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FEMME (2023) | dir(s). Sam H. Freeman, Ng Choon Ping
#should be me & you george#nathan stewart jarrett#george mackay#femme 2023#femme#queer#couple#affection#intimacy#desire#sam freeman#ng choon ping#film#movies#filmedit#lgbt#gay#queer characters#queer media#beautiful men
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Basic Instinct #1 by Vanesa Del Rey and Sam Freeman. Covers by (1) Alberto Massaggia, (2) Del Rey, (3) BRÄO and (4) Chuma Hill. Out in November.
"Flesh seduces. Passion kills. An anonymous artist who draws their inspiration from famous murders has opened their newest exhibit surrounding the now infamous 'Icepick Murder' centered around Catherine Tramell. However, when a security guard of the exhibit is murdered on its opening night, the art director responsible for the opening is thrust into an investigation that forces him to question his own involvement."
#basic instinct#catherine tramell#massive publishing#sumerian comics#vanesa del rey#sam freeman#alberto massaggia#bräo#chuma hill#variant cover#comics
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3/8 oneshot requests filled
This is a little update on my reader-request-darkfic-project on Ao3, Barbwired Tumbleweed, this time intended for the Micah fans. Three of eight fills are now done, and I'll begin filling the other five requests.
(Undead!Abigail x soon-to-be-undead!John smut is next in line!!!)
Below are links with info on the three fics. One is Gen, one is M/F and one is M/M, but remember, these stories are intentionally disturbing.
1. Bear Trap: Micah Bell & Bill Williamson. While running from an O'Driscoll, Micah gets his foot stuck in a bear trap. He is then saved by a bear.
2. Night Swimming: Micah Bell/Jenny Kirk. Jenny is out swimming one late evening, reaching the outskirts of camp, where she spots a familiar figure.
3. Barbwired Tumbleweed: Micah Bell/Sam Freeman. After committing crimes in Tumbleweed, Micah trades sexual favors against water with the sheriff.
These three all include varying degrees of graphic violence. Number 2 and 3 deserve a rape/non-con warning. All (of my fics ever) have ambiguous endings that might be considered bad endings by some.
I had a lot of fun writing these!!!
Thanks to those that shared their ideas with me :D
#amras writes#red dead redemption fanfic#rdr2 fanfic#micah bell#jenny kirk#bill williamson#sam freeman
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#Red Dead Redemption#Red Dead Redemption 3#Jack Marston#Hosea Matthews#Mac Callander#Sadie Adler#Charles Smith#Lyle Morgan#Rains Fall#Landon Ricketts#Sam Freeman#Lenny Summers
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Out this week: Basic Instinct #1 (Sumerian, $4.99):
In one of the more surprising comics licensing moves, Sumerian has obtain the rights to make a comic book spinoff based on the 1992 film Basic Instinct — which is not a sentence I ever expected to be typing in 2023. It’s by Sam Freeman and the wonderful Vanesa Del Rey, who present a new story inspired by the “Icepick Murders” centered around Catherine Tramell (Sharon Stone’s character in the film).
See what other comics and graphic novels will make their way into comic shops this week.
#basic instinct#comics#comic books#new comic book day#can't wait for comics#ncbd#new comics day#new comics#new comics wednesday#vanesa del rey#sam freeman#sumerian comics
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Preview: Hound
Hound preview. During World War I, a young soldier is assigned to one of the most deadly areas along the western front. However, he finds the greatest threat to his life lies not with the enemy, but with a cult formed by his own men #comics #comicbooks
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ADVANCE REVIEW: Death is Everywhere in Mad Cave's Wartime Graphic Novella HOUND
A review of the upcoming Mad Cave graphic novella HOUND, by writers Sam Freeman and Sam Romesburg and artist Rodrigo Vásquez
In 2024, Mad Cave is celebrating ten years of quietly putting out comics. This latest slate of books is an eclectic set of distinctive and creator-driven comics. It’s been exciting to read each of these releases, not knowing quite what you are going to get. Even when they are flawed, these books provide a spotlight for creators to express their distinctive voices. The upcoming original graphic…
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#comic books#comic review#comic reviews#comics#comics criticism#comics review#horror#horror comics#Hound#Mad Cave#review#Rodrigo Vasquez#Sam Freeman#Sam Romesburg#writing
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Keep Your Eyes on Me
tara carpenter x female reader
summary: You’ve quickly become close with all of Tara’s friends, but her trust issues keep her at a distance from you. But maybe you're able to chip away at her defenses...
word count: 2.2k
————
"I don't get why no one else is suspicious of her!" Tara exclaims looking around at everyone with a frustrated expression. "Mindy? You're literally suspicious of every living thing. And Sam what the fuck, you don't let me leave the house unless I'm carrying a cross bow or something," she exaggerates rolling her eyes.
"Why are we speaking about me like I'm not here?" You whisper to Chad next to you while ripping your string cheese into strands. He laughs but so does everyone else, seems like your whisper wasn't as quiet as you thought.
Tara groans frustrated and heads up the stairs, leaving her friends and you in the living room in an awkward silence.
Sam was the first to break it, "She'll come around, it's just been hard on her you know? Trusting new people and all that fun stuff."
You give her a nod completely understanding the root of Tara's issues with you, it wasn't personal but that didn't mean her distrust in you didn't sting. Especially considering it's been four months since you met the group.
"I am curious though," you speak, "She's not wrong Mindy, you're sus of everyone. And Sam why do you trust me too?"
"Well you met my brother playing pickle ball," the twin speaks. "Pickle ball doesn't really strike me as a psychopathic killer activity," she laughs.
"Neither does string cheese. Can you imagine Ghostface stringing their cheese and eating it?" Sam adds with a laugh.
You don't know whether to be relieved or offended that your habits don't indicate you to be a killer. But you're grateful that the rest of the group clicked with you quickly after Chad introduced you to them.
The core four minus Tara sometimes wanted to smack the girl across the head for being so oblivious and blind to you. Before you met the group Chad being the yapper that he is, explained all that happened in the past year and a half, so you were fairly well equipped with knowledge on how to navigate a friendship with everyone.
Everyone also noticed how attentive you were to Tara especially. You didn't know what it was but you immediately developed a soft spot for the girl when Chad told you all she went through. Meeting her for the first time you instinctively felt the need to protect her but that's been quite hard with her negative feelings towards you, but that doesn't mean you don't try.
————
Sam eventually goes up to Tara's room once everyone leaves and decides to put an end to this. The younger Carpenter looks at her sister from her bed when the door is opened at a speed where its hinges could fly off.
"Jesus Sam, why are we trying to break my door."
"What the hell are you doing Tara?" Sam gets to the point ignoring the question.
"What are you talking about?"
"Y/n."
"Ughhhhhh!" She turns around face planting into her pillow with a groan, hating the topic of you.
"It's been four months and you haven't once given the poor girl the benefit of the doubt." The sister says softly. "I don't know why you're so keen on hating her, it's like you want her to be Ghostface just so you can prove a point."
Tara turns around to respond, clearly annoyed. "Because it's so clear she doesn't have good intentions! I don't get you either sis, you want me to be cautious of people, but it's a problem when its Y/n?"
Sam sighs moving to sit on the foot of the bed, "Tara, do you not see how much that girl cares about you?"
Tara is silent and looks down at her fiddling hands not knowing what to say. She does know how much you care and she hates it.
All those times you would come over to her place with the excuse of "Mindy sent me to grab something" but you always stayed until Sam got home from work, just so she wouldn't have to be alone.
"Clearly you do realize how much she cares for you," Sam says taking notice of her sister's silence and demeanor.
Tara turns red recalling how you would always be attentive to the leg that Ghostface broke a year ago. You would always position yourself so she'd have access to the railing of a staircase. Offer to drive her places that may have seemed like too lengthy of a walk. Straggle behind the group when you realized she couldn't walk as fast as the others. And even deprive yourself of any physical activities that the group was participating in, so Tara wouldn't feel alone when she sat out.
"The damn girl literally sits in the kitchen whenever your hungry ass wants to cook something so you'd feel safer!" Sam suddenly says. "Even I hadn't thought about how being in the kitchen may give you PTSD."
Tara hadn't either. But now that she knew the reason why you'd sit with her in the kitchen, she realized that she did feel much more comfortable with you in there then the times you weren't. After all she did have her attack take place in the kitchen. The brown eyed girl shrunk into her sweater in shame as she recalled how poorly she treated you that day.
You leave the group who were playing an intense round of charades in the living room and decide to join Tara who was alone in the kitchen.
"Hey what are you making?" You smile.
She ignores you and continues to get the seasoning out for the mac and cheese she was making herself.
"Why aren't you playing with everyone else?" Tara suddenly spoke.
"Just wanted to see what you were up to."
"Well you can leave now," she rolls her eyes.
"I'm good, I'll stay here."
"You do know that you aren't winning any points with me by trying to talk to me and forcing proximity right?" Tara says with attitude. "I still don't trust you and if your goal isn't to kill me, but just to get in my pants, then I'm so sorry if I ever made you believe that you had a chance with me." she finishes sarcastically feigning a genuine apology.
"Not my goal," you reply keeping it short. You knew the girl would not receive anything you say, so you got up from the seat you initially took at the island in the kitchen and went to the dining table which was a little further away. Tara thought that you left since she didn't hear any comments from you anymore and her pride was too high for her to turn around and check if you were still there. She couldn't control the frown that was making its way onto her face. That was until she heard you scrolling through TikToks at the table and suddenly felt a sense of relief that couldn't be explained.
She would continue to finish her mac and cheese and tried to hide her laugh from any funny TikTok sounds she heard from your phone. And tried her hardest to shutdown her curiosity whenever she heard your laugh. As soon as she finished making her bowl, she walked out of the kitchen not even glancing at you. She was too stubborn to realize that she hadn't once thought about her attack due to your presence in the kitchen.
Until now.
"That's why I trust her Tara," Sam reveals. "She notices things that I don't. I can't always be watching out for you. You need to have a bunch who have your back, and for that to happen you need to take a chance on people here and there."
"Just think about it. Just separate your idea of Y/n being Ghostface and the possibility that she can betray you. And ask yourself what kind of person is left standing in front you. And is that the type of person you want to take a chance on."
————
Two weeks have gone by since the group last saw each other, and since then you and Tara were able to do a lot of individual thinking. Today the group decided that they went too long without seeing each other and they all decided to go to bar in downtown Manhattan.
Everyone decided to meet at the Carpenter residence, and Tara hated to admit it, but she was excited to see you, but she also felt nervous at the thought of being around you.
You were the last to arrive, and you greeted all your friends with a smile. Tara was waiting with a smile for you to greet her like you always do, but it never happened.
You ignored her.
"Is everyone ready to go?" You say looking at everyone except Tara.
The shorter girl had to compose herself before anyone realized that she was bothered by your lack of acknowledgement. She didn't know how to feel, what in the world were you doing?
The group made their way to the subway in one piece, and the two Carpenter sisters were walking side by side while everyone else was a little ahead.
"What the fuck is Y/n doing?" Tara whisper yells to her sister.
"What do you mean?" Sam replies playing stupid.
"She's not even looking at me?" Tara admits, not caring at how childish she sounds. "Why isn't she paying attention to me?"
Sam laughs at what two weeks of not seeing you and some deep reflection has done to her sister. "I mean what do you expect, it's not fair for her to keep trying for someone who doesn't make the same effort. She's probably done trying." Despite her words, Sam didn't believe a thing she was saying, she wondered what the intentions behind your actions were, but the Carpenter knew it was nothing ill.
Tara makes a hmpf sound, and tries to act unbothered by her sister's words. But the idea of you not having your gaze on her worries her more than she would like to admit.
Meanwhile 20 paces in front the sisters you and the twins are having a interesting conversation of your own.
"I can't do this anymore!" You whine looking at Mindy.
"Girl, stand the fuck up, it's been 20 minutes since we left the house, can't you see that it's already working?"
Chad chimes in, "Honestly I agree with my sister for once, she'll be yours by the end of today."
"W-whoa I don't want her to be mine or anything," you blush. "She's gone through a lot, I just need her to tolerate me, you know?"
Mindy rolls her eyes but smiles, happy that Tara has someone patient like you in her life. "Yeah yeah Y/l/n, now walk faster, it's not like she can run and catch up."
Your jaw drops while Chad drops dead in laughter.
Everyone manages to get onto the same subway cart in one piece, and you realized how much harder it was going to be acting like you can't notice Tara in here. The subway was packed from one end to the other. And you just so happened to be standing next to the only available seat.
You glance at Tara only to see her already looking at you and you immediately look away. Trying to get Mindy's attention you some how try your best to mime to her that you want Tara to sit in the free seat. Though of course Mindy's horrible charade skills translate into real life and she ends up sitting in the seat herself.
You face palm at your friend, and gave up on trying to look out for Tara. But in that very moment you notice a man getting far too close to the girl than you would like. It was a crowded cart so proximity was a given, but this seemed deliberate on the stranger's part.
Acting without thinking, you shove the guy as casually as you can to the side, not realizing that it meant you are now face to face with Tara. Just as you were about to break and speak to her, the subway doors open at your stop.
Tara hated that the doors interrupted the words you were going to say to her, but was grateful that it got her attention off of you before you could notice the blush on her cheeks.
As everyone got off the subway, you find yourself straggling behind the group out of habit. Just as you attempt to quicken your pace, you feel a tug on your sleeve.
Tara looks up at you with her big eyes, and you don't know what to do. This is the first time the girl has looked at you without rolling her eyes or looking away immediately.
"I'm sorry," she mutters.
You didn't know what to say, and continue walking with her by your side, so you don't fall too far behind from your friends. "It's okay," you mutter back looking straight ahead.
You don't blame the girl for her behaviours. Her traumas manifested into something difficult and she was making an attempt to be better. That's all that mattered to you. And maybe you were just too weak for the girl that you would let anything slide, but you were fine with that too.
Tara smiles at you, happy that you weren't giving her a hard time. Happy that you understood what those two words she just told you encapsulates.
Suddenly she grabs you by your arm and holds it as you walk side by side.
Startled by her touch you look at her.
She smiles up at you, "It's easier for you to keep your eyes on me this way. No need for secret glances."
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x female reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter imagine#beetlejuice#tara carpenter x female reader#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter#scream 2022#tara carpenter x you#scream 5#scream vi#scream franchise#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x you#amber freeman#cairo sweet#cairo sweet x reader
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Dutch van der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sam Freeman, Sadie Adler, Esteban Cortez, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Chapter 6: Beaver Hollow (Red Dead Redemption 2), Magical Realism, Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Language, Action Series: Part 2 of Последний рассвет, первый рассвет Summary:
Одинокий всадник, скрываясь от призраков своего прошлого, въезжает в умирающий город. Одинокий всадник пока еще не догадывается, что он уже давно не один. И что призраки гораздо ближе, чем он думал.
#rdr#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews#sam freeman#sadie adler#esteban cortez#fanfiction
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unanswered II
pairing: tara carpenter & female reader
summary: tara finally comes to her senses.
word count: 6k
author’s note: sorry for the wait guys! might be forgiven tho since i claimed this was 4k words but it ended up with 6k.
i tried to include all your suggestions so i hope you like it
Tara had been blocked.
You had blocked her.
Though, it didn't hit her all at once. The first few minutes, she thought you were just asleep, it had been late when she had texted you after all.
Maybe you needed space after what Tara had said a few nights before, and she couldn't blame you for that.
Yet she still tried texting you, each one more desperate than the last. They were all small messages, apologies wrapped in awkward words that probably didn't mean much for anyone but her.
At first, Tara chalked it up to bad timing, bad service, something.
You had to see her messages eventually, right? So she kept sending them. But there was still no reply. Then, the doubt crept in.
Maybe you were ignoring her.
That thought weighed heavily on her, but she didn't stop.
She was still convinced there had to be an explanation. You always stayed. Even when things were at their worst, when she screwed up time and time again, you stayed.
But something was different this time. She felt it.
Then she noticed the green bubbles. The messages weren't delivering.
Her stomach had dropped. It wasn't bad service. It wasn't bad timing. You had cut her off completely.
Her thumb hovered over your contact, thinking about calling, but she stopped. What was the point? You wouldn't answer.
You were done with her.
She stared at her phone for longer than she should have, as if willing it to change.
But it didn't.
The reality sank in, slow and suffocating. You were gone.
For the first time, she wasn't the one walking away, and the absence of you—your presence, your texts, your warmth—was a hole Tara hadn't even realized she relied on.
It wasn't like she hadn't expected it after everything that had happened.
You always had a way of catching her when she messed up, but things seemed to smooth over eventually.
She never really had to confront her mistakes because you stayed, no matter how many times she got it wrong. Now, though, there was nothing.
Tara wasn't used to this. Sure, she knew she had done something wrong—pushing you away, keeping you in this weird limbo while she figured herself out—but she hadn't thought it would lead to you cutting her off.
Blocking her, even.
That had never happened before. No matter how many times she messed up, you had always been there, willing to pick up the pieces, and things just... worked.
She hadn't even realized how much she relied on your presence until it was gone.
For the first time, she was completely alone. No Amber, no you. Just silence.
———
Tara woke up the next morning with a strange sense of hope. She half expected to see the messages had been delivered, that maybe you'd unblocked her while she was asleep. Maybe it was all just a mistake. You wouldn't really cut her off, not after everything, right?
She grabbed her phone, swiping to the messages she'd sent.
Still green.
Her heart sank, the pit in her stomach deepening as she realized nothing had changed. You were serious. You weren't coming back.
When she got to school, a part of her still thought maybe you'd be there, waiting to talk like you always did, or at least watching from afar. She found herself glancing at the spots where she usually saw you, waiting for that familiar feeling of your eyes on her.
But you weren't there.
But Tara kept walking, her heart heavy as she scanned the hallways. That's when she spotted Amber, standing by her locker, waiting. The familiar feeling of longing tugged at her, but this time it wasn't as comforting as before.
Amber caught her eye and signaled for her to come over, flashing that smile Tara always fell for. Without thinking, Tara did. She walked straight into Amber's arms, letting Amber sling her arm casually around her shoulders as if nothing had changed between them.
For a brief moment, Tara felt like she had what she wanted. Amber was there, holding her close, showing everyone that she was hers—at least for today.
But there was still a heaviness in her chest, something she couldn't shake. It didn't make sense. She was with Amber now, wasn't this enough?
The thought of you crept in, uninvited.
No, it couldn't be that.
She pushed the feeling down, convincing herself that having Amber was enough.
It had to be.
That's what she told herself for the following days, trying to convince herself that Amber was enough, that this was what she wanted.
And for a while, it almost worked. Amber had been good—more attentive, more affectionate than usual—at least during the school week.
The weekends, though, were different. Parties took priority, and Amber's attention drifted.
Yet even when things were good; better than ever if you will, Tara couldn't shake the feeling lodged in her chest, that gut-wrenching discomfort that seemed to cling to her no matter how much she tried to ignore it.
The more she tried to push it down, the more it twisted inside her, leaving her uneasy.
And all of the thoughts led back to you. To Tara's own surprise.
You didn't try to search for her between classes, didn't glance in her direction when you passed her in the hallways. Nothing. Like she didn't even exist.
That was what Tara should've expected, really. After everything she'd done—after the way she'd strung you along, pushed you aside, left you waiting on the sidelines—it made sense. She had no right to expect anything different.
Tara had always been the one to call the shots, to decide when and where things stood between the two of you. Now, for the first time, the power was out of her hands.
She kept telling herself it was temporary. You'd come back—you always did. She just had to wait it out. Maybe this time it would take a little longer, but you'd be there, eventually. You had to be. So she forced herself to get used to it, to the absence, pretending she could handle the emptiness you left behind.
But what really started to get under Tara's skin wasn't just your absence or the way you seemed to move on so easily. It was seeing you with someone else.
She first noticed it during English class. You had been sitting next to some girl—someone Tara vaguely recognized but never really paid attention to before.
At first, she didn't think much of it, but as the days went on, she kept seeing the two of you together. Talking. Laughing. It wasn't just casual conversations either. You looked comfortable. Almost like you were enjoying yourself.
And as the days passed, Tara couldn't help but notice it more.
You hadn't even glanced her way in days, and yet here you were, cozying up to someone else like nothing had happened.
And every time she glanced in your direction during class, there you were, talking to her. Sometimes you'd laugh, or lean in a little closer, your body language relaxed in a way that made Tara's stomach twist.
You weren't just sitting next to each other anymore—you were... comfortable. And it wasn't just in English. She caught sight of you together in the hallways, outside the building after school.
The more she saw the two of you, the more it grated on her nerves. A sharp, simmering anger that built with each passing day.
Every smile, every shared glance between you and this girl made it harder for her to focus on Amber, even when Amber was right beside her, holding her hand or whispering in her ear.
It shouldn't have bothered her like this. It shouldn't have mattered.
You were free to talk to whoever you wanted. For all Tara knew, she was just a classmate, someone you happened to sit next to by chance.
But that didn't stop the ugly feeling from growing inside her, gnawing away at her with every interaction she witnessed.
She told herself it was nothing. That it didn't mean anything. But with every glance, every shared word between you and that girl, her anger simmered, coiling tighter until it was all she could focus on.
It wasn't jealousy, Tara told herself. It couldn't be. She had Amber, after all.
Yet there was no denying the way her chest tightened every time she saw you with her. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. You weren't supposed to matter anymore.
But somehow, you still did. Of course you did.
___
"What's got your panties in a twist?" Amber's voice broke through Tara's thoughts, cutting through the low hum of the campus.
Her tone was sharp, playful in a way that normally would've made Tara grin, but today it grated, pulling her out of the spiral she had been sinking into.
They were sitting outside, perched on one of the weathered wooden benches that lined the quad, the usual bustling energy of lunchtime fading as the crowd thinned.
Chad and Liv had disappeared first, throwing out some half-hearted excuse about "something better to do," Mindy had ditched too—not that Tara blamed her, considering she wasn't exactly Amber's biggest fan. Which left only Amber and Tara behind.
Normally, Tara would've reveled in that—the rare chance to have Amber's full attention, unshared, unchallenged by anyone else. She used to crave these moments when it was just the two of them, when Amber's eyes were only on her.
But now, Tara could barely summon the energy to care. The thrill of it had dulled, smothered under the weight of everything else she couldn't stop thinking about—of everything she couldn't feel.
Your absence hung heavy in the air, even though Amber didn't know it was there. She couldn't know.
She wouldn't have cared if she did.
Amber shifted beside her, more out of impatience than concern. "Seriously, you've been acting weird all week," she pressed, her voice tinged with frustration.
She wasn't used to Tara being so distant, and the idea that something might be slipping out of her control clearly bothered her. "What's your problem?"
Tara blinked, her mind sluggish, trying to catch up. It wasn't like she could explain it—not in any way that made sense.
How could she tell Amber that the cold shoulder she had been getting from you had thrown her completely off balance?
That it was the same cold shoulder she'd given you, over and over again, each time leaving you on the outside while she stayed wrapped up in Amber's world. How could she admit that now, when it was her on the receiving end, it felt like a punch to the gut every single time she saw you?
"I don't know," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "I'm just tired."
It was the best she could come up with, the easiest excuse, but even as the words left her lips, she knew it wasn't enough.
Amber wasn't the type to let things slide, especially not when it came to Tara. She was used to being the center of attention, the one calling the shots, and when Tara's focus wasn't on her, Amber always took notice.
"Yeah, well, you've been 'tired' for a while now," Amber snapped back, her tone cutting through the brief silence like a whip.
She didn't sound concerned, not really—just annoyed, irritated that something wasn't going her way. "Maybe you should come out with me this weekend, you know? Party with me."
Amber's suggestion hung in the air between them, and Tara hesitated. Normally, Amber didn't bother to ask.
She'd go without her, living up the night on her own, letting Tara watch it all from the sidelines. She'd see it unfold through Amber's and other people's social media—photos and videos of Amber laughing, surrounded by friends, completely absorbed in her own world.
But this time, it felt different. Tara could feel it in the way Amber's eyes lingered on her, waiting, expecting something—expecting Tara to be excited, to jump at the chance like she would've done before.
But the thought of it, the thought of pretending everything was fine, felt suffocating.
She nodded anyway, forcing herself to give Amber the answer she was waiting for, even if it felt hollow. "Yeah. Sure."
But even as the words came out, Tara felt the weight of them, heavy and wrong.
Because the truth was, none of it mattered—not the party, not Amber's fleeting attention. None of it made a dent in the gnawing ache in her chest that had started the moment you stopped looking at her.
She told herself it was fine. She could play along. She had done it before. But deep down, Tara knew that no matter how much she tried to push it down, nothing could fix this disgusting feeling.
She sat in silence for a moment longer, staring at the ground as her mind whirred with thoughts she didn't want to have.
She clenched her jaw, trying to shake the feeling, trying to make herself believe that this—Amber, the party, all of it—would be enough. It definitely would've been before, hadn't it?
But now, the weight of your absence pressed in on her from every angle, heavy and suffocating. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. It wasn't supposed to matter so much.
Amber shifted beside her, sighing loudly. "Whatever, Tara," she muttered, standing up and brushing invisible dust off her jeans. "Don't get all weird on me."
Tara barely registered her leaving. The rush of relief she might have once felt in moments like these—when Amber turned her attention elsewhere—was gone, replaced by an ache she couldn't name.
A week ago, maybe two, Tara would've called after her, almost running to catch up. She would've asked if they could get ready together, spent half an hour agonizing over what she should wear, hoping for Amber's approval.
Her mind would've spun with questions, things she'd never needed to worry about when she was around you.
What should she wear? What did Amber want her to look like? Was her hair okay down, or should she try something new? She would've sent selfies for Amber's opinion, eager for a reaction, any reaction, to reassure her that she was enough.
But now, the questions didn't come. They felt distant, buried under the weight that had settled in her chest and refused to leave. Tara didn't care what Amber thought anymore. She didn't even care what she looked like.
The weekend came sooner than she had expected, almost sneaking up on her while she drifted through the week in a haze.
Throughout the week, Tara had tried to text you. Just one message each day, nothing too desperate, nothing that screamed she was losing her mind over your silence.
But each time, the bubble turned green, and with every little notification, her hope that you might respond twisted into something bitter, something angry.
Were you with her? That girl from your English class, the one she'd seen you walking with down the hallways, laughing, your head bent close to hers like you didn't have a care in the world.
Tara's stomach knotted at the thought, her grip tightening on her phone every time she imagined the two of you together. Were you sharing the jokes you used to save just for her? Did you laugh the same way?
By the time Friday came around, the anger had wrapped itself around her chest, growing heavier each time she looked at her phone, still green, still silent.
It weighed on her as she stood in front of the mirror that night, staring at her reflection like a stranger. She had thrown on whatever was closest, not caring how it looked—not caring how she looked—and now, standing there, she could feel the frustration boiling over.
She looked terrible, and she knew it. The clothes didn't sit right, her hair was a mess, and she didn't even have the energy to fix any of it.
Normally, she'd have texted Amber for advice, asked her what to wear, how to do her makeup. They might've gotten ready together if Amber cared enough, Amber teasing her the whole time but never letting her leave the house unless she looked perfect.
But tonight, none of that mattered. Tara was angry—angry at herself, at you, at the girl you were probably with right now. She felt like she was spinning, her thoughts spiraling into a million catastrophic possibilities, each one worse than the last.
Maybe she just needed to see you in person. Maybe if she could find you, look you in the eye, and tell you how she was feeling right now, you'd understand. Maybe that's what would finally break through this silence.
If she could just get you to listen, maybe if she could tell you all of it—how she didn't know what she was doing, how none of it made sense to her—you'd understand.
But would you even believe her? Would you even want to hear her out?
Without thinking twice, she pulled out her phone and typed out a message to Amber.
can't make it tonight. smth came up.
She didn't even wait for a response before throwing her phone onto the bed, her mind already somewhere else.
Part of her wanted to look you up, track you down, and talk to you face-to-face. Whether you were with someone else or just avoiding her the way she'd been avoiding you —but either way, Tara was done waiting around for you to reach out.
She stood frozen for a moment, feeling ridiculous as the thought of showing up at your house unannounced settled in.
She could already picture how stupid she'd look, standing at your door, trying to explain herself. You'd blocked her—didn't that already say everything she needed to know?
But then that other girl's face flashed in her mind, the way you laughed with her, walked next to her in the halls.
The thought of her taking you away, of her being the one you shared everything with now, twisted Tara's stomach in knots. She couldn't let that happen. Not without at least trying.
She didn't want to be too late.
Tara hated how desperate she felt, how even after everything, after you'd blocked her, she was still running after you. But she couldn't help it.
Even if she had to look you in the eye and hear you say you didn't want her anymore, she needed to know for sure. She needed to fight, because the thought of losing you to someone else was worse than any rejection you could throw at her.
With a deep breath and her hands shaking, she grabbed her jacket and keys.
Feeling stupid the whole way, she headed out the door, her heart pounding with every step she took toward your house.
___
didn't think u were weak enough to back out.
guess i was wrong.
Amber's text lit up her screen, but Tara barely glanced at it.
Normally, Amber's words usually stung, leaving Tara questioning herself, doubting everything. But tonight, they barely registered. She didn't care anymore, not about Amber's opinion or her insults.
The thought of how she'd been stringing you along—pushing and pulling, hot and cold—made her stomach twist in a way Amber's games never had.
Tara had always hated how Amber toyed with her, how she'd be there one day and gone the next, keeping Tara on a leash just long enough to never fully let go. Now, she realized, she was doing the same to you. She'd been selfish, scared, and now it was coming back to haunt her.
Amber had dragged her through the same emotional mess for so long—back and forth, never knowing where they stood—and now she had done the same to you.
It wasn't about Amber anymore. It was about you. And she wasn't going to let you slip away without at least trying.
She made it to your house almost sooner than she'd liked. The sight of your front door tightened the knot in her stomach, something she wasn't used to feeling.
Tara wasn't the nervous type—usually, she could handle herself in any situation, always sure of what she'd say or do. But now, her palms felt damp, her breath catching every time she thought of you opening that door.
She didn't know what she was going to say. Hell, she didn't even know if you'd open the door. But she had to try, even if her nerves were making her feel like a complete idiot for being there.
But she was already here, and she'd come this far—she couldn't just turn back now. She'd fought her way through every doubt to get here, and backing down wasn't an option.
Her feet felt heavy as she took each step up the walkway, the familiar creak of the wooden steps underfoot echoing louder in her ears than it ever had before.
The closer she got, the more every little detail stood out—the chipped paint on your door, the soft glow of light seeping out from the window.
She raised her hand to knock, fingers hovering just inches away, her heart pounding so loudly she wondered if you'd hear it from the other side.
Taking a deep breath, she let her knuckles tap lightly against the door, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the still night air.
It took long enough for you to answer that her thoughts had time to spiral. She knew your parents weren't home; in the little time she'd spent actually getting to know you, she'd learned that they hardly ever were.
You were probably home alone, and the idea haunted her—maybe you'd invited someone else over, maybe you weren't even alone at all, maybe you were with that girl she'd seen you with before.
By the time she heard footsteps approaching, her heart was beating so fast she almost felt sick, every possibility fighting for space in her mind.
Finally, the door swung open, and for a split second, there was a soft smile on your face.
But the moment your eyes landed on her, it vanished, replaced by something unreadable.
It wasn't anger—your expression was calm, almost neutral, yet there was a guardedness to it, like you'd been caught off guard, not entirely prepared to see her standing there.
The warmth in your eyes had dimmed, leaving something harder to read.
Tara couldn't tell if that look meant you were relieved or if she was the last person you wanted to see right now.
For a second, Tara felt so small. She knew she was short, but this was different—she'd never felt this out of place, like she was shrinking right there on your doorstep. Not since Amber.
Her fingers fidgeted, tracing over her knuckles as she tried to read you, to figure out what was going on behind that guarded expression. She barely registered the sound of her name until she heard your voice.
"Tara.. Hi."
The words hung there, making the quiet between you even heavier.
Tara didn't respond right away, too caught up in the questions swirling through her mind.
Had she interrupted something? Were you expecting someone else—someone who actually wanted to be here?
Her mind raced, flashing back to all the times you'd tried reaching out, inviting her over, and all the times she'd ignored you, too wrapped up in the momentary thrill of Amber's attention.
She hadn't let herself think about what that might've felt like for you.
And now, standing here, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was karma—that maybe you'd moved on, found someone else who didn't make you feel like a backup option. What if, after all this, she was too late?
Finally, after a moment, she managed to speak, her voice barely above a whisper, unsteady.
"Were... were you expecting somebody else?" Her words faltered, her gaze fixed on her hands as she twisted her fingers together, almost as if she could hold onto some kind of confidence.
You furrowed your brows just slightly, a small, almost confused smile pulling at the corner of your mouth as you let out a soft, breathy laugh. "No... why would I?"
Tara's mouth opened, but no words came out right away. She hadn't expected you to look so genuinely surprised, and now she felt her cheeks warming, her gaze darting down as she scrambled for something to say. Her fingers twisted together, and she forced herself to meet your eyes again, feeling silly for even bringing it up.
"I... I don't know. I just thought... maybe." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she hated how uncertain it sounded, as if she'd already given away too much. But she couldn't help it—she just had to know.
You tilted your head slightly, still wearing that soft smile, though there was a hint of something knowing in your eyes.
"Is she.. ignoring you again?" you asked, the question so casual yet so pointed that Tara's breath hitched.
She knew you meant Amber—you didn't even need to say her name. And the worst part was, she felt a pang of guilt because, honestly, it wouldn't have been the first time.
She swallowed hard, feeling like her own answer was betraying her. "Actually... no," she said slowly, her voice faltering as she tried to piece together her words. "She, uh, actually invited me to a party."
Your expression shifted, that lightness fading from your eyes, and Tara's stomach twisted painfully when she noticed.
She hadn't expected you to react like that, hadn't anticipated that flicker of hurt crossing your face. And now, standing there in the doorway, she felt a rush of regret wash over her.
Before she could stop herself, she added, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I didn't... I didn't go."
You didn't respond right away, just looked at her, eyebrows raised, silently waiting. Tara shifted under your gaze, feeling smaller by the second, until finally, she started to speak.
"I know you probably... don't want to talk to me right now," she began, her voice a little too fast, like she was rushing to get the words out before she lost her nerve.
She took a shaky breath and continued, "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I mean, it's not like I've given you a reason to, you know, feel any different... or... yeah."
Her hand drifted up to her wrist, squeezing it as she fumbled for her next thought. "I... I messed up. And, I've been thinking about it, like, a lot, and it's just—I didn't know what I was doing. I mean, I thought I did, but then I... I didn't. And I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't... important, or that I didn't care, because I did. I do."
She bit her lip, glancing up at you, unsure if she was making any sense, but she kept going. "I know it's probably too late to say any of this, and you've probably moved on, but I just... I don't know. I didn't want you to think that I... forgot about you. Or... or that you didn't matter."
Her gaze flickering down to the ground, then up to yours again, almost as if she's scared you'll walk away.
"That message where I told you to... that I didn't want anything to do with you..." She shakes her head, struggling for the right words. "I shouldn't have said that. I was... I don't even know what I was thinking. I just... Amber was there, and I felt like if I didn't, she'd—" She stops herself, clenching her fists a little, swallowing hard.
"And all those other messages.. I just kept trying to say sorry, but it was probably just... desperate, I guess. I didn't know how else to say that I... I wanted you, that I didn't mean it. That I still..."
Her words falter, and she sighs, rubbing her forehead as though exhausted with herself. "I know it probably doesn't make up for any of it, but... I swear, I didn't mean it. I never wanted to hurt you."
As soon as she stopped talking, a wave of embarrassment crashed over her, and it was all she could do not to cringe.
She hadn't even planned on saying half of what she'd said, and yet here she was, fumbling through one strained apology after another.
It felt messy, like she was just piling words on top of words, hoping that somehow they'd turn into something that made sense to you, that could somehow make things better.
But in her heart, she knew it sounded like nonsense, just a lot of desperate, pointless excuses that probably made her look even more pathetic.
And you just stood there, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read—somewhere between shocked and neutral.
The silence between you seemed to stretch on, making her rambling feel even more pointless, like each second of quiet only added weight to her mess of words.
Tara could feel her face heating up, and all she wanted was to take everything back, to make it sound right somehow—but she didn't even know what "right" would be.
Her fingers tightened around her wrist, her gaze dropping back to her worn out converses as the silence thickened around her. Part of her wanted to shrink back, to stop talking altogether, but she'd already put too much out there to turn back now.
So when you didn't answer, she continued.
"I... I want to do better," she said, each word a little slower, like she was searching for the strength to actually mean it. Her eyes barely lifted to meet yours, as if waiting for something—anything—that might tell her it wasn't too late.
Your hand, which had been holding the door open this whole time, finally slipped away. You clapped both hands against the sides of your thighs, the sound breaking the quiet between you two.
Then, with a tone that was almost unreadable, you asked, "Is that it?"
Tara's face fell slightly when your words cut through the silence. She searched your expression, looking for something—anything—that hinted at forgiveness, but the steady way you looked back at her made her stomach drop.
Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.
"So... you don't forgive me?"
Tara looked up at you, her eyes wide and glistening, almost like a puppy's, searching for any hint of understanding. It was a look she hadn't meant to put on, but somehow it found its way back to her face, a reflex from childhood.
She remembered using those same eyes when she'd gotten into trouble with her mom or when Sam wouldn't let her hang out with her friends. Back then, she'd wielded them like a weapon, a last-ditch effort to melt hearts and earn forgiveness.
Now, though, it felt different.
There was no intent behind it, just a genuine plea for empathy that made her feel exposed, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her as she realized how desperate she must look.
You took a breath before responding, your gaze steady but distant. "I do.. but I don't see why that matters because it'll all happen again." You said slowly, weighing each word.
Tara felt her heart sink at your words, the reality of what you said hitting her hard. She knew all too well how it felt to be caught in that cycle—Amber had done the same to her, repeatedly promising change only to slip back into old patterns.
It was frustrating and disheartening, and in that moment, she understood where you were coming from.
She took a shaky breath, trying to find her voice. "It won't... I promise it won't." Her tone was earnest, filled with a desperate need to be believed, to convince you that this time would be different.
Tara searched your expression, and as your words echoed in her mind—you did accept her apology—a flicker of hope ignited within her. It felt like a delicate promise written in cursive, intricate yet fragile, and she couldn't help but cling to it.
She tried to muster a soft smile, though it felt tentative, as if it might shatter under the weight of everything left unsaid.
"Can we... do you think that maybe we can try again?" The words tumbled out, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and determination. It was a fragile request, a chance she hoped wouldn't be met with rejection.
She could see the flicker of thoughts crossing your face. Your brow furrowed slightly, and she sensed the hesitation lingering in the air between you. It was as if you were weighing her words, measuring the sincerity of her apology against the weight of the past.
She couldn't tell if you were considering her request or if doubt still lingered in your mind.
It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for a sign, desperately hoping that you would choose to leap with her this time.
After a long pause, a small, soft smile crept up on your face, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit. You finally met her gaze, and the warmth in your eyes hinted at something Tara had been longing to see.
"Sure... yeah, I'd like that," you said, your voice gentle but firm, like a lifeline tossed her way.
Tara let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her shoulders eased slightly at your response, something softening in her expression as she processed your words. It wasn't a promise, but it felt real enough.
A quiet acknowledgment that maybe this could lead somewhere different.
She looked at you for a moment longer, managing a small, uncertain smile as if not entirely sure this chance would hold but willing to take it anyway.
The silence lingered, weighty but almost comfortable. Tara held your gaze, her expression softening just a bit as she let herself settle into the quiet, not wanting to push any further. When she finally managed a small smile, it was tentative, as if she was holding onto it carefully.
"Guess I'll... see you around?" she asked, her voice a quiet murmur, like she wasn't entirely certain if she should even say it.
You gave a slight nod, already moving to close the door. The subtle acknowledgment was enough to let her feel that maybe, just maybe, things could shift—if only a little.
She shifted slightly, like she wanted to say something more but couldn't quite find the words. A small, unsure smile crossed her face as she looked up at you again, her voice softer.
With that, Tara turned to go, casting one last look back at you before turning around to walk away.
___
The next week, Tara's phone buzzed on her nightstand, pulling her from a the books scattered all over her bed.
She squinted at the screen, hoping to see your name lighting up, a sign that things were finally moving forward between you two.
Maybe it was about the plans you'd casually mentioned — plans that did not include Tara bringing out her frustrations in bed with you.
Instead, her heart sank a little as Amber's name flashed across the screen.
u free this friday?
For the first time, Tara felt a surprising clarity wash over her as she read the message. She didn't hesitate, knowing exactly how she wanted to respond without second-guessing herself.
In the past, she'd tiptoed around her replies, always afraid that Amber would judge her for whatever she said.
But now, after everything with you, she was certain of what she wanted. This time, there was no uncertainty clouding her thoughts. So, after a moment, she typed a quick reply.
im actually busy, sorry
With a breath of relief, she hit send and immediately blocked Amber's number. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
This time, she wouldn't be waiting for Amber's text, for promises that never changed anything.
She knew what she had now—this newfound sense of clarity—and what she wanted. And that was enough.
This was how it would stay.
#jenna ortega x reader#mabel x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#vada cavell x reader#wednesday addams x reader#melissa barrera x reader#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x reader#amber freeman#mikey madison#tamber
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ghostface always doing something
#scream#scream 1996#scream franchise#scream movie#ghostface#slashers#stu macher#billy loomis#mickey altieri#mrs loomis#roman bridger#jill roberts#amber freeman#richie kirsch#ethan landry#quinn bailey#wayne bailey#sidney prescott#tatum riley#randy meeks#casey becker#cici cooper#olivia morris#kirby reed#mindy meeks martin#chad meeks martin#liv mckenzie#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#wes hicks
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George Mackay as 'Preston' FEMME (2023) | dir(s). Sam H. Freeman, Ng Choon Ping
#george mackay#femme 2023#femme#sam freeman#ng choon ping#film#movies#filmedit#queer#lgbt#gay#queer media#queer characters#beautiful men
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Basic Instinct #2 by Vanesa Del Rey and Sam Freeman. Covers by (1) BRÄO, (2) Alberto Massaggia and (3) Del Rey. Out in December.
"Flesh seduces. Passion kills. After Ezra Coenho's opening night of 'Pound of Flesh' is soiled by the gored body of a security guard and subsequently being questioned by Detective Kivoni, Ezra sets out to clear his name. Recognizing the parallels between the artist and infamous author, Catherine Tramell, Coenho seeks Tramell out, who just so happens to be a new resident of Miami, herself…"
#basic instinct#catherine tramell#sumerian comics#massive publishing#vanesa del rey#vanesa r. del rey#sam freeman#bräo#alberto massaggia#variant cover#comics
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GHOSTFACE REVEALS in the Scream Franchise
+ bonus
#billy loomis#stu macher#mickey altieri#nancy loomis#roman bridger#jill roberts#charlie walker#amber freeman#richie kirsch#detective bailey#wayne bailey#ethan landry#quinn bailey#sidney prescott#sam carpenter#scream#scream franchise#scream movies#horroredit#filmgifs#filmedit#filmtvcentral#dailyfilmsource#dailyflicks#cinemapix#cinematv#usersource#userfilm#filmtvdaily#tw blood
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lotr bts
He looks so done
Omygosh frodo you're an amazing artist
THAT IS NOT SEAN BEAN I REPETE THAT IS NOT SEAN BEAN (ik it's a double but whatever)
Honestly my favorite eowyn look
Moments before disaster
Yea you've probably seen this one before but I freaking love it
You can't be in lotr without sunglasses
Pippin and frodo my darlings
*screeching* wheresss my umbrellaaaa
And yes I know it's not lotr but I just thought "Martin is so weird and I love him for it"
#lotr#lord of the rings#Lotr bts#Bts#boromir#tfotr#two towers#Eowyn#Martin freeman#The hobbit#The hobbit bts#theoden#Pippin#Frodo#pippin took#rip bernard hill#ringwraiths#Umbrella#Sam#Not sean#Sean bean#Sean Astin#Sunglasses#Legoland#orlando bloom#Deagol#smeagol#andy serkis#elijah wood#bernard hill
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Out this week: Hound (Mad Cave Studios, $19.99):
Sam Freeman, Sam Romesburg and Rodrigo Vazquez are the creative team for this horror graphic novel about a World War I soldier assigned to a company that has formed a dangerous, deadly cult.
See what other comics and graphic novels will arrive in stores this week!
#graphic novels#new comic book day#ncbd#new comics day#new comics#hound#mad cave studios#sam freeman#sam romesburg#rodrigo vazquez
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