getting closer to Sam again, his success would be shared soon, as you hoped your plan would work for Frank and you as well. It would. You would have success, just like Andrew… that was why you were a little jealous, surely, after all…

Only, it didn’t work. It didn’t work, because instead of you pouring your glass over Sam, Sam accidentally poured her glass onto you.

You weren’t sure how it all happened. You were looking away from Andrew and Sam, staring at Frank who was laughing and joking with a friend nearby, being a perfect host. And all of a sudden, you felt something cool sipping under the fabric of your dress, turned to see Sam apologising.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy, I… I didn’t you see you there…”

You looked down at the damage, she offered to lend you some clothes immediately. You noticed how Frank’s gaze softened at her words. And you hated it. You hated her. You hated him. You hated this party and the coming of a new year and the beginnings it announced. You didn’t need a new beginning, you needed the continuation of what you used to have. And this party, this awful party where you barely knew anyone, and you weren’t having fun at all, and…

“No, don’t worry. I’m fine. I… Actually, I don’t feel very well, I think I’m gonna go home.”

You saw Andrew’s frown, the one that formed at your words.

“Already? I’m sure we can fix this!” Frank argued, and you almost yielded.

“I’m not sure we’re the same size…” Sam mumbled.

When you looked into her eyes, you knew she had done it on purpose. You knew she had poured her drink over you deliberately, perhaps because of the way you looked at Frank, or perhaps because you had come with Andrew. You didn’t know why. What was for certain was that she had ruined your dress to make you go home, and you weren’t stupid, you knew what it meant, and you weren’t up for a fight, not when Frank looked at her like that, with love…

“You could still try some of Sam’s clothes on! I’m sure we can find something,” Frank argued, trying to hold you back.

You slowly shook your head.

“I have some clothes in my car, you could change,” Andrew offered, his gaze pleading now.

You noticed how he flinched when your eyes met his.

“It’s okay. I feel a little sick anyway. I think I’ll go home.”

Frank grabbed your arm as you took a step towards the door.

“Stay at least till midnight! There’s less than an hour left! You can leave after we’ve opened the champagne, yeah?”

You wished you could have said no. But Frank’s eyes in that moment…

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you yielded, making him grin.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.”

There was such gratefulness in his gaze, something tender, almost pleading, and you fell for it, you couldn’t help it. You had fallen a thousand times over for it.

You heard Andrew heaving a sigh behind you.

You opened your mouth to speak again, but Frank was swiped away by a guest, one of your former ‘friends’, and you were left staring at the blank space he had left behind.

He was moving away, leaving you behind…

Andrew and Sam were talking, you stared as she clung onto him for a rather long time. Andrew kept on nodding, let her do most of the talking. You didn’t notice the glances he threw your way, you were too busy looking for Frank again.

You checked the time after a long while spent doing meaningless chit-chat with strangers and people you had met a couple of times before. Ten minutes to midnight.

You looked around at the loud room. Conversations, exclamations, laughter, loud music that banged in your head, hitting your skull with the heavy kick of drums. Light, glitter, colours, beautiful dresses. Frank talking with some of his colleagues he had invited, paying no attention to you. Andrew talking with Sam and smiling sweetly at her.

You looked down at your glass, a drink half-empty already, studied the stain that spread across the fabric of your dress. You had felt beautiful while getting ready. You didn’t anymore…

You could have been with your real friends, with your family… what were you doing here, during those last minutes of a dying year?

You didn’t say a word to anyone as you put your glass down on the nearest table, made your way through the crowd, grabbed your coat in the closet by the door. No one noticed you leaving anyway. Frank didn’t spare you a glance. You were leaving, and no one noticed, because no one fucking cared…

“Y/N?”

You froze, a few steps away from the elevator, your hand already rising towards the button to call for an escape.

Slowly, you turned around.

Andrew was standing in front of the door to Frank’s and Sam’s apartment. On the threshold, standing still, he was staring at you with a questioning stare.

“Where are you going? You’re alright?”

You were too stunned to answer, remained frozen, like a deer caught in headlights, your finger still erect towards the elevator…

No one had noticed you leaving, no one…

Someone did…

“Y/N? You’re okay? Are you really sick?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m just… I just want to go home. I just… I need some fresh air.”

“What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, did a terrible job at hiding your tears.

He held a finger up.

“Give me a minute. Just one minute. Don’t leave without me!”

“Andy…”

“One minute!”

He looked at you with something expectant in his eyes, almost begging…

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

He grinned, the brightest smile you had seen on his features throughout the entire night.

He disappeared into the flat again, you waited for him for a minute, and then another, hoping he would come back, hoping he wouldn’t leave you behind, hoping Andy wouldn’t leave…

But then the door was opening again, he was stepping outside while putting on his coat. He had a couple of plastic cups in his hand along with a half-full bottle of champagne.

“You should stay,” you told him, speaking in a jolt, making Andrew freeze before he would reach you.

He blinked, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You… you don’t want to talk to me?” he asked, looking down at his feet before you could answer. “I can just listen… I can be quiet if I’m boring…”

You frowned at him, taken aback by his answer.

“What are you talking about? You’re never boring, what…?”

He looked up at you again, blinking, trying to gauge your reaction.

You heaved a tired sigh.

“I just meant… that Sam was spending quality time with you, you… it was working for you tonight. You should stay, use that chance to talk to her and make her see the truth. Besides, it’s…” you looked down at your watch. “Two minutes to midnight. Don’t you want to be with the people you love most for the final countdown? Don’t you want to enter the new year with Sam?”

You saw Andrew blinking, but couldn’t read through his expression. It wasn’t blank, nor emotionless, but it remained unreadable.

Slowly, he walked over to you. He raised his hand, called for the lift without saying a word.

You stared at him with tears in your eyes.

The doors opened with a ding, you didn’t move, didn’t even flinch at the sound. Andrew stepped inside, caught your soul as he looked into your eyes when he turned to you.

“Aren’t you coming?”

You followed him.

Not a word was spoken as the doors closed, as the cabin went down the shaft, as it stopped with a gentle shaking of its cables. You stepped onto the freezing street in silence, looked at Dublin empty in this quiet neighbourhood. There were lights at every window though, some of them were open on laughter and joy and loud shouts and music that flooded into the quiet night. Far away, you could hear the whisper of traffic and honking cars, making noise while awaiting a beginning.

Andrew poured you a drink while the seconds ticked away, fluttering and fainting into the past. A past that lingered in your present still. Would it always be there, haunting the seconds to come, and the minutes they would build, and the hours, and the days, and the years?

Andrew handed you a glass, put down the bottle by his feet. You were standing under a tall oak tree, planted there in the middle of the city, a square of fertile soil in the void of manmade roads. Andrew stared at a flower that grew there, at the foot of a lamppost, just a weed growing despite the concrete.

He looked up with a tender smile on his face, raised his glass.

“Sláinte,” his voice rose above the first number of the countdown.

“Sláinte,” you answered with a smile of your own, a gesture that started shy but that grew stronger the longer you looked up at him, at the brown that stained the green of his eyes, and the specks of red in his beard, and the angle of his jaw, and the softness of his touch as his palm rose to cradle your face.

Five!

The shouts echoed from everywhere around you, deafening even if they were quietened by windowpanes. You heard the quiet gasp Andrew took before downing his whole glass, and you did the same. Your gaze met the stars that hung up there, on the firmament, for a moment, while your head was tilted back to drink the last bit of the cold buzz in your cup, to gather the tingling of bubbles on your tongue. They looked distant and cold, reassuring somehow. They were always there, always shining, even after they had died. The image you saw was millions, maybe billions of years old. The past was even up there, in the sky. And yet the moon shone for a new night.

Four!

You giggled as you swallowed, looking at Andrew again. And he did too, his cheeks flushed by alcohol, by the cold too. The tip of his nose had reddened as well. The lamplight was golden on his eyelashes.

Three!

“Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” you asked out of the blue, blaming the liquor you had been steadily drinking throughout the evening for the incoherence of your words. “I thought you liked them better than contacts.”

Two!

“Sam prefers when I wear contacts.”

You reached up to touch his cheekbones, to let your fingertips graze over the soft skin, along the sharpness left by the bone under it. He closed his eyes, gasped when you brushed his eyelids and lashes.

One!

“I think you should wear whatever you like. Although… I love your eyes. And you look soft with your glasses on. It makes me feel safe.”

He opened his eyes again, stared at you as your hands moved down to rest on the edge of his jaw, pinkie fingers barely skimming over his neck.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Andrew leaned down to press his lips to your forehead. You closed your eyes under the warmth of his skin, the softness of his lips, the roughness of his beard…

You felt dizzy as he kissed you, staying against your skin for too long, pulling away too slowly. You wished he hadn’t stopped…

He gave you a tender smile as he looked into your eyes again.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

You smiled, grinned even. You reached up, going on your tiptoes to drop a long, tender kiss on his cheek. It landed by the corner of his mouth.

“Happy New Year, Andy.”

[fire-of-the-sun]

Fan-made Final Fantasy XV Posters

CREATOR'S NOTES:

Petition for Square Enix to release the high-quality versions of these renders, please? I really wanted to make some kind of poster for this game, but the only images I could find were so small and low quality, I almost didn't bother. Couldn't resist messing around in Photoshop anyway though and my tinkering spiraled into this, so I'd thought I'd share regardless.

I love Noctis' kingly raiment, so I really wanted to Photoshop him to be wearing it. I know it's technically flipped but I had to match the light source. I also gave Noctis his blue eyes back and cleaned the dirt off his face and clothes.

I really wanted to use Kingsglaive's Luna over the version from the game as I personally think that version pairs particularly well alongside older Noctis, just saying...

Creating Ardyn's magic was tricky and took a lot of experimentation to find the right custom brushes, but I hope the final result is close enough. I also edited one half of Ardyn's face to look corrupt with black dripping from his glowing yellow eye and some 'damaged' looking skin.

To create the floating crystals, I took images of actual diamonds, cut them into small pieces and placed them individually around the image before adding lens flares and glowing effects... which was about as tedious as it sounds.

If anyone knows where I can get my hands on some high-quality versions of these images, please let me know and I'll happily remake these posters! Hope you guys enjoy these regardless of the poor quality and let me know which version is your favorite!

(Please do not edit / steal / repost elsewhere without permission)

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xxi

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Richie's gone. Sam and Tara rush to the police station, and R gets a visit from someone she hoped to never see again.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Mention of sex, violence.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: it's here! GF final reveal. as mentioned previously, I'm going to try keep the blog spoiler free for the next 48 hours, so won't be posting spoilery asks, but please still feel free to send them through! I'll post them a little later :))))) hope you all enjoy, and I hope your theory was correct!

Nobody says anything for a good twenty seconds.

The Sheriff’s face is stony. Serious. 

You feel as if your heart has just dropped down into your stomach. 

Tara’s hand grips tight on your hip. 

Sam blinks, mouth open like a fish out of water. 

And then it’s her who breaks the silence. 

“He’s gone?” 

She blinks once more. Her words turn into a splutter. 

“But he’s dead.” 

The Sheriff swallows. You almost feel bad for her, the way she wrings her hat in her hands like she’s standing in front of a courthouse of jurors. 

“He was admitted to the morgue,” She explains, voice soft, “There was a fifteen minute window where the Coroner was off shift. We think it happened then.” 

“You think what happened?” You ask, heartbeat hammering loudly in your ears, “You think he got up and walked out?” 

“No,” Says the Sheriff, a little impatient, “He was dead. He’s definitely dead-” 

“And you lost him?” Tara asks, her voice rising, “You lost a dead guy?”

The Sheriff looks at Sam. 

“Perhaps we should do this somewhere more private?” 

“Absolutely not,” Sneers Tara, “You don’t exactly have a track record of asking the right questions, Sheriff.” 

Except she does. And you know it. You touch Tara’s arm, try to quiet her. 

Let’s not piss off the person who can haul you right back to jail, the look in your eyes says. 

But Sam crosses her arms. 

“Tara stays. She’s right, Sheriff. First you try to pin six murders on her, then you lose the actual culprit. The dead culprit.”  

The Sheriff purses her lips. 

“I’m not here to argue,” She says, directing a pointed look at your girlfriend, “But I am here to find out what happened. Whoever Richie was working with likely took his body. Why? I don’t know. But I need answers. And fast.” 

Sam furrows her brow. 

“I don’t know who he was working with,” She says, “I didn’t even know what he was doing in his spare time. Hell, I had no idea who he truly was.”

She sounds a little agonized. Like it’s her fault her boyfriend almost had her sister killed. 

“But you knew him.” Says the Sheriff, “You knew his patterns, his friends, his routine. If we can pin down some names, we might be able to find the culprit.” 

She stands a little taller. 

“And I’d like you to come down to the station and help me figure it out. Please.”  

Sam looks at Tara, a little torn.

“I need to be here with my sister.” She says. 

“Your sister will be fine,” Says the Sheriff, “I can arrange for a squad car. Two, if you need it. She’ll be safe, Sam. They won’t let anything happen to her.” 

“Fuck that,” Says Tara, “We’re coming. Down to the station. Sam, I’m not letting you talk to them alone.”

There’s fire in her voice. Fire that usually only sparks when it comes to you. You blink, a little surprised. Sam seems to be surprised by it too, going off the look on her face. 

“That really isn’t necessary.” Cuts in the Sheriff, hurriedly, “Tara, it’s really better if I talk to Sam alone-”

“You’re not talking to Sam without me,” Growls Tara. 

The Sheriff blinks, her shoulders drawn tight like she’s gearing for a fight. And then she slumps them. 

“Alright,” She says, voice even, “What matters is finding Richie and his partner. Tara can be with you.” 

Sam swallows. She nods, only slightly. 

“I’ll get my jacket.” 

-

You’re halfway into climbing into the Sheriff’s squad car when a familiar Ford Focus pulls into the driveway. 

It’s your Mom’s car. You spot her behind the wheel, looking a little forlorn as she hurries to step out. 

And then you see your Dad. Face pinched. Annoyed. Like this is the last place he wants to be. 

“One second,” You tell the Sheriff, and before she can protest, you’re climbing out of the backseat and stepping out onto the drive. 

“YN,” Says your Mom, a little out of breath as she approaches. 

Your Dad hovers by the car, scowl on his face as he surveys Tara in the backseat of the squad car. Your Mom’s eyes widen. 

“She’s not been arrested again?” 

“No, Mom,” You huff, “The Sheriff just needs Sam’s help on something, that’s all.” 

“Oh,” Says your Mom. Then her voice softens, “Darling, please. Come home with us. We all need to talk.” 

“I don’t think so, Mom.” You begin, “Not when Dad’s acting- crazy, like this.” 

You look over at him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Tara. Glaring, eyes frosted over. Like he hates her more than anyone else in the world. 

“Dad has agreed to listen,” Your Mom begs, “Please, sweetheart. He knows he overreacted about the- sex,” Her voice drops, like she’s just said something scandalous, “But the other things - the arrest. The manslaughter?”

“Self-defense,” You say immediately. 

Your Mom swallows. 

“The self-defense. We need to talk about it. You’re still our daughter. Our only daughter. And we’re worried about you.” 

You shoot a look over to the squad car. 

The Sheriff is watching, her eyes pinched. Sam’s watching your Dad, but Tara is looking at you. 

“Babe?” She says from the car, voice soft, “What is it?” 

It isn’t the worst idea in the world. They’re still your parents, after all. You don’t want this - your Dad angry at you. Angry at Tara. You don’t want to ruin your relationship with them if it can be salvaged. 

Your Mom blinks, desperation in her eyes. You soften, pursing your lips. 

“I’m going to go with my parents,” You tell Tara, “My Mom is right. We should talk.” 

Tara sits up. She pries off her seatbelt immediately. 

“I’ll come.” Tara says, climbing out of the car. 

“No.” Your Dad growls from the car. You ignore him. Rub your hands over Tara’s forearms. 

“Babe, it’s fine. You need to go with Sam,” You remind her. You lower your voice, “You need to be in there, make sure she’s okay. Like you said." 

Tara looks at you, conflicted.

“But, babe-” 

“I’ll be fine,” You assure, “I’ll be with my parents. You and Sam can come and pick me up from the house when you’re done.”

“But Ghostface-”

“Isn’t going to attack me in broad daylight,” You say, “Besides. My Dad’s arsenal is almost as big as Sam’s. Remember?” 

Tara looks at your Dad, a little doubtful. 

“She’ll be fine, Tara, I’ll send in a squad car.” Says The Sheriff, looking over the rim of her sunglasses at you, “But if you want to go, I don’t mind talking to Sam alone-” 

Her tone of voice suggests she very much wants Tara to stay with you. Tara picks it up the same moment you do. Her eyes narrow. Sam's an easy target - Richie's girlfriend, perhaps she could even be sold as his partner in crime.

“You’re not talking to Sam without me,” She says, voice a growl. She shimmies out of the backseat and presses a kiss to your lips, “Keep your phone on,” She says, “Text me every five minutes, okay?” 

You nod. 

“Okay, babe.” You assure, offering her a small smile. 

She kisses you once more. 

“And be careful.” 

-

The drive back to your parents house is in silence. 

You sit in the back seat, twiddling your thumbs. Your Mom drives, your Dad stewing in silence. 

When you arrive at the house, it isn’t much better. 

“I’ll make tea,” Says your Mom, hurrying off to the kitchen as you and your Dad settle down on the sofa. His lip twitches, like he has something he wants to say, but you get in first. 

“You owe Tara an apology,” You say, eyes narrowed, “She has a bruise on her arm the size of Iowa-” 

“She’s lucky that’s all she got,” Says your Dad. 

You stare at him for a moment. Then stand. 

“I’m not talking to you if you’re going to be like this,” You say, voice hot. 

Your Dad hesitates. Then puts his arm out to draw you back down. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, and although it’s through gritted teeth, he does sound like he means it, “I shouldn’t have grabbed her. I’ll apologize to her.” 

You blink. 

“Thank you.” 

Your Mom reemerges, cups of hot tea in hand. 

“Darling,” She says, “Please. Sit down.” 

You settle back into your seat, phone buzzing in your hand. It’s Tara. 

In Sheriff’s office with Sam, waiting for her to come back, it reads. 

Then. It buzzes again. 

You ok baby? 

Fine, you message back, Dad said he’s sorry for grabbing u. 

I’ll believe it when I hear it, Tara sends back. 

Your Mom clears her throat. 

“YN,” She says, “Can you put the phone down please? We need to talk.” 

And talk you do. 

Your Dad stays quiet while your Mom outlines her concerns. The plan, the manslaughter. Tara’s arrest. Her concerns are valid. 

Yes, Tara had been arrested for murder. Murders that she had committed. 

Yes, you’d set up a foolhardy plan with Tara’s friends to capture Ghostface. 

And yes, you’d gone into that school knowing you were about to take someone’s life. And done exactly that. 

You watch as your Mother tries to understand. And know there’s nothing you can say to quell her fears. 

“I think we need to get you into therapy.” Says your Mom, chewing her lip, “We should have done it earlier. I’m sorry we didn’t do it earlier.” 

You blink. 

“I don’t want to talk to a shrink,” You argue. 

You don’t want to talk to anyone about this. Talking led to answers, answers that you very much need to keep buried. For your sake, just as much as Tara’s. 

“Please, honey,” Begs your Mom, “You haven’t been coping, that much is obvious.”

“I’m fine,” You say, leaning forward, “As fine as I can be. I know you’re upset about the plan, but Mom- it was the only way. I mean, look what he was doing to us. Dad carries around a shotgun like it’s his wallet, Tara was going out of her mind, and poor Sam is one more attack away from a nervous breakdown-” 

“Exactly why you should talk to someone,” Says your Dad, quietly, “This isn’t normal, YN. Normal eighteen year olds are worried about which colleges they’re going to get into. Not about if they’re going to be attacked in their homes in the middle of the night.” 

He pauses. 

“And it wouldn’t hurt Tara to go, either.” 

Annoyance flares up in your chest. 

“Can you stop going after Tara?” You say, suddenly on edge, “She’s done nothing to you, Dad. All she’s done is protect me, and you’re acting like she’s been abusing me or something-” 

“There’s something not right about her,” Your Dad says. His brows furrow, like there’s something he just can’t quite work out, “YN, she treats you like you belong to her.” 

“I do belong to her,” You say immediately, and then regret it almost instantly. Your Dad’s face contorts in anger. Hurriedly, you walk it back, “I mean, she belongs to me too. I’m her girlfriend. And she’s mine.” 

“Honey.” Your Mom is looking at your Dad, a serious look in her eye. Like she’s trying to warn him off saying the wrong thing. 

You watch his fists ball. 

“Nobody belongs to anyone,” Your Dad says, “You’re not a piece of property. See, this is exactly what I mean. Any shrink worth his weight will tell you the same.” 

“I’m not talking to a shrink,” You say, voice raising, “You can’t make me.” 

Your Dad stands. His voice is like thunder. 

“You’re my child and you’ll do what I say,” He says, familiar vein popping out of his forehead.  

You sink back into your seat, crossing your arms, “I thought I didn’t belong to anyone?” You say, voice flat. 

Your Dad takes a deep breath. The way he usually does before he’s about to launch into a tirade. 

His hand raises, and he points a finger at you. 

And then his face freezes. 

It’s unmistakable. A loud shattering, like a glass has been dropped. Your Mom’s face falls. You blink, head turning to see where it had come from. 

“What was that?” Your Dad says, turning from you, suddenly on guard. 

It had sounded from the kitchen. Butterflies soar within your stomach, but not the good kind. The kind that feel like you’re being eaten from the inside out. 

The back of your neck prickles. And then your heart almost leaps out of your chest as you feel your phone buzzing in your hands. 

It’s Tara. Her pretty smile flashes across the screen. You gulp, silencing your phone with a click of your button. 

“The gun,” Hisses your Mom, “Get the gun.” 

Your Dad fumbles around behind the sofa. He pulls out his shotgun, posies it against his chest. 

“Who’s there?” He calls out, but his voice shakes, “I’m armed. I have a weapon.”

Silence. 

Your Mom grabs you by the arm, pulls you back against the wall. 

“Stay here,” Your Dad says, cocking the shotgun. 

“Dad, don’t-” You hiss, as you grab your phone. It’s buzzing again, Tara’s name flashing across the screen, “I’m going to call the police.” 

But he doesn’t listen. 

He draws closer to the kitchen, step by step. Your Mom’s eyes are wide, fearful, as she clings onto your arm for dear life. 

You press your phone to your ear, answer Tara’s call. 

“Babe-” She says, voice urgent, “Stay where you are, I know who Ghostface is.” 

But you barely hear her. Your heartbeat is thundering in your ears, fire flooding through your veins. 

“He’s in the house,” You say, breath caught in the back of your throat, “Tara, he’s here-” 

The crunch of your Dad’s boots against the kitchen tile. You watch as he disappears out of sight. Tears spill wet down your cheeks. Your Mom’s grip on your hand is so hard you feel as if she might pull it clean off. 

“Baby, I’m coming,” Tara says. She’s out of breath, like she’s running, “Sam- drive.”

“Call the police, Tara, please,” You whisper, voice a beg, “Call the police right now.” 

“Stay on the line, babe,” Tara says. You hear the click of the car door, and Sam’s voice. Urgent. Desperate, “We’re coming right now. We figured it out - Ghostface is-” 

But you don’t hear what she says. 

Your Dad disappears into the kitchen for less than a second. Another loud crash sounds, then your Dad cries out. 

The shotgun blasts. 

Your Mom screams. 

Your ears ring as you drop your phone to the floor, the screen smashing instantly. 

“Dad?” You call out, hands shaking as you move your Mom behind you, “Dad, say something. Are you okay?” 

But he doesn’t say a thing. 

Blood pounds through your body. Your mother starts to cry. Adrenaline floods through you. 

And suddenly you know exactly what you need to do. 

“Run.” You tell your Mom. 

Your legs feel like jelly as you sprint through the living room, your Mom close behind. You make it to the foyer, looking behind you wildly in an attempt to see if anyone’s behind you. You press your hand against the handle and attempt to draw it open. 

But it stays firm, locked. 

“It’s the alarm system,” Says your Mother, face thick with tears, “The house is on lockdown, Daddy set it up to go through our phones.” 

“So get your phone out.” You hiss. 

She fumbles around in her pockets and draws out her phone. You watch the hallway. It’s quiet. Eerie. No sign of your Dad, and no sign of anyone else. You eye the living room window, thinking. 

“It won’t unlock,” Your mother says, voice frantic. 

You seize the phone from her hands, fiddle around in the app. UNLOCK is near the center, a bright green button. You press it once. Then twice, but nothing happens. 

As if it’s been overridden. 

“Window,” You mumble, “Mom, get to the window. I’ll break it.” 

It happens in a flash. 

One moment you’re dropping her phone to the floor, in an effort to grab her hand and run. 

And the next, you see him. 

Black cloak. Mask pulled over his face. 

Your Dad’s shotgun in his hands. Blood coated over his gloves, gleaming in the daylight. 

“Run!” You scream out. 

Your Mother sprints. Ghostface raises the weapon, lets out a single shot that rings out heavy into the air. It misses, flies off into the wall behind you. 

“Don’t move.” Says Ghostface, voice contorted, “Move and you die.” 

But you don’t listen. The gun isn’t reloaded - you don’t know much about weapons, but you’ve seen your Dad shoot it before. You tear off, ignoring his angry cry out as you follow your Mom into the living room. 

Your Mom grabs a nearby lamp, flings it wildly at the window. It shatters, almost as loudly as the shotgun. Pieces of broken glass litter the carpet, but it's the least of your worries. 

You leap over the couch, take your Mother’s hand and lead her to the window. 

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you see him again. 

He’s loading pellets into the shotgun, and then, with a quiet click, he raises it once more. 

But he doesn’t point it at you. 

“Mom!” You scream. 

Another blast sounds out. You grip either side of your head, ears ringing painfully at the sound. Your mother screams, and then falls to the floor. 

Blood spills thick and fast onto the carpet. 

You drop down, watch in horror as you catch sight of the wound. It’s gory, bloody, half of her leg blasted clean off. She wails, eyes wide in agony, clutching at her leg as if it will fall off if she lets go. 

“Mom.” You sob. You grip her shoulders, in a feeble attempt to drag her to the window. 

You should run. You should leave her and run. 

But you can’t. 

She’s your Mother. 

And it’s just the distraction Ghostface needs. 

Your Mom looks up at you, mouth open in horror as sees him, looming behind you.  

“YN!” She cries out. 

But you don’t turn in time. 

You feel the hard press as the back of the shotgun slams against your head. 

And then everything turns black. 

-

You feel like you’re floating. 

Over the earth, mind dizzy, like you’ve been launched into space without an oxygen mask. 

There are stars behind your eyes. The back of your head aches, unpleasantly. You can feel something wet against the back of your neck, trickling down underneath your shirt. You groan, move your hand to wipe it away. 

And then you realize your hands are bound behind your back. 

Panic surges through you as you remember your last moments of consciousness. 

Your Dad, walking into the kitchen with a shotgun. The bang of the bullet. 

Your Mom, screaming, writhing in pain on the living room floor, shotgun pellet in her leg. 

Ghostface. 

You open your eyes, chest heaving. 

Everything’s fuzzy, blurred. It hurts to look. The room is dark, save for a single ceiling lamp, flickering as if it’s down to its last few minutes of light. You squint, trying to make out your surroundings. 

You’re in a basement, maybe. It’s dirty, dusty. Unused. Somewhere completely unfamiliar. 

A wave of nausea floods through you. 

Your head pounds. The wetness seeping down onto the back of your neck is blood, you realize all at once. 

Your phone is broken, gone. 

And Ghostface stands in front of you, shimmering dagger in his hands. 

You tug at your restraints, hysteria surging through you. 

Ghostface has taken you somewhere. To his house, maybe. To somewhere the police, and Tara won’t be able to find you. There’s no sign of your mother, or your father. 

It’s quiet. 

The only sounds are the desperate fidgeting of your hands and the heavy noise of his breathing. 

But it’s hopeless. 

Your hands are bound too tight. You have no weapon, and you feel light. Dizzy. Like even if you managed to stand you’d pass out instantly. 

It’s the end, you realize all at once. 

He has you. And this is how you’re going to die. 

You swallow, squint a little harder, ignoring the waves of sickness that flood through you. 

And suddenly you only want to know one thing. 

“Who are you?” You mumble, “Please. Tell me what you want.”  

“Who am I?” Ghostface says. He tilts his head, and you can hear the sneer in his voice. He drops his dagger, then curls his fingers around the edge of the mask. 

It pulls off in one clean swipe. 

Gone is the mystery. The unfamiliarity. 

Your heart drops. 

You’ve seen this face before. Not once or twice. 

You’ve seen this face so many times in the last twenty-four hours. You remember never wanting to see it again. 

But she’s here. 

She has you here. 

Blood streaming down your neck, hands bound so tight your fingertips are starting to lose feeling. 

She stands a little taller, drops her robes and tosses the mask to the floor. 

Blonde hair, wide blue eyes. 

The spitting image of him. 

Sheriff’s badge pressed to her chest. 

And suddenly it all falls into place. 

She leans in, until she’s so close you can see the untamed lunacy in her eyes. She looks wild, deranged as she tilts the blade against your cheek. 

There’s nothing in her eyes but pure, unadulterated hatred. 

And then her lips curls as she spits out:  “I’m the mother of the boy you murdered.”

[rozeliyawashereyall]

FINALLY POSTING THIS.

Some Zef and Sera +a secret third thing, again.

The fish boys belong to @obsidian-lantern !

@greaysharkboi requested, and I shall provide.

Do you dare to click?

Headcanons, again.

Also for you @jaetists

The listener will be referred to as 'clemmy'

I. Slaps a pride flag on both of them

The tap water turned the frogs gay and in turn the frogs turned the fish gay.

Them going to a pride parade would be very fun.

II. I think both of them would find surface flowers very interesting, especially since there's not a lot underwater. Zef once tried to keep a rose alive underwater and was very sad when it pretty much got ripped apart.

III. Sera secretly likes his hair being braided or played with, especially in human form—and vice versa! He likes showing affection through actions rather than words, and hair playing is one of it.

Speaking of hair, both of their hair are most likely very messy and tangled. Sera a little less than Zef.

IV. Zef and Clemmy occasionally ramble and rant about the differences between land and sea. Sera prefers to listen rather than join in.

V. They both have no idea what a TV is—Sera has a bit more of a clue but still very confused. He likes watching crime documentaries, Zef tried to watch it with him but got PTSD flashbacks/hj

Zef likes watching the romcoms instead

While they'd both be mildly terrified of analog horrors, they find a slight comfort in liminal space images.

VI. The three of them have gone ice skating, both fish guys almost broke their legs.

Kind of on the same topic, but Sera would be a good slow dancer, probably has danced with Zef before

VII. Clemmy brought Zef and Sera to a planetarium, and they were in awe. Zef refused to leave and Sera was too speechless to process that they even have to leave. Clemmy had to call Eric for help to drag them out.

Star/planet gazing has since become their favourite hang out date

VIII. Zef is the kind of guy who would try to impress his crush, fail miserably, and still get them

He fr got that loser rizz

IX. they did not know what glitter was before Eric accidentally glitter bombed them. All three of them learned the hard way that glitter does not come off easily, especially when it gets in your hair.

X. These two would definitely use Clemmy as a heater. Look, the ocean is freezing, and they're probably just as cold to the touch. A Clemmy with a lot of warmth will be the fish boys heater

XI. They both don't like merfolk themed movies, documentaries, etc. Yes this includes the little mermaid

XII. doubling on what Aspen said here. Both Zef and Sera glow as a form of blushing. Sera would probably play it off as intentional, Zef too embarrassed to come up with a proper excuse

XIII. they'd both be very, very confused by AI.

XIV. God those two would not last with gen z or gen alpha— they are also very confused by memes.

"look at all those chickens!..

"Clemmy, those are seagulls..."

XV. Chat...hear me out...Sera and Zef get drunk for the first time...

Zef would either be a sad or happy drunk, with Sera being a silent drunk. Clemmy would have to drag them out and most likely get crushed in the process.

XVI. Them going to a carnival would be hilarious, especially on the rollercoasters—Zef would try to act tough but in the end throws up. And oof, they would be mindfucked by the hall of mirrors.

XVII. Zef would definitely love indie video games. He has watched the entire 8 hour lore video and all of matpat's vids <- Sera thinks this matpat guy is going insane but let's Zef watch him anyway.

XVIII. Sera is the type of person to not want a cat at first, but does let's the cat does anything it wants after they get it.

XIX. Zef would definitely like scrapbooking.

Yay for help from @willowve01 @lightdragon789 @aspenm00n and @tiefling-chaos for the headcanons!

[sageteapost]

hello!

May I request that you do a cloud strife x reader where the reader uses duel blades? These blades actually have short range and long range attacks and ( with enough force) can propel the reader forward? I would like them to meet in the scene where Jessie is seeing Biggs and wedge on bikes, but they see an extra bike and that’s the readers? The whole scene plays out and the reader is super badass, pulling enemy’s back with their duel blades and throwing them into a wall. Then after, they talk a bit and find out that they are a SOLDIER aswell..? IDK if this could be written so I’m sorry I’m advance if it can’t so feel free to tell me if you can’t!

| Cloud Strife & A Dual Blade User Reader |

[ Cloud Strife x GN! Reader ]

TW & CW + Tags: Violence (not super detailed). Mentions of firearms and blades. Reader is a SOLDIER as well. [No relationship mentioned. GN! Reader.]

Summary: A small fic of Cloud Strife meeting the reader who uses duel blades and eventually finds out that they are also a SOLDIER as well.

[(A/N): Hey there anon! My apologies for the late reply to your request. Not gonna lie, the reader gives off a bit of Ignis Scientia from Final Fantasy XV! I was in a mood to write a small fic for this one. I'm not sure if you wanted a fic request, if not let me know! As always, enjoy!]

"Looks like we got more company!" cries Jessie, Shinra infantrymen catching up close behind the others. The smell of rubber creating friction on the road was strong, and the roar of the motorcycle echos throughout the tunnel. "Quit moving around, or you'll fall off the bike," Cloud says while maintaining full attention on the lit road ahead of him.

"Hey Cloud! Take care of them, will ya?!" Biggs yells as Wedge holds onto Biggs for dear life. "We cannot let them ruin the mission!" Cloud hums in acknowledgement, making a cue for Jessie to take over driving the bike. She responds swiftly, and Cloud makes a leap onto onto one of the infantry's bikes and quickly taking him out.

"You!! Avalanche scum!" shouts an infantrymen, moving his bike closer towards Cloud so he can strike.

"Not so fast!"

A sharp object swiftly flys into the back of the man, earning a shout of pain from him and losing control of his bike.

Cloud makes a face of confusion for a moment, but before he could do anything he hears a motorbike pull up from behind, breaking him from his thoughts. "You guys abandoned me back at the meeting place! I was looking for y'all everywhere!"

Cloud turns to his left, and he sees you. As you're fighting one last infantrymen with your blades, your (H/C) hair lights up from the bright overhead lights in the tunnel, your mako green eyes are as sharp as a hawk, and he notices the daggers on your side as you slam the infantrymen hard into the wall.

The biggest thing he notices instantly however, is your outfit. A SOLDIER uniform, actually.

"Sorry (Y/N)! I thought you were right behind us the whole time," Jessie says with a sheepish laugh. "Glad you caught up with us! You would have missed out on our SOLDIER boy there! He's badass, don't you think?"

You turn your head slightly towards Cloud, making eye contact with his mako green eyes. Cracking a small smile, you reply, "Oh no, I saw. He's pretty good!"

Cloud quickly shifts his eyes back to the road. "C'mon. We're almost at the end of the tunnel."

"Right. Let's get a move on!" Jessie shouts out with pure energy.

...

Mission success! Now it was time to get the hell out of there and go home. Before you could drive off on your bike, Cloud stops you.

"Nice job back there."

You look at him in confusion, before replying with a smile. "Thanks, just what I do. I could say the same thing about you too." Cloud hums quietly, before asking, "...You're a SOLDIER, aren't you?"

Your smile drops just a tad bit and your eyes drift away from his. "That obvious, huh?"

"It's the uniform. And the trademark mako eyes."

"Right. Figured you should have known, since you are one too."

"Ex-SOLDIER. I'm just a mercenary now. I quit a long time ago."

You chuckle lightly, the cool night breeze of Midgar brushes away a strand of your hair. You look up towards a mako reactor, its bright light beaming up into the night sky. "It's getting late. We should go home," you say.

"Right," Cloud adds moving away from your bike and hopping on to his own and starting the engine.

"Wait," hearing your voice and looks up. "I never got your name. Who knows? We might meet again someday."

Cloud stays quiet for a moment. Only the sound of the humming engine fills the brief silence between the two of you. And with that, he finally replies.

"...Cloud. Cloud Strife."

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XV. “mutually-assured destruction”

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce elicits your help in a desperate bid to validate his sanity, but the both of you reach a permanent standstill.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, arguing, anger, fear, hopelessness

words: 2.6k

a/n: I love when they bicker lmfaooooo, here’s a lil scene for the enemies to lovers crowd 😌

You tried to be subtle with your double-take. His hair was so much darker when it was soaked from rain, and he was nearly unrecognizable in such oversized, bulky clothing. Your eyes wandered to a notebook clutched tightly in his hand. Is it slippery? His knuckles are white.

He pulled you quickly toward him and the gentle spray of what would have been an outfit-ruining tsunami grazed your ankles. As quickly as the car passed he let go and began walking across the street. "Follow me." Too curious for your own good, you followed. Only when you reached three blocks from the hotel did you stop and question the affair. He gave a gruff response to asking where you were headed. "It's only a few more blocks." He continued walking until he realized your footsteps weren't following, and hesitated to peek over his shoulder. Of course you wouldn't follow him. Of course you had to make this difficult. He very nearly pressed on without you out of spite.

He was unrecognizable to you from behind. His wet hair splayed in a haphazard frame around his face, this wasn't what a billionaire looked like. A glimmer of curiosity captured you. Why would a billionaire want to dress himself down like this? It was decidedly less glamorous when he was outside of the suit, and less pathetic than when he wore baggy black clothes to walk around his empty home. You remembered you were in seclusion in downtown Gotham with a rich man, a man so rich he could ruin you without a second thought; and even though you knew his secret, you didn’t know him. He could do anything to me and the world would let him. The possibility alone petrified you and you resigned to stay back.

He picked up on that resolution (though he thought it wasn't self-preservation but resolution to his dissolution) and turned around, glowering at you. He noted that your feet were particularly dug into the gravel, your arms stiff to your sides. The chill of the evening air outside of your lips was the only evidence you weren't a statue. "It's just a few more blocks."

"I heard you." You crossed your arms to protect your chest and you saw his eyes track the movement. Heat rose in your chest. So fucking perceptive. It's like I'm prey.

"Are you coming?"

"No. My parents are expecting me back." He was just a random guy. Your mother was sick, your dad was probably unable to figure out how to work the remote and move from HDMI 1 to HDMI 2. You grit your teeth and he, of course, noted the subtle movement in your jaw.

What are you, twelve? He bit down on his tongue with a sliver of shame. You were just a random woman. Someone who had parents to get back to, parents that were waiting on you, parents who would be concerned if you were back too late, parents to spend time with, parents to see you, to know you...

A story was flashing across his eyes, even in the dark, but you weren't staying to figure it out. "I'm sure Alfred is waiting on you." You spun on your heel but didn't make it two steps before he retorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should spend time with him instead of stalking girls on street corners."

He didn't need you. You didn't know what you were talking about. "Don't act like you know anything about him." He wasn't letting you get out of earshot before defending himself. You don't know a thing about Alfred. A possessiveness snuck into his tone.

You spun around, your hands lazily following until they slapped against your thighs. "I got a good sense of your hospitality while I was there, you're ridiculously antisocial." You emphasized your eyeroll.

He huffed so firmly clouds of warm air obscured his face, making him for a moment a total shadow. "My apologies for not wanting a stranger loitering in my house that just threatened to blackmail me!" His voice had risen, but it wasn't quite enough for you to call him out yet.

You put your hands up in the air, dressing your words in as much syrupy sarcasm as they could hold. "God forbid someone stay in the giant empty mansion of the person hoarding all the city's resources for three days."

He turned around swiftly, menacingly. "I'm doing more for this city than anyone else."

You didn't bother to temper your scoff. It echoed off the wet brick. "Your ego is fucking insane."

He barked back. "What has anyone else done?"

You thought of your father who had so many aches and pains he couldn't count from his endless career work. The farm workers working in nearly inhumane conditions for meager paychecks, paychecks the Wayne family spent in a day even with just one man and a butler, the people putting food on Gotham's table. You thought of all the houseless people you'd walked past on your way here and couldn't help but laugh, but it was filled with so much tension it was painful. "You picked up a voluntary night shift, congrats, what cookie do you want?"

His chest constricted like his ribs had been welded together. "This is ridiculous. I don't know why I thought you'd be any help." He moved to turn but you ensnared him with another biting accusation.

"You are sitting on a mountain of wealth while people rot in the streets."

He rolled his eyes and committed to the full turn of his back to yours. "I'm not talking about this."

You scoffed again, your chest constricting with the beginning of adrenaline. "I made a point that you don't know how to respond to because you can't. And you're just leaving! Some fucking savior!"

God, who did you think you were? He spat the words out on the pavement with his back turned, eyes narrowed to slits. "You came here just to shit on my city and—"

"It is not your city. You are just a rich kid whose parents happened to live here. And you've done nothing besides saving counterfeit checks and people who have no other choice—"

"Oh, not this again." His smugness brought you right back to running to the city hall bathroom. He didn't know how easily he could massacre someone with his tongue. "Some of the people you take so much pride in scaring the shit out of are already scared. I guarantee if you just gave everyone food, shelter,"

"Money doesn't save everything." You. Didn't. Get. It.

"How can you possibly know even a fraction of the value of a single fucking dollar when you have billions in your bank acc—"

"I'm already allocating." He increased the distance between you two.

You snapped at him, seething at his audacity. "Don't you dare interrupt me."

"Money gets you shot dead on the streets." He continued without a care in the world.

"Don't fucking interrupt me."

He turned his head to peek a touch over his shoulder. Your sharpness has rustled him. He wanted to speak up again but your chest was heaving and splotchy red. Your hands were in trembling fists at your side. He averted his gaze and looked over at the wall while you both stood in silence. His heart was racing, but it wasn't showing—blood making a racket in his ears and practically drowning out all sound. He waited, and waited, and waited more, the adrenaline steadying him and giving him clarity. No one had ever been this mad at him outside of the suit... it was weird. It felt like he should be in armor, ready to dodge a punch and land one square in the jaw. He hated the way his eyes lingered on your jaw, nose, and the bottom of your ribcage. An enchantingly strong sensation of shame erupted from it. More combatant than human.

You noted his features softening, and with it yours slowed to simmer. It was impossible not to notice how sad he looked, and that pissed you off. Why do I give a shit what he's feeling? It was like there was a small box sitting in the corner of your chest, a slim panel hidden in the back of your mind. It contained something you couldn't reach. Every time you were around him it began to glow, but it was too hot. It burned your eyes if you ever tried to look right at it. Frustration had created a mist in your mind to try and distract you, convince you he was nothing of importance; Bruce Wayne could go fuck himself. Another part leapt out and tried to tell you, right then, your empathy was pure socialization. It's a woman's job to soothe, after all. Be easy, after all. The world catered to men, and here was the stereotype and living idol to the alpha male archetype. It repulsed you. Your eyes flit down to his journal as it slipped ever so slightly on the pads of his fingers. You squinted. Curiosity. That's what's coming up. You recalled Dr. Vry on the first day of your first journalism class. She'd opened the class with a speech.

You are all here because you were curious. Curious about this class, curious about writing, and curious about interviewing. I want you to hone in on that feeling; if you have a curiosity about something, anything, anyone, this unintelligible itch to figure it out, it's the sign of a story. A truth needs to be witnessed that you might be the only one capable of seeing. A truth you need to share with the world.

His eyes were the story; it elicited such a feeling of curiosity, his eyes. They were angry, and dark, and sad, and in a position unique to one in 8 billion. You were curious. You were curious about Bruce Wayne, and you hated him. You hated his clothes, his voice, his face, his gait, his position, his quiet arrogance. It clashed so hard with the embers of sympathy for his emotional darkness you felt you could burst. Still, you weren't about to follow him into the black abyss. "Why do you need to talk to me?"

Bruce's reaction didn't quite help you feel safe; he bristled at the question. There was something he wasn't telling you, that was obvious enough, but he refused to give any of it away. "I can't talk about it right here."

"I don't trust you."

He sighed. It made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. He wouldn't follow just anyone out into the corners of Gotham at night either. He shrugged over at you, opening his arms to flap them back down. "Want to check for weapons again?"

Again. You'd been genuinely petrified back in his basement; up until Alfred had arrived, you were certain you would have been meat to string along the ceiling for the bats to feed off of. It still didn't feel quite right, and you didn't feel quite safe, but you felt safer. Safe enough to not be agreeable, safe enough to not run away the second you saw him, but not safe enough to revoke suspicion. The thing on top of your mind now, taking up so much space it hurt, was hypervigilance. Every movement of his hand, his eyes, even the rhythm of his breathing was being tracked and gauged. You didn't know why this question came up, but it fell out of your mouth when it opened. "Do you really trust I won't tell anyone?"

Damn. He didn't, in truth. He'd said so back at the airport because it hadn't fully sunk in that someone knew. Now that he'd had to begin constructing this new persona, now that he had realized how someone could see past it, he was terrified. Almost imperceptibly he shook his head. "No."

It made you a bit afraid hearing that, not that him saying yes would've made you believe him. How could he trust you? If the roles were reversed, you wouldn't. "I don't trust that you won't hurt me."

"How can I convince you?"

Before you could answer your phone buzzed. It was your dad.

"Hey hun, everything good down there?" He sounded like he was munching on the hideously expensive bag of chips that had been provided by hospitality. You nodded before realizing he couldn't see you and your cheeks burned with heat at Bruce having seen it. "Yeah, I just got caught up."

"Caught up? Is that code for something? Do you need me to come down there?"

You glanced over at Bruce who was staring down at his shoes. He slowly looked up at you and lingered in eye contact briefly before looking down to kick at a pebble. Bruce Wayne kicking pebbles on the sidewalk. Get the paparazzi over here. "It's fine, dad. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He didn't miss a beat before a small shuffling and you heard him whisper. "She must have met up with that Wayne guy. Probably doesn't want to tell me." He came back to the line and you thanked god your speaker was off. "No it's, I'll be back soon. Bye." You hung up even though you could tell he didn't quite buy it, which made you have to hurry your exit even more. You plunged your phone in your pocket, avoiding eye contact. You answered him. "You can't convince me."

You both stood there in total silence, not even a car driving in background noise. Finally an ambulance mauled past and he let out a deep sigh. "How do we level the playing field?"

You shrugged, your mouth drying up. You rolled your eyes and sighed out some tension. "Mutually assured destruction, I guess." You didn't particularly like that, the threat of violence from him ever-present in your mind. He didn't like that either, in fact, he felt like he could vomit the second you said that. "I won't hurt you."

"I don't believe it."

"We're at a standstill, then." He straightened his back. "You could say we're even." God, it made him ill that he saw no route to convince you. Another reminder of his status, another reminder of how inhuman he was. You probably looked at him like his veins were thick with gold. He felt the need to give you another reminder, not wanting to hide behind the cloak of assumed violence for another second. "Even if you wrote that, I wouldn't hurt you."

Playing the nice guy, huh? You crossed your arms and shook your head vigorously, the cold chill starting to get to you. You needed to get home and couldn't have this conversation much longer. "You can't convince me, you just can't."

You still felt a twist in your stomach at how much privilege he didn't even realize he held, so much wasted opportunity and ignorance, but you nodded. How could you explain to someone that was born into it how much power he held? Was he actually ignorant of it, or did he just want people to think he was so they would get comfortable and let their guard down for him to strike? It still felt uneven, massively so, but you reassured yourself that you would be out of his reach soon enough. Your parents were waiting, your mom was sick, and you'd be gone in the morning for good. You spun around on your heel without a look back and sped on back to the hotel. Bruce glanced down at the journal that was nearly melted into a puddle in his hand and groaned. Whatever. Mutually-assured destruction.

[oraclekleo]

Lee Know (Stray Kids) - Relationship Role Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All celebrity readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Feedback: Feedback is very important for content creators and for me it’s even more important. Please, let me know whether the tarot readings resonate. If there’s anything you dislike or find off about my readings (like wording, topics, focus), just tell me. I don’t want you to write 1000-word feedback, very simple comments will do for me to stay motivated. I don’t know why I have to keep repeating this but this is something I do for you, guys, and when I don’t feel motivated to do tarot readings, I have many other things to do. The more motivation I get, the more readings you will get to read. The logic is very simple but it’s two sided.

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck(s): E. A. Poe Tarot

Spread: Relationship Role

Questions:

Friend

Boyfriend

Lover

Husband

One-Night-Stand

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Lee Min Ho

Stage Name: Lee Know

Group: Stray Kids

DOB: 25.10.1998

Blood Type: O

MBTI: ISFP

Sun Sign: Scorpio

Chinese Sign: Earth Tiger

Life Path Number: 8

Masterpost: Stray Kids

Lee Know (Stray Kids) - Relationship Role

Full Name: Lee Min HoStage Name: Lee KnowGroup: Stray KidsDOB: 25.10.1998Blood Type: OMBTI: ISFPSun Sign: ScorpioChinese Sign: Earth TigerLife Path Number: 8

Spread / Question: Relationship Role Deck(s): E. A. Poe Tarot

Friend - King of Pentacles, 5 of Wands

When it comes to friendships, Lee Know is sure to be the very caring type, the friend who will treat others with little gifts and acts of service. He’s not exactly the shoulder to cry on type, but when you are sad, he’s likely to just go and buy you a bucket of ice cream as a treat. He is a kind friend but not the one to be disrespected or intentionally annoyed or tested. When he feels like his friendship isn’t valued the way he wants, he’s very likely to let his friends know in a passionate way. Lee Know is surely a fun friend, while he does like to be respected, he also can bicker and playfully fight with his mates. He doesn’t take himself overly seriously and can even make jokes about himself or go as far as doing some self-burns.

Girlfriend / Boyfriend - Page of Wands, XV The Devil

As a boyfriend, Lee Know might be a handful… a pain in the ass even. Lee Know is not exactly the super cute romantic boyfriend. He is playful and fun, yes, but his dirty mind takes him to gutter way too often. He might become rather excited and handsy right from the start of the relationship which is not for everyone. If his partner is a shy type who likes to take things slow, Lee Know will probably get bored very quickly and run away from the relationship. On the other hand, more… let’s say a strong-willed person who can tease and banter with him, match his wits when it comes to double meaning naughty remarks while at the same time keeping him on a leash and making him respect their boundaries… That’s something Lee Know might feel very excited about. He’s not a full dom type, despite his attempts to give that impression. The cards suggest he might actually like to be kept under gentle and fun control.

Lover - 0 The Fool, King of Swords

Lee Know as a lover becomes a little more dominant as he’s more sure about himself in this case. He might like to be in charge when it comes to sex, on the other hand, the Fool card suggests him being very open towards experimentation and towards pleasing his lover in any way they ask him to. Lee Know is likely to have a very open mind when it comes to sex, he’s likely to be a diligent student of any erotic art, technique, position, toy… you name it. Lee Know might become a real tease as he probably likes to keep a very cool and even aloof impression on the outside but becomes a daring explorer whenever the situation allows it. Expect him being a relentless tease in public where he for example keeps a perfect poker face while his hands grope his lover under the table, driving them towards the edge and crazy while the rest of the company is none the wiser about what’s going on.

Wife / Husband / Spouse - X The Wheel of Fortune, I The Magician

If Lee Know ever gets married, and it’s a big IF as the Wheel suggests that this is not at all a certain thing, he’s likely to keep his eye on everything that’s gonna go on in the marriage. He’s not likely to be overly controllable, though. The Magician is a card of a smart but also practical person. If Lee Know’s spouse is really good with finances, Lee Know is likely to leave the family budget and all money related issues in their capable hands, trusting their abilities. He’s likely to make sure that everyone in the family knows what their role and job is, if he’s got children, those are likely to become involved in house chores soon in their life, simply to learn how to do them and that it’s important for the whole family to share their duties.

One-Night-Stand - 10 of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles

When it comes to one night stands, Lee Know might find those appealing. He’s a little daredevil, after all. He might feel like those are achievements, testimonies to his irresistible charms. It really inflates his ego when he knows he’s able to be so sexy and charming that the person he just met is willing to let him go all the way. Lee Know is not likely to regret his one night stands, on the contrary, he might be rather proud of them. They somewhat add to his self-worth as he feels confident about winning anyone he desires.

After a very long time, here is one of my idol readings. For a very mysterious reason, I haven't done Lee Know's Relationship Role reading before. It's really weird because my bestie is his devoted fan for years now, I can't believe she didn't make me do this reading ages ago. 😂

But here we are! Better late than never, right?

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[spencersties]

Distraction - S. R.

Gif is by @fightingdragonswithwho

A/N: Hi, here's the delayed one shot I promised a couple of days ago, hope you guys enjoy it. Also, writing in Spencer's is always so much more fun to me for some reason.

Content/Warnings: meet-cute ish?, sleep deprived spencer (what's new there), fluff

Word count: 839

Masterlist | Navigation

spencer hadn’t slept very well. he couldn’t explain why. it wasn’t the usual case of nightmares that endured after what he considered to be a failed case, or the too big an interest in a book that had him telling himself he’d only read one more chapter before being swept up in reading for hours. last night, his thoughts just seemed to…not shut off. it was as though they had found a mind of their own, messy and unpleasantly constant.

it usually wouldn’t have been that big of a problem, spencer was no stranger to being unable to get a good night’s rest, partially because of his own mind, and partially because of his job. however, this time, the thoughts hadn’t shut off after the sun rose and he made himself the first cup of coffee for the day. if anything, they had gotten stronger, louder. he was starting to think about whether his attention would be good enough to deal with the day and the surely nasty case ahead.

as he walked up to the overly familiar elevator doors of the FBI headquarters in virginia, he did his best to snap himself out of it. tried to focus on one thing at a time.

the elevator. the first elevator was built back in the 18th century, 1743 to be exact, for king louis XV of france, it was human powered and counter weighted and…

his thought trailed off as a reminder of the tasks he had been slacking off doing around his house popped into his brain instead. followed up by a list of books he had recently bought and not yet gotten around to reading. a recollection of the book he read last night. singular. because he was distracted.

just like he was right now.

shit.

if it kept on going like this, spencer wouldn’t be able to get through the day while being of any real use to the team.

what he needed was an all-consuming distraction. something to focus on when his mind started to inevitably wander throughout the day.

the doors to the elevator finally opened and spencer stepped in, huffing out a tired breath as he pressed the button for the 6th floor, followed by the one marked ‘CLOSE DOORS’. of course, the doors didn’t even budge.

he rubbed his eyes and pressed the button again. and again. and again. until eventually he was repeatedly pressing an elevator button with furrowed brows and an annoyed glint in his eyes. just as the doors finally began to close, he saw you.

you were rushing towards the elevator, a satchel bag that matched his slung over one shoulder.

“hold the doors please.” you called out as you neared him.

he blinked, confused at your presence for a moment, and reached out his hand, halting the doors’ slow movement and causing them to open back up.

you stumbled into the small metal box, slightly out of breath and looked at the keypad of elevator floor buttons before clicking on the number 6 even though it was already pressed.

then you looked at spencer. he noticed your eyes first, they seemed to sparkle to him for some reason. he rubbed at his own eyes, making sure his overworked and over exhausted wasn’t imagining things. before he had the chance to inspect you more thoroughly, you began to speak.

“nice bag.” you were looking at the satchel bag on his own shoulder, a small smile on your face.

instead of saying thank you or you too, like any normal person would, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“did you know that scottish monks used to use leather satchels to carry around handwritten bibles that they considered precious?” which was followed by “you’re new.” after a few moments of silence from the both of you. spencer had never wanted to face palm himself quite as badly as he did just then.

surprisingly to him, you let out a laugh.

“no, no I didn’t. and yes, yes I am.”

“I’m spencer. reid.”

He listened to you tell him your name and watched you extend your hand.

perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the sudden confusion he had felt at your existence but he shook your hand.

your hands were warm and soft and spencer didn’t even realise what he was doing until you looked down at his hand covering yours. he pulled his hand away quickly, mumbling something about germs and how he didn’t usually shake hands and he didn’t quite know what had gotten into him. you just gave him a smile in response.

soon enough the elevator doors opened at the sixth floor, spencer looked around for a couple seconds. he hadn’t even realised that the elevator had started moving.

“see you later spencer” you said and walked out, throwing him one more smile over your shoulder.

as he entered the space of the floor he worked on and watched you walk away, he had a realisation.

spencer had found his perfect distraction.

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[hookedsworks]

Edge(ING) Fitness - Chapter XV

Vessel and III go for a run.

wc 808

III's pov

ao3

masterpost

999

Answer NOW 

DUDE 

Three rapid texts from Vessel after III missed his call. His eyes went wide, and he immediately dialed Vessel. When the line connected, III demanded to know what was wrong. 

“You are never going to believe this,” 

“Where’s the fire, Ves?” 

“No, shut up, it’s my turn. II asked me out! He asked me on a DATE!” 

“That’s impossible. I haven’t even gotten Ivy’s number yet,” III teased. 

“Well, you better get a move on. I finally got a date before you!” 

“So, you really like this guy, huh?” III inquired. He knew that Vessel had been prone to saying yes to dates with people he didn’t like, because he had always been sort of lonely. “Like, for real, I mean,” 

“Have you seen him? He’s so cute. I know he’s like… a bit older than us. But he’s just. GAH! I want to pick him up and swing him around and kiss him so hard his head starts spinning. He kissed my forehead! He has the softest lips, III. I want this. I’m going to try and like. Actually kiss him when we do go on that date. What do people do for dates these days? He said coffee, but when he wrapped my ankle, he like, didn’t like coffee. He said he was a redbull guy,” 

“Vessel. Dude. How much coffee have you had? He said he wanted coffee, so go for coffee! He’s a grown ass man, he’ll figure it out. Now. Because I’ve listened to you ramble on about your crush. I need you to help me with my conquest of Ivy’s ass,” Vessel cackled. Vessel’s laugh was one of III’s favorite things. It was rare enough. 

“So. Uh. I kind of went through II’s insta, and sorta found Ivy’s. If… you want it. Or, or,” Vessel said once III started sputtering about not yet having Ivy’s instagram. “Or. I found out where his rugby practices are on Saturday mornings. If… you still run on Saturday mornings?” 

“One guy asks you out and suddenly you’re this confident and teasing?” 

“The cutest guy in the whole world. Well, aside from you, of course,” 

“Jeez. He’s flirty too,” III’s heart squeezed at the compliment. Vessel had never been so quick, so funny, so smart. Maybe II is really good for him. “But, obviously, obviously I still run on Saturday mornings. I do have a marathon in two months. Which, um. Are you still coming?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it, actually, and how dare you think otherwise?” ah. There’s my best friend. III breathed out in relief. “Do you think you’re going to come to kickboxing tonight?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it, actually, and how dare you think otherwise?” 

*** 

“Why do you do this shit so early?” Vessel grumbled. He kicked a rock on the sidewalk in front of III’s place. Saturday had come and they were going to run past the local field, where Ivy should be. III was bouncing on his heels. 

“It’s cooler,” III responded, then started stretching. “Ivy still hasn’t followed me back,” he mentioned. It had been bugging him since he had followed Ivy, even though he knew that was probably crazy. 

“He might not have notifications on or something,” Vessel replied. He started to follow III’s movements, stretching his legs. 

“Hm. So when’s your date with II?” Vessel froze and blinked at III. 

“We uh. I uh. I haven’t talked to him about it yet. I got nervous. He almost made me cry, and I’m worried that it’s just pity,” 

“You cry when the sun rises too pink. Don’t worry about it. If he’s actually an adult about it, he meant it when he asked you out,” 

“But what if it was just-”

“Vessel,” III cut him off. He heard Vessel’s teeth click shut. “II is an adult. You’re an adult. This isn’t high school. People don’t ask you out to prank you anymore. Text the man,” 

“Fine. After we stalk your boy,” they both took off. They each had one earbud in, and were listening to III’s running mix. Sidewalks gave way to gravel and dirt, and then they heard something up ahead. Faint yelling. 

“Let’s run this one more time!” III recognized that voice. It was pretty boy. But the voice he was using was loud, full of grit and authority. III wanted to ingrain it into his memory immediately. He wanted to hear Ivy use that exact voice right in his ear. 

“III, you okay?” Vessel whispered. He nodded. His mouth was dry. He jogged forward, popping out of the tree line and onto the edge of the field. “III, you don’t have to,” III wasn’t listening. He was thinking about Ivy and his pretty boy shorts. Ivy himself came into view, way closer than III had anticipated. Those shorts were as good as III had imagined. Tight, short, black with a logo printed. Practically crawling up his thighs.

“Hey, sorry man, this is a closed practice… Mustache?”

[myenemytolover]

i love you (but I cannot survive you) — a thiam playlist

i. All I Want | Kodaline

'Cause you brought out the best of me, a part of me I'd never seen. You took my soul and wiped it clean; our love was made for movie screens.

ii. The Killer Was a Coward | Dermot Kennedy

And when I think of you, I think of spirit defined, and I think of all the love that we shared in a very dark time.

iii. Demons | Imagine Dragons

Don't wanna let you down, but I am hell-bound. Though this is all for you, don't wanna hide the truth.

iv. Take on the World | You Me At Six

And nobody knows you the way that I know you; we'll fight, we'll crawl into the night. I won't let go; with you by my side, the calm, the storm, we'll face it all.

v. Eyes on Fire | Blue Foundation

And just in time, in the right place, steadily emerging with grace.

vi. I Found | Amber Run

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be, right in front of me.

vii. Litost | X Ambassadors

And how long must I stay? Will I lay by your side just to say that I'm yours and you'll never be mine?

viii. Another Love | Tom Odell

And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight, but my hands been broken, one too many times, so I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude.

ix. Fortnight | Taylor Swift; Post Malone

And I love you; it's ruining my life.

x. The Show | Niall Horan

Life is like a board game some of the time; mistakes and heartbreaks are no crime, but there's a lot creeping through under broken skies.

xi. Guilty as Sin | Taylor Swift

What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly.

xii. Us | James Bay

I still hear the howling, I still feel the rush; over the riots, above all the noise, and through all the worry, I still hear your voice.

xiii. Fade | Lewis Capaldi

That I'd end up so caught up in need of your demons that I'd be lost without you leading me astray. Guess I'm such a fucking fool for the way that you caught me.

xiv. Saturdays | Louis Tomlinson

My heart might be broken, but I won't be broken down.

xv. Fine Line | Harry Styles

You've got my devotion, but man, I can hate you sometimes.

xvi. The Great War | Taylor Swift

It turned into something bigger. Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed.

xvii. Holding On To Heartache | Louis Tomlinson

I called you twice, but then regretted it and changed my number.

xviii. Hoax | Taylor Swift

My only one, my kingdom come undone, my broken drum; you have beaten my heart. Don't want no other shade of blue but you; no other sadness in the world would do.

xix. I miss you, I'm sorry | Gracie Abrams

Nothing happened in the way I wanted; every corner of this house is haunted.

xx. my tears ricochet | Taylor Swift

And I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want, just not home. And you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones.

xxi. favorite crime | Olivia Rodrigo

I defended you to all my friends, and now, every time a siren sounds, I wonder if you're around 'cause you know that I'd do it all again.

xxii. Somebody to Die For | Hurts

And there's no hell that he can show me that's deeper than my pride 'cause I will never be forgotten. Forever, I'll fight.

xxiii. So High School | Taylor Swift

No one's ever had me, not like you...Truth, dare, spin bottles, you know how to ball; I know Aristotle.

xxiv. Complex | Katie Gregson-MacLeod

I need him like water; he thinks that I'm alright. I'm not feeling human; I think he's a good guy, but it's complex. It's a complex.

xxv. Ghost Of You | 5 Seconds of Summer

So I drown it out like I always do. Dancing through our house with the ghost of you, and I chase it down, with a shot of truth, that my feet don't dance like they did with you.

xxvi. Give Me Love | Ed Sheeran

Give me love like never before 'cause lately I've been craving more and it's been a while, but I still feel the same.

xxvii. illicit affairs | Taylor Swift

And you know damn well, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times.

xxviii. Holding On And Letting Go | Ross Copperman

It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't.

xxix. Atlantis | Seafret

Now all the birds have fled, the hurt just leaves me scared.

xxx. Hurricane | Fleurie

Though I am breaking down again, I am aching now to let you in.

xxxi. You and I | PVRIS

We can meet in the middle, bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight when all the stars align.

xxxii. Crazy in Love - Remix | Beyonce

I'm not myself. Lately, I'm foolish; I don't do this. I've been playing myself, baby I don't care.

xxxiii. this is me trying | Taylor Swift

And maybe I don't quite know what to say, but I'm here in your doorway.

xxxiv. Can't Catch Me Now | Olivia Rodrigo

You can't catch me now, I'm coming like a storm into your town.

xxxv. Perfect | Hedley

I'm not perfect, but I keep trying 'cause that's what I said I would do from the start.

xxxvi. Til My Heart Stops | Too Far Moon

I almost died the day I lost you; I'll keep breathing til my heart stops.

xxxvii. The Alchemy | Taylor Swift

There was no chance, trying to be the greatest in the league. Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me.

xxxviii. The Exit | Conan Gray

Feels like we had matching wounds, but mine's still black and bruised, and yours is perfectly fine now. Feels like we buried alive something that never died.

xxxix. Don't Forget About Me | CLOVES

Lost through time, and that's all I need: so much love, then one day buried. Hope you're safe, 'cause I Iay you leaves; is there more than we can see?

xl. Hurts Like Hell | Fleurie

I don't want them to know the way I loved you; I don't think they'd understand it, no. I don't think they would accept me, no. I loved, and I loved, and I lost you.

xli. Is There Somewhere | Halsey

'Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings, and you clutched my brain and eased my ailing.

xlii. Burn with You | Lea Michele

We're not healthy, barely breathing, but this pain keeps my heart beating.

xliii. Cringe | Matt Maeson

Lover, come hold me; could you forget? That I got a secret, digging a ditch.

xliv. Him & I | G-Eazy; Halsey

We got that love, the crazy kind. I am his, and he is mine, in the end, it's him and I.

xlv. An Evening I Will Not Forget / Furthest Thing | Dermot Kennedy

Days with nothing but laughing loud underneath my coat, when you tap my shoulder, hold my hand; nights with nothing but dark in there, you could be my armor then.

xlvi. Call It What You Want | Taylor Swift

You don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?

xlvii. I'll Never Love Again | Lady Gaga

And I want to pretend that it's not true, oh baby, that you're gone 'cause my world keeps turning, and turning, and turning, and I'm not moving on.

xlviii. This Town | Niall Horan

And I know that it's wrong that I can't move on, but there's something about you. If the whole world was watching, I'd still dance with you.

xlix. Without Fear | Dermot Kennedy

And now I really think you're heaven-sent 'cause you've been forcin' all these hollow hearts to feel again. And now I really think you're heaven-sent, but there's a beauty in being broken; I've been seein' it.

l. Waiting Room | Phoebe Bridgers

Know it's for the better.

li. Only Love Can Hurt Like This | Paloma Faith

Burning hot through my veins, love is torture; makes me more sure only love can hurt like this.

lii. Still Falling For You | Ellie Goulding

And just like that, all I breathe, all I feel, you are all for me, I'm in.

liii. Daylight | Taylor Swift

I once believed love would be burning red, but it's golden.

liv. Margaret | Lana Del Rey; Bleachers

'Cause when you know, you know.

lv. Lost Without You | Freya Ridings

You were the only safe haven that I've known; hits me at full speed, feel like I can't breathe and nobody knows this pain inside me.

lvi. I Fell In Love With The Devil | Avril Lavigne

Got me playin' with fire, baby, hand me the lighter. Tastes just like danger, chaotic anger.

lvii. Million Reasons | Lady Gaga

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away, but baby, I just need one good one to stay.

lviii. But Daddy I Love Him | Taylor Swift

No, I'm not coming to my senses; I know he's crazy, but he's the one I want.

lix. Ultraviolet | Freya Ridings

No, I can't hide it, and you're reading all of me.

lx. Sunday | Dermot Kennedy

You're one of few, boy, who can safely say they had somebody truly love them back.

lxi. golden hour | JVKE; Ruel

You know nothing compares to the shattering feeling I get, oh, when you're not right there.

lxii. Daylight | David Kushner

You and I drink the poison from the same vine. Oh, I love it, and I hate it at the same time.

lxiii. Half Hearted | We Three

The fighting is done, and nobody's won, so now I'm just laying here in pieces on the floor.

lxiv. Always Remember Us This Way | Lady Gaga

So when I'm all choked up, but I can't find the words every time we say goodbye, baby, it hurts.

lxv. Latch | Sam Smith

Now I've got you in my space; I won't let go of you. Got you shackled in my embrace, I'm latching on to you.

lxvi. Say Don't Go | Taylor Swift

'Cause you kiss me, and it stops time, and I'm yours, but you're not mine.

lxvii. Put A Little Love On Me | Niall Horan

When the lights come up and there's no shadows dancing, I look around as my heart is collapsing 'cause you're the only one I need.

lxviii. Ho Hey | The Lumineers

I belong with you; you belong with me; you're my sweetheart.

lxix. XO | John Mayer

Your heart is glowing, and I'm crashing into you.

lxx. Strange Love | Halsey

Everybody wants to know about how it felt to hear you scream; they know you walk like you're a God, they can't believe I made you weak.

lxxi. You Mean The World To Me | Freya Ridings

And it kills me that you might not know after all, 'cause I know I don't let you see, but you mean the world to me, and I know that I can be pretty mean, but you mean the world to me.

lxxii. Dark Paradise | Lana Del Rey

Love you forever can't be wrong; even though you're not here, you won't move on. That's how we played it.

lxxiii. Oceans | Seafret

I want you, and nothing comes close to the way I need you. I wish I could feel your skin and I want you from somewhere within.

lxxiv. The Archer | Taylor Swift

All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put me together again 'cause all of my enemies started out friends; help me hold onto you. I've been the archer; I've been the prey. Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

lxxv. MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT | Loveless

In the middle of the night, just call my name; I'm yours to tame.

lxxvi. Train Wreck | James Arthur

You can say what you like 'cause see, I would die for you. I'm down on my knees, and I need you to be my God, be my help, be a savior who can unbreak the broken.

lxxvii. Walls | Louis Tomlinson

For every question, why, you were my because.

lxxviii. Infinity | Jaymes Young

'Cause you're the reason I believe in fate, you're my paradise, and I'll do anything to be your love or be your sacrifice.

lxxix. Salvation | Gabrielle Aplin

Just a trick of light to bring me back again, those wild eyes, a psychedelic silhouette. I never meant to fall for you, but I was buried underneath, and all that I could see was white.

lxxx. Sleep On The Floor | The Lumineers

Take all your savings out 'cause if we don't leave this town, we might never make it out. I was not born to drown, baby; come on.

lxxxi. Castle on the Hill | Ed Sheeran

I still remember these old country lanes when we did not know the answers.

lxxxii. The Other Side | Ruelle

I don't want to know what it's like to live without you; don't want to know the other side of a world without you.

lxxxiii. Angel With A Shotgun | The Cab

They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for. Well, baby, you are all that I adore; if love is what you need, a solider, I will be.

lxxxiv. Black Friday | Tom Odell

You look so pretty, pretty like the wind. Every time you touch me, I feel adrenaline.

lxxxv. Die With A Smile | Lady Gage, Bruno Mars

So I'ma love you every night, like it's the last night, like it's the last night. If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you.

lxxxvi. Northern Attitude | Noah Kahan

If I get too close and I'm not how you hoped, forgive my northern attitude. Oh, I was raised out in the cold. If the son doesn't rise until summertime, forgive my northern attitude. Oh, I was raised on little light.

lxxxvii. "Slut!" | Taylor Swift

Half awake, takin' your chance. It's a big mistake; I said, "It might blow up in your pretty face." I'm not saying, "Do it anyway," but you're going to.

lxxxviii. Backroads | Lonely The Brave

So the sinners stopped, and the villains turned, and I'll be the sky, and you be the bird.

lxxxix. Angel By The Wings | Sia

Oh, so, your wounds, they show. I know you have never felt so alone. But hold on, head up, be strong.

lxxxx. Too Deep | Ritual, Delilah

You said my signs were vital, that every touch was tidal. You held me, you held me so right, you held me so tight.

[bluesylveon2]

for the 500 follower special, idia + 75?

I love how all of my gamer knowledge reappeared as I was writing this lol.

Prompt: 75. I’m an insomniac who calls my best friend at 3am except I misdial on my landline and I tell you all about my nightmare before letting you talk and now I’m mortified but you don’t hang up (I changed it a bit)

Note: Modern au. Fainaru Fantajī XV is Final Fantasy 15 but in Japanese. I was gonna use FFXVI but idk how the story goes and I might just watch it on Youtube lol. I DO know the story for FFXV and I love it so much

Word Count: 959

Warnings: not beta read and possible OOC characters

500 Follower Event

Idia's day typically goes as follows: 1. Wake up, 2. Collect his dailies, 3. Stream in his room for hours (while snacking during it). 4. Use the bathroom. 5. Eat sweets, 6. Stream again. 7. Stream. What's sleep anyway?

Idia sighed after setting his headphones down. He just finished playing the latest Fainaru Fantajī XV game since its release. His body ached from the long sitting position, but it was all worth it for him. The story was good, and the gameplay was phenomenal! Idia needed to tell someone about it!

Usually, he would rant about it to Ortho. Still, his little brother was currently out of town because he was starring in a movie with the Vil Schoenheit. Idia was proud of his brother and wanted to keep his much-needed rest. 

Idia grabbed his phone and sorted through his list of friends.

Azul? No, he would only talk about board games. 

Riddle? No, they both had a mutual dislike for one another. 

Cater? HECK NO! NO NORMIES! (Idia made a mental note to delete his number later. How his contact information got on his phone was a mystery.)

Lilia? Idia's eyes widen. Yes! Lilia was perfect! They both share a love of games and often play co-op together. Surely he would be awake at, Idia glanced at the time, 3 am! Idia quickly typed his number, too excited to click on Lilia's number, and brought the phone to his ear. 

"Hello?" A clearly feminine voice replied, but Idia had already started his passionate ranting.

"Lilia! Did you get to play the newest Fainaru Fantajī XV game?"

"Who is-"

"I love the open world concept, and did you see the Regalia? That car screams luxury, and it has to be my dream car. I need to get one ASAP. That would show those lame normies I deal with, ugh."

"Lilia" laughed but continued trying to speak, "That's nice, but-"

"And the chemistry between the main characters! Luna was pretty, I guess? Lowkey women still scar me after the whole Eliza incident." Idia shivered at the memory of his "self-proclaimed" (and crazy) girlfriend (it was one-sided, and Idia didn't consider her his girlfriend anyway) in high school. Never again. "But the bond between Noctis and the other guys was top-notch! It made the gameplay even better!" Idia sighed and leaned back in his chair. "If only Noctis survived to the end, ya know? I guess the developers loved angst. The song choice at the end was the cherry on top. I actually shed a tear."

"Uhh, that's very interesting, but who is this?" "Lilia," asked, and Idia frowned. Now that he was partially done with his rant, he noticed the strange pitch in his friend's voice.

"Lilia, it's me, Idia. You know? The super cool guy who you spend playing League with. Are you sick? Your voice sounds off."

"I don't know a Lilia. My name is Yuu, and no, I am not sick. I am very healthy." Yuu's voice replied, and Idia froze. OH NO, NO, NO

"YOU'RE A GIRL?"

He could imagine the stranger frowning and thinking he was some creep. "Yes?"

"Eep!" Idia squealed and immediately pressed the big red "end call" button. He threw his phone at his bed, jumped face down on his bed, and groaned loudly. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! You just embarrassed yourself in front of a stranger! In front of a girl!" Idia was ready to bury himself in a hole.

Idia's phone rang just as he made the decision to do it. He groaned at the annoying ringtone, picked it up, and brought the phone to his ear without checking the caller ID. 

"Hello?"

A female voice laughed. "You hung up on me, Idia."

"Ah!" Idia screamed. He looked at his phone and raised his finger to hang up the call.

"Wait! Don't hang up!" Yuu exclaimed, causing Idia to freeze. He slowly brought his phone back to listen. The girl sighed after a minute passed. "Look, before you hang up again, I wanted to say that I love that game too."

Idia blinked, and his mouth opened in shock. "Y-you do?" he managed to say and wanted to facepalm.

Yuu laughed. "I'm not far into the game, though. I got distracted by fishing and playing with chocobos."

Idia felt himself relax, and he laughed with Yuu. "They are adorable. I liked racing them."

"Me too! Hey, Idia, can I ask you something?"

"Uhh, sure…What is it?"

Yuu sighed, and Idia could hear some shuffling on her end. She was probably adjusting herself to get comfortable. "Can you tell me more about the game? I need some help getting through it and would like some advice."

Idia felt a smirk grace his face. "Of course, you would need my help. I'll help you beat all the bosses with 0 deaths. You're good to talk for tonight?"

Yuu chuckled. "Yeah, I don't have anything planned. Oh great, Idia. Give me your wisdom." 

Idia ended up not sleeping that night but made a new friend instead. 

Bonus:

"I heard the Child of Man made a new friend." Malleus looked up from his Gao Gao Drakon-kun to speak to his father.

Lilia paused his game and turned to Malleus. "Oh? Did she say who?"

Malleus nodded. "It's actually your friend Idia. The one you often play games with." He said and gestured to the monitor that currently had Fainaru Fantajī XV. 

Lilia smiled, feeling happy for his friend. "What a coincidence. It is a small world, after all."

Malleus nodded and smiled, thinking about Yuu's happy rant that morning after staying up to talk to Idia before passing out from exhaustion. He was also delighted for her that she had met him. "Indeed it is."

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xviii

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: R and the Scooby-gang put into place their Ghostface trap.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, violence, murder.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: thought it was time for the GF reveal! were you right? wrong? idk, let me know!

You make it to the school in the passenger seat of Sam’s car without speaking the entire journey. 

You feel hollow. Like the world is crumbling around you, and Sam must feel it too. Her grip on the wheel is tight, sturdy, like she knows exactly what she has to do now. 

What you both have to do now. 

Get him. Kill him. For Tara. 

Mindy’s waiting outside the school when you pull up. 

She peers into the backseat, looking for Tara, looking a little confused when she can find her. 

“Where’s Tara?” Mindy asks.

Sam brushes her off. 

“Change of plan. Tara isn’t coming. It’s just us.”

Mindy’s eyes widen. 

“Sam,” She says, voice slow. Her eyes dart to you, “We can’t do this without Tara.” 

“Tara isn’t coming,” Sam stresses, “And we need to do this. For Tara, do you understand?” 

Mindy blinks. She fidgets with her phone. 

“I’m going to call her first and check.” She eyes you, no doubt terrified of the consequence if something were to happen to you. Tara isn’t shy about her love for you, and she certainly isn’t shy about what would happen to anyone who ever hurt you. 

“She’s been arrested,” You say, voice impatient, “She won’t pick up. The only way to help her is to catch this guy.” 

Mindy gawps. 

“She’s been arrested?”

“There’s no time,” Sam says, urgently, “Mindy, come on. YN, go to detention.” 

She puts her hands on your shoulders, squeezes tight. 

“And good luck.” 

-

The plan is so stupidly simple, yet there are about a hundred ways it can go wrong. 

You run through them on your way to detention, mind whirling, barely having the strength to put one foot in front of the other. 

Firstly, the band of so-called Ghost-face protectors is possibly the worst collaboration of people in the entire school to do the job. Chad’s a meathead. Liv, his ditzy companion. Mindy is all ludicrous theories and useless horror film knowledge, and you’re either so small or so weak your hundred pound, five foot one girlfriend can put you on your back without so much as breaking a sweat. 

Your only saving grace, it seems, is Sam. 

You’d left her with Mindy, shotgun in hand, dressed in a tank top and a pair of old ripped jeans, looking very much like she’s about to rip through a horde of zombies, rather than take on a single Ghostface. 

The only bright side to this awful situation is you no longer have to worry about Tara at the end of Ghostface’s knife. But the alternative - Tara locked in a jail cell for the rest of her life, is almost as bad. 

Principal Garcia greets you, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else on his Saturday off. Sam had called ahead about Tara and he either doesn’t care, or can’t be bothered to ask how she is. 

Instead, he sits at the front of the classroom, peering down at a newspaper through his spectacles as you settle into the front desk, nervously tapping your foot against the ground. 

Your eyes draw to the clock on the wall. 

The quiet click. The sound of Principal Garcia flipping his newspaper every now and then. Your heart is in your throat and it’s pounding so loud it drowns out almost everything else. 

This has to work. 

It if doesn’t - you’re fucked. 

You look behind you, to the closets lining the back of the room and pray Chad and Liv are already in there. You have one of Sam’s handguns in your backpack. You keep it on your lap, resting your hand on it, needing it close. 

Minutes pass. 

Ten. Twenty. Thirty. 

No sign of Ghostface. 

Your eyes glance up at the clock once more. 

You swallow. Start to think maybe this entire foolhardy plan is all for nothing. 

And then you see it. 

Through the crack of glass in the door, the bone-white of the mask. The long, black mouth. The hood. And before you can so much as cry out - Ghostface is ramming into the classroom, his knife raised. 

You scream. 

Principal Garcia’s head jerks around. 

Ghostface’s movements are steady, calculated. He rushes forward and in one easy swing, he slashes his knife towards Principal Garcia and slashes through his raised forearm.

“Sam!” You cry out. 

Ghostface’s head whips around to look at you. Principal Garcia crumbles to the ground, gasping, holding his bloodied arm. 

The cabinets burst open. 

Chad and Liv stumble out. Chad lets out what can only be described as a war-cry and charges forward, taking Ghostface off guard and tackling him to the ground. 

You stand, hands shaky as you reach for the pistol in your backpack. You click the safety off and raise it. Chad has Ghostface pinned down. The knife in his hands clatters to the ground. 

You squint, heart pounding as you try to find the shot. But their bodies are entwined, Chad’s grip on Ghostface lessening slightly as Ghostface juts his head upwards and smacks it into Chad’s. 

Chad cries out. 

Ghostface musters the strength to shake Chad off. 

You fire out a shot. 

But your grip isn’t steady. Your aim all over the place. The bullet whizzes past Ghostface and lodges itself into the blackboard. 

Ghostface reaches for his knife and stands. He’s tall, menacing. He steps closer. 

“Sam!” You cry out. 

The mask tilts. The knife in his hands gleaming. He takes another step closer, confident. Like he knows you’ll miss again. 

“Don’t come any closer, asshole.” Liv says. You feel her behind you, at your shoulder, “Shoot him, YN!” 

You fire again. 

And miss. 

All those practices with your Dad. All those bottles you’d blown clean open have nothing on the real thing. The adrenaline is too much. The fear of him is too much. 

“Where’s your girlfriend, YN?” He taunts. He flashes the knife, stepping closer once more. Another step and he’d be close enough to disarm you. You stumble back, gun in your hand shaking madly. 

“Guess she’s finally getting what she deserves,” He says, “And now I’m going to give you what you deserve.” 

The classroom door rams open once again. 

It draws both of your attention. It’s Sam, Mindy at her side. Her shotgun is drawn, her eyes blazing. 

“Back up asshole,” Sam says, voice even. Her hand isn’t shaking, she’s calm. Steady. You know she won’t miss. 

“Take off that mask and I won’t blow you bit from bit,” She says. She moves a little closer. 

If Ghostface knows he’s cornered, he doesn’t act like it. He turns from you like you’re not a threat, looks over to Sam and tuts at her. 

“Sam, Sam, Sam.” Ghostface says, “So protective. Such a good sister. I wonder if you’d still protect her if you knew. If you knew what sweet baby-Tara did in her spare time.” 

Sam cocks the gun. 

“Last chance,” She growls, “I won’t ask again.”

The adrenaline in your body evens out. Your heartbeat slows, the determination in your eyes settles. You steady your hands, knowing what you have to do. 

Sam wants him alive. Sam wants him to see justice. 

But if he’s alive, he can talk. 

If he’s alive he’ll tell everyone what Tara’s done. And you can’t have that. 

You lift your gun, only slightly. You close one eye, the way your Dad had taught you. 

You feel ethereal. Out of body. This is what Tara must feel like when she does it. Vision tunneled, like there’s only one thing in the world you want to do. 

And then you shoot a bullet right into Ghostface’s chest. 

Liv screams. 

The sound of the gun firing leaves your ears ringing. 

Sam blinks, startled, as Ghostface stumbles back, clutching the bloodied hole in his chest. 

He crumples to the ground, right next to Principal Garcia, gasping. 

You charge forward, kicking the knife out of his hands. 

There’s only one thing on your mind. You have to know who it is. You have to see his face before you blow it clean off. 

You lean down and rip the mask off the fuckers face. 

Liv gasps. Chad gawps. 

Sam’s grip on the shotgun wavers. 

You blink down in surprise. 

It’s Richie.

His eyes are wild, hazy. Blood pours thick and fast out of the bullet wound in his chest. The look in his eyes is terrifying. Pure hatred, hatred of you. Hatred of Tara. His mouth opens like he wants to speak, but he’s too injured. He’s moments from death, you can see it in his face.

Sam almost drops her gun. She sinks back, caught only by Mindy who steadies her shoulders. 

You swallow, mind racing. 

All those nights with him, the games with him. He’d slept only doors down from you and Tara. Tara had been so insistent it was him and you hadn’t listened. Because it didn’t make sense. 

Why?

He’s dead before he can give you an answer. 

“Holy shit.” Chad murmurs. His hands grip Liv’s shoulders. He looks to you, wide-eyed, “Are you alright?”

There’s a frog in your throat. You clear it once, twice, unable to take your eyes off the man who had tormented you for the past few weeks. 

“He didn’t get me.” You say. You suddenly remember Principal Garcia and look over to him. He’s clutching his arm, eyes as wide as everyone else's, but other than the gash, he looks okay. 

“Sam,” You murmur, looking over to her. 

Her face is white, no doubt her entire world crumbling around her. 

“Sam, are you okay? We need to call the police.” 

“They’re on their way,” Mindy says, rubbing Sam’s back, “I called them preemptively. Thought we might need them.” 

You place your gun on one of the desks, move over to where Sam is sitting. You crouch down, rest your hands on the tops of Sam’s thighs.

“Sam,” You say, “It’s over. It’s going to be okay. This is going to save Tara.” 

Sam blinks back at you but she’s barely there. She looks as though she might pass out. 

“Sam,” You promise, “It’s over.” 

-

The police arrive not five minutes later. 

The Sheriff blazes through the halls, stares wide-eyed at Richie’s dead body, Ghostface mask clattered next to him. 

They take your statements, one by one. 

Mindy tells them in great detail about the plan to capture him. Principal Garcia is rushed off to hospital to treat his arm. Sam sits quietly, not uttering a word until she’s spoken to. 

“My sister-” She says, voice hoarse. She’s blinking, slow, “You’re going to let her go now?”

The Sheriff pauses. 

“It’s not that simple, Sam,” She says, “We have witnesses- she was the last person to see my son alive-”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” Snaps Sam. She gestures to Richie’s body, “We’ve given you him. Clear as day. He framed my sister and you need to let her go.” 

Sheriff Hicks considers this. 

She looks over at Richie’s body, a little mournful, “If you’d kept him alive we could have interrogated him and cleared Tara’s name for good-” 

“It was self-defense.” Liv says, immediately, “He came at YN and the only way she could protect herself was by killing him. Right guys?” 

Mindy and Chad nod in unison. 

Sheriff Hicks stares at you. 

“Why would he kill my son?” She asks, and it’s urgent. Her eyes flitter, a mesh of grief and sorrow and confusion, “He didn’t even know him. Why would he kill him?”

“I don’t know.” You say. You swallow, “I’m sorry, Sheriff Hicks.” 

She stares back at you a moment. 

Then she’s nodding, blinking away the array of emotions she’d briefly allowed you to see. 

“That’s for me to figure out,” She says. She looks over at Sam, “We’ll release Tara. But Sam - that doesn’t mean she still isn’t a suspect. If we find any link between them-”

“There’s no link.” Sam says, “My sister is innocent.” 

The Sheriff nods. 

“I’ll call the station.” 

She moves over to speak to another officer. The relief on Sam’s face is palpable. You squeeze her thigh, mirror her relief with yours. 

Tara’s coming home. You’d given the police what they wanted - a suspect to pin the murders on. She’d come home and you’d kiss her and hold her and never let her go again. Your veins flood with dopamine, the nicest high you could possibly imagine. 

Tara’s safe. 

But Mindy's frowning. You move over to her, frowning a little. 

“What is it?” You ask. 

Mindy turns to you, the look in her eyes urgent. 

“Richie was there that night,” She says, “The night Tara was attacked. He was there with you and he wasn’t Ghostface. Not that night.” 

You blink. 

Mindy seizes your arm. 

“There’s two, YN,” She says, “There’s fucking two of them.” 

And your blood runs cold.