#she seemed to like that about him. that he could believe in a cause

[bluemantics]

JULANCE DAY 1: GARRISON

“Oh, Lance, you look so tired! And pale. Are you getting time outside, or do they hide you in metal rooms away from the light? You need sun, and rest!”

“Ma—“

“We have paid for you to go to a fancy pilot school! They should be treating you better. I’ll talk to the teachers.”

“I got scholarship—“

“They better not be feeding you slop!”

“Mama, stop!”

A pause settled over the small dorm room, finally giving Lance space to breathe. He sighed, letting his back slope and blinking back the exhaustion that threatened to consume his whole body. Overhead, LED lighting washed out his skin, the effect only enhanced by the shitty camera on his tablet. He leaned back in his desk chair after a moment, embarrassed to have snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he began, apologetically looking away from Maria McClain’s expectant face hovering onscreen. I’m having a great time, Mama.”

The words tasted like a lie.

“Good. I just worry because I love you,” she reminded him, her smile lines tugging into a slight frown. God, Lance hated to see that expression on her face. He mustered up his best plastered-on smile for her benefit.

“Seriously! I’m eating great food. Lots of friends, but it’s only week one, so who knows what’ll happen? And I’m learning loads. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Okay,” his mom relented, voice quieter. “I miss you. Please call again soon, we all would like it.”

“Even Rachel?” Lance teased.

“Especially Rachel,” she laughed. “Te quiero mucho, hijo.”

“Te quiero,” Lance replied, leaping to end the call. Finally met with a blank, dark screen, he threw his head back and groaned.

A face appeared over his, blinking down at him curiously.

“Gah!” Lance reeled forward in shock, which was a mistake, as it led to him banging his forehead against the other boy’s.

“Ow!” They both shouted in unison. Scrunching his face, Lance rubbed at his forehead and glared at the offender. “Hunk, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Hunk blurted, his lip trembling as he gingerly poked at what would likely become a bruise. “I was just listening— well, that sounds creepy, I’m not a stalker! I promise! It’s hard to believe me ‘cause we’ve only known each other a week, I bet. Just, y’know, I could hear from my bed and I get how it is when moms worry— I have two of them, they worry lots. And I was just wondering why, if you don’t mind—“

“Spit it out, man!” Lance huffed, crossing his arms. Honestly, he hadn’t talked to his roommate, Hunk Garrett, much since they’d started at the Garrison. He hadn’t talked to anyone, really.

It had only been a single week since classes began and Lance had moved into the dorms. In that time, he’d tried his best to make a few connections. Even though they all started at the same time, Lance felt like everyone already had a clique. No one was outright rude to him, save James Griffin (who had actually turned around when Lance introduced himself). Still, he’d been unable to get past a simple “where are you from?”

Anxiety held Lance tight in its clutches without a person to lean on. He hadn’t even had the chance to get to know Hunk because of their alternate orientation schedules, separated by engineer and pilot classes. After the first three days of constantly being kept busy, it just became too awkward for Lance to feel like reintroducing himself. He wasn’t new to sharing a space, but it definitely seemed like Hunk was nervous about it, with the way he ran to the bathrooms to change.

Lance decided he wouldn’t judge Hunk, despite the odd behavior. The Garrison was nothing like the comforts of home, and everything felt strange. Maybe he was an only child.

Now, though, after a week of quietly shuffling around each other, this interruption was very, very strange.

“Why did you lie to your mom?”

Lance blinked at his roommate. He wasn’t expecting that question. “I didn’t lie.”

“You did, though,” Hunk pressed, shifting his weight and looking away from Lance. He twisted his hands. “You said you have a lot of friends.”

“Okay, wow, that’s rude.” Lance blinked, taken off guard.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Hunk quickly changed course. “I’m in the same boat! I… just saw you sitting alone at lunch today. I didn’t realize we have the same lunch, and, um, I’m really, really sick of eating alone.”

A pang struck through Lance’s chest. He connected deeply to that sentiment, even if he was ashamed to be caught in his lies. “Oh, uh, okay.”

“Look, my moms are freaked out about this school. I had to twist arms to get here. I really, really don’t want them to get even more upset if they figure out I’m eating alone,” he rambled, now looking at Lance directly. “We could eat together? Maybe? You could also tell your mom.”

“Yeah! Yeah, okay,” Lance tried to cover up his eagerness, crossing his arms and attempting a nonplussed facade. “Sounds… cool.”

“Cool!” Hunk beamed, sticking out his hand. “Shake on it?”

“You’re funny, Hunk,” Lance decided, shaking his hand with a small, lopsided smile. “It’s a deal.”

Hunk’s hand fit warmly around Lance’s, and something clicked.

“So.” Hunk beamed while he fidgeted with the hem of his uniform. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Garlic knots.”

“Oh, man! We’re totally gonna be friends.”

“Because of garlic knots?”

“Absolutely because of garlic knots.”

The next night, when they had garlic and oil smeared across their hands under the harsh lights in the restricted kitchens, Lance discovered that Hunk was right, and maybe always would be.

[i-sveikata]

okay but why is nobody talking about the fact that wu suo wei is wearing the exact same sweatshirt in ep5 when chi cheng comes to his house and meets his mother as he did in ep1 when he wanted his horrible ex gf yue yue to meet her??? and back then she insulted him for how he looked, saying she was ashamed of him etc etc because he was sweating and unshaven and also trying to make the audience (not very convincingly) believe he was chubby which somehow made him unworthy and left suo wei desperately promising he would change for her just so that she wouldnt dump him.

but then we;ve got chi cheng who literally is from a similar social level as her (likely higher because i think he's way richer which is why she's latching on so tightly and trying to cosy up with his family) and somehow chi cheng still had the better manners to sit down at their house, share a meal with suo wei's mother and compliment her cooking before sending gifts the next day???? like forever loving the parallels there because suo wei didnt have to dress different for that to work out like it should have worked out with yue yue!!!

and tbh id argue his appearance in the ep1 leans more towards suo wei being depressed (i.e. not making much effort of maintaining his appearance) because he was in a relationship where he constantly felt unworthy or got berated for simply existing and trying to make that work rather than like a sudden glow up of personality for how he is later with chi cheng. to me it seems like suo wei is being himself with chi cheng more than he ever was with yue yue because he could only ever be sweet with her and nothing else- even if the self he's exploring now is being a little revenge gremlin set on playing 4d chess with chi cheng and immensely enjoying focusing that intense energy on him whilst also working out some horny frustrations along the way. like that still feels like a much more truthful read of suo wei's personality.

idk how else to explain but it feels like such a pointed parallel between yue yue and chi cheng and their treatment of suo wei and honestly im frothing at the mouth over it. cause like chi cheng nailed that first parent meeting and still wanted to nail suo wei after no matter what he was wearing. and even with how manipulative and clever suo wei is being plotting his way through the whole situation there has to be a small part of him that's putting those pieces together too and making the comparison between his ex and chi cheng and i for one think thats delicious

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 17 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: mentions of death and murder

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

The Mirrorblood Purge (Late 1300s - Early 1500s)

The Ægyrin once served supernatural courts as healers, guardians, and emotional arbiters. They were considered sacred due to their ability to prevent war and madness through connection and clarity.

This sacredness, however, led to fear, which caused rumors to spread. Ægyrin could control minds. Ægyrin could manipulate rulers. Ægyrin could not be left alive.

A secret order known as the Pallid Veil began systematically hunting Ægyrin across Europe. By 1511, they were believed to be extinct.

Some ghost stories and fairytales still refer to them as gold-blooded spirits. Among other outcasts, however, they’re considered a myth or a metaphor for empathy itself.  

The Pallid Veil

The Pallid Veil began as a secret order formed by witches, vampires, werewolves, humans and other outcasts. United by fear of the Ægiryn’s emotional powers, they saught to contain what they didn’t understand. What began as containment quickly turned into eradicationt though. As history shifted, so did the Veil. 

During the rise of the Puritan movement, the pilgrims overtook the Pallid Veil, transforming it into something far more extreme. No longer satisfied with hunting Ægiryn alone, the new leadership turned on the very outcasts who founded it.

Witches, vampires, and other magical bloodlines were now branded as threats. The order had become a weapon of purity through annihilation.

I close the notebook and blink back tears, remembering what Wednesday told me about her vision and the young Ægiryn boy. He sacrificed the last of his powers to free Goody and then stayed behind in the old meeting house, burning alongside his sister and the other outcasts.

He died, alongside all the others for just existing, and to make matters even worse, Crackstone stole his ring and wore it around his neck like a trophy.

It makes me physically sick thinking about it, and the prospect of Crackstone or the Pallid Veil returning makes my stomach clench painfully. Out of all outcasts, I’ll be hunted down first if it ever comes out what I am.  

A tapping on my window makes me look up, and I can’t help but roll my eyes in amusement when I see Thing perched on the windowsill outside.

I shuffle off my bed and put the notebook on my nightstand, crossing the room to open the window for him. A night breeze wafts in and I’m quick to close it again once he’s inside.

“I see you’re still averse to coming in through the door,” I state which makes him flip me off. “Everything okay?” I ask when he flops down on one of the pillows of the window seat.

Not really, he signs, elaborating when I raise an eyebrow. The mayor’s been run over and Wednesday was almost expelled.

My jaw drops. How does this stuff keep happening? First she’s arrested for grave robbing, and now this. 

“Excuse me?!” I take a seat next to him and wave for him to go on.

Wednesday and I went to the Gate’s mansion earlier to investigate it since Wednesday had a vision about it at Crackstone’s crypt last night.

I shoot him a disapproving look for going without me, but he ignores it. I was planning on attending Wednesday’s party last night, too, after all, Enid had invited me. But Weem’s roped me into helping Thornhill feed her carnivorous plants. I have a feeling she only did it to keep an eye on me since she seems to have a sixth sense for Wednesday being up to no good and me jumping to help every time. I didn’t dare to bring up the fact that she’s a shapeshifter and up to no good herself, since I want to see how far she’s willing to go before I confront her about it…

Wednesday and I didn’t share any classes today, so I only saw her during breakfast, which was spent in comfortable silence. Well, she and I were silent. Enid kept talking about the latest song her favorite band released while Yoko and Ajax chimed in every now and then. 

I was actually expecting to see her at dinner earlier, but she wasn’t there. Apparently because she was out and about again, and on scene when the mayor was run over for some reason.

“So?” I prompt. “What happened? Is Mayor Walker dead?”

No, but someone wants him dead, that’s for sure, Thing taps. As I said, we were investigating the mansion because Wednesday has a feeling it has something to do with Goody and Crackstone, but then Walker showed up.

That makes me raise an eyebrow, but I stay silent so Thing can go on.

It seemed like he was investigating something himself. He called the sheriff, but Galpin didn’t pick up, so Walker left him a voicemail, saying he thought he knew who was behind all this and that he wanted to meet at the Weathervane to discuss his theory.

The attacks… 

Walker knows something. And so does the Sheriff and Weems. Walker was about to expose whoever is behind all the attacks, but he was run over just before he could. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

“Well, shit…” I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, not even sure I want the answer to my next question. “So, how did Wednesday end up almost getting expelled? Was she caught at the Gates’ mansion?”

No. Thing hesitates before tapping. She hid in the trunk of Walker’s car and witnessed him being run over right in front of the Sheriff who called Weems and had Wednesday picked up.

“I…” I don’t even know what to say. All I can do is let out a huff that is half exasperated, half amused. 

Of course Wednesday would do something like that. And even though it’s frustrating, deep down, it’s more scary than anything because something could have happened to her.

“ I’m guessing she’s grounded now?”

Very much so, Thing signs which actually makes me let out a snort of laughter.

“Yeah, I figured… So, what brings you here?” I ask. I lean back and grab one of the throw pillows, hugging it to my chest.

The soulbond.

I freeze. “Right.”

Thing moves closer and taps my knee in what I’m assuming is supposed to be a consoling way. You’re bonded to Wednesday.

Wow, okay. So we’re talking about this.

“I know,” I admit. I’ve known for some time now, but this is the first time I’m admitting it out loud. It scares me because I have no idea what it means for me or Wednesday, and I know if she knew she’d probably push me away. Not because I did anything wrong, but because from what I know about her, I figure she’s not a fan of destiny or anything alike.

I’ve been meaning to talk to Thing for a while now because there’s no part in the book about the soulbond, but until now, I didn’t get the chance. I have to admit that despite my curiosity I also kept pushing it back because I was afraid of what he might reveal.

Do you know what that means? He asks.

I shake my head and avert my eyes, feeling my ears heat up at the image of Wednesday that comes to mind– her after we ran into the monster at the old meeting house.

It was the first time I realized how human she actually is under the cold mask she always wears, but more than that, it was the first time I really saw her.

I still think about the way her wet bangs clung to her forehead and how her dark eyes shone with actual worry when she saw I’d gotten hurt. I also think about the way a raindrop trailed down the bridge of her freckled nose and over her lips.

Her lips…

I clear my throat and blink rapidly. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like that even though my infatuation still persists, I can’t be thinking about her like this. There’s too much at stake. For once, there’s our re-kindled, but still weak companionship. For another, both our lives are literally at risk. A small part of me is also afraid of getting hurt again, but I suffocate that thought as soon as it hits me.

Remembering Thing asked me something, I straighten up and shake my head. “No, I have no idea.”

Thing takes a moment before answering, probably knowing where I just went mentally.  The soulbond is a dangerous thing in more ways than you think, he taps. It makes an Ægiryn stronger, faster, and heightens their senses. It also strengthens their Heartstill and healing abilities. But it also makes them vulnerable if they’re not careful.  

So that’s why I was bleeding after my hand got caught on that nail at the old meeting house– the soul bond was acting up. Or was it manifesting? 

I shake my head and ask, “Wait, so the soulbond has always been there? I just didn’t know about it until I actually met Wednesday?”

Yes.

“But… What if we’d never met?”

Thing taps against my knee, You would have spent the rest of your life like anyone else. You wouldn’t have missed anything. Once an Ægiryn meets the person they’re bonded to though, they know instantly. Maybe not consciously, but their body would definitely know.

I think back to the day I saw Wednesday in the Quad for the first time and a chill runs up my spine when I realize seeing her made something in me snap. I felt it when our eyes connected, and until now I couldn't put a name to what I was feeling. This whole soulbond revelation also explains why I keep hearing her heartbeat…

“What else is there to it? Does she feel anything because of the bond?” I ask quietly. I’m too scared to ask if she could refuse the bond if she found out about it and didn’t want it, and if it would hurt me in some way.  

The bond makes you more attune to her emotions. It probably makes you feel them more than others’ as well. As for if she can feel anything, he signs, crawling onto my knee when he notices how still I’ve gone, There’s not much known about what the person bonded to an Ægiryn feels or doesn’t feel since most Ægiryn throughout history didn’t actually meet their person. 

The fact that Thing doesn’t know if Wednesday feels something of the bond unnerves me a little, but so far she hasn’t acted like she does. Which is good… I think? Because if she doesn’t know, there’s no chance of her pushing me away because of it. But if she does and she’s just not saying anything because she’s not sure what it means… Is that a good sign?

No. No. No. This is not the time, Y/N.

“Can the bond be undone?” I ask.

No.

I don’t know how to feel about that, so I avert my eyes and stare at the floor. There’s too much going through my mind for me to think clearly, which is something Thing must pick up on because he taps my knee again.

You should get some sleep. 

I nod, even though I know sleep won’t come easy. I get up and open the window again so Thing can slip back out.

Before he leaves though he turns and signs, I’m sorry again for what happened at the Rave’N. I shouldn’t have meddled.

A warm feeling of affection spreads in the pit of my stomach. I know now that he only meant well and after all, he’s only partly to blame for what happened, so I dip my chin in acknowledgement. “It’s okay, but thank you for apologizing again. And thank you for coming to talk to me.”

Thing curtsies, and then he’s off, sliding down the drainpipe. I watch him vanish into the darkness before closing the window again and sliding into bed after turning off all the lights.

I knock on Wednesday’s and Enid’s door, waiting for a moment before Wednesday exclaims, “Be right there!”

I shift nervously, not over what Thing told me about the soul bond last night. I really want to know if Wednesday feels it too, or if it’s just me, but I’m not going to ask. Not only because I’m afraid of the answer if she does, but also because if she doesn’t, it would just reveal that the bond exists in the first place.

The door swings open to reveal a slightly breathless Wednesday. She’s dressed in that black and white checkered sweater of hers, with a cropped, black puffer vest over it, a pair of wide black slacks that reach her ankles and black boots. It’s in typical Wednesday fashion, unlike the knitted black and white scarf she has around her neck. It’s way too big and looks a little out of place around her neck.

“Don’t,” she warns when she sees how my eyes get caught on it and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to suppress a smile.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Her dark eyes meet mine and even though she’s glaring at me, her eyes are softer than usual. “But you were thinking something, and before you say anything else it was a gift from Enid. She made it herself… Calls it a snood.”

She says that last part reluctantly, almost as if the word snood causes her physical pain, and I can’t help but chuckle softly.

Who knew Wednesday Addams could be this soft. I mean, wearing a scarf your roommate knitted for you even though you’d rather set it on fire? That’s some softy behavior right there and I hate to admit that it makes my stomach flutter and my eyes dart to her lips momentarily.

“Well, it’s cute,” I say with a tiny smile before I realize where I’m looking. I quickly avert my eyes and pull a little wrapped box out of my jacket pocket. “Speaking of gifts, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your party.”

I hand her the box and she takes it with a spark of curiosity lighting up  her eyes. Her fingers drift over the black wrapping paper which matches her manicured nails, and she turns it over before looking back at me.

“You got me a gift?” 

I hate how I can’t tell what she thinks because her voice lacks its usual sharpness.

“Uh, yeah. Figured it would come in handy,” I say, feeling my ears turning red. I gesture for her to open it and she does. She uses her nail to meticulously peel off each piece of tape before unfolding the wrapping paper from around the plain cardboard box.

She folds the wrapping paper and stuffs it into her jacket pocket and then opens the box. “You got me pocket mace? Seriously?”

I smile sheepishly and don’t meet her eyes when she takes it out of the box to inspect it. “I mean, yeah. I figured you’d not be into glittering jewelry or tickets to a k-pop concert.”

She actually huffs out a laugh at that and when I look up there’s a tiny smile playing on her lips. I also hear her heartbeat stutter for a moment which gives me all the confirmation I need. She likes it.

“Thank you.” 

I gape at her and tease, “Did you just say thank you?”

“Shut up before I use this on you,” she says, back to glaring and pointing the mace at me. 

I laugh it off and push her hand holding the mace down, feeling sparks shoot through my fingers where they touch her skin.. “No need for that. Let’s just go before anyone catches us.”

She sets the empty cardboard box down on the dresser next to the door and slips the mace into her pocket before gesturing for me to lead the way.

She managed to rope me into investigating the Gates mansion again since I confronted her about going alone yesterday, so here I am now, setting off to go investigate an old creepy mansion. It’s almost nine, and curfew is at ten, but I doubt we’ll make it back in time, so I’ll have to think of a way to sneak back in, and not just out.

I’m scared of all the things that could go wrong, especially with my vulnerability, which can be seemingly triggered every time I’m around her now, but I know if I don’t go with her, she’ll go alone or make Enid go with her.

Yeah, no. I can’t let that happen. Not her going alone or Enid going with her. That poor girl has been through enough and as far as I’m concerned, she’s having a date night with Ajax tonight.

“What about Thing?” I ask when we make it through the school unseen, sneaking out through one of the back exits.

“He’s not coming with us,” Wednesday replies and I don’t ask why since he’d probably just be another person, or well, thing, we’d have to look out for in case things go sideways.

We round the corner by the school’s wooden shack and Wednesday asks how we’re going to get to the Gates’ mansion since it’s too far to walk, and I just grin awkwardly and step out of her eyeline to reveal an old bicycle leaned against the side of the shack. 

“Absolutely not.” She goes to turn away but I grab her sleeve.

“No, please. I promise it will be fine,” I plead. “I know you probably thought I was going to steal Weems’ car or something, but that’s just crazy. This is way less risky and it’s quiet. Besides, it won’t be much longer than a car ride. I’m a strong peddler.” 

Wednesday works her jaw, and her eyes keep flickering between me and the bike before closing her eyes and giving in with a sigh. 

“Fine,” she says through gritted teeth.

I grin and grab the bike, swinging my leg over it before eyeing Wednesday expectantly. 

Her nose wrinkles in disgust, but she approaches with small steps, saying, “If we crash, I’m making you use the mace on yourself.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re not going to crash. Stop being so dramatic and just get on.”

She grumbles but doesn’t say anything else and climbs onto the rear rack. My entire nervous system goes into overdrive when she wraps her arms around my waist from behind, and I have to swallow thickly before saying, “Okay, here we go.”

I kick off the ground and start peddling, feeling my heart race at the feeling of Wednesday’s surprisingly warm body pressed against my back. Her fingers are curled into the fabric of my jacket and every time there’s a tiny bump in the road, her grip tightens and I hear her breath stutter slightly.

It’s cold and the only reason I know where I’m going is because of the old flickering lamp attached to the front of the bike, illuminating the empty forest street in front of us.

“You okay back there?” I check after a couple minutes of silence, the only sounds being the forest around us and the tires on the road.

“I’m fine,” Wednesday mumbles, quiet and not at all snippy, which is surprising. Even more surprising though is how she tightens her hold around me and buries her hands in the pockets of my jacket. It’s cold and she’s not wearing any gloves, so I get why she’s doing it, but this is closer than we’ve ever purposefully been which is making my heart do somersaults.

I don’t say anything else and just continue peddling, tapping a little into my super strength when we ride up the windy road that leads to the Gates mansion a couple minutes later.

I come to a soft stop in front of the locked gate, and put my foot down so we don’t tip over. “Alright. This is it.”

Wednesday lets go of me and gets off the bike, making me feel cold immediately where she was just pressed against my back.

She moves past me with a flashlight to pick the pad lock on the chains around the gate, and I catch a glimpse of her swallowing thickly before deadpanning, “You managed not to run us off the road.”

“Told you we’d be fine,” I snark back, although there’s no hint of malice in my voice.

Wednesday rolls her eyes and finishes picking the lock while I shove the bike into the bushes next to the gate.

We walk up the old gravel road with the mansion looming above us in the moonlight. It’s very creepy and the sight makes a chill run down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold or Wednesday.

“I don’t like this,” I mumble, getting a bad feeling about this place.

Wednesday just hums, not in agreement or disagreement, just in acknowledgement  before grabbing the handle of the garage door and trying to pry it open.  It doesn’t budge though, so despite wanting to turn right back around and leave again, I step up to her and say, “Here, let me.”

I grab the handle and pull on it tentatively. It doesn’t move, so without further ado I exhale sharply and pull on it with such force, one of the hinges comes off before it swings open.

I hear Wednesday’s heart skip a beat, probably from the suddenness of my movement, but I don’t comment on it. I just smile sheepishly when I turn around and find her already looking at me. It could be the chill in the air, or maybe the angle of the flashlight, but for a split second, I swear her cheeks aren’t as pale as usual. 

She quickly averts her eyes and mumbles a thank you– the second one of tonight– and brushes past me, stepping into the garage.

I follow and pull out my own flashlight, coughing slightly at the dust floating around in the air.

There’s a car, covered by a tarp to our right, but I don’t pay it any attention, letting the beam of my flashlight roam over the shelves of the garage instead. 

That is until I hear some shuffling behind me and then a breathless, “This is the car that hit the mayor.”

I whirl around to see Wednesday has pulled the tarp off the car. “Holy shit.” 

This is the confirmation that the Gates mansion is connected to everything. Before I can say anything else, Wednesday makes her way inside the house and I follow her, keeping my senses peeled for any sign we might not be alone.

The house is messy, like it was just abandoned one day,  and everything’s covered in a thick layer of dust. It doesn’t stop Wednesday though, who roams around the ground floor with me following close behind.

I don’t know what she’s looking for, but when she comes to a stop in front of a wall lined with bookshelves in the sitting room, I spot what catches her attention before she says, “Do you see that?”

“Mhmm.” I move forward and graze my fingers over a dust free wooden panel, decorating one of the vertical support beams of the bookshelf. I feel some leeway when I push against it, so I push harder.

There’s a click and some mechanical whirring and I back up to stand next to Wednesday again and watch as one section of the bookshelf moves backward and then to the left, vanishing behind the rest of the bookshelf and revealing a hole in the wall. 

“That’s a totally normal thing to have in your house,” I say with an incredulous snort, however when the beam of my flashlight illuminates what was hidden behind the bookshelf, I instantly sober up.

It’s a shrine, with a bunch of burned down candles, dried flowers, and burnt incense underneath a huge portrait of Joseph Crackstone. Written next to the portrait on the wooden paneling on the wall in blood red ink are the words, Blood Will Rain When I Rise.

It reminds me of what was burned into the school’s front lawn, Fire Will Rain, and it makes my hairs stand on end. 

What’s even worse than this obvious shrine of worship though is the fact that in the portrait, I see the glint of something peeking out from beneath the collar of Crackstone’s shirt.

I step closer, Wednesday following silently, and bite the inside of my cheek when I realize it’s supposed to be the ring Crackstone stole from the Ægiryn boy that died in the old meeting house fire.

That sick–

“They’re still warm,” Wednesday says, a trace of alarm weaving into her voice, which makes me spin around.

“What?”

“The candles,” she says, showing me the tip of her finger where I see a thin sheen of wax which must have rubbed off when she touched the candle. 

Someone was here. Recently. And it’s just a matter of time before they return. Or worse, what if they never left? 

“We should go,” I say, but Wednesday shakes her head. 

“We still have to check upstairs,” she says.

I want to object, but I know it’s worthless, so I say, “Fine, but let’s make it quick.”

Wednesday leads the way upstairs and I follow, suddenly feeling like we’re being watched even though my ears are not picking up on anyone else being nearby.

We sweep the master bedroom, and Garret Gates’ old room, but there’s nothing there other than the dust covered remnants of a family that once lived here. But then, we make it to the last room down the hall, and it’s nothing like the rest of the room. 

It’s completely dust free and clean. The bed has been made and there’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the nightstand next to the bed. 

Those flowers…

I take a closer look at them and frown, touching one of the rose petals before it hits me why they look familiar. “Wednesday. Look at this.”

Wednesday is next to me in an instant and she looks at the flowers too before her eyes meet mine with a knowing glint.

They’re the same type of rose Doctor Kinbott brought Eugene the other day. 

“Do you think–?” I start but Wednesday’s already brushing past me to inspect a  wooden music box on the dresser next to the door. 

I turn and watch her run her finger over golden initials painted  on the side of it. LG.

“Laurel Gates,” she whispers.

I go to say something, but then there’s a crash from downstairs and I whirl around, suddenly overwhelmed by a familiar emotional buzz in the air. Fury. Anger. Animalistic.

It’s the monster.

“Shit. Run!” 

I grab Wednesday’s arm without thinking, and shove her toward the door.

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

Not proofread yet.

Hope you guys liked it. Thanks for being so patient. Don't know when I'll be able to write the next part but I'll try to do it within the next week or two <3

Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97 @hellenheaven @iwshemj2 @jizzuo308 @trashcannotbealive @gloriousvariant @brocoliisscared @1863rdorv-reader @fck-this-name @iamprodigious

[tobeafangirl]

rebel with a cause

Words: 8,866 Rating: M | smut (oral (mtf), protected sex) fluff (pining/golden retriever/lover boy) angst (minor angst, mostly passive aggressive, cheating) Type: Harry Styles x Reader ❀ Masterlist ❀ Requests ❀ Taglist ❀

He sat in the headmaster’s office holding a bag of ice to his knuckles. He hated this, this is not like him. He doesn't fight. He can barely hold his own. But her? She made all the rules sound fucking stupid and he would break them all for her.

Worst part is, she's standing out there looking at him like she's thankful for something he did for her. Yeah, he did it for her and he would have told the world that if she wanted him to. 

Because sure, they’ve never really talked and he sounds like a borderline obsessed freak but there has just always been this thing between them. Sure, it was unspoken but it was electric. And he  knew she felt it too. He could tell by the way she looked at him. It drove him crazy. He didn't think he had ever craved someone on every level until he met her. 

He don't know if he love her, but if this is what love feels like. he will’ll fucking take it, and he will keep it forever.

His leg was bouncing like it was being paid to do so and he just really wanted to leave. “Hey do you think you can give me my detention or whatever the fuck and let me go?” He leaned forward toward the secretary, his brow raising as she huffed. “Styles! We will not tolerate that language!”

He winced. Absolute gobshite. “So sorry, yeah, right. So, can I go?” He pointed in the direction he saw her. He just wanted to walk past her, that’s all. Hold his head up. Took a hit for her, didn’t he? “Not until you speak to the headmaster!” Oh, right. That. 

Just then, like magic, she entered the room with said headmaster. He looked pissed and she held a smile that looked nearly apologetic. He wanted to reach out and tell her there was nothing to be sorry for. He did what he did. Whatever.

“Right. Ms. Robinson. Seems like here that Miss Y/LN says that Mister Styles was defending her honor and therefore would like for him to be dismissed.” The headmaster said in a rush or breath, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Hell. Him either. He looked directly at Y/N and she gave another small smile. 

He had no idea why she got him off the hook but you bet your sweet arse he was about to thank her for it. In any way she seemed fit. Harry smiled at Miss Robinson and she begrudgingly dismissed him. Harry walked out of the office, tugging his jacket on tighter as if showing off, offering a polite smile to Y/N. He saw the corners of her mouth twitch. Cheeky. He knew she had a bit of a dark side. 

Harry also waited outside the office. Just for that pretty face. About ten minutes later there it was, coming out of the office and stopping in her tracks as soon as she saw him. A brief roll of her eyes and she started to walk down the hallway. He caught up with her quickly, smirk plastered. From a distance she're stunning, up close? A fucking daydream.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” He said smoothly, eyes on her. She hummed in response. Hard to get. That was fine, he was pretty good at the waiting game. Well, sometimes. 

“What do you say I thank you properly? Take you to dinner?” It made her smile, even if it was small and accompanied with an eye roll. “Harry, thank you for what you did. You didn't have to do that but I'm sorry–I can't.”

Right. Because the twat was still her boyfriend. Why wouldn’t she break up with someone who was a total piece of shit and treated her like crap? Harry would never understand why he had such a hold on her, but he pushed it aside, a lopsided smile gracing his face. “Offer will still stand if you ever change your mind.”

She smiled, and Harry could swear that her smile could cure almost anything. But then she walked away and his smile faded into nothing. Then, like clockwork, he heard the laughter behind him. Harry turned his head with the most pissed off look he could muster and there he was:

Zayn.

Laughing his arse off at his failed attempt with her, yet again. “Give it up mate, she’ll have a restraining order by Tuesday.” It was Monday. “I will never give up on love.” He says dramatically, slapping his hand over his chest. All the theatrics, the things Harry does for Zayn. He rolled his eyes at him, acting annoyed. Harry knew he loved him. Been mates for too long for him not to. 

He could have bailed on him plenty of times and yet here we are. Practically sharing a locker and sometimes a bedroom. Some days we were brothers, others? We bickered like a married couple. But they were stuck with each other, Harry was perfectly okay with that. 

“Okay, man, love left. Love left like five years ago. Love has never existed between you two. In fact, I think love—” Harry held his hand over Zayn’s mouth as if he was speaking evil into existence. “Would you come off it?! Your negativity is why you never get dates.” Harry was quick to retrieve his hand, Zayn licks. He always licks. 

“I’ve been in a relationship since year nine, Harry, my ‘dates’ are every Friday night.” Harry furrowed his brows together, tilting his head. “So, that’s why you’ve been blowing me off?” He acted like he didn't know this information. Like he didn’t know all Zayn’s information. Zayn rolled his eyes and then clamped his hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, mate.” Zayn gave a fake solemn look and Harry pouted, continuing the banter. 

“It’s my arse isn’t it? Too fat.” Harry shrugged as if that was just the obvious answer and Zayn laughed, shaking his head. “That would actually put you on top of the list.” He made a face, and Zayn made one in agreement. 

Next thing he knew, Zayn was ruffling his curls and pulling him down into a headlock and he was protesting with every part of him. Long arms flinging around, laughter filling the hallway. “We are not making out, don’t even try it!” Harry protested and Zayn laughed harder. “You wish, pony boy.” Zayn finally shoved him off and Harry stood tall, straightening his jacket for the millionth time today. 

“Don’t know why I’m friends with you.” Harry muttered, not meaning it. “Who else would be?” Zayn retorted and he shot him a look of annoyance and we both broke out into a smile. His mate for life, that guy. 

Zayn and Harry started to make our way out of the school and into the parking lot. The day was over anyway, especially after the event that just took place. Once we were out there, Harry heard her voice and his head was immediately in her direction. She was standing with that idiot that was now supporting a new shiner on his face. Ha, he did that.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Zayn asked him as he opened the boot of his car and started to throw his stuff in there. He tossed mine in as well. “So we were at PE, yeah? Then out of nowhere, Y/N comes storming in, looking livid as all hell. Her boyfriend behind her, yelling things that would make my mum punch me in the throat.”

“He was saying shit to her?” Zayn asked with a raised brow as he looked over his shoulder at her and her boyfriend, seeming to still be having heated discussions. He gave a slightly disgusted look, Zayn didn’t like women being mistreated. He had sisters, and would do anything for them. 

“Understatement. Like, actual shit that should warrant a break up. And that has nothing to do with my secret feelings for her.” Harry tried to defend but Zayn just gave him a look of disbelief. Not mocking either. “They are a secret?” He asked with a deadpan look on his face. 

Harry gave him a full look of annoyance. “You’re the reason romance is dead.” Harry retorted and Zayn snorted at Harry’s attempt at an insult. “No mate, you’re the reason why girls cover their drink at the pub.”

“Hey! I am not, I am a sweet boy who respects women.” Harry was quick to defend himself. He knew zayn didn’t mean it that way, he was just shit at analogies. Always shit at analogies. 

Zayn scoffed, slamming his boot shut as making his way inside the car with Harry following suit. “Unless it’s Y/N.” Zayn said once they were comfortable in the car and Harry narrowed his eyes. “I respect Y/N.” He defended again, because he did.

“You pine after her.” Zayn corrected and okay, mayne he had a slight point there. Harry has had this, well, crush for quite sometime…since primary…first day in fact. Sure, kids were huffing glue and making macaroni art but Harry saw Y/N and he was hooked. She had a valentine from him every year, a birthday card, you name it. It finally stopped in secondary when cute school crushes became a bit more, well, creepy.

“I just think that she deserves the best and she’s clearly not getting it, Zayn. You didn’t see the tears, how upset she was. Someone had to teach that tosser a lesson, fucking wanker.” It practically boiled Harry’s blood just to think about it, let alone talk about it. 

Zayn scoffed, finally driving off to their destination. Harry's house. He looked out the window like a lost puppy when they passed Y/N in the parking lot. “And you what? Just had to be the knight in shining armour.” Zayn didn’t even know why he continued to entertain such a conversation, but he did. 

“I just wanted her to know that there is more out there.” Harry said softly, a bit defeated but his words were true. “And you think you’re that guy?” Zayn asked finally and Harry gave his answer quickly and firmly. 

“I think I could be.”

The car filled with silence after that, but it wasn’t grim. It was normal and comfortable. This happened daily if it was a weekday, Zayn always took Harry home. It was an arrangement they have had since Zayn got his car. Tradition by now. 

Just like always, he insulted zayn one last time before he exited his car, popping the trunk and getting his things out and almost barreling inside until he remembered. Surely, his mum would have gotten the call by now. Blimey he was going to get an actual ear full. 

He ran in but this was to pass by his mum quickly so he could go up the stairs and make it to his room without getting scolded, but he also couldn’t help himself as he peeked into Gemma’s room with a small innocent smile on his face. “Hey did mum get a call?”

“You bet your arse she did, trouble maker.” Gemma said excitedly as she sat up on her bed, her smile was wide and hungry for gossip and Harry couldn’t do anything but groan dramatically and thud his head against the doorframe.

“I’ll have you know I was defending a girl's honor.” Harry said annoyed, his voice almost a whine as he gave his sister pleading eyes. 

Gemma let out a loud sigh as she rolled her eyes. Clearly she wanted to rile Harry up and this was not the reaction she wanted. “Heard that’s why you weren’t getting in serious shit.” She crossed her arms. 

Harry was happy for Gemma’s change in demeanor, now taking the situation a bit more seriously than before. He knew she liked to poke fun but Harry had never really gotten into trouble like this. He’d never been in a fight. Zayn had, just twice, for his sisters but Zayn was the oldest he protected them. 

Harry would protect Gemma too, just to be clear. She is just older and usually can handle everything on her own. Men should fear her. People should fear her. She was a force to be reckoned with. Harry loved her for that. 

“Is she pissed?” Harry tests and the look Gemma gave him told him everything he needed to know. “She’s not happy.” Gemma informed him with a bit of pity on her face. Their mum, Anne was sweet as can be but when she was upset? Well, it made sense where Gemma got her bite. 

He had no idea how he survived in a house full of powerful women.

Harry tiptoed to his mum’s room. Peeking in before he just walked in. He knocked softly and walked in with the most innocent smile he could put on his face. But he was met with fiery eyes. 

As soon as Anne caught sight of him she stormed forward, marching right up to her. Her finger pointed out at him like he was getting a scolding, and well, he was. “Are you absolutely taking the piss?” Her tone was bitter and strong and it made Harry wince. 

“Mum! Don’t get all prissy, you know I can’t stand it.” Harry whined slightly and immediately got hit upside the head. “Language!” Anne shrieked, yeah she was furious. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Harry protested, rubbing the spot he was just hit and giving his mom a disapproving look. He knew she didn’t mean to, it’s not like it really hurt anyway. He was being a tad bit dramatic. 

Anne then sighed, her shoulders slumping, her eyes dropping down the scratched up and soon to be bruising knuckles of Harry’s. “What on earth were you thinking Harry? I mean fighting?” Anne questioned because it wasn’t like her son and Harry knew it was probably jarring for her. This is the type of stuff parents freak out over. 

Harry tried to brighten the mood by gesturing to his face. “Are we not going to comment on how I do not have a scratch on me?” He even gave a smug smile to sell it and Anne let out a sigh. 

“No, because I am terrified of what the other boy looks like.” Anne said softly, so soft that Harry almost didn’t hear it but his smile only grew when he heard it. 

“The same! Just a nice little shiner on his cheek.” Harry brought his pointer finger up to tap lightly on the apple of his cheek, his mother’s eyes widening as she watched him do said action and for a split second it was like all of that rage and anger came flooding back into Anne’s eyes. “Harry!”

Harry held his hands up in defense already as he prepared for his next blow. “Mum – he was literally being a complete shit to a girl and I was trying to defend her. That's why things were dropped, she told the headmaster what happened and she didn’t believe I should be in any trouble. And well, personally, I think that should extend to home.”

There was a pause. It was long. Harry’s arms lowered to his sides. 

“Was he really being mean to her?” Anne asked, her face contorting to something of slight concern. 

Harry let out a soft sigh, his demeanor now matching his mothers. Slumped shoulders, but there was an obvious ache somewhere. “Yes, mum. You’d ring my neck if you heard the things he said to her and I don’t know. I just got pissed, no one deserves that but she really doesn’t.”

“Oh no.” His mum said suddenly and Harry gave her a slightly weird look. “What?” His ask earned him a sigh from her. Harry’s eyes followed his mother as she walked further into her room. “It was Y/N, wasn’t it?” She gave a big sigh and it was Harry’s eyes turn to widen. 

“I–wha–does everyone know?” He asked nearly flabbergasted that even his mother knew about his slight crush. “She even knows, Harry!” Well, shit.

“I am not having this conversation, goodnight mother.” Harry turned on his heels to walk out of the room and he could hear his mother scoff behind him. “It’s 4pm.” Anne sounded unimpressed, Harry could practically hear her arms cross. 

“I will see you in the morning.” Harry just huffed as he continued out the door. “You haven’t even had dinner yet!” Anne called after him but he was already entering his room and shutting the door. 

Harry stayed in his room for the rest of the night, thinking about Y/N. Something about today felt different to him. She had stood up for him, spoke to him, maybe, there could really be something there. He knew he couldn’t give it up. Not yet. He’d find a way to talk to her at school tomorrow. Somehow. 

Fun fact? Harry didn’t have to. 

Y/N was standing by his locker when he entered school the next morning. He looked around himself trying to make sure he was in the right area but as his eyes turned to meet Y/N, she gave him a small wave. She really was waiting on him. 

“Hey.” She said softly once he approached, his head tilted to the side, a smirk planted on his face. “Hey.” He responded, pulling the bag over his shoulder. Y/N almost looked nervous and it made him curious. 

“So, um, there is a party tonight at Jasmine’s house. I wanted to extend the invite as a thank you for being so sweet the other day. Oh, and Zayn can come too, I know you two are like attached at the hip basically.” Harry could tell by Y/N’s fidgeting just how truly nervous she was and it made his smirk turn into a genuine smile. 

“We will see you there.”

***

“I’m not going.” Zayn said as soon as Harry mentioned the party and Harry looked at him like he had lost his mind. What did he mean that he wasn’t going? This was Harry’s in. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” He spat out, and Zayn at first held an amused look on his face before he spoke. “I mean – my girlfriend doesn’t really like Jasmine so me showing up at the party would be suspicious.” He gave a small shrug like this was okay and not ruining Harry’s mood at all. 

“You’re on a fucking lesh.” Harry rolled his eyes at Zayn but of course, this didn’t phase Zayn. This was how they bickered sometimes. Mostly over stupid things. 

“At least I’m getting laid.” Touché there Zayn, touché there.

Harry sat there for a moment. They were currently at lunch and Harry had the perfect view of Y/N. She looked breathtaking even while eating. Harry didn’t think there was one thing she didn’t do that he didn’t find beautiful.

He knew at that moment, he had to go. He had to go to the party but not just because Y/N invited him but because he had a strong feeling he would regret it if he didn’t. 

“Okay, so I will just go and I will make a move.” Harry said nonchalantly, like his idea was no big deal and Zayn immediately choked on his drink, he was now giving Harry a look of fear. “Do not, and I repeat, do not make a move.”

Harry’s thoughts were filled with the different ways for him to try and start a conversation, maybe get her alone to really talk to him about everything. It’s as if Zayn knew exactly what Harry’s mind was doing. 

“She has a boyfriend.” Zayn reminds, the furrow of his brow disapproving of whatever Harry was already planning. “A bad one.” Harry retorted because it was a fact. 

“That — God, do those curls on your head make things hard to get through or what?” Zayn rolled his eyes, picking up his bag of crisps and diving back in. 

Okay, Zayn had a point but I was not about to admit that to his face. That was not how this works. Maybe he was delusional, but as he looked toward Y/N again, her boyfriend stupid arm slung across her shoulders, she looked almost somber. 

Then, their eyes met and Harry’s heart did a little flutter at the soft smile that was directed to him. It seemed genuine and he wanted to put it there every single day. There was no doubt in his mind. He was going to that damn party. 

***

Ten. Harry had tried on ten different outfits and he didn’t even think he had that many to begin with but here he was. He had been texting Zayn pictures of him to help him decide and he was pretty sure Zayn was close to having his head. 

But Zayn had style. It was effortless for him. Harry felt he had to try. Harry went through all of that just to go with something simple. He didn’t know what you wore at parties but he figured clothes in general would suffice. So, a white shirt and black ripped jeans was what he went with. 

Once he made that decision. Not mere moments later he stood in front of the door to Jasmine’s house. Oh the outside it looked like a ghost town. Besides the few cars on the street and in the driveway, it seemed calm but Harry could hear the thump from inside. The sounds of laughter, a bit of chaos maybe. 

He raised his hand and knocked loud enough for someone to hear. Was he even supposed to knock? Probably not. He was probably just supposed to walk in. He was being an idiot already. He reached for the handle but before he could open the door it swung open for him and he was greeted with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. 

“Hey, you came! No Zayn?” Y/N's voice was a bit brighter than usual. Apparently she had loosened up some. Harry was trying his hardest not to stare in any way that was disrespectful but…goddamn. 

The outfit she had decided to wear was low cut and fitting and Harry simply couldn’t breath. “No Zayn. Just me.” Even his voice was a bit breathless. 

Y/N’s eyes turned fond, her smile softening and she looked so welcoming. “Well, that’s alright.” She said as she gestured for him to come in, which he did so promptly. “Did you want a drink?” She asked him and he nodded. 

“Sure, yeah. Beer?” He was trying to remain calm, keep the conversation flowing without trying too hard. She gave a nod. “Follow me.” She beckoned him and he knew he’d follow her anywhere.

Their trek to the kitchen was really eye opening. Harry didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t  exactly what he thought it would be. Bodies everywhere, dancing, talking, drugs, alcohol is what he expected and there seemed to be some of that, but it was a bit more chill. He liked that. 

“I feel like I never see you at parties.” Y/N said as they finally got to the kitchen, she was already grabbing him a beer and popping it open. He took it with a smile and had himself a small drink before he answered. He decided to be truthful. “I don’t normally go to them.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly but a small smile tugged at her lips, she knew she had to. He wasn’t  here for the party. He could care less about it. “You didn’t have to come, you know?” She tested the waters. 

Harry felt like they were actually having a moment. The way their eyes met, dancing with each other like they knew each other. He smiled to himself, all lopsided but his dimples shined bright. “I know.”

Just as he thought he was getting somewhere because, God, it felt like he was. Just when he was going to take that step forward, deepen the conversation. Here he came. Tall, loud, annoying, Milo. He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her into him to the point she looked uncomfortable and Harry wanted to punch him in the face, again.

Milo was all laughs and high fives as if he was some sort of celebrity but his eyes glared once they met Harry. “Hey, aren’t you that dickhead who sucker punched me.” Milo pointed at him and Harry raised his brow. 

“Chill, Lo.” Y/N turned more into him to face him and Harry gripped his beer a bit tighter at that. Milo didn’t look too pleased. His voice was stern and firm but his eyes never left Harry. “Did you invite him?”

Harry didn’t like Milo’s tone, or the way he was looking or touching Y/N, like she wasn’t her own person. Like he owned her. He was about to say something when Y/N spoke. 

“I did.” She crossed her arms, stood her ground. Harry smirked.

“Nice. Real nice Y/N.” Milo scoffed and rolled his eyes, storming off to be the center of attention or whatever the fuck he did and Harry couldn’t help but think good riddance.

Y/N sighed softly, her head tiling some as she looked at him, her expression was soft and apologetic and Harry hated to see her like that. “Sorry.” She tried to chuckle as if that was completely normal behavior but maybe to her it was. 

Harry’s brows met together as he finally took that small step forward, sitting his beer down on the counter. “Why are you apologizing?”

She noticed his small stride forward but she didn’t say anything about it. “Milo can be a bit much…” She admitted but there was obviously more to it than that. She knew it. I knew it. 

“I’ve noticed.” Harry’s comment hung in the air for a moment. There was a slight crackle there, a hint that maybe something could spark from this. 

It was then when Y/N took her own step forward, bringing them closer together and Harry had to do everything to stay composed. She was just so close to him, he could see every little detail of her face. Her subtle makeup and how it enhances the things that were already there that made her so naturally beautiful in the first place.

“Why did you do it?” She asked softly and Harry cleared his throat some. “Do what?” He questioned as if he didn’t know what this conversation was about. 

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes in a way that was playful. “Don’t play stupid.” Y/N’s eyes met his again and Harry felt himself sigh, it wasn’t out of annoyance though, it was over the fact that he knew when she looked at him like that, he couldn’t deny her. Not in the slightest. 

“He was saying things about you—-to you. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.” Harry said softly, he was hesitant, part of him was telling him to reach out, reassure even if it’s just a friendly gesture but he didn’t want to cross a boundary. 

“You don’t even know me.” She whispered and it wasn’t malicious or in ill intent, she seemed cautious, vulnerable almost. Like no one had ever stood up for her before, even if they knew her well. 

“I don’t have to. It's just common decency.”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something but Jasmine's voice boomed over the music that was playing in the background. 

“We’re playing a game!”

Some cheered, some groaned but Harry and Y/N? Just kept eye contact with each other. Both silent, like they were having a private conversation with their eyes. 

“Okay, I don’t have to explain right?” Jasmine asked as the group that were all gathered in a circle. Harry noticed Y/N didn’t sit by her boyfriend. She didn’t sit by Harry either but that's besides the point. 

“You can explain why we are playing it.” Liam, a lad from Harry’s English class came forward with the question. 

Jasmine scoffed, rolled her eyes in full annoyance. “Because it’s fun, come on. You don't even have to do anything – make a friend!” She was too excited for this. 

And what was this? Seven minutes in heaven. A childish dumb game that was either a blessing or a curse depending on the situation. Harry hoped this was a blessing for him. 

He watched as people spun a half drunk bottle of Jack in the middle of the floor and then disappeared for seven minutes. Either coming back looking as they went or disheveled. There was no guessing who took the time to get to know each other friendly or intimately. 

It then was Milo’s turn and Harry glared at him but he noticed that Y/N didn’t make eye contact and when Milo’s spin landed on someone who wasn’t his girlfriend, he smiled. Fucking prick. 

After seven minutes, Milo came out looking just as he went in and for a moment Harry was shocked, maybe he was low, but not that low, but then the girl tipped toed from around him, wiping her smudged lip gloss and Harry could feel his blood boil.

Y/N noticed but she didn’t say anything. Harry wondered if this was a normal occurrence. If this is something he had done before. Or maybe she didn’t care, but that didn’t seem like Y/N. 

Within no time, it was Harry’s turn and he cleared his throat a bit. He sort of thought the game would be over before it even got to him but alas. Here he was. He spun the bottle, eyes glancing around as waited to see just who it would land on. 

As fate would have it, the bottle landed on Y/N and Harry felt his whole body spring to life. She looked at him through those ridiculously long lashes and for a moment he thought he saw a bit of excitement in her eyes. 

“Would you stop bloody staring and get into the closet?” Jasmine groaned out and Harry chuckled softly at her. For something that was her idea, she was really acting like she wanted this to end. 

“You’re not really doing this, right?” Milo spoke from the sidelines, his eyes narrowing. It seemed this was his typical behaviour but apparently it wasn’t Y/N. Made sense. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and then came at him hard. “Didn’t you just go into a closet with someone?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the double standard clear and the whole circle were looking between the two at the interaction. 

“Babe, that was different.”

Okay, Harry had enough. He stood, took long strides over to Y/N without any hesitation and he held his hand out to her. This seemed to stop all conversation and Milo looked at him like he was dead meat. 

Didn’t care. He was about to get seven minutes alone with her. Seven whole minutes. Maybe that’s all he needed. 

She took his hand and he smirked before even realizing. Protests could be heard from the meathead, but her? She was the one who led him into the closet. 

Once inside. Every male instinct in him said pounce, but of course, he was respectful. he was not about to make her uncomfortable. 

He watched as she shifted, probably trying to adjust to the darkness like he was and then, a phone light. You laughed and he wanted to kiss her immediately. 

“Sorry—“ She sat her phone down so it illuminated the room. “—Not the biggest fan of the dark.” He smiled at that. So she had a fear of the dark. That’s cute. That’s endearing. That made him wonder if she preferred the lights on in bed. 

What? He is a guy. Sue him. 

“It’s all good. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.” Harry told her sincerely. It was important to him. For her to be comfortable. He’d always honor that. 

“Why are you so sweet, Harry?” Y/N asked suddenly and Harry gave a small shrug. “Don’t reckon I am to most.” And he wasn’t. Harry had Zayn but other than that, he didn’t have many friends. He didn’t mind. He liked to keep to himself. 

Y/N scrunched her nose up some, it was cute. She looked at him like she didn’t believe him, but he understood that. “You are to me.” There it was. The way she pointed out the obvious. “Yes.” And how he always confirmed it without hesitation. 

Harry watched her face change from a sweet smile to a slightly more serious expression. “Why do you like me, Harry?” She asked him in a whisper and Harry had to take a deep breath. He was going to tell her the truth but he had to compose himself first. 

“Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, you’re incredibly beautiful and smart. So fucking smart. You have goals, a future. You know what you want in life and that’s so attractive. Then you’re sweet, I notice. How you treat others and how kind you are. You’re unbelievable in every sense of the word. There’s no way in hell I wouldn’t like you.”

Then, he felt her hands grasping his shirt and then her lips on his and—Oh my god. 

Oh my fucking god. 

You were kissing him and he felt like he took too long to respond because his mind was an absolute fucking wreck. 

You tasted like strawberries and a hint of some type of liquid courage and he was addicted already. The grip she had in his shirt loosened as the kiss went on and he took his time. 

We might only have seven minutes but I’m going to treat it like we had a lifetime. He let one of his hands take her by the waist to pull her in closer. Flush. His other hand cupped the nape of her neck and he swore he heard her make a noise and he had to fight every single urge running through his body. 

Your lips were soft but they kissed fiercely and he liked that. It wasn’t as sweet as he wanted our first kiss to be but it was passionate. Then, her tongue graced his lip and he fucking melted. 

You knew what she wanted and that confidence was something else. A turn on. No, seriously. His jeans were fucking tight. He licked into her mouth like he was on a mission to memorize it. Then he heard it again. Yeah, that was definitely a moan. And he wanted to hear it again. 

He moved then, shifting us, pressing her against something, anything. Finally when she was pressed against the wall, he was able to slot his leg between hers and he knew she could feel him. There was a soft gasp from her, but she smiled into the kiss. 

Although, he could kiss her lips all day and never complain. He wanted more. Needed, actually. And he had no idea how much longer we had before this moment was ripped away from us.  His lips moved over the curve of her jaw, to her ear where he nipped at her earlobe and caused her to suck in a breath. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He whispered into her ear and she dug her nails into his back and why couldn’t this be as many minutes as he wanted in heaven. Because those minutes would be forever.

“Harry..” You whispered and there was a slight warning there but there was also desire and he could feed off of it. His lips were on her neck now and her hands were in his hair, tugging, gripping. He was nearly lost. 

Until. 

His back hit the opposite wall so fast and he was very confused. However, the confusion was quickly replaced with understanding once he heard the twist of the door knob. Their time was over. 

“You two look like you couldn’t get farther away from each other.” Jasmine said and he smirked instantly, but he looked away to try and hide it. Y/N shot him a glare. Harry thinks he is actually in love with her. 

“Can we leave or is this our new home?”

Jasmine rolled her eyes but she stepped aside and they both walked out. He couldn’t lie. He was on cloud nine. They just made out. Like properly made out. Sure it was in a closet and not the way he had envisioned it. But it happened. And she enjoyed it. Does that mean it will happen again?

“Sorry you got stuck in the closet with such a delinquent.” Milo was practically standing right around the corner waiting for them. He had this look on his face that only screamed bad news. Harry was really sick of this guy. 

“Milo.” There was a clear warning in her voice this time. Not like in the closet. No, he was wearing her thin “Can we go?” She snapped and Milo looked offended. 

“No, the party hasn’t even started yet!” He truly sounded like a brat and Harry had to step in. He just had to. “I’ll take you.” He spoke up and bothe Milo and Y/N’s head turned toward him in shock. 

Milo let out a chuckle and moved to mask Y/N some. “Not a chance, bruv.” He said and Harry was trying to mentally prepare himself for a fight. 

“Okay.” Came a soft voice that belonged to Y/N as she stepped from behind her boyfriend. Milo looked at her like he was seeing double. 

“What?!” Milo’s voice even sounded like it jumped an octave but Y/N stood her ground. Reaching out, she took Harry by the arm and pulled herself to his side. 

“I said I wanted to go home. I’m going.”

That was final. And that’s how Y/N ended up next to him in his car as he drove them to her home. It was silent for a moment during the ride, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt a bit necessary to fully process what happened. Not just between them but the whole night. 

“It's the house on the corner still, right? Off Shade Hollow?” Harry asked after a beat and Y/N shot him a bit of an impressed look. “How do you know that?” She questioned and Harry bit his lip. 

He felt like he could feel himself almost blush at what he was about to say next. He shifted a bit before he cleared his throat. “Year six your mom made you throw an all inclusive birthday party. I came.” Laughter then filled the car. “Of course you did.”

Harry glanced at her at that, his smile widening some. “You don’t sound surprised.” He acknowledged as turned his attention back to the road but before he looked away he was sure he saw her smile slightly falter. 

“Nothing can phase me after tonight.” Her voice came out soft as she spoke and Harry pursed his lips together, his shoulders relaxing some as he was nearing her house. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked and she scoffed immediately, “What? My infidelity?” She rolled her eyes but closed her eyes and sighed after. As if she was displacing her anger and she was trying to compose herself. 

“He’s not good to you, Y/N.”

“That doesn’t justify it.”

“He was literally in that same closet making out with some girl.”

“And I was no different.”

“I don’t — regret it Harry, I just need to figure some stuff out.”

“I’ll give you that.”

And he did. He gave her time. 

Two weeks to be exact. In the meantime, telling Zayn about everything was pretty funny considering he sat there with his mouth wide open as if Harry was lying about every single word. 

“She kissed you?”

“Yes.”

“You kissed her?”

“Yes.”

“You made out?”

“Properly.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

That was the conversation in a nutshell. 

Things have been happening and Harry has been noticing. Y/N and Milo have been seen less together, and rumors have started about a possible break up. Everything was solidified when the meathead himself walked down the hallway with a new girl on his arm. 

Harry was the happiest he’s ever been. 

He was ecstatic when he and Zayn walked outside after the last bell and saw Y/N leaned against Zayn’s car. Harry started to smack Zayn’s shoulder while Zayn just laughed at Harry’s reaction. He nearly tumbled down the stairs. 

“She’s there.”

“I see.”

“I should go.”

“You should.”

Harry nodded and then turned back to face Y/N, she was now sporting some small like e were in some fucking rom com and he just wanted to run up and kiss her senseless.

He tried to walk down the stairs confidently, but his smile gave him away. He was looking at her like she was the only girl in the world and she was giving this warm smile that made his chest tighten. 

“Hey.” He spoke once his feet were planted before her. 

“Hey.” She cooed, glancing behind Harry at Zayn momentarily. “He mind if I steal you for a bit?” She asked with this look that said she knew the answer already. He didn’t even look at Zayn. “He doesn’t mind.”

Then, he was in her car, foot tapping against the floor board. She was wearing this easy smile like she felt free. It was beautiful. 

They were going to her place. Her parents were out and his brain couldn’t stop repeating the words she whispered in his ear. I can’t wait to be alone with you.

Oh, he was so fucked.

“Sorry it took a while, I have some…terms to come to, I guess.” She whispered softly as they neared her home and Harry’s heart felt like it could fall out of his chest. 

“No, no. I’m happy you took the time you needed. I want you to be ready for this, not scared of this.” Harry’s voice held a gentle tone and Y/N appreciated that. She smiled, it was warm like her. 

Harry could only describe what happened next as a rush. Car was parked, the front door unlocked. Harry might have gotten a small glance of the entryway before Y/N lips were on his and suddenly that was all he could think about.

His jacket came off first, it landed somewhere in the couch, shoes were kicked off at the bottom of the stairwell and then her lips parted from his, soft pants filling the air around them as they stared into each other's eyes, knowing exactly what was about to happen. 

Y/N gave him a smile and took his hand, leading him up to her room, his heart thudding in his chest. He felt like all his dreams were coming true at once. 

Harry wanted to look around the room. To see where Y/N felt the most comfortable. To get to know her on a more personal level but as soon as he pulled that door closed behind him. His focus and attention were solely on her. 

Before she could even turn around Harry stepped behind her, his hand find her hip, his finger slipping underneath the hem of her shirt just to lightly brush the skin there, he leaned his head down, starting to press soft kisses to Y/N’s neck, she immediately tilted to give him more access and he watched with half-lidded eyes as hers closed completely. 

She Looked like elegance and Harry couldn’t believe just how lucky he was at that moment. His hand slipped further up her shirt as the little noises that started to escape her mouth edged Harry on. Her hand was now in his hair and he was sure she could feel his heartbeat against her back . But if it was any indication from the way she was breathing, her heart was beating just as fast. 

Then Y/N turned to face him, his eyes going directly to hers just to see them dark with lust and a hint of something else that made his skin tingle and his chest tighten. There was more to this than meets the eyes and they both knew that.

She reached down to remove her shirt and Harry couldn’t control his eyes as they immediately dropped, his breath caught in his throat as delicate lace covered the skin he had dreamed about. He followed pursuit, taking off his own shirt and he heard her audible gasp, even if it was soft. He smirked.

Harry watched as Y/N reached to unbutton her jeans and he closed the small gap between them. His hand covering hers. “Please, let me.” His voice was low, rough, raspy and he didn’t even recognize his own voice for a moment. She swallowed but nodded, moving her hands. You couldn’t cut the tension in the room with a knife. It clung to the air and coated over them. 

His hands moved slowly, his eyes watching her reaction, the way her chest heaved with each breath, even the way her thighs squeezed together a bit as he pulled her jeans down. She was ready for him and fuck was he ready for her too. 

He kissed along her thighs and she let out small shaky breaths that sounded like symphonies. “Harry.” She exhaled and you guessed it, he was done for. 

It was like something primal engaged inside of him and next thing he knew, he was standing and picking her up and throwing her on the bed, his body coming to nestle perfectly between her legs and his lips were on hers in a way that made her whimper. 

His jeans couldn’t come off fast enough, near damn painful from just how hard he was. And now they were both in their underwear and Harry never thought this would happen. He never thought he would be running his hands down her body, feeling the soft skin and subtle curves and dips. 

Never thought he would be snaking those same hands around her back to unclasp her bra and kiss down her body like he was on a fucking mission. And he was. He was damned determined to make her feel like she has never before. 

Harry pressed lightly into her skin as his finger tips ran up her torso to grasp her breast and then the room was suddenly filled with soft moans that only got louder as his lips came in contact with her hard nipple. 

He felt her fingers curled in his hair and she would light scratch and pull and that was enough to make Harry groan against her skin. He kept moving down. Dying to have her on his taste buds. Needing her in a way that was nearly feral. 

Before he knew it he was face to face with her core and Y/N was letting out little whines as soon as his lips left her. But the sight was something he had to see. Cotton was a bold choice because it left no room to hide. She was dripping. He licked his lips, the happiest grin on his face. Like he was a kid in a candy store. 

When the fabric was finally removed, Harry knew what to do. His head was buried nearly immediately, his arms wrapping around her thighs and pulling her to him, her legs over his shoulders. She wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be here for hours if she’d let him. 

As soon as he tasted her, he was hooked. Not only to her, but just how loud she got from only one stroke of his tongue and the quicker it moved, the louder she got.

His eyes were glued to her. One of her hands in his hair, the other pressing against the headboard and she tried to get closer to him. Her head was kicked back, eyes closed, face contorted in pure pleasure and if Harry didn’t have other plans, he would’ve come then and there untouched just from the sight.

Y/N started clawing at his shoulders, her body a mess, already having little spasms underneath him. “Harry, please.” She sounded desperate and he found he absolutely loved it. She kept going. 

“I need you.” A moan. “Inside.” A sharp intake. “Of me.” A whisper. 

That was it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He felt a noise ripple from the back of his throat, near close to a growl and climbed over her. She had a light sheen of sweat coating her, giving her a glow that Harry had to memorize.

“Condoms in the top drawer.” She informed him, it took him less than a second to retrieve it, only a few to push his briefs down and kick them to the floor and just a bit longer to rip open the condom and slid it on. All the while Y/N was letting little giggles escape her which was causing Harry’s dimples to show from the grin he had on his face. “Shut up.” He mumbled, he knew he looked eager. 

“Hey.” He heard her soft voice as she turned his head to look at her. She kissed him, soft and sweet and almost too much for him right now. “I’m happy we’re doing this.” She whispered against his lips. 

“Yeah?” He asked, her words were music to his ears as their lips stayed softly tangled with each other’s. “Yeah.” She whispered and before Harry knew it, those soft kisses and whispers led to him back between her legs, those same legs hooked over his hips and the tip of his cock positioned at her entrance. 

When it happened, Harry saw heaven. He had to stop his eyes from rolling into the back of his head because he had to watch her. The look on her face was priceless and he wanted this to be his view every morning, afternoon, evening, and night.

His thrusts were slow, deep and demanding. Eliciting a noise with each thrust, his fingers were digging into her hip, his own soft moans intertwining with hers. They really did sound beautiful together. Nails were scratching down his back where heels were pressing into and his pace quickened. 

“So beautiful, keep making those sounds for me, love.” Harry whispered as he head hung in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. His words came out hot and passionate, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve thought about this. You feel even better than I imagined so tight, warm and perfect.” 

That seemed to have done something because the next thing Harry knew Y/N’s hips were moving to meet his and she was saying his name like a prayer. Fuck, she was close and damn it, he was too. 

Harry shifted his weight to one hand beside her head while his other hand slipped between them, his thumb finding her clit and working the bundle of nerves to bring her over the edge. And boy, did it. 

The sight before him was forever burned into the back of his head along with a noise of pure ecstasy that he wished could be his ringtone. It was beautiful enough to be. 

Her eyes rolled back, nails dug in hard enough that Harry hissed, and the literal scream that erupted from her. Well, what man’s ego could ever recover from that?

“Fuck, fuck!” Harry panted, trusts erratic, the sounds of skin against skin filled the air and then, with a shudder that he will never forget, Harry buried himself deep inside her wasn’t released into the condom, a string of curses and her name falling from his parted lips as his eyes squeezed shut. 

Harry was in complete bliss, that is until he heard soft giggles below him. His brows furrowed, his eyes opening slowly to look down at Y/N’s glowing and smiling face. 

“Excuse me?” Harry acted like he was offended but his completely blissed out smile gave him away fully. His voice was a bit shaky as he tried to catch his breath. That just made her giggle more and he suddenly found it unfair that she was able to breath so easily while he felt like he just ran a marathon.

“You have a cute cum face.” She poked his cheek where his dimple would be and like magic it appeared, along with a grin. “Oh, bloody hell.” Harry groaned as he carefully pulled out, his muscles aching but he didn’t mind. 

It wasn’t his first rodeo, he pulled off the condom, Y/N held up the bin that she conveniently kept next to her bed and he tossed it inside. They really made a good team. 

Harry made himself comfortable in the bed before he pulled Y/N into his chest, his chin atop her head and a smile that couldn’t be erased off of either of their faces. 

“Ya’know. I’ve liked you for a while now.” Harry whispered into the air. His confession, if you could even call it that, was met with laughter. 

“Yeah, no shit.”

[kinbedo]

Mercy on Me

A Kinich x reader modern au written series

Introductions

wc: 1.1k

Elementary School, Summer Vacations

Ajaw is annoying.

Always has been, and the whole neighbourhood believed that he always will be.

You and your friends could recognise that grating laughter from a mile away. Before you have the chance to turn around and see where he is, his yellow hair would pop up, him proudly riding his little 3-wheeled kid’s scooter yelling for everyone to get out of his way.

Which is also why you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw him with another guy.

You rub your eyes, once, twice, but the slightly shorter, black-haired boy is still there. Never taking your eyes off the sight, you fling your right arm, trying to catch your friend’s attention. The blue-haired girl is just as awestruck as you are, and so is the older blonde on your left. 

Mualani pulls the baby in her arms closer to her chest, the 4-year-old sleeping peacefully in her arms. “Should we follow them?”

“Yeah I’d uh like to know what’s going on too. Because there is no way that obnoxious brat actually made a friend.” Xilonen says, hands on her hips as she shakes her head.

You simply nod before you start moving, Xilonen in tow and Mualani stepping a lot more carefully due to Kachina sleeping in her arms.

The boy with Ajaw is a little shorter, but seems to be around the same age as you all. You don’t recall ever seeing him around the neighbourhood before. There’s a solemn expression on his face, as he quietly follows the blond. You notice the bandages around his forearm and your breath hitches. Ajaw is walking ahead, a stick in his hand and his chest puffed out. “That’s right, lowly servant! Keep marching with me! Ahaha!”

You crouch behind a nearby bush, while Xilonen takes the tree beside you. Mualani was just about to crouch down beside you when she stumbled, jerking Kachina awake, who started crying at the sudden movement.

The black-haired boy flinches, taking two unsteady steps back as Ajaw growls in annoyance. “WHO’S THERE? Oh it’s you three… plus one tch.” Ajaw snickers at the last part, annoyance evident in his tone. “Why even carry a baby around when you’re trying to stalk someone?? You’re bound to fail you dimwits!” 

“Hey at least we’re being nice and helping Kachina’s parents out! Unlike you, we’re not causing more problems for the adults!” Mualani snaps back, putting Kachina down. The little girl quickly shuffles to your side, clinging to the side of your shirt as you wrap a protective arm around her. Xilonen sighs. “Here they go again.”

“Oh so you DO admit to stalking! What business do you have with me this time, peasant?”

“Well… we were curious,” Mualani admits. “You never get along with anyone. How’d you end up making a friend?”

“Friend? Hah. I wouldn’t be hanging out with this kid if he weren’t my stupid cousin!”

“I’m older than you Ajaw…” the boy says meekly, his words barely above a whisper. 

“Introduce us.” Mualani states plainly. It's not a request, it's a demand.

“Hahh??? Ugh! You know what, fine. This is Kinich. Kinich, these are children.”

“YOU’RE THE SAME AGE AS US YOU YELLOW-HEADED BRAT.”

Kinich shifts uncomfortably, only nodding his head at being thrown into the limelight. 

“I’m uh Xilonen. Nice to meet you, Kinich. And this is Mualani, [name], and Kachina. I hope Ajaw’s been nice enough to you. And that uh, that Mualani hasn’t startled you.” You mirror Kinich’s actions on being mentioned, shuffling a bit and lightly kicking at the dirt beneath your feet.  

Kachina’s eyes shift between each one of you there, slowly letting go of you and standing on her own, the initial shock now worn off. After eyeing Kinich for a little while, she excitedly exclaims, “Want to be friends?”

.

.

.

You could often see the blond running around his house from your window. Sometimes, you’d step out to the balcony just to catch Ajaw basking in the sun in his own balcony, laughing loudly while making weird noises as he played with the dragon figurines in his hand. You could have been staring into the distance, when a golden brown arm would make its way into your peripheral vision, a smirk on Ajaw’s face as he pointed downwards before laughing maniacally. You’d always roll your eyes and just head back inside.

But lately, you started to notice a certain jet-haired boy around him. Kinich would often wave at you and cut his brother off when he tried to make a nasty comment.

“So you really are cousins.”

“Why would I bother with him otherwise??”

You were curious about the bandages, ready to reprimand Ajaw for hurting him.

But you didn’t even have to ask.

It wasn’t long after you met Kinich that your parents decided to take you over to Ajaw’s place. It was there that you found out more about Kinich.

...And his abusive parents.

You found out that Kinich had recently moved in with Ajaw’s family, and that he would be joining the same school as you post vacation.

Your legs dangled off the edge of the couch, as you sipped on the juice Ajaw’s mom gave you. She had always been such a sweetheart, having your favourites ready for whenever she saw you. You’d sometimes question how Ajaw was even related to this woman. But even her sweet smile looked a little dull today.

“Kinich is a brave lad,” Ajaw’s father began. “He called me one night and I went over to realise that… the atmosphere at his home wasn’t the best. So I offered to take him in. His mother, my wife’s sister, agreed.”

You looked over to Ajaw’s mom, and then to Ajaw and acknowledged their yellow hair as their most prominent feature. You then turn your gaze to Kinich, who had been staring at the floor the whole time, and notice the blond streaks in his own hair.

Kinich feels you staring at him and tilts his head towards you, his neck still inclined downward. You flinch and turn away, red dusting your cheeks at being caught. Kinich’s lips tilt upwards, a huff leaving him at your behaviour, causing you to look at him again, smiling nervously. 

“We were hoping that Kinich could be friends with your child. Even we’re aware that Ajaw can get a bit too rough at times.” His dad laughed, taking another sip of his wine. Ajaw groaned, but didn’t say anything back.

“If there’s anything you need, please, do call us. As neighbours, it’s our duty to help one-another.” Your mom says, holding her hand forward which Ajaw’s mom takes very graciously, mumbling a “thank you” in response.

Well, that felt like an official notice for you to add Kinich to your little group of friends.

And Ajaw. 

Just the thought itself makes you grumble.

Breaking this news to Mualani would definitely not go well.

[bananacakepie]

Okay, sound the alarms, I think I know who the Bad Guy is. Zara is evil.

Good news, is that no one really thinks through “who is running the Institute?” and traces it back to Julian. If Manuel and Zara keep underestimating Julian then that leaves room for him to undermine them.

Zara and Manuel may be young adults, or old teens, but you know that they probably aren’t taken that seriously. The idea that Zara’s dad might come in and back her up politically is a threat, one that our heros cannot match. All trusted adults are crazy (Arthur), dead/liars/traitors (Malcolm) or have something stopping them from helping (Diana).

And they can’t even rely on the aforementioned “runner of the Institute,” because right now Julian is in no position to stop Zara and Manuel, and their horrifying plan. I think that when Kit thinks that their plan bears resemblance to mundane history, he means that it reminds him of a part of the Holocaust, when Jews had to wear a sort of sign on their clothing where everyone could see, identifying them as Jews. This was to make discrimination and deportation of Jews easier for Nazis, as part of their plan to kill all Jews. In a very “we must learn history or we will be forced to repeat it” moment, Kit knows where this sort of behavior leads, and the audience who shared his knowledge of history also knows this.

So now we’re established that they have tourtured people before. Multiple times. Was that another part of their plan to push Downworlders down?

I’m pretty sure torture - of anyone but demons - violates the Accords, and lets us know who these people are. They are absolutely willing to harm people to further their cause. Zara’s remark that Manuel enjoys it seems new, not an old argument, not something that she’s had to stop him from doing, but rather an aside, something she witnessed and tucked away, because it doesn’t matter if he’s enjoying it or not, or if he’s gone too far, because the people he has hurt don’t matter to her.

And Manuel’s response further develops him and her. Manuel is direct in his evil. Sure, he has to hide it from other people, but among the Cohort, he can be the “Wild Card” of the group, uncontrollable and cruel, as long as he is directed the right way. Meanwhile, Zara keeps up her “we are following the law, and doing things the way they should be done” tirade, refusing to lower herself to Manuel’s level, or have her opinion challenged in any way.

Zara admires Manuel’s “work”. That word is very dehumanizing, turning the people who Manuel has tortured into meaningless examples, with no thought to their lives. And Manuel is just smiling the whole time? At least Zara is pretending to put on a veil of civility and be formal. Or maybe she really believes in her cause, which makes her so much worse.

Zara (and her father) seem to be the ones in charge: Zara’s doing the talking, Zara’s throwing out insults, Zara’s deciding who she will give a second chance, Zara’s family will be running the Institute.

And then Manuel throws a wrench in their dynamic, showing us that he might be closer to a true wild card, rather than just the unpredictable/crazy second-in-command to the bad guy. He wants something. Something that Zara already knows about, something that feels like has been repeated. Maybe knowing that something could give our main characters an advantage, or maybe it could show us for disgusting Manuel really is. But it looks like he really wants it.

And then the reveal of the plan. I don’t think I need to say much more about it.

The setting: creepy

The plan: ominous and horrifying

The deal: really really weird

In conclusion, these are both horrible people. Zara seems to be a little more lawful than Manuel, relying on structure and Law, but she also plans to be in charge of the Law, so I think she’s just trying to set a precedent. “I followed your laws, now you follow mine.”

So, Lawful Evil and Chaotic Evil? I’ll revisit it.

Zara says that the “Cohort” is on their side, which is very bad if they have a large group of people to back them up. Based on the was the talk, and have acted as a whole, I think most Centurions are a part of this Downworlder-hating Cohort. Looks like they’re going all in on the roman-naming theme, which is funny when they’re dealing with the roman/greek named Blackthorns.

Manuel might be a wild card, and is definitely a pig.

On the bright side, Kit, Ty and Livvy had some cute moments. The “Hot Shadowhunters Calendar” and comartary on who Ty could throw the starfish at. Does this trio have a name? The twins and Kit? The Mystery Trio? TLK? Especially this moment at the start where Kit doesn’t mock Livvy’s romanticizing of Manuel and Zara, and seems to seriously look for it.

Kit seems to want to prove himself to Ty and Livvy, getting embarrassed and going along with their plans. I think he does like hanging out with them. (Blackthorns do seem to embrace the Mundane culture and these two especially and less trying to force Kit to train, just run wild and have fun. Maybe he sees hanging out with them as a form of rebellion?)

Also a this scene gives us a little insight into Kit’s backstory, when he remembers his father dying. He’s kind of the Tessa or Clary of this series, just introduced to the Shadowhunter world through a tramatic demonic related event. And he’s probably still processing the trauma of watching his father die, so it’s understandable that he doesn’t want to go toe to toe with a demon anytime soon.

[seveneyesoup]

dunno a week ago or thereabouts i was set up outside the library with a comrade and we have a palestine flag up, and this woman comes by and she thanks us for having it. and she starts talking, and asking us about things and she says she doesn’t support violence, doesn’t support israel doesn’t support hamas, that she’s palestinian and she’s been there and how she heard stories about it and she went there as a child, eight years old, and she was held in the airport for ten hours. she didn’t know what was happening, and the man who’d put them there clearly hated her, from the bottom of his soul, a child who he’d never met before. she’d seen the occupation, been threatened and followed by strangers, and they hated her. the way she said hated sounded different than any other word.

she said she was an artist, that she had a lot of feelings and she put them in her art and she showed us some of it. it was abstract, mostly, black and blue and red and scraps of paper with words printed on them. and she tells my comrade she hasn’t gone to actions because she has a special needs son, and she tells us she’s in therapy, but her therapist is a white lady and she doesn’t really understand, she says she does, but she’s never been through it. never been looked at with that kind of hatred. and she says she thinks about a lot of things. she thinks this might be hell, “this world we’re in right now.” she tells us about a friend of hers, palestinian, whose entire family is dead. all of them.

she asks if we’ve heard of the undergraduate hospital in israel. she says she’s glad they can help with the suffering, that it’s good that they have that. she says she wishes they had something like that in palestine. of all the things she’s said so far, this is the saddest her voice has sounded. she tells us she doesn’t know what the answer is. she says there’s people in israel who can’t just leave but that palestine deserves better. she says she doesn’t have any friends anymore, not ones she talks to. she repeats herself a lot. she thanks us for fighting, for believing the world can be better. she says she doesn’t believe that, but that it’s important someone does. my comrade assures her a better world can be built, if not for us than at least for the children. she says the children are dead.

we ask if there’s anything we can do for her. she says to “tell my shitty story, so people know. know what it’s like.” when we have to part ways, she thanks us again for letting her talk. tells us again to tell her story.

[consensus-fiction]

as usual i’m like alf a month late on witch hat atelier but JEZUS

[into-the-milgramverse]

I wish I could also write out something about Shidou, but like, my opinions are shaped based on combination of other people's takes, and it feels as if everyone kind of just stopped analyzing him after people figured out that his crime is related to asking the families of brain dead patients for permission to use the organs of said brain dead patients. After that, no one really went to look into his character deeper, he kinda just got boiled down to as "oh, a surgeon guy", "guy with family", "guy who takes organs", "guy who wanted to be guilty sooo bad and then got innocent twice in a row".

[pixelplushies]

So I was recently tasked with a very well loved soft toy Flip the Frog from the 1930s to restore.

He was bought new for my great aunt-in-law when she was 10, and was gifted to her sister's children when they were young. My mother in law has memories of feeding him cornflakes and putting her hands in his mouth, which felt very soft and velvety.

He had been in the attic for a number of years, and had moths get to him. He had lost his eyes. Luckily there are some examples online which show what he was meant to be like!

I approached this project wanting to retain as much of the original plush as I could. I thought about doing a total restoration, but I would end up replacing so much I might as well be making a replica! I wanted to make sure I used fabrics that were sympathetic to the time period, so 100% wool felt and cotton velvet seemed appropriate. The only liberty I took was polyester thread, because that's what I had already.

I researched a lot of plush restorations and best practices. A lot of places recommended only surface washing, but poor Flip was so full of dust and the remains of moths, but his fabric body seemed rather sturdy still, I thought I would take the risk of un-stuffing him to give him a thorough bath. I very gently took him apart and unstuffed him. His stuffing material looked to be kapok. There was lots of moth poop.

I gave Flip a gentle bath with carpet cleaning solution, which is what is recommended for vintage plushies. It's designed to be used on lots of fabrics including natural ones like wool and doesn't leave a residue once it's done cleaning so won't degrade the fabric over time. Loads of grime came out of Flip, as well as some yellow dye from his feet.

Flip then had a good air-dry in the sun. He seemed to enjoy soaking up the sun, he was already looking a lot cleaner.

Flip's eyes (which once upon a time caused my cousin-in-laws nightmares) were particularly gross and moth-eaten underneath. I decided to re-cover the card disks that made up his eyes with velvet cotton instead rather than reuse the old eyes. His original velvet was really bright yellow but had faded over time. I decided to use a fabric that matched his more faded look, I felt the bright yellow would look out of place. I also got some wooden beads and cut them in half and painted them for his pupils, which I glued on.

When it came to restoring his feet, I tried to retain as much of the original material as possible. I enjoyed patching and repairing the felt, I chose a 100% wool yellow felt that was close to his old colour here. Highlights the age of the old parts, I feel like it draws attention to his history and age.

Time to put him back together! I bought some new kapok stuffing because I couldn't reuse the old dusty moth stuff. Luckily you can still get it. I wrapped his metal skeleton in felt so that if it got rusty it wouldn't stain him (he's already a little stained from it rusting). Then I slipped his limbs over the skeleton and sewed them back on!

Ta-daa!! Here's flip looking a lot better, even if I say so myself.

One of the things we noticed when looking at photos of these soft toys is that they seem to have pinkish or white bow-ties and this Flip was missing his! Looking at the character art, I believe they were originally red.

The orientation of the eyes also seems to vary because I think they were prone to falling off and being sewn back on. I chose to orient Flip's eyes close to how they were when I received him, but slightly more vertical to make him appear more friendly.

Flip was a very fun challenge and got me thinking a lot about restoration vs conservation of historical artifacts, he may not be super duper old or rare but I feel like I better understand the dilemmas and judgements that have to be made when working on objects like this!

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Sylus x Down-bad!Player

Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]

continue ↣

Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.

Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.

Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.

Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”

Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”

Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”

Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”

Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”

Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..

Self-Aware!Zayne Self-Aware!Xavier Self-Aware!Rafayel Self-Aware!Caleb

continue ↣

[les4elliewilliams]

❝𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑.❞

ghostface!bestfriend!ellie ✗ fem reader

❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝚰 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.❞

⚠︎︎︎.ᐟ ⌞warnings ⊹ cw⌝ ﹕ approx 20k words. (ik im sorry im always yapping too much.) headcanons!! mention of blood/murders, drugs usage. childhoodbestfriend!𝑒, perv!𝑒, ghostface!𝑒, switch!𝑒, v light knife play (𝑒!receiving+giving), handcuffing ghostface😊, oral/fingering, strap-on sex (r!receiving), extremely jealous/obsessive!𝑒, ellie gets off to eepy reader and they get off together on the couch yummyy... i think that's it?? ps ignore that ugly ass edited pic pls😭

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞author's note⌝ ﹕ this isn't like the movies, it's a 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 story. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞taglist⌝ ﹕ @aouiaa @kaykeryyy @whoucallingalesbian @taylormarieee @co0kiemuncher @myathegoat @joordynn @iamhellagae @hearts444olivia @ion-news @broskideedle13 @ladyofcain @cheyisagirlkisser

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

˳·˖𖤐 During her childhood, Ellie had a stern and intimidating demeanor that unintentionally scared other kids away. They’d be too scared to approach her, let alone play or talk with her, which left her in solitude most of the time. She got used to playing by herself and spent her recess in the corner of the playground. During lunchtime, she would eat the dino nuggets that her dad had meticulously prepared for her while sitting alone at the lunch table (being picky about food, she only ever had dino nuggets and was firmly convinced that regular nuggets did not taste as good). She seemed to find solace in drawing and would spend hours sketching in her green notebook, lost in her world of imagination.

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe, just maybe, the kids’ fear toward Ellie wasn’t unmotivated. She loved to cause chaos and conflicts among the other kids. She would start small fights, encourage others to fight, push kids off swings, or even break their toys. Even more concerning was that she seemed to get a kick out of other people’s misery and would laugh at their distress and discomfort, which was why many feared and avoided being near her.

˳·˖𖤐 Joel would often find himself rushing to his daughter’s school, trying his best to convince the school officials that his sweet little girl could never do anything to hurt other kids. Despite being smart and quiet, Ellie would sometimes find herself in trouble for things she claimed she didn’t do. She always stood her ground, insisting that if she ever did start something, it was only because another child had done something to her first. And, of course, her father always believed her and would go to great lengths to defend his baby girl.

Once, Joel was called to the principal’s office. When he entered the room, he saw the principal sitting behind his desk, looking stern and serious. Joel's heart sank, he could sense something was off. “My daughter would n—” Joel tried to speak, but the principal cut him off without missing a beat. “The teacher saw her. She pushed Jason off the swing and kicked him,” the principal stated, his tone firm and authoritative. Joel's eyes immediately darted to his sweet little angel, who was crying and pouting, giving him doe eyes as she shook her head to dismiss all the accusations. “No, Dad, I didn’t, I swear. He hit me first,” she said, trying to defend herself. “Heard what she said? She didn’t do it.” Joel always fell for that little dotted face. He would still stand by his beliefs no matter what the teachers or other kids' parents said. His baby girl would never hurt anyone. He couldn’t imagine her doing anything wrong.

˳·˖𖤐 You were never really scared of her—the quiet, introverted girl. In fact, you were quite intrigued by her. She always seemed to be the odd one out, sitting in the corner of the classroom or standing far away across the playground, watching everything and everyone so intently. What really fascinated you about her was her attention to detail. She never missed a thing and could remember every single detail of everything, almost like she had a photographic memory or something. 

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was fascinated with you. Ever since you helped Ellie pick up the pencils she had accidentally dropped, she couldn’t help but notice your gentle and soft smile, and from that moment on, she found herself unable to take her eyes off you. She’d just sit across the room, sipping on her apple juice box as she studied you curiously. To her, you were a delicate and pretty little girl, reminding her of a flower. She had always thought other kids weren’t as bright as her and weren’t good enough to be her friends, which led her to isolate herself from others. She thought of herself as better than everyone her age, and it was also why she would beat them up, finding them too stupid to put up with. But you were different. There was something about you that stood out to her, something that her childish brain couldn’t quite put a finger on. It wasn’t just your kindness, although that certainly played a big part in it. There was something more that made her feel like she wanted to be your friend, your close friend.

˳·˖𖤐 Even as a little kid, Ellie had always been a strategic and calculated person.

One day, she saw you playing in the sandbox and felt the urge to approach you, but she needed an excuse to do so. So, she concocted a plan. She told another kid that you had said something mean about him, knowing that he would confront you about it—Jason was a little of a troublemaker from what she noticed, so she was certain it would work. In fact, when the little boy confronted you, and you denied it, he quickly became angry and pushed you, causing you to fall into the sand. The sand got all over your beautiful frilly clothes, making you feel embarrassed and upset, your bottom lip wobbling. Ellie saw this as her chance to approach you and comfort you. She walked over to you and pushed the other kid, causing him to storm off. She quickly helped you up and offered you a slight smile, “You can’t let other kids treat you like that.” You nodded in agreement, grateful for her help, and threw yourself in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Thank you so much,” you uttered. She nodded and squeezed you, rubbing your back. “Maybe we can watch each other’s back from now on,” she suggested with a shy smile, the one that always fooled her dad as well. You were beyond ecstatic at her offer. You had long admired her from afar, and the idea of being friends with her was something you had dreamed of for a long time, but your shy nature had always caused you to keep to yourself. Even to you, she seemed smarter compared to other kids. “Can you be my friend?” you asked with a toothless grin on your face, batting your lashes at her. “Yes, I would love to,” followed by “Can I show you my dinosaur collection?” From that day on, you and Ellie became close friends, and her strategic and protective nature was always there to help you when you needed it.

˳·˖𖤐 You and Ellie have been inseparable, going through all the ups and downs of school and puberty together. She has been a constant source of support, always by your side through your best and worst days. You have shared countless memories and experiences over the years, and she has always been a true friend in every sense of the word. She was always there to protect you and stood up for both of you in any situation. You did everything together—you laughed, cried, and confided in each other like you were the only two people in the world. You shared all your first-time experiences, like getting drunk for the first time, going to parties, and even sneaking out of your house at night just to see her or hang out. Her father quickly became like a second dad to you, someone you could look up to and trust. You have always felt like a part of their small family, spending time together, sharing meals, and celebrating holidays with them. Your friendship has only grown stronger over the years.

˳·˖𖤐 During middle school, Ellie’s behavior remained consistent. Even in the new environment, she continued to find ways to get herself in trouble. She had a habit of talking back to teachers, getting into physical fights with other students, and arguing with pretty much everyone, almost as if she couldn’t contain herself; causing trouble was second nature to her. It was evident that she found pleasure in disrupting the peace wherever she went, which often landed her in serious trouble. Not that she cared, of course.

“Miss Williams, get your shoes off the desk. You are not at home, and you cannot do as you please,” The middle-aged teacher, who appeared to be in her late fifties, scolded her with a stern voice, her eyes narrowing with disapproval as she spoke. Her wrinkled forehead was furrowed with a frown, and her thin lips pursed tightly together. The teacher’s glasses, once perched on the bridge of her nose earlier, now hung from a chain around her neck as she continued to chastise the auburnette.

With a mischievous smirk on her face, the copper-brown-haired girl replied, “You can bet your wrinkled ass I’ll do as I please,” causing the whole class to erupt in laughter.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger when Cassie, a girl from math class, called you stupid. You were her best friend, and she couldn't bear the thought of someone insulting you like that. She wouldn’t let anyone walk all over you. So, that same day, she approached Cassie after class with a fake calm demeanor and explained that her comments were hurtful and disrespectful. She initially tried to remain ‘polite’ to make you happy, but the situation quickly escalated to a physical fight. Unfortunately, this resulted in Cassie ending up in the nurses’ office with a broken bone. But she couldn’t help it. She had to look out for you, and Cassie fucking deserved it.

˳·˖𖤐 It was always just you and Ellie hanging out together. Other kids weren’t allowed to join you. Everyone in your school thought of you two as weirdos, but you didn’t care, both preferring each other’s company over anyone else’s.

˳·˖𖤐 You spent everyday together, either at her place or yours. Homework, video games, comics, and movie marathons filled your time, but the one thing that truly brought you together was your shared obsession with horror movies. You’d watch a new one each day, feeding off the adrenaline of jump scares and twisted plots. Ellie seemed to devour every film, but her favorites were always the slasher flicks—especially the Scream series. The thrill of being scared out of your mind became your thing. Soon, though, it wasn’t just the horror movies that captivated Ellie. She developed a deep fascination for true crime documentaries, and afternoons blurred into nights as the two of you sat in her room, binging tales of real-life terror, lost in your macabre little world together. You both would sit there, transfixed, eyes glued to the horror playing out on the screen, completely enthralled by the spine-tingling and mysterious events unfolding before you. The chilling stories on the screen drew you in, and your fascination with the morbid and the inexplicable would lead you to spend countless hours online reading creepypastas. 

˳·˖𖤐 You were each other’s first kiss.

One Friday night, you went to Cassie’s house for a small party—yes, the same Cassie that Ellie beat up and broke her arm. You guessed she had invited Ellie to get on her good side, considering their last fight. The poor girl was tired of fearing Ellie, but Ellie didn’t like her one bit and never would. Your best friend was reluctant at the idea of being surrounded by too many people, but you convinced her to go with you, saying it might’ve been fun to do something different for once. They kept teasing you, insinuating that you were more than just best friends. You were always around each other and touchy in ways that made them suspect that you were girlfriends. They noticed how you frequently held hands, hugged, and even kissed each other on the cheek. So, during a truth-or-dare game, they dared you to kiss your best friend. You looked over at Ellie, feeling shy and uncertain. You were waiting for her to say something to stop you from going along with the dare, but to your surprise, she didn’t. In fact, she had a small smile on her face, which made you feel more nervous for some reason. Feeling hesitant, you finally mustered up the courage to ask her, “Can I kiss you?” Your cheeks heated up as you spoke. The freckled girl rolled her eyes, trying to make you feel like you were being dramatic, “It’s just a game.” Finally, you leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the lips. Everyone in the room giggled and clapped their hands, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had changed between you and Ellie, yet neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie had always been very open about her attraction to girls. She never cared about what other classmates might have thought about her preferences. Even though they were not always accepting, they never dared to say anything negative to her face, fearing Ellie’s reaction to their comments. She openly rejected guys who showed interest in her, saying that she was not interested because she was a lesbian. Always commenting about pretty girls—and man, if that didn’t make you jealous. You’d often feel this intense jealousy inside you every time she talked to other girls or whenever other girls would approach her, even if she always rejected them, 99,9% of the time.

˳·˖𖤐 Why 99,9% and not 100%? Well, because another girl named Cat entered the picture. From the very start, it was clear that Cat was head over heels for Ellie, and how could you blame her? She’d blush every time Ellie glanced her way, always laughing obnoxiously at your best friend’s puns, even when they were terrible—and that was, like, all the time. She would also go out of her way to shower her with small gifts, all of which Ellie would accept with a sly grin that you found infuriating. She’d get her snacks and pass her cute little notes during classes, and the worst part was that your friend began to reciprocate Cat’s feelings, and the two of them grew even closer. You tried to accept their ‘friendship’ but found it increasingly difficult; watching them together became too much to bear, and you knew you had to take care of it. You never liked sharing, not even as a kid, so why start now with the most important person to you?

As the lesson dragged on, you grew more restless, your thoughts tangled in a knot of anxiety. You needed to have a little chat with Cat. Urgently. Unable to focus any longer, you raised your hand, asking the teacher if you could go to the toilet. When he gave you a nod in response, you hurried out of the classroom, your pulse quickening as you slipped through the quiet hallways. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small Post-it note, your fingers trembling slightly as you scrawled a quick message:

“Meet me in the bathroom after third period. — Ellie :)  ”

You carefully folded the note and slid it into Cat's locker, hoping she would see it soon. The next few hours felt like an eternity. You kept checking the clock, counting down the minutes until the third period. Finally, the bell rang, and you made your way to the bathroom, hoping Cat would be there. As you entered the bathroom, you saw her standing there with a big smile. The same smile that faded in an instant as she saw you instead of the girl she liked. You greeted her with a mischievous grin and asked her if she was waiting for Ellie. “Yeah, she told me to come here after third period,” the raven-haired girl responded, looking puzzled. “Did she, or did I?” you giggled. Cat took a small step back, suddenly feeling creeped out by the way you were looking at her, almost as if you were planning to hurt her. You had never started fights in school or caused any sort of trouble, though Cat feared you. Maybe it was the endless rude comments you threw her way at any chance you got or the little things you did when Ellie wasn’t watching to make her feel threatened. “Is this some sick joke?” surprise flashed across her features before a more terrorized look replaced it. “Stop seeing her, don’t come near her, stop talking to her, don’t even look her way,” you demanded. Your tone was firm, almost possessive, as you stepped closer. She backed away with each step you took. “Wha-” Cat tried to speak, but you cut her off. “I catch you lookin’ at her again, I won’t be as nice.” you threatened. “I won’t—I’ll stop talking to her,” she stammered nervously, her voice trembling. A few sniffles escaped her before she ran off, mumbling her sorrys on her way out. “I hope you mean it.” She was already out of the bathroom, but you were sure she had heard you loud and clear. And you weren’t even gonna feel bad. She deserved it. How dare she come near the most important person in your life? What was she planning to do? Take her away from you? You sure as hell weren’t gonna let that happen.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was struggling to understand why Cat had suddenly started ignoring her like a deadly disease. It was almost perplexing that the brunette wouldn’t even look at her, and whenever Ellie tried to approach her to talk, Cat would leave the conversation abruptly, only briefly glancing over at her. It was particularly puzzling to the redhead as she could not recall any misunderstanding or disagreement between them that could have caused such a drastic change in Cat’s attitude towards her—for once, she was nice to someone who wasn’t you, and this was the result? She felt confused and soon enough began to harass the girl, making sure her life was a living hell at school. How dare Cat ignore her? She wasn’t even that smart or pretty. Ellie only ever liked the attention she'd get from her; she was there just to boost her ego, and now she was ignoring her?

˳·˖𖤐 As you both entered high school, you remained inseparable, sticking to the shadows for the first few years, trying to blend in and avoid unwanted attention. Neither of you joined clubs or sports teams, preferring to keep to yourselves and steer clear of socializing. But by junior year, the routine started to feel stifling, and restlessness set in. You both realized you wanted more—something bigger than just being on the sidelines. Your best friend took the leap first, joining the soccer team, eager to break out of the monotony and possibly make new friends. She thrived there, quickly falling in love with the game’s intensity and the adrenaline that came with it. She never lost that sense of superiority, though—deep down, she believed she was different, better than the people around her. She stood out, and she knew it. You, on the other hand, joined the cheerleaders team. Dancing and performing had always been a passion, and it seemed like a perfect way to get involved. But as you spent time with other girls, you couldn’t help but notice how wrapped up they were in things that felt trivial to you—obsessed with popularity, looks, and gossip. It was hard to feel like you fit in, knowing damn well you didn’t. While your best friend thrived on her sense of superiority, you were left feeling like an outsider, trapped in a group you didn’t belong in.

˳·˖𖤐 Ever since you joined the cheerleading team, you stood out from the crowd. Your undeniable beauty did not go unnoticed, and soon enough, boys began to show interest in you. Every week, a different guy would try to catch your attention, hoping to ask you out or make a move on you. But Ellie was fiercely protective of you, claiming that none of these guys were good enough for you, whether it was a potential friend or partner. She would always find a way to scare them away, making it clear that you weren’t interested, always there reminding you that you were way too amazing for all of them and that no one could ever understand you like she did, even if they tried. She did not want anyone she deemed unworthy of your time to come close to you, and you liked it that way. To you, that was your definition of love.

“—so he just fell in front of the whole class, he couldn’t even-” You were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from across the room. Your best friend was out sick, missing all the juicy details, but before you could finish the story and turn to see who it was, the auburn-haired girl beside you spun around first. Her brows knit together almost instantly, and you could see the flicker of jealousy in her eyes. Her expression darkened as she processed the moment, clearly thrown off by the sudden attention directed your way. A kid you knew from theater class was walking toward you with a nervous smile, carefully holding a flower, making sure not to prick himself on the sharp thorns of the beautiful red rose. “Hey, I just wanted to ask you if-” He didn’t even need to finish his sentence���she was already prepared to go off on him as if he’d just insulted her entire family. In reality, he hadn’t even noticed a fuming Ellie standing right beside you. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, eyes locked on him with an intensity that made you sure if looks could kill, he’d already be dead. You opened your mouth to say something, but Ellie quickly raised her hand in front of you, silencing you instantly. She was going to handle this, just like always. “What makes you think she would ever go out with a loser like you?” Ellie hurled venomous words his way, leaving the poor guy stuttering and stumbling over his response. His face flushed bright red as if all the blood had rushed to his cheeks. He stood there, frozen in shock, his mouth hanging open like a fish gasping for air. His eyes darted nervously between you and the girl at your side, clearly unsure what to do next. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to express himself, his expression desperate as if he was silently begging for a reaction from you, anything. But before he could even get a syllable out, Ellie cut him off again, shutting him down before he could speak. “Heard what I said? She is not interested,” she repeated, but this time, her voice was tinged with impatience. “I’m sorry, I just—take this.” He handed you the flower, looking utterly defeated. As soon as it was in your hands, he turned around and walked away hastily, like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. She watched the guy walk away, her leaf-hued eyes fixed on him, unwilling to let go of the sight. Her face was slightly scrunched up in annoyance, her mind clearly racing with thoughts as she seemed lost in her world. After a while, she finally tore her gaze away from him and glanced at you briefly as if snapping back to reality. She let out a small ‘tssssk’ under her breath, trying to collect herself and shake off the jealousy lingering in the pit of her stomach. “Jesus, El. You’re evil,” You let out a small giggle and brought your hand to your mouth to cover it up. “Might have to kill half the school just for you,” She suddenly joked with a grin. She snatched the rose out of your hand and threw it on the floor forcefully. Red petals scattered on the ground as you both continued walking. Ellie made sure to stomp on the flower. She always had a very dark humor, which sometimes left you wondering if she meant any of what she said. She always spoke in such a serious tone, but maybe it was just her sarcasm being that way. Her words were often laced with a hidden meaning, and she had a way of making you question your interpretations, but you laughed at her joke anyway.

˳·˖𖤐 So, were you surprised when a few students started going missing? 

˳·˖𖤐 The leader of the cheerleaders that always gave you a hard time? Gone.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was your biggest fan, always showing up to watch your cheerleading practices.  Manspreading on the benches, her gaze never left you, not daring to miss a single move. The sight of you, all sweaty with wisps of hair escaping your ponytail, only made you look cuter in her eyes. She loved seeing you in that little cheerleader uniform. Whenever you smiled and glanced at her, her heart would thunder in her chest. It was as if her whole world revolved around those fleeting glances and spontaneous smiles you’d throw her way. You were awfully adorable.

What Ellie found far less adorable was how the head cheerleader constantly picked on you, always putting you down. What frustrated her even more was that you just let it happen. In her mind, Amanda wasn’t better than you—no one could even come close to you. To Ellie, you were perfect, and she wished you could see it too. When she saw you walking toward her, she quickly set aside the leather-bound journal she had been scribbling in, placing it on the empty spot next to her as she greeted you with a warm smile.

“You’re doing great, beautiful,” She turned to grab her backpack, which had been thrown carelessly on the empty benches behind her. Her tattooed arm reached inside the already unzipped, worn-out bag. “Yeah, you say that, like, every single time.” You sat on the bench next to her, sweat beading on your forehead as you let out a slight huff, feeling winded after your practice. “‘s true though.” She pulled out a small towel and handed it to you with a gentle smile. She was always considerate, constantly looking out for you and ensuring you were taken care of. She expressed her love for you through these little gestures, like bringing things she thought you might need in her green backpack. Her obsession with you was apparent in how she hovered over you, but you couldn't deny that it was comforting to have someone care for you so deeply. That was love—real love—and you had never experienced that from anyone else.

“Goood, you’re so perfect,” you accepted the towel from her outstretched hand and began to pat your forehead, feeling some relief from the heat. But a little towel wasn’t the only thing she brought for you—she also handed you a refreshing bottle of water to quench your thirst and a cherry-flavored lollipop as a little treat. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of that beloved childhood candy in your hand. A soft smile spread across her lips when your words reached her ears, and she looked away, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. Her shoulders lifted ever so slightly in a subtle shrug, “Oh, I know” her elbows propped up on her knees as she leaned forward. She was deep in thought, and her hands were intertwined. You took a few sips of your water and unwrapped a lollipop, both of you fell silent, completely focused on watching Amanda, who was the target of Ellie's intense gaze, she was studying her. “She’s a bitch” the freckled girl next to you muttered under her breath. You hummed in agreement, savoring the sugary goodness. “Why do you even let her speak to you that way?” she shook her head in disapproval, you could feel her gaze on you even if you weren't looking at her. “What do you want me to do? She’s the leader, El. She’ll throw me out of the team if I confront her.” You reached up to your mouth and pulled the lollipop out with a loud smack noise, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. Ellie expressed her disagreement with a small scoff that barely registered on her plump lips, almost imperceptible. She picked up her journal once again and resumed whatever she was doing, and the silence between the two of you fell once again, punctuated only by the sound of the pencil scratching across the page. When you looked down at her journal, you couldn’t help but notice a drawing she was making of Amanda. The drawing portrayed Amanda in a rather disturbing manner, physically harmed with a knife in her chest. The details of the drawing were quite graphic, and you could tell she had put a lot of effort and passion into it. “Oh, well...that's detailed,” you commented, still sucking on your lollipop, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth. You noticed a small curl of her lips as if she felt proud of her drawing skills. “But that’d be too messy,” you added, her head shot up to look at you. “Yeah? How would you do it then?” she asked, almost challenging you to come up with a better idea for the hypothetical scenario. “The bitch’s allergic to almonds,” Your eyes were fixed on Amanda, who was laughing with her friend. Ellie raised her brows at you, an amused smile appearing on her lips. “That’s it? A good ol’ accidental allergy reaction? Where’s the fun in that?” you shrugged at her words. “No blood, no traces, it’d be harder to get caught,” you explained, proving your point. It was logical and more calculative than her hypothesis. “True but stabbing her to death seems funnier, I dunno.” She inhaled deeply, leaning back into her bench, her back pressed on the benches behind her. “Hearing them beg for mercy, scream in pain, and the look in their eyes…” She went on, entirely absorbed in her twisted narration. As she spoke, the details grew darker and more grotesque with each word. You watched her, bewildered, struggling to tell if this was still just a “what if” game. When Ellie finally realized you hadn’t responded, she looked over at you—the familiar warmth in her eyes had drained away, leaving something sharper, emptier, a chill that made you feel as though you were staring into someone else entirely.

“And where would you hide the body?” you asked.

She smiled sadistically, almost as if she already had an answer ready for that question. “I know the perfect place for that kind of thing.” she put down her journal, her emeralds back on you as she told you about the place she had in mind. “No one would ever look there,” You agreed, giving her a nod, the cherry taste of the candy lingering as you let the sweetness melt off your tongue, an amused grin playing at the corners of your mouth. The plan was actually well-thought-out—impressively so.

“I told you,” she said softly, her gaze darted between your lips and the lollipop. “Oh? Want some?” you teased, holding the lollipop just a breath away from her. Slowly, you edged the glistening, saliva-coated candy toward her, and she parted her lips, wrapping them around it, savoring the artificial cherry taste with a quiet hum of satisfaction. Her fingers replaced yours on the stick, her fingertips brushing lightly over yours, lingering just a little too long. She held your gaze, her eyes softened, almost entranced, though the depth of that look was something you couldn’t quite place. In reality, she was gazing at you enamored, her pupils wide open, but you were completely oblivious to her feelings and failed to pick up on her infatuation. Shortly after that day, Amanda was gone. Disappeared into thin air, nowhere to be found. You knew it wasn’t adding up, especially when you asked Ellie about it. She’d be so nonchalant, like she had nothing to do with her it. But you knew she was lying. Did you care about that stupid cunt being gone? Absolutely not. You soon became the leader of the cheerleaders, and everyone looked up to you.

˳·˖𖤐 The girl who was grinding on you at Daniel’s party? Found dead the morning after.

˳·˖𖤐 The first few months of college had set in, and you were already drowning in a sea of assignments and deadlines, feeling overwhelmed and stressed out. To stay close to you, Ellie took the bold step of enrolling in the same college as you. She even went as far as to choose the same major─Psychology─just to be in the same classes as you, ensuring that you both had the same schedule, did the same assignments, and even hung out with the same people. 

˳·˖𖤐 It was ironic, really, how someone as anti-social and apathetic as her would pursue a field that involved studying human behavior and emotions. But she did it anyway because the mere thought of being away from you for even a second was unbearable to her. She didn’t want anyone else to get closer to you or share the dorm with you, so she followed you and moved in with you because no one could take care of you better than her. You both decided to get an apartment together to share the bills and responsibilities of living independently. Your parents were more than willing to support you financially, making sure that you had everything you needed for college and the apartment. You were attached by the hip, and wherever you went, she was there with you, and whenever she wasn't, you became nervous and anxious, wondering what she was doing and if everything was okay. It was as if you had become too dependent on her, and the thought of being alone scared you. But the dependency was mutual; she needed you just as much as you needed her.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was not a fan of parties and preferred staying home, indulging in horror movies while getting high with you. However, when you told her about Daniel’s Halloween party, she knew she had to accompany you to ensure your safety and protect you from any potential creeps. You had been eagerly waiting for Halloween, your favorite holiday, and Ellie didn't want you to miss the opportunity to dress up and have a good time. Despite her initial reluctance, she was somewhat excited, not for the party itself but because she finally had a reason to wear the ghostface costume that had been sitting in her closet, untouched and unused. 

Ellie was already ready, her costume simple but somehow annoyingly perfect—but that was the price that came with being effortlessly beautiful—and her Ghostface mask thrown lazily on her shoulder. She stood at the bathroom entrance, arms crossed, eyes unwavering as they followed you. You slipped into the tight black dress, pulling it into place with a little struggle as it hugged every curve. You, on the other side, loved taking care of every little detail of your makeup and costume, ensuring your appearance was always on point. “I hate these things,” she muttered under her breath, brow furrowed, though her gaze was anything but annoyed as it lingered on your body. With her hip pressed against the doorframe, she watched as you adjusted the neckline, her head tilted to the side, eyes scrutinizing each inch of skin exposed. “Why’d you have to pick something so revealing?” she asked, voice low, almost a grumble. You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s Halloween, Ellie,” you huffed out, “I can wear whatever I want. Don't be such a buzz kill.” “I meant for Halloween parties. Last year, you were that damn sexy nurse. This year, it’s a tight dress. What’s next? A slutty bunny?” the freckled girl quipped, her lips curling up into a wry smile as she raised an eyebrow at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a light chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the small bathroom. “And you’re here complaining,” you retorted with a mischievous grin as you reached for your high heels and effortlessly slid your feet into them. You took a few confident steps towards her, giving her a complete view of your stylish outfit. Her eyes roamed up and down your body. Your dress hugged every curve, revealing just enough skin to accentuate her drool. She licked her lips, imagining what she could do with you in that skimpy outfit, but she had to keep her hands to herself, unfortunately.  “You look fucking amazing.” 

You gave her a soft smile, turning toward the mirror and reaching for your makeup bag on the countertop. “Just need to fix my makeup, and we’re all set,” you informed her, pulling out your favorite berry pink gloss and a tube of mascara, both essentials for tonight. Ellie let out a low chuckle from the doorway, fingers tapping lazily on the frame. “You’re gonna make me want to commit murder tonight,” she joked, eyes flicking over you as you leaned in closer to the mirror. Without looking away from your reflection, you rolled your eyes, your long lashes nearly brushing against your brows. “Oh, shut up. You’ll survive,” you replied, carefully gliding the gloss over your lips. She sighed, tipping her head back against the doorframe. “Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even going. It’s gonna be full of drunk assholes, all crowding around like moths.” “C’mon, El, it’s gonna be fun,” you insisted, catching her eye in the mirror. She rolled her eyes, exhaling dramatically. “Oh, yeah, can’t wait to watch people hitting on you,” she drawled, her voice heavy with sarcasm. You snorted, giving her a smirk as you grabbed your mascara. “Well, thank God I’ll have you by my side, scaring them all away.” “Damn right,” she shot back, and you both chuckled. Finishing up, you turned on your heels to face her, your eyes locking with hers. The two of you were only inches apart now, close enough to share each unspoken word in the air between you. “So, what do you think? How do I look?” you questioned, seeking her approval, though you knew the answer already. Ellie’s gaze drifted over you, her lips twitching into a scoff. “You already know you look hot,” she murmured, unable to hide a small smirk. She seemed momentarily lost as she looked at you, her green eyes flitting from your lips to your eyes, drawn in despite herself. You felt a pulse of satisfaction at her reaction, the way her attention lingered on you. “Ellie…” you murmured, leaning a bit closer, your voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. She licked her lips almost instinctively, her gaze dropping to your glossy ones, and the air between you grew thick, the energy snapping with tension. “...Yeah?” she breathed, her voice barely audible. Her breath hitched as you inched closer before coming to a halt. You smirked, tipping your head to the side. “Can I be your helpless victim?” you teased, catching her off guard with the unexpected line. Ellie’s face contorted into one of confused disbelief, and before you could hold it back, laughter escaped you at her expression. In response, she gave your shoulder a playful shove, rolling her eyes as she fought a smile. “Fuck you,” she groaned, a hint of laughter in her voice, and she ducked out of the bathroom, completely flustered, leaving you grinning after her.

When you arrived at the party, your best friend was glued to your side. She didn’t want you to be alone for even a moment, telling you that she’d stay sober to keep an eye on you in case you decided to drink. However, despite her best efforts, she lost track of you for just a few minutes. When she finally found you, she swore she felt her whole organs sink. You were dancing with a girl. Everything seemed to slow down, and jealousy and pure rage quickly built up inside her as she registered that girl’s hands guiding your hips as she ground on your ass and her lips devoured your neck. When your gaze met hers, you couldn’t help but notice the striking green color of her eyes had turned into an intense, almost ominous shade. Her jaw was tightly clenched, and you could feel a sense of discomfort creeping up on you. It was like you had crossed an invisible line and were now doing something you shouldn’t do. Almost instinctively, you pushed the girl off of you, and before you could give the drunken girl an explanation, Ellie was already walking toward you.

“We’re going back home,” She spoke with a harsh, demanding tone. She grabbed your wrist tightly and forcefully pulled you away from the girl you were dancing with. You didn't even have a chance to say goodbye or explain the situation as she dragged you away.

“Why are you acting like this? Can’t I make friends?” Your words were slightly slurred, the tipsiness settling in as you tried to pull your wrist from her grip, but Ellie’s hold was firm. You didn’t want to leave the party yet; the night had just started and had been so much fun, and her urgency to get you out only made disappointment grow. The music and chatter gradually faded as she dragged you both toward the exit.

“Didn’t look like a friend to me,” she muttered, voice sharp with an edge that cut through your drunk haze. “Looked more like she wanted to fuck you right there in front of everyone—in front of me.” She cast a glance back at the party, the girl long gone already. “Besides,” she added, “—you have me. I don’t see why you need her.” There was an ache in her tone as if she felt betrayed by your actions, a hidden desperation she was trying to keep under wraps. Couldn’t you see? She was right there, ready to be everything you needed, the one person who knew you better than anyone else. You narrowed your eyes, pushing her, testing her. “So what if she did want to fuck me? What are you, my girlfriend?” The words came out in a perfectly thought-out taunt to poke the emotions she preferred to keep hidden under the surface. You couldn’t deny that you’d thought about it too—what it would be like to actually be with her. Her green eyes darkened, shifting from their usual warmth to something intense and possessive, jealousy sparking in the depths. It was rare for you both to argue, but this time it felt like there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface, something that had been sitting there gathering dust, waiting for the right moment to bubble out like scorching lava. There was a palpable tension in the air, more-than-friendly feelings in your eyes. Even a fool would’ve been able to see the unspoken feelings and desires that neither of you could express aloud. Perhaps it was the fear of rejection or the uncertainty of how the other person felt kept you both from taking that step. “I just don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.” She lied, her words sharp, unyielding, and tone laced with frustration and anger. That wasn’t a complete lie, but it was still not the whole truth. She took a slow, deep breath to calm herself down. Gradually, her tense body relaxed, and her previously sharp tone softened. “You’re all I have.” As she spoke again, her eyes, which had been stern, took on a gentler expression, and you could sense vulnerability in her voice, suddenly yearning for ‘reassurance’. “I’m sorry for being rough. It’s just… seeing anyone else with you just… fuck, I don’t know why it pisses me off so much.”  Ellie wanted you to believe she was reacting out of fear because she didn’t want to lose you. But her motives were more complex than that. While it was true that she was afraid of losing you, her actions were purely driven by a sense of selfishness. She strongly believed that you were meant to be together and that it was only a matter of time until you realized she was the one for you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “No one could ever replace you, and I hope you know that.” With a gentle tug of her costume, you pulled her close. Your arms wrapped tightly around her, and you could feel the weight of her body press against yours as she leaned into you. As you held her, you could feel the tension slowly start to melt away, replaced by a familiar sense of safety that usually came with being in her arms. “No, you’re right. I’m not your girlfriend, you can do whatever you want—fuck whoever you want.” Her voice quivered with hesitation, and her heart felt like it was weighed down by a heavy burden. She almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything, the words tasting sour on her tongue. She knew it wasn’t normal to be so possessive of your best friend, no one acted this way toward their friends. So what was she supposed to do? Lock you up in a glass cage and never let you go? Although the idea was tempting she knew she had to set you free─free enough to find someone at least, even if it felt extremely wrong. What were the chances it would last?

˳·˖𖤐 Despite her promise to let you go, to let you be with whoever you wanted, the girl you’d danced with that night was found dead the following day, her body left in a state so brutal it was as if every ounce of someone’s anger had been carved into her. The pieces didn’t quite fit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to confront it—not yet. Maybe it was all just a coincidence, a horrible coincidence.

˳·˖𖤐 And yet, every time the news flashed across the screen or a passing conversation brought it up, her casual comments made your blood run cold.

“Oh, what a shame,” she’d murmur, not a hint of genuine sympathy in her tone.  “Guess this is what happens when you hoe around,” she’d remark, her voice steady, an almost imperceptible smirk ghosting her lips. “Hm… sucks. ‘s not even her best picture,” she’d add, a detached sort of amusement glinting in her eyes.

˳·˖𖤐 When you tried to confront her and ask questions that had been gnawing at your mind, her responses were so calm—too calm, too controlled. Her voice was smooth as she answered, almost as if rehearsed as she tried to make you feel ridiculous for even asking.

“I was with you last night. What are you implying?” she’d say, her tone just soft enough to make you question yourself. “You sound crazy right now,” she’d whisper, eyebrows raised in concern. “Maybe all these murders going on are messing with your head.”

With every word, she seemed to pull you deeper into self-doubt, her gaze softening, her voice laced with an almost painful sweetness. “Are you listening to yourself right now? I love you, but… you’re scaring me. You’re being paranoid.”

˳·˖𖤐 Her words lingered, a shadow in your mind until you couldn’t tell if it was your sanity or hers that was starting to slip.

˳·˖𖤐 The third person to disappear into thin air was your boyfriend.

˳·˖𖤐 Shortly after that heated argument with your best friend, you got into your first relationship. She gave you a little more freedom to talk to people, to socialize, but her jealousy flared whenever she saw you with him—or anyone else, for that matter.

God, why him? she’d ask herself, the question gnawing at her each time she saw the two of you together. He wasn’t exceptionally bright, his style was awful, and, to her, he wasn’t even remotely attractive. Whenever he was around, she’d mock him or throw out casual, biting jokes. She always seemed to be the only one laughing. Strangely enough, her snide remarks never fazed him—he never seemed intimidated by her like other guys who quickly fell away, discouraged or unnerved after a few seconds of her scrutiny. But not him. He stuck around, seemingly immune to her attempts to chase him off. So she took care of him. You were left with nothing but a single message, his name lighting up your screen in a sudden, unexpected end. He said he had to break things off because he was moving out of town, needing a “clean break,” a “fresh start.” The words felt hollow, calculated, and as you read through the message, your emotions twisted—hurt, anger, betrayal, all swirling within you. It was your first relationship, and he had chosen to end it over a text message without any explanation or warning. You felt like you meant nothing to him, and the fact that he disappeared from your life without as much as a goodbye added insult to injury. You were upset, not because you were particularly in love with him, but because you hated the feeling of being rejected. You had always been in control, the one rejecting people, so it was a blow to your ego to be on the receiving end of a breakup. 

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie, of course, had been there for you, providing support and care during this difficult time. She had to be here, because what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't there for you for something she had caused?

She squeezed you tighter, those strong, toned arms wrapping around you with an unbreakable and relentless grip. Her breath was hot on your neck as she murmured against your ear, lips grazing your skin with a smug smirk. “I told you this would happen,” she’d mutter, words slipping out with that intoxicating blend of annoyance and affection. She’d let her slender, cold fingers trace your spine in a way that left a shiver behind, and her hand would possessively rest on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “No one—no one will ever love you like I do. No one knows you like this. He could never do what I can.” “You should’ve known better, angel.” There was a dark satisfaction in her voice, almost sounding like she was taunting you, leaning in just close enough for you to feel the heat of every word against your flesh. “Told you he wasn’t the one for you, baby girl.” 

˳·˖𖤐 Not only did Ellie ensure that your boyfriend would never come anywhere near you, but now she seemed to be spending more time than ever clinging close to you, cuddling with you, and sharing the bed with you—all under the guise of offering you comfort. 

˳·˖𖤐 Your friendship had always been intense and boundaryless, it had never been anything but healthy. And it had always been increasingly clear to anyone looking in from the outside that your relationship was more than platonic. Ellie had always been obsessed with you, and her love for you had bordered on devotion. But while others could see this, you remained oblivious to her true feelings, always wondering if she liked you back.

˳·˖𖤐 And that’s when things started to change. Maybe it was the fact that you now lived together and got to spend every second with each other, or maybe it was the fact that your stupid boyfriend was out of the picture─you weren’t sure, but you didn’t mind, and neither did she. Slowly, it was back to just you and her again. Your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and there were no other distractions. It was just the two of you like it always used to be.

You were leaning back on the couch, a joint held between your lips, your eyes heavy and red as you focused on the big TV in front of you. It was Friday night, a time when everyone else would usually go out, but for you, it only meant one thing: movie night with Ellie. The living room was dark, except for the light cast from the TV, making your faces glow in the darkness. You let out a throaty chuckle, taking another hit before sinking deeper into the couch and passing the joint back to her. You were rambling about random stuff as the movie went on, just filling in the background noise at first. Neither of you was really focused on the movie, too high to pay attention to what was happening on the screen. Your mind was wandering to other places, and it was easy to lose track of the scenes as they unfolded.  But then, a steamy scene suddenly caught both of your attention. You could feel the heat rising from the joint and maybe something else; the smoke filling your lungs and a fuzzy feeling spread throughout your body, filling you with a sense of relaxation and mellow contentment. But there was still a tiny fluttering sensation in your stomach, even though you knew it shouldn't be there. It was a strange feeling, like a soft and unexpected rush of excitement, and it made you feel both giddy and nervous all at once. As you watched the steamy scene playing out in front of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of Ellie licking her chapped and dry lips, her green, dilated eyes fixed like a laser on the screen. Her breathing was slightly faster, and you could feel her body tense up as she watched the scene. She didn’t take her eyes off the screen for a second, as if her life depended on watching it. “Y’know, you were my gay awakening,” she spoke suddenly, her husky voice breaking the silence and snapping you to attention. She stared at you, her eyes lingering on every part of your body before settling back on your face. It was a bold confession, coming out of nowhere, and suddenly, you felt your heart beating faster. A dry chuckle slipped out of you, catching in your throat. Even though you were high and a little out of control, her admission had you feeling speechless. “Is that so?” You ran your tongue across your bottom lip, trying to wet it as your throat suddenly felt parched and your pulse thrummed in your ears, hard and loud. “Hmmm-mmmh,” she hummed lazily in response, sounding almost like a low purr in your ear. Her hand rested on your bare thigh, squeezing gently, her touch delicate but firm. Heat pooled in your stomach almost instantly. “Always thinking of you when I touch myself.” “Show me.” You challenged her with a sultry tone.   Ellie scoffed, her scarred auburn brows lifting in disbelief. Had she heard you right? She swore she was hallucinating. “What?” “You heard me. Touch yourself,” you commanded, your voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. The corners of your lips lifted into a smirk, the confidence in your gaze obvious.

“And you’re just gonna sit there and stare like a creep?” She shook her head slowly, an amused smile on her face as if she wasn’t sure whether to take you seriously. But the soft chuckle and the way her eyes stayed locked on yours hinted that she was not entirely opposed to the idea. “Maybe, maybe not.” You shifted on the couch, turning fully to face her, now closer than ever. Practically in her space, watching her, you could almost feel her heart about to explode. Those little pajama shorts you had on had her captivated. Her eyes kept slipping down, caught on how tightly they hugged your curves, tracing every inch of your legs and hips. She tried to keep her gaze on your face, but it was impossible to stop glancing lower.  “If you do it, I’ll do it too,” you added, your voice dripping with temptation as her silence stretched out. And with that, something in her snapped, a fuse blowing in her mind until the only thing left was pure, raw need. No hesitation, no questions—just her fingers reaching into her waistband, spurred on by that hungry look in your eyes. You both sat there, legs spread, your hands slipping inside your panties, each of you putting on a show for the other.   Ellie’s breath hitched, and her fingers moved with fervor, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by how her parted lips let out shallow breaths, quiet gasps escaping as her hand worked. She moved with purpose, fingers gliding through her wetness, quickening her pace to get you to keep up.  “Do what I do,” she groaned, her voice low and rough. You obliged, your fingers following her frantic rhythm.  “Fuck, Ellie,” you moaned, biting back the whimper that her every move pulled out of you. 

She didn’t miss a thing, loving how you trembled and squirmed under her gaze, your body aching, practically begging. Her wildest fantasies were unfolding right in front of her, and she was greedy, wanting every sound, every gasp, every moan.   “You like that, yeah?” she rasped, her voice so rough it made your walls clench. The empty ache inside you was unbearable, your fingers slippery and soaked as you followed her every twist and stroke. You nodded, desperate, moans spilling out without restraint, each one making her move even faster. The sight of her, her touch, her ragged breaths was dizzying. She wanted to own every second, to make you crave her as much as she craved you. Your needy voice rang out, soft and breathy, “Mmmhh… need more, El.” You sounded so desperate, so whiny, it made her heart race. You were just so fucking pretty, and she couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to have her fingers inside you, feeling every desperate pulse, every needy clench around her as you milked her fingers deliciously. Before she could even process the thought, you slid your other hand down, sinking two fingers past your folds with a soft sigh, filling yourself as deep as you could.  The sight made her breath hitch, a low moan slipping out as she watched, knowing that this image would be carved into her brain forever. She could already feel herself getting off to the thought of this moment, over and over again. Your fingers moved in sync, one hand teasing and torturing your clit while the other pumped inside, stroking that perfect spot that made your thighs tense and shiver. Ellie watched, her brows knitted, barely able to tear her eyes away from your sadly still-covered cunt. “God,” she gasped, her chest heaving as she took in every pretty little expression, every sound slipping from your lips as you finger-fucked yourself. She was beyond turned on, completely mesmerized by how good you looked, and couldn’t hold back any longer. With her hand still buried in her boy shorts, she flicked her clit faster, fingers rubbing in desperate, frantic messy circles as she got swept up in the sight of you. “So fuckin’ needy,” she taunted, her voice low and hoarse.

“Gonna...g’na cum,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut, breaths coming out in short, shaky bursts. In a move that sent a shiver down your spine, Ellie reached out and gently tugged your hand away from your shorts, intertwining her fingers with yours.  “Me too—wanna cum with you, need you close,” she gasped, her words breaking into soft moans as her own high built. She squeezed your hand tight, needing the contact as her hips jerked up, chasing her release. Your other hand kept moving, your fingers hitting that perfect, spongy spot again and again until— “I’m coming!” you cried out, your moans reaching a pitch that filled the room, echoing through the walls, your fingers slamming into yourself as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you. 

“Ooooh fuck!” Ellie groaned, her hips bucking as she rubbed herself faster, her hand squeezing yours hard as she climaxed, her voice hoarse and breathless. 

You sat there, chests heaving, bodies still trembling in the aftermath, catching your breaths in silence as the euphoria slowly faded. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, gradually, reality seeped back in as you both glanced at each other, feeling completely blissful. Her lips pulled into a soft smile, cheeks flushed as her thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand.

Feeling a rush of warmth, you leaned back, wiping your fingers on the soft fabric of your pajama shorts, a quiet contentment settling over you. Ellie tugged gently at your tank top, silently inviting you to come closer. You obliged, sinking into her embrace as she wrapped her arms around you. She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering in her dazed, dreamy voice about how perfect the moment had been, dropping little words of affection she’d usually never say out loud. With the weed still buzzing in her system, it all slipped out way too easily.

You drifted off in her arms, her warmth and steady breaths lulling you to sleep as the TV murmured softly in the background.

˳·˖𖤐 It was as though her infatuation with you intensified after that night, if that was even possible. She couldn’t get you out of her mind, and her focus on every little detail of your appearance became more and more pronounced. You were all she could draw, your lips, your nose, your brows, your eyes. She was convinced that she was the only one who truly appreciated your beauty. She believed that everyone else was too superficial to appreciate you for who you really were. To her, no one else deserved you─not like she did. You were the center of her world, and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were like a drug to her, and she craved you more than anything else, her mind was consumed with thoughts of you.

˳·˖𖤐 There was this sick habit of hers, one that she’d never admit out loud but couldn’t shake. Every night, she watched you as you slept, eyes glued to how your oversized shirt barely hung onto your curves. It was like she was waiting—no, hoping—for that shirt to ride up just a little bit more, enough to give her a full view of those soft legs and the tiny slip of fabric that barely covered you. 

You always seemed so relaxed, so at ease around her, never thinking twice about what you wore, especially when you two shared a bed. You’d just crawl under the covers, no pants, no bra, just that soft, baggy shirt. And every time, it drove her wild. Part of her wondered if you knew exactly what you were doing, the way you’d stretch and twist, giving her those little glimpses that made her pulse race—and to answer her silent dilemma, yes, you were doing it on purpose.  She couldn’t look away. Her hand would slip under her waistband, touching herself as her eyes roamed over you, desperate for more than just a view. She couldn’t resist ever since she admitted she’d been touching herself to the thought of you for as long as she could remember.  Even you could feel the tension every time her eyes lingered on your body or lips. Every time she shifted closer, her fingers grazing your thigh just a little too long just to pull away again, chickening out. All you wanted was for her to close that painful gap, to stop playing around and just touch you the way you knew she wanted to. Every night was a silent invitation, a wordless game where every move you made was another way to get her attention, pushing her until she couldn’t stand it any longer. Ellie licked her lips, her eyes glued to the sight beside her. Watching you sleep like this always turned her on─it was the combination of ‘innocence’, vulnerability, and sheer beauty that did it. The slight roll of your shirt had exposed just enough skin to make her heart race, her mind filled with naughty thoughts. You were never aware of how much she wanted to feel you and touch you inappropriately, but she knew it might ruin your friendship, and she couldn’t risk it.  Feeling her arousal increasing with every passing second, she slipped her hand under the covers. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't be doing this while you were asleep next to her, sleeping peacefully as she came all over her fingers at the sight of your half-exposed body─but that didn’t stop her from doing it anyway. The temptation was too strong, and it was impossible to resist you. “Fuck... You’re killing me…” she thought to herself, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It was late at night, and she couldn't resist anymore.

Without hesitation, she slid her hand into her shorts and started playing with herself. Her green, concentrated eyes never left your body, studying every curve and dip hungrily. Calloused fingers brushed against her sensitive nub gently, her hips slightly jerking away from her hand. She was so sensitive; you had her pussy throbbing like crazy, and the worst part was that you didn’t even do shit. It was her fault, her perverted and filthy mind's fault. But good lord, if she would sell all her organs to touch you. “The fuck are you doin’ to me…” she murmured under her breath as she played with her wetness, feeling how messy you made her. When her fingers returned to her clit, circling it gently, her breath hitched. She knew she had to be quiet; you were occasionally a light sleeper, and she couldn't risk getting caught. She parted her legs further apart as she kept teasing her clit slowly. “God…” She whispered, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps, causing her voice to be soft and sultry as she rubbed herself with increasing tempo. There was no hesitation or inhibition, just raw, unadulterated desire dripping from every fiber of her being. So fucking nasty. She wondered what your reaction would be if you woke up and caught her in the act, but, yet again, there was something exhilarating about the risk, about the idea of you seeing her in the middle of her filthy act. Her face flushed as she imagined this, her mind filled with naughty scenarios as she rubbed herself harder and faster.  “Mmph... so beautiful…” Her eyes never left your body, even while touching herself. For some reason, it felt so good knowing you were just inches away, unaware of what she was doing. She couldn't help but fantasize about you pleasing her—she needed your fingers, you, and she also fantasized about reciprocating the favor.  “Can't wait to taste you... touch you…” She mumbled, lost in her fantasies. Her body trembled slightly from anticipation, she was close. “Mmm... fuck... gonna cum” Her voice was strained, increasing the pressure on her throbbing clit. It was becoming challenging to stay quiet, and she just hoped you wouldn't wake up to this.

When she did come, she pulled her damp and sticky hand out of her boxers, sucking her fingers clean before turning her head slightly to look at you, admire you. You laid there sleeping like an angel, your hair cascading down your face. She watched you with mixed emotions. 

Ellie’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she breathed, and her forehead was damp with sweat, her red-brown hair sticking to her freckled lush skin. Despite the guilt she knew she should be feeling, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She promised herself she wouldn’t do it again, but deep down, she knew it was merely the first of many more. 

˳·˖𖤐 The more she did it, the more confident and bold she became, convinced that you’d never catch her.

˳·˖𖤐 One night, you had a bit too much soda before falling asleep. As the night wore on, you began to slowly wake up, feeling the urge to go to the bathroom.

She was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t notice the slight shift beside her. Your eyes fluttered open just wide enough to catch a glimpse of her hand moving under the covers. Her pale face was flushed, a blush covered her cheeks and her cute nose, her skin coated with a light sheen of sweat. She was biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes tightly shut, trying to keep herself quiet, while her tattooed arm was stuffed deep inside her boxers. Her toned abs tensed up subtly as her perky tits peeked through her black t-shirt, jiggling with every tiny movement she made. Fuck, what a sight. You thought you were dreaming. Hell, you were sure of it. Why would she even do that next to you? You knew you should’ve done or said something, but the sight of your best friend pleasuring herself right beside you only made your pussy throb madly, and the way she dirty-talked to herself to make herself cum. God.

You squeezed your thighs together, pretending to be asleep. Her soft moans made you feel indescribable things, and you felt yourself getting increasingly wet; it felt like torture to lay there and pretend to be asleep while she pleasured herself like that, but at the same time, it was addictive.  So, instead of confronting her, you decided to play along. Wearing slutty thongs to bed became your new routine, and of course, it didn’t take Ellie too long to notice. Some nights, you could feel her lifting your beloved oversized shirt up just a bit to take a better look at your body. It was hard to suppress a smile, but you managed.

“A fucking thong, really? God.” you could hear her mutter quietly.

She’d mumble random shit like, “Wanna fuck you real bad,” when she was close to her orgasm. 

You’d often shift a bit too close to her to make her freak out, interrupting her imminent orgasm. It was entertaining hearing her panic and freeze. The little sigh of relief she'd let out when she looked over you to make sure you were ‘sleeping’ was even cuter to you.

˳·˖𖤐 One day, while doing the laundry, your eyes caught a flash of red fabric peeking out of her sweatpants, tucked deep inside the pocket. A brief moment of recognition made you realize it was your thong, one that you had lost long ago. And you remembered vividly how you had always wondered where it had gone. You knew Ellie had something to do with it—indeed, you were not wrong. “Perv,” you let out a breathy chuckle as you withdrew the thong from her pocket and tossed it inside the washing machine. 

˳·˖𖤐 Though you couldn’t say shit. You weren’t really in a position to, not when you had stolen her boxers—the very ones she had made a mess of the other night, getting off to your ‘innocent’ form in that thong, all sprawled out for her eyes only. Unlike her, you had tucked it away, ensuring she’d never find it—in your bottom drawer, buried beneath a pile of neatly folded clothes.

˳·˖𖤐 Everything had been rainbows and roses since your boyfriend was out of the picture, leaving Ellie with you all to herself, just as she liked it. She’d half-expected this wouldn’t last forever, but she didn’t think it would unravel so soon, too soon.

After your shower, wrapped only in a towel, you realized you’d forgotten to grab fresh clothes. Too lazy to trek back to your room, you decided Ellie’s closet would do just fine. “El! I’m borrowing your clothes!” you called out, already swinging open her closet door without waiting for a response. The woody, warm scent of her filled the small space, mingling with the crisp smell of laundry detergent.

Your gaze drifted downward, catching on a gym bag lying half-zipped. The black fabric looked dull under the dim light, but something about it drew you in. There were dark stains on the shirt peeking out—a rusted, dried red that had you swallowing hard. Right next to it sat a Ghostface mask, its hollow, grinning face staring up at you, taunting you, like it knew something you didn’t. 

Just then, Ellie’s voice cut through the silence, a little too rushed, a little too panicked. “Wait, I’ll get it for you!” You heard her footsteps nearing, but by the time she appeared in the doorway, you were already crouched down, inspecting the items, your fingers clutching your boyfriend’s shirt—now stiff with dried blood—and a stained knife in the other.

She froze, her already pale face drained of color as your eyes met. She didn’t say a thing, didn’t try to explain or reach out. She simply stood there, like a deer caught in headlights, waiting for you to make the first move.

“What the fuck?” you choked out, anger tangling in your throat. Your voice cracked, but you didn’t let it stop you. “Why do you have this, Ellie?!” The words were sharp, edged with accusation, and your fingers tightened around the shirt, clinging to the blood-soaked fabric like it was proof of a reality she couldn’t deny. 

Ellie flinched, cursing herself for not getting rid of that piece of evidence. Maybe it was the procrastination, or perhaps she was just too wrapped up in you—you had that effect on her. Her expression flickered between panic and something else, something guarded, as if she were mentally scrambling to find the right lie to feed you.

“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.” Her voice was low, almost eerily calm, meant to keep you from losing your mind and freaking out even more, but it was doing the opposite. “Sit down. I can explain. I promise.” She inched closer, coaxing you back toward her bed, trying to control the situation, as if talking you down would make all of this disappear. But you stepped away from her, backing toward the closet instead.

“Then fucking explain,” you demanded, your voice rising, heat flooding your cheeks as your pulse hammered. Your eyes trailed down to the Ghostface mask lying on the floor, and you kicked it toward her. “What the hell are you doing with all this shit? With my boyfriend’s shirt?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected you, as if that made a difference in the moment. But she cared enough about it to not hold her tongue. You scoffed in disbelief at her correction, and your stern look only prompted her to keep talking, desperate to answer your question. “I found it in the trash,” she began, her tone too smooth, her words practiced. “I was going to take it to the cops.” But you both knew that was a shitty excuse. The explanation hung in the air, feeble and hollow, cracking under the weight of your inquisitor glare.

“That’s a fucking lie, and you know it,” you spat, tightening your grip on the knife, its sharp tip now aimed right at her. 

“Just sit down, please. I’ll tell you everything.” Her words spilled out, each one more frantic than the last, thick with desperation as she inched closer, hands reaching out like she was steadying herself—or preparing to corner you.

You held your ground, pressing your back into the cold closet door, “No, fuck that!” you snapped, refusing to let her control the moment. Her jaw tightened, and in an instant, she lunged forward, catching your wrist and forcing it up against the wood, pinning the knife-holding hand in place.

“Listen to me!” she growled, her voice growing louder, almost vibrating with a tension that rippled between you, making you quiver. Her face was close, too close, so close that her warm breath hit your face, and her eyes locked onto yours, wild verdants unwavering, staring into your dilated pupils.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you shouted, fury shaking the air between you as you pulled at her iron-tight grip. But it was useless. You were sick of her lies, of her half-truths. All you truly desired was for her to lay it all bare for you ‘cause you weren’t fucking dumb, and deep down, you knew it. You had known all along. Her grip only tightened, her knuckles turning white against your skin as her breaths came fast. This Ellie was raw, untamed—a far cry from the girl you had around every day. But in this harsh intensity, there was something real, something you’d been craving for.

“You wanna know the truth? Fine!” Her voice rose, each word bitten off, hard enough to make you flinch. She gazed down at the bloodstained shirt sprawled across the floor, her face hardening, “Yeah, that’s his. And yeah, that’s his blood. He deserved what he got.” 

“What the fuck, Ellie, you had no fucking right—” She slammed her other hand against the wooden surface of her closet door, inches away from your head, causing you to cut off your words before they could be fully uttered.

“He was cheating on you!” she interrupted you, her voice rough with anger, her face flushing red. “I saw him, alright? With that girl from the bar—the one you were always paranoid about. I fucking saw him with her. So yeah, I followed him, and things got… out of hand.”

You scanned her face, searching for any hint of regret or guilt, but all you found was a complete lack of remorse, an expression that only seemed to scream she’d do it all over again if she could. But it was exactly that thing in her eyes that pulled you in even more. “Then why not just tell me?” 

Why couldn’t you fear her? Why weren’t you grossed out? Shouldn’t you have had a typical reaction to her revelation, like screaming or crying over the brutal murder of your boyfriend? Instead, here you were, feeling oddly fascinated, giddy even.

“I wanted to,” she admitted, her voice a little raspier, her eyes glistening with what looked like tears—fake ones. The sudden empathy felt odd, something that didn’t belong to her, and you knew her too well for this shit. “But then I saw you, finally free, happy without him dragging you down. I thought I’d done you a favor. And then I just… couldn’t say it.” 

You pressed yourself harder against the closet door, staring at her like you were seeing her for the first time. You shook your head, “You’re lying,” you stated flatly, watching her mask drop.

“What? You think I’d lie?” she shot back, trying to twist the situation, like you were crazy for even suspecting her. But you knew better. Psychology classes were really paying off.

“Yes, Ellie, you’re lying.” you leaned in, and her jaw clenched as you continued. “You did it to Amanda and that girl at the party? You think I don’t remember that night? Just admit it!” You practically yelled, and a shadow passed over her face like an ominous cloud, her expression hardening again, her eyes growing cold, dark in a way that caught you off guard. One thing was for sure—there was a certain beauty in the way her captivating jade orbs effortlessly switched between the deceptive facade and the cold, calculated gaze of a serial killer. 

“Admit what?” her tone was mocking, like she was daring you to say it.

“That you—” The words stuck in your throat, your gaze slipping to the Ghostface mask on the floor. That’s when she ripped the knife out of your hand, her grip firm as she held it close to you, not quite pressing it into your skin, just close enough to see if it’d rattle you.

“C’mon,” she murmured, leaning in with that daring, dark smile, “say it.” Her eyes flashed with an edge of mania like she was enjoying this, feeding off your reactions, like some sick parasite.

“You killed them all.” you managed, voice barely a whisper, and she threw her head back in a laugh that sent chills down your spine.

“God, do you hear yourself? You sound pathetic,” she chuckled darkly, her knife tracing a line along your cheekbone, slow enough to make you shiver, close enough to cause goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Your chest tightened, your heartbeat loud in your ears as her lips curled in that contorted smile. ​​Your breath hitched as she leaned in, her gaze piercing through your irises, capturing every fleck of color.

“What? Gonna kill me now?” you breathed, your words almost taunting, a faint smirk pulling at your lips as her eyes narrowed.

She tilted the knife against your throat but still put no pressure. You felt yourself leaning into it, letting the thrill course through you and that familiar excitement growing in your tummy. “Gonna make me?” she whispered, voice thick and low, and for the briefest moment, her composure cracked—just enough for you to see her desperation, like she was hanging onto a thread. She needed you to stay, even after all this. She couldn’t live without you.

“I just want the truth,” you uttered, your voice soft, never breaking eye contact. And if you did, it was only to let your eyes drop to her lips, she was so tantalizingly close that it was impossible not to. “Drop the mind games. I want the truth.” You didn’t know how the hell you could still want her, adrenaline tangling in your chest, but you did. Maybe even more than before.

Her brows rose in mock surprise as she cocked her head. “You want the truth?” she echoed, lips parting in a cold smirk. “Fine. Yes, I killed your stupid fucking boyfriend. He died like a pussy,” she sneered, anger flashing as she clenched the knife, thinking of his hands on you, touching what had always belonged to her.

“Why?” you whispered, watching her like you were peeling away her layers, seeing her stripped of all pretenses.

“Why do you think?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes like it was obvious.

The words that tumbled from your mouth after her revelation left her almost astonished.

“How’d you kill him?” then, with a morbid fascination you added, “What did it feel like?” your head tilted slightly to the side. 

˳·˖𖤐 The more she went on and on about the macabre details, the more it turned you on. She was taken aback by your enthusiasm and curiosity, the specific questions flowing from your lips with an unsettling calm that she struggled to comprehend. It was almost as if you were savoring every twisted word that came from her. She couldn’t wrap her head around how her dark confessions had led to this moment—both of you naked, with you perched on top of her.

Ellie was gorgeous—way too gorgeous to be a serial killer, or a psychotic person. She was even more gorgeous beneath you, auburn strands of hair splayed across the pillow, messy but not as messy as her dripping pussy. Her breath hitched as your fingers tightened around the handle of her switchblade, the cold metal gliding from her neck down to her chest, drawing lazy white scratches all over her alabaster skin.

A low, frustrated groan escaped her lips as you drew lazy circles around her areolas with the sharp point of the knife, watching with satisfaction as her pink nipples hardened, standing at full attention for you, as hard as rocks and begging to be tortured. You could feel her grow restless beneath you—her hips bucking in a desperate attempt to grind against your pussy, but you lifted yourself ever so slightly, just enough to deprive her of the friction she craved.

“Desperate?” you mocked, your bottom lip jutting out in a cruel pout. Ellie’s eyes flicked up to yours, glazed with lust and frustration, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. A cocky front, even now. But it was just a front, she was so fucking weak for you.

“Yeah,” she rasped, her voice betraying her need, but her eyes showed a glint of defiance. She couldn’t resist trying to fight back. “But you’re dragging this out like a coward.”

You hummed sultrily, letting the blade press just a little harder against her dotty complexion—not enough to cut, but enough to leave faint red marks across her flesh. “Oh, you think you’re in a position to talk back?” you spat, your free hand pinning her wrist above her head as she squirmed. “You’re fucking sick, Ellie.”

“Like you’re any better,” she sneered, though her voice trembled as the tip of the knife traced down her sternum toward her stomach. Goosebumps rose on her sun-spotted skin as her breathing became more erratic, her hips lifting in vain again to seek the friction you kept cruelly out of her reach.

“Not the one going around killing people, am I?” you snorted, the blade now grazing and lingering just below her belly button.

Ellie’s defiance cracked, her voice weaker, more fragile as she muttered, “I did it for you.” it made your heart skip a beat or beat faster—you really couldn’t tell from all that adrenaline clouding your rational thoughts.

“You’re trembling,” you noted with a sly smirk, her cocky grin faltering as the knife inched lower, closer to where she needed you most. Ellie bit her lip hard, a needy whimper slipping through despite her best effort to stifle it.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, one hand reaching up to rest on your hip. Her touch sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help but lower yourself closer, pressing your body against hers. 

A wicked smirk tugged at your lips, pride swelling in your chest at the sight of her—the usually cold, calculated killer, reduced to this. All because of you. Seeing her this weak for you truly made you want to do the unholiest things to her, things you knew she would never forget about. You tossed the switchblade aside, forgotten as soon as your lips descended on her neck, sucking dark spots on her soft flesh. You let your teeth sink in, biting just hard enough to get a soft sound out of her. The auburnette was so desperate and sensitive that everything seemed to make her moan—every brief touch, every kiss, even your breathing fanning over her skin. She was already half-gone, and you were barely even getting started.

Her skin flushed beneath your lips as you kissed your way down her body, taking your sweet time, savoring each second of her squirming beneath you. Her breaths grew more ragged, her thighs twitching as you moved lower. Ellie’s body was a temple, and right now, it was all yours to worship.

She’d killed for you, it was the least you could do. So, was romance really dead?

˳·˖𖤐 You’d never imagined Ellie would care that much, never thought she’d be capable of that level of obsession. And you didn’t mind it one bit. No, quite the opposite. The realization only made your pussy throb madly, heat pooling between your thighs as your mind replayed her confession over and over like a broken record, focusing on the brutal details she had given you. It wasn’t just the idea of her killing—it was that she did it because of you, because she couldn’t let anyone else have you.

Every single muscle in her body tensed, her legs trembling as you hovered right above her hairy mound. You could see it—the way her wetness coated her folds, her pink clit, swollen and impatient, her pussy practically begging for attention, and it only made you want to tease her more. Your thumb teasingly drew tight, gentle circles on her aching nub, making her whimper almost exaggeratedly.

“Aww, look at you…” you purred, retracting your hand, your voice low, honed in sweet mockery. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over her sensitive skin. “Soaking wet, desperate for me to touch you. Gonna start begging now?”

Your words made her whine, her resolve crumbling more with each passing second—not that there was any left. Her body betrayed her, hips lifting toward your face, her need palpable. But you weren’t done playing with her yet. You had all night ahead.

Your arms curled around her toned thighs, pulling her closer as you knelt at the edge of the bed, your face mere inches from her pussy. You could see how wet she was, how desperate she had become—there was even a dark wet patch on the sheets beneath her. You smirked up at her, eyes locking with hers as you lowered your mouth to her slick folds. With the tip of your tongue, you spread her moistened lips, and it was enough to make Ellie’s entire body jolt, a choked moan tearing from her throat as you tasted her, her sweet juices coating your lips as you lapped at her with slow, deliberate cat licks.

Ellie’s head fell back against the pillow, her hands gripping your hair with white-knuckled desperation as you ate her out, tongue flicking over her clit every now and then with just enough pressure to drive her mad. You sucked, your lips closing around her swollen bud, and Ellie’s back arched painfully off the bed, her thighs trembling around your head.

“Fuck… fuck…” she gasped, her hoarse voice scratching her already dry throat as her hips bucked uncontrollably and you held her down, refusing to let her squirm away from the relentless onslaught of your mouth.

You smirked against her, the vibrations of your giggle only making her moan louder. “Look at you, El,” you teased, your voice muffled between her thighs. “So sweet ‘n perfect f’me,”

You didn’t wait for a response, diving back in, your tongue swirling around her clit as you slipped two fingers inside her, curling them with brutal precision, finding that sweet spot that had her toes curling, her breath catching in her throat. Her gummy walls clenched around your fingers, and you could feel how close she was, her legs shaking violently.

Ellie’s moans grew louder, more frantic, her hands tugging at your hair hard as she tried to ground herself, grinding against your tongue. But you didn’t slow down—if anything, you fucked her harder, your fingers pumping into her fast and deep, your mouth never abandoning her needy clit, your nose buried in her trimmed bush.

“Beg me,” you commanded as you pulled away to breathe, her core swallowing every inch of your fingers greedily. All those years of plugging her fingers deep inside her wet cunt imagining they were yours instead were so worth the wait.

“I—fuck—” the green-eyed girl’s breath caught, her body shaking uncontrollably, her voice barely a whisper now. “Please… please…” She couldn’t even fucking function; you had reduced her to a broken mess.

“Can’t hear you,” you prompted her, your fingers plunging deeper, harder, until her back arched off the bed, a cry of pure need tearing from her throat.

“Fuck! Please, I need it—I need you—fuck, I’m so close!” she sobbed, her voice cracking as her orgasm crept closer, promising her to see stars, but you weren’t about to give her what she wanted—no, not yet.

You grinned wickedly, pulling your fingers out of her soaked pussy just before she could. A strangled, frustrated sob escaped her plump lips as her body writhed beneath you, her orgasm stolen, leaving her aching and needy.

“Aw, you’re not so smart, are you? You really thought I was going to let you come?” You leaned in, pressing your lips to her ear as you whispered, “Oh no, El… we’re just getting started. You’re not going anywhere.”

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie’s eyes widened with a mixture of frustration and confusion as you told her you’d let her come after you were done using her. You reached for your favorite strap-on, adjusting the harness until it sat snugly around her hips. Her wrists were bound securely to the headboard, the cuffs’ soft, fluffy lining pressing firmly against her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as the realization dawned on her, her eyes darting between the toy and your wicked grin. 

Her pupils were blown with lust as she watched you lower yourself onto her, the thick silicone toy sliding in with ease after you’d teased your throbbing bud with its tip. Her hands twitched, desperate to reach out, to touch you, but she couldn’t do much with the handcuffs keeping her wrists locked to the bed, the soft restraints holding her firmly in place. She watched with wide eyes as her cock stretched your needy, wet heat, sliding in and out. At first, your movements were slow and teasing, letting her take in every inch, but it didn’t take long before you picked up the pace, your body already accustomed to its size, moving with a frantic, eager rhythm.

“Fuuuck…” you panted, rolling your hips against the toy, your breath hitching as that familiar feeling built in your stomach. Ellie’s gaze was glued to you—your bouncing tits, your parted lips, the way your body moved smoothly above her. She wanted to touch, to feel you, but all she could do was watch as you used her, as you fucked yourself on the strap like she wasn’t even there. It was cruel, truly. Her body trembled with need as she watched you lose yourself in the overwhelming pleasure, her pussy throbbing with unmet desire as yours seemed to suck the toy deeper, and for a moment, she swore she could feel your walls tightening around her—perhaps it was the desperation playing a sick joke on her. She couldn’t help but let out a moan.

˳·˖𖤐 She had tried begging but she’d only be met with things such as:

“Cry about it,” you sneered, your voice cold and mocking as you watched her squirm restlessly beneath you.

“You’re such a fucking crybaby,” you murmured, fingers gripping onto her chin and forcing her to look at you as if her desperation was nothing more than a joke to you.

“I’m putting up a whole show for you, and you’re still complaining,” you chuckled darkly, a twisted satisfaction curling at the corners of your mouth as you looked down at her, reveling in her helplessness, your wetness dripping down the harness, making a mess on top of her.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice cracking as she thrusted up. Mewls slipped out of your soft lips as the tip of her silicone cock hit your cervix, desperation written all over her flushed face. “Please let me touch you... let me do something...” Her voice hitched as she choked on a sob, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her glassy eyes locked onto yours, her cheeks streaked with the remnants of her pleas. “Fuck, I can’t—” she cried out, voice breaking again, her head tilting back as she tried to hold herself together. Her gaze flickered back up to you, trailing to your chest, lingering there hungrily. Bushy brows furrowed with longing as she licked her chapped lips.

But you weren’t listening. You were too lost in the pleasure of fucking yourself on her, your head thrown back, sobs pouring from your lips as the strap-on hit that perfect spot against your cervix. Your movements grew more frantic, hips slamming down harder, faster, the toy sliding in and out of your slick folds with ease. The wet sounds of your arousal filled her room, mixing with the desperate, needy gasps that escaped Ellie beneath you, her fingers curling into fists as the cuffs dug into her velvety skin, promising bruises she’d feel long after this was over.

Her eyes glazed over, chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched you ride her with reckless abandon. The sight of you, your body glistening with sweat, pretty tits bouncing with every thrust, was too much for her. She was on the edge, teetering, her body aching to release, but you wouldn’t let her. You wouldn’t let her do shit.

Ellie groaned, frustration and lust mixing in her voice as she bucked her hips uselessly beneath you, trying to gain even a fraction of relief from the sight of you fucking yourself senseless. “Please… please, I’m begging you,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse and broken, and god if it nearly made you squirt. “I need it—I need to come, please…”

You smirked down at her, not stopping, your hips grinding harder, riding the strap with everything you had. You leaned down, your breath hot against the shell of her ear as you whispered, “You’re not coming until I say you can. You’re going to sit there and watch me get off, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.” Cruelly pressing damp and sloppy kisses on the column of her neck, kisses that had her gasping pathetically.

˳·˖𖤐 And it went on and on, her eyes locked on the sight of your milky cum dripping down the thick, black strap, each drop making her bite back a groan. She wished she could taste you. Every time she tried to move or squirm too much for your liking, you’d smack her hard across the face, or switch to a new position just to tease her even more, making sure you were giving her the best view. It was only after the fifth—or maybe the sixth—orgasm that you finally uncuffed her.

The moment her wrists were free, she flipped you over, quick as lightning, giving you no time to react. She pinned you beneath her with a mischievous glint in her eyes, you looked up at her, panting and spent, your brows knitting together in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. She just smirked down at you, spreading your trembling legs apart with ease, her grip firm and unyielding.

“Oh fuck, no—” you gasped out, trying to squirm away as she wrapped her hand around the slick toy, guiding it right back to your abused entrance. She knew she could probably come right then, grinding against the back of the strap, but the thought of pushing you past your limits was far more thrilling. 

“You’re not stupid enough to think I’d let you go so easily, right?” she repeated your earlier words, her voice low and dangerous as she lowered herself over you, your sweaty bodies pressing together. “Didn’t you wanna be my helpless victim, babe?”

The redhead pushed in relentlessly, forcing your pulsating walls to swallow every inch, your back arching as she made you hold on just a little longer. Before long, your legs gave out beneath you as she pounded into you from behind, each thrust deep and brutal, your cheek pressed into the soft mattress. Her hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a sharp sting that burned like a bitch. The smacks kept coming, over and over, until your skin was bruised and your body was shaking with overstimulation. “This is for leaving me high and dry,” she hissed, her voice rough with frustration and desire, slapping the same bruised spot again and again, until you knew you’d be sore for days, unable to sit down.

˳·˖𖤐 When it was finally over, the two of you laid tangled together, breathless and sticky. Ellie’s chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing, but a question lingered in her eyes—one that seemed to claw at her even now, despite everything you’d done to show her you weren’t running, that you weren’t disgusted by her nature. You had never been, for the matter, even when you were kids.

“You’re not gonna tell on me, yeah?” she rasped, her voice rough, her grip tightening possessively on your hip while her other hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Her touch was surprisingly tender, contrasting with the weight of her words, like she was scared to hear your answer. It made your heart swell knowing she feared losing you so badly.

But you were so drunk of the overwhelming contentment that you barely registered the tension in her voice. Instead, a sleepy smile tugged at your lips, and you blurted out, “Wanna be my girlfriend?” The question slipped out before you could think, your gaze locked onto her freckled face, admiring every angle and curve, the way the warm dim light softened her expression.

Ellie blinked, caught off guard, before a playful smirk curved her lips. “I am your girlfriend,” she gave your hip a gentle swat that made you chuckle softly, the sound mixing with the quiet hum of the fan.

“Y’know…you’re right,” you mumbled suddenly. Her hand drifted to your back, scratching lightly, soothing you as your body relaxed into hers. You turned your head, meeting her soft eyes again, while something darker flashed in yours. “He fucking deserved what he got,” Your voice was low, carrying a finality that made Ellie’s breath hitch. It was all the reassurance she needed. A wide grin spread across her face, her eyes lighting up with something almost feral, a giddy kind of joy. It was a smile so genuine, so purely her, that it was impossible to resist leaning in to kiss her, your lips meeting hers in a messy, heated kiss. 

“But yeah, if you leave me I’m gonna tell on you.”

˳·˖𖤐 She had gotten clingier and more eager after that night, always looking for an excuse to touch you, to keep you within reach. Whenever you went somewhere, Ellie trailed right behind you, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave your side. And honestly, you loved it—you thrived on bossing her around, enjoying how she would drop whatever she was doing just to be with you. If the two of you were inseparable as friends before, it had only gotten worse. Not that the obsessive, morbid love wasn’t there before, but now you both let it show, with no boundaries left to be set, no rules, just whatever twisted thing you both had become together.

˳·˖𖤐 Time flew by, and soon Halloween rolled around again, your favorite holiday. Ellie knew it, too, and she didn’t even try to say no when you convinced her to tag along to a party you’d been invited to. It was supposed to be a small, “close friends only” type of thing, but you dragged her with you anyway, making it clear you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Plus, you’d been at each other’s throats lately, bickering more than usual, and she didn’t want to risk making you any angrier. It was either coming along without putting up a fight or dealing with the idea of you going solo—knowing she’d just end up following you like the little creep she was, lurking in the shadows, making sure no one even dared to touch you.

˳·˖𖤐 The party turned out to be better than either of you had expected. A few drinks in, and you both started to loosen up, Ellie sticking close, practically attached to your side with some invisible rope. It was like she couldn’t let you out of her sight, even for a second, her hand always finding its way to your back or waist, keeping you close. You danced together, swaying in the colorful, pulsing lights, your bodies brushing intimately against each other. Her eyes stayed glued to you the whole time, like you were the Holy Mary herself, and she just couldn’t get enough. You reveled in her devotion, the way her grip on your hips would tighten as you moved. It was such a turn-on.

Eventually, the party began to wind down, and it wasn’t long before it was just the two of you left with Allison and her boyfriend, Lucas. The four of you gravitated toward the kitchen, where Ellie leaned against the counter, elbows propped up on the cold granite. She played with the knives, her fingers casually tracing the handles, sliding them in and out of the block absentmindedly.

Allison scrolled through her phone, her brown eyes squinting at the screen’s dim glow. “Another guy went missing,” she announced, her voice wavering as she scanned through the article. “I bet Ghostface has something to do with it.”

“Tragic,” Ellie muttered, her tone devoid of sympathy. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. You watched her, catching the unsettling indifference in her voice. When she noticed your gaze, she raised an eyebrow in mock innocence, daring you to question her. Instead, she shrugged. Allison went on and on about how creepy it was that Ghostface could be literally anyone, her voice holding a mix of fascination and fear. 

“I mean, think about it,” she said, eyes wide as she gestured dramatically. “It could be your neighbor, your friend, even someone you totally trust! Just wearing that mask and knife in hand, ready to strike any moment. It’s so fucked up!” As Allison thought about the countless times she had passed by potential killers, she couldn’t help but shudder in fear at her luck. How many times had she walked down a dark alleyway, taken a walk alone at night, or even trusted the wrong person? The thought of her mortality sent a chill down her spine and made her wonder how long her luck would hold out.

“Yeah, it’s scary,” you hummed, but then the conversation shifted back to the guy who had gone missing. 

“You’ve got to be dumb to get killed like that, though,” Ellie scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. “Came all the way from Michigan just to end up dead? Pathetic. Guess all those muscles didn’t help much.”

Allison frowned at Ellie’s lack of empathy, but she shrugged it off, scrolling through her phone for more details, her thumb flicking faster across the screen. “That’s… awful,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced over at Lucas, who seemed unfazed by the conversation.

Lucas noticed your look and mistook it for unease. “You okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. “Want a drink or something?”

You nodded, playing into his kindness. “Sure, thanks.”

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Allison’s head before heading to the kitchen, leaving you, Ellie, and Allison alone in the dim living room.

“Wait—” Allison’s brows knitted in confusion, her voice soft but growing with unease. “How’d you know he was from Michigan? It doesn’t say anything about…” Her voice trailed off as she continued scrolling, her eyes flicking back and forth over the screen, trying to make sense of what Ellie had just casually dropped.

Ellie’s smile barely flickered. “Just a guess,” she replied smoothly, her gaze icy and unbothered, creeping Allison out.

You chuckled at the exchange, and Allison turned to you with a confused look. “C’mon, cheer up, Allison! We’re just messing with you. Can’t you take a joke? It’s Halloween!”

Allison’s frown deepened as she glanced between you and Ellie, her eyes clouding with suspicion. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the unsettling vibe. “You two are… really something,” she said, brushing it off, not wanting to overthink it. Maybe paranoia was just doing her dirty. Oh, if she only knew.

Ellie smirked, she leaned forward, her voice dropping low. “Oh, you have no idea,” she whispered, her tone laced with something dark and final, a warning the girl didn’t quite catch.

Lucas handed you the drink, his face lighting up with an easy smile, completely unaware of the exchange. 

“You guys wanna play a game?” you asked, grinning at Allison and Lucas. The suggestion hung in the air, deceptively playful. Allison exchanged a look with Lucas, her unease melting a bit, as if convincing herself she was just imagining things.

She forced a smile. “Sure. What kind of game?”

Ellie’s grin widened, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “How about something… fun?”

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe it was the thrill of the game or the intoxicating rush of chaos, but after a few questions were answered and it was your turn, your eyes widened in shock as the blade pierced your stomach. Time seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with Ellie, and what you saw there sent a chill down your spine—your girlfriend’s eyes were empty, devoid of emotion—not even guilt shone in her eyes. It was like staring into a void. 

Blood poured from your mouth, warm and sticky, and panic coursed through you. When a week ago she had suggested trying something new, never did you think that would lead to this—her knife buried deep inside your insides, and blood pouring out of you like a crimson-tainted waterfall.

“W-why…?” you choked on your own blood, the words barely audible but with the stillness of the room, they seemed to echo louder. 

Allison and Lucas stood completely frozen, utterly speechless, their bodies rigid with shock as they watched the horrific scene unfold before their eyes, feeling useless and not knowing how to stop it. The crimson blood pooled out of your wound, soaking the fabric of your shirt, while Ellie’s gloves gleamed with a sinister shine. The red wasn’t so visible against the darkness of her attire, but it was there, unmistakable. 

“It was the wrong answer, babe,” Ellie whispered, her words dripping with a sickening sweetness that made your skin crawl, and the innocent faint smile on her face made Allison want to rip her hair out. 

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Allison screamed, her voice laced with disbelief, her eyes wide as she took a shaky step back.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Lucas followed, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and anger, trying to process the madness unfolding in front of him.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING MONSTER!” Allison yelled, her voice cracking as she cried, her hands shaking.

Your body hit the floor with a heavy thud, and through half-lidded eyes, you saw the panic set in as Allison and Lucas before you stopped breathing entirely. They scrambled for the door, nearly tripping over themselves. Allison’s frantic, manicured hands rattled desperately the knob, her voice shrill as she screamed for help, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. 

And she hadn’t locked it. She was sure she hadn’t.

Lucas, desperate to protect her, grabbed a vase from the entry table and hurled it at Ellie, the glass shattering against her shoulder with a harsh crack. It staggered her for a moment, just long enough for them to dart in separate directions, fleeing up the stairs. 

Ellie grinned, her eyes flashing with excitement as she took off after Lucas, her steps heavy but steady, savoring the thrill of the chase, like a cat chasing a mouse. She looked over her shoulder at you before she raced up the stairs. Allison stumbled into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The auburnette could hear the blonde girl breathing heavily, panicked, the creak of the floorboards giving her away as she backed into the room.

But she decided to take care of Lucas instead, having labeled Allison as the weakest between the two. She successfully cornered Lucas at the end of the hallway. He threw open the door to the master bathroom, eyes darting desperately around for anything he could use to defend himself. He grabbed a towel rack, ripping it off the wall and wielding it like a bat as Ellie advanced on him, her face lit with a twisted satisfaction. A stupid towel rack wasn’t going to stop her, and honestly, it excited her. She loved how people fought for their lives, no matter how fucked up the situation was. It was fascinating to watch, like a wild show of survival instincts kicking in. The panic, the desperation on their faces and in their actions—it was what got her heart racing and made her feel alive.

“You… you’re insane!” Lucas stammered, brandishing the metal rod with trembling hands.

He was taller, bigger, stronger—details that only made the auburnette’s grin widen, her attentive eyes narrowing with anticipation. To her, he was nothing but a challenge, one she was all too eager to take on. Ellie chuckled darkly, her eyes never leaving him as she took one slow, measured step forward. “Only now figuring that out, huh?” She took another step, her shadow looming over him as he shrank back against the tiled wall, his breaths coming in panicked gasps. He swung the metal bar, catching her arm with a glancing hit, but it only seemed to amuse her more. She couldn’t feel pain—not even the faintest pulse of her own heartbeat, completely drowned out by the surge of adrenaline flooding her veins. She felt invincible.

With a swift, practiced precision, Ellie caught his wrist, twisting it sharply until the rod clattered to the aquamarine floor. “Nice try, Lucas,” she hissed before shoving him backward, hard enough that his head cracked against the tile. He slumped to the floor, groaning, his vision swimming as Ellie towered over him. But he fought nonetheless, his hands trying to stop her from sinking the sharp knife into his throat, but it didn’t last long. He didn’t last long.

“That was stupid,” she panted, standing over his corpse, her look sharp and full of disdain. Her face was scrunched in anger, but the adrenaline flooding her veins felt incredible—like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. The thrill of it. A loud noise snapped her from her thoughts. The old wood creaked under her black boots as she headed toward the room where she’d last seen Allison hide.

˳·˖𖤐 The guest bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she shoved it open with a firm kick. Her eyes locked onto Allison, sprawled lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around her still body. Her face was frozen in horror as if she’d seen a ghost in her final moments. Her gaze drifted up—to you, standing just a few feet from Allison’s lifeless body.

“Hey, babe,” you said with a crooked smile, giving her a little wave, clearly nervous but with a spark of excitement in your eyes that made her stare in awe. She remembered that feeling all too well—the jitters, the high that followed her first time. And here you were, cheeks flushed and grinning ear to ear like the fucking Cheshire cat, looking so damn giddy as you took it all in—like a kid who had just discovered their new favorite toy. 

Trying new things had definitely been the right move, and Ellie didn’t regret it for a second, because you were practically glowing. For the first time, you felt truly alive. It hit you then, just how much emptiness you’d been carrying all these years, how you’d learned to live with that hollow feeling. But this? This made you feel whole. Euphoric. Alive in every possible way.

“How’d I do?” you asked, almost childlike, looking up at her with eager eyes, fishing for approval—her approval. It was all you needed, and it felt like trying to impress a middle school crush all over again.

“Pretty good, my love. You did great,” she praised, a hint of pride sneaking into her voice.

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.

Her gaze softened briefly, a low, amused, throaty laugh slipping from her lips as she pushed a stray lock of hair back with the back of her blood-stained glove, leaving a smudged streak of red across her cheekbone. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she took in the mess you’d created. “You know, for a second there, I didn’t think you’d go through with it. Look at you now.” Her tongue darted across her bottom lip as she looked at you up and down, ready to pounce on you any time now.

You blushed, a bit sheepish, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the floor. “What can I say? Guess you’re a bad influence,” you smirked, shrugging it off like it was nothing.

She tossed the knife aside, and you mirrored her every move, watching as she peeled off her gloves and stepped closer. Her toothy smile widened as she pulled you in, her thumb brushing softly across your cheekbone, still warm from the adrenaline rush, while her other trembling hand rested on your waist. “Oh, yeah? Gonna start blaming me now?”

“Maybe,” you shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

The freckled girl leaned in, pressing her lips against yours, soft and warm and she tasted so sweet.

“Your performance down there was flawless, and your technique…” she trailed off, her eyes trailing down to Allison’s body, “Not bad for your first time. A little shaky on the left stab, but hey,” she shrugged, lips curling into a teasing smirk, knowing damn well that even the gentlest dose of constructive criticism would get under your skin, “we’ll work on it.”

You scoffed and swatted her hand away, but Ellie just giggled, her laugh soft and breathless. “Can’t believe you got that question wrong, though,” she reached up to cup your face, her thumb brushing your cheek again, she couldn’t keep her hands off of you. That familiar smug smirk tugged at her heart-shaped lips as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a more playful one, her breath warm against your heated skin. “We’ve only watched the first Scream movie a hundred times together,” she said, almost mockingly offended, her green eyes bright with mischief, the ones that told you exactly what she had in mind. And she swore she was falling deeper for you, you had her in a chokehold.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “I only watched it because you were obsessed with it and I thought you were cute,” you admitted.

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she raised her scarred eyebrow at you. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling her hand drift lower to your waist, pulling you closer, you cupped her cheek, your thumb caressing her blood-stained cheekbone lovingly, staring at her enamored.

Her lips brushed against your ear, voice low and teasing. “You know what I'm really in the mood for?” Her hand slipped lower and lower until it was resting on your plush ass, giving it a suggestive squeeze.

You chuckled, pretending to think. “Pizza?”

She let out a soft laugh. “I was gonna say you, but…” She gave you that crooked, lopsided smile, shrugging playfully.

You snorted, “Oh, well, that too. I just didn’t know killing works up your appetite.”

Her smirk deepened, revealing that dimple on her left cheek you loved so much, her infatuated gaze lingering on your lips almost as if she wanted to swallow you whole. “My bad. Should’ve warned you,” she murmured, then backed you toward the bed behind you, her hands rough but confident, pressing you down as she crawled on top, her breath hot and insistent against your supple skin.

Before you knew it, she was buried deep inside you, slender, calloused fingers curling and pressing against that spot that had you whining, and your legs trembling. Her other hand gripped her switchblade, cool metal tracing up to press it against your throat, and she could feel you squeeze her fingers. “Awwhh, baby,” she taunted, voice dripping with mockery. “You keep squirming like that, and it’s gonna cost you your life.”

You choked out a laugh, though it came out breathless and shaky. “You’d cum at the sight, wouldn’t you?” You bit your lip to stifle a moan, body struggling to hold still as she kept up that relentless rhythm, her fingers stretching and curling deep inside you, making your whole body shudder. You couldn’t help but trap her arm, a weak attempt to slow her down because you knew you wouldn’t last. Not with her pressing a knife on your throat. “Fucking psycho.”

“But you love me.” She said it so matter-of-factly, her lips curling with satisfaction as she watched you nod, helpless and needy, your eyes fluttering shut as your walls clenched around her, drawing her in like you couldn’t get enough.

“Yeah, I love you! F-Fuck…” you gasped, grinding down on her fingers, desperate, craving that friction your hungry clit needed. 

Her smitten gaze drifted to the lifeless body sprawled across the room, a proud smirk tugging at her lips. “So proud of you. You did such a good job. Look at her.” She tilted your face, forcing you to take it in. “Your work.” And in her fucked up mind, she truly believed it—your work deserved to be worshiped, just like Picasso’s after he was gone. A masterpiece, painted with every kind of brutal emotion.

You let out a shaky breath, almost dazed. “Yeah, I… I did that,” you stammered, voice breaking, caught somewhere between a whimper and a sob, you could feel it, you were close already and all that praising surely wasn’t helping.

“That’s right,” she murmured, nodding as her eyes roamed over you, taking you in like she was seeing you for the first time, it made you melt. “You’re so fucking hot, god. Made just for me. Perfect for me.”

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe she was right. You felt it deep down, a truth that clung to you. A match made in hell. And as long as you had her, you’d be more than fine.

[magicalpuppet]

"Are you new here? I’m new too." What if the one she met wasn't Frank at all?

If somebody is interested in the madness “theory”, I'll put it right under here.

Keep in mind before continuing: this is straight up just a theory/headcanon, I'm gonna share it without any other purpose than having fun theorizing. I put some points you can follow, I am sorry this is gonna be long and crazy.

So, I believe the puppet Julie met could be...Wally.

This whole madness was caused by Julie's story in the video "regard forgetfulness silence"...

The memory The way Julie is speaking seems off to me, as well as the way she recounts her first meeting with Frank.

She "think" that's how she met him, isn't it strange she can't recall precisely how she met the dearest puppet to her?

We know Julie have difficulties with her memory, but she seems to remember stuff that happened when hanging out with Frank, why the most important moment is so unclear to her?

This could mean that she can't remember the interaction correctly and that her memories are being heavily corrupted by something or that the whole thing is made up by someone.

The encounter

Even the encounter is iffy, the puppet she met doesn't seems to speak like Frank Does.

"Are you new here? I'm new too. My name is Frank"

This speech pattern sound more similar to Wally to me.

And after that, she says that he made a corny joke and she laughed at it, we know that Frank is not really the one who tells jokes. Heck, he is not even good at telling them.

You could argue about Wally and jokes too, he's not very skilled at telling them after all, but I can imagine two scenarios: -Him speaking normally and not realizing he is saying something funny to her. (this could apply to Frank too)

-His best friend love to tell jokes and we know that Barnaby encourage Wally to chat and tell jokes to the Neighbors, it could be that noticing she was scared he tried to tell a joke to her.

The fruit basket

Okay now I am really looking into stuff, I know, but why would Frank bring a big fruit basket around? Julie says it's because he was going to say hi to her but we know the friendliest neighbor in the whole place is Wally itself. Wouldn't it make more sense for him to be the one going to say hi?

The fruit basket could also just be related to Wally going out into the woods to paint a still life since he is a painter.

“Was he mad?”

She was worried that "Frank" was mad at her when they met.

Strange, because Frank emotions are very easy to read, he's a very expressive puppet. We also know that when he feel a very strong emotion (like being mad) his head spins. Why she would question it? If it was Wally, his emotions are more difficult to read and it could be that she didn't understood his intentions immediately.

Wally itself

The fact she bring up Wally while recalling Frank's meeting is strange too. She says she met Wally the same day, why not meeting the whole neighborhood then? Maybe it was just them at the beginning and it would make sense in that case.

But Wally comes up at the end of the audio asking "Did all that really happen, Julie?" like he is asking her like all of that was made up or straight up incorrect.

Aaand I'm done! I'm not even sure any of this makes sense to anyone else, but it was stuck with me since the update and I wanted to draw it and share it.

Maybe it was Frank, maybe it was really Wally, maybe it never happened in the first place but... Everything sound too strange to be as the story says.

And don't get me wrong with all of this! I love Frank and Julie relationship a lot, I am not going against them in any way. I like to go deep inside the stories I am following and I speculate a lot about stuff! (Also I wanna apologize if my english is not the best, it's not my first language)

[charminglygrouped]

For the past several years (and perhaps longer) in the P&P fandom I've seen a lot of people who want to rehabilitate Mrs. Bennet: like, sure, she's uncouth and seems greedy, but it's because she cares so much about her daughters' futures; her situation is actually really stressful and uncertain and she's powerless to change it and her husband makes fun of her, and so it's natural that it would cause her to be anxious all the time; maybe she doesn't have the intelligence or social awareness to understand that her behaviour is actually harming her daughters' prospects, but at least her heart is in the right place.

I'm usually not the type of person who argues that fandom is actually being too nice to a female character, but in this case I don't buy the counter-narrative (which I think is popular enough at this point to be fanon / a narrative in itself) about Mrs. Bennet.

For one thing, she was never really powerless in this situation. These people are rich even for gentry. Mr. Bennet's income was always good, at 2,000 pounds per annum (even though I can't believe he isn't neglecting some practices that could raise it higher). Mrs. Bennet had 4,000 pounds from her parents and a further 1,000 from Mr. Bennet. Invested in the 4 per cents (for example), this is 200 pounds per year in pin money that Mrs. Bennet could spend without touching the principle of her dowry, and without affecting Mr. Bennet's income. This is more than some people's entire yearly incomes.

The picture of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet that we get in P&P is not of people who are helpless against their circumstances, but of people who are extraordinarily neglectful. We're told that:

Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this period of his life, that, instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived him. [...] When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs. Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their income.

We also know that the "continual presents in money which passed to [Lydia] through her mother’s hands," plus her allowance and food, amount to about 90 pounds per year. Rather than saving up from the beginning in case the entail is not broken, rather than beginning to save once it's clear a son will not arrive, rather than making Jane's dowry the full 5,000 from her mother (which would be something) and saving up for the younger girls' dowries thereafter—which is what would be typical, and that's why Lady Catherine was so shocked that all the girls were out at once—Mrs. Bennet's housekeeping, dress, the girls' allowance, presents of money over and above their allowance, plus whatever Mr. Bennet is spending money on (and other expenses relating to servants, carriages, maintenance &c. which are unavoidable), add up to their entire income. The only reason why Mrs. Bennet doesn't overspend even that is that that's where Mr. Bennet puts his foot down.

Mrs. Bennet is actively harming her daughters' prospects, not even of marriage, but of living respectably if they don't marry, because she doesn't have the temperance not to spend all of the income that is allotted to her. It is the role of the woman in a marriage to take charge of the housekeeping, servants, cooking, furniture, and all expenses relating thereto (plus certain attentions to her tenants and any living in genteel poverty in the area, though presumably this will depend on her income and whether there's a parish church with a parson's wife who's doing some of these things). She's an adult who should be competent to manage these things in a reasoned way without needing to be dictated to.

It is supposed to be the role of the woman in a marriage to take charge of her daughters' education—and yet Mrs. Bennet did not hire a governess, and Elizabeth says that she didn't spend much time teaching her daughters anything (it's not clear to what degree she's educated herself). Granted, the girls did have masters—but, from the sounds of things, that was only if they requested them. No one was required to learn much of anything, which will probably further harm the marriage prospects of the girls who "chose to be idle."

I think the "point" of Mrs. Bennet is that she is one half of one type of bad marriage which the novel illustrates, in contrast with the Gardiners' marriage. These marriages are two possible models for the Bennet daughters to look to. At one point, Elizabeth's prospective marriage is explicitly compared to her parents', with her in the role of her father: Mr. Bennet says "My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life" (emphasis original).

We might wonder whether Elizabeth saw herself potentially in the role of her father, in a marriage that was very intellectually unequal, when she rejected Mr. Collins; or whether she also saw herself in the role of her mother, married to a man who insults and doesn't respect her, when she rejected Mr. Darcy. Ultimately, she accepts Mr. Darcy after she realises that he is nothing like her father; that he is diligent in attending to his responsibilities, and that he does evidently respect her mind.

This isn't me defending Mr. Bennet, who is also a bad parent and a bad spouse. I do, however, find it a little disturbing when people suggest that Mr. Bennet is at fault for not controlling or curtailing his wife. His wife is a grown woman. Surely we don't actually believe that a situation where a man is legally in complete control over his wife, merely because he is a man and she is a woman, is in any way natural, moral, or just? (This also goes for people who suggest that Mr. Bingley needs to get his sister 'in line' 😬😬😬.)

Mrs. Bennet should be competent to manage her household and her daughters. Given that she's not, yes, Mr. Bennet, according to Georgian and Victorian ideas of the role of a man in a marriage, "should" have stepped in and started dictating to her. But I don't really think that's what Austen is suggesting went wrong here. The models of good marriages we have—the Gardiners, the Bingleys and Darcys after their weddings—are all ones in which the women were basically sensible people to begin with. In the latter two cases, we are told of particular ways in which the men stand to benefit from some mental quality of their future spouse (Elizabeth's good humour and ease in company; Jane's steadiness and determination).

The ideal which some Georgians had of a husband's role being to shape his wife's intellect doesn't seem to be what's being advocated here. If Mr. Bennet made a mistake, it was in marrying a silly, selfish, ill-tempered woman to begin with, not in failing to browbeat her into submission once he found out that she was silly, selfish, and ill-tempered. The idea is that you should choose your spouse carefully. But that message doesn't work if Mrs. Bennet is just a woman in a difficult situation who has her heart in the right place.

[livwritessometimes]

Please Please Please

: Lando Norris x Reader

: Y/n really hopes this relationship works out…after all no one likes being embarrassed by a boy

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

2022 (october)

liked by User32 and 62,718 others

👤: Yourname, jacobelordi

CelebGossip: SPOTTED: Y/n L/n and Jacob Elordi, in what seems to be a cozy getaway in Miami! Could this be the start of a new relationship? We’ll find out soon enough!

view all 48,932 comments

User32: SHUT UP!!!!! Y/N and JACOB

User09: OMGGGG I LOVE THEM ALREADY

User66: this is a total invasion of privacy!

liked by jacobelordi and 98,619 others

👤: jacobelordi

Yourname: Cats out of the bag ig 🤭

view all 72,780 comments

jacobelordi: 💙💙

*liked by Yourname*

Yourname: Can you tell blue is our color?? 🙈

*liked by jacobelordi*

lilyzneimer: Cutiessss 😍😍

*liked by Yourname*

-> User52: WAITTT WHY IS LILY HERE????

-> User21: Lily and Y/n are childhood friends

User33: GOALS!!! 🔥

User09: PLEASE DON’T BREAK UP 🙏🏻

liked by Yourname and 102,729 others

👤: Yourname

jacobelordi: Summer of 22’ 🐞

view all 87,627 comments

Yourname: To many more 🥂

*liked by jacobelordi*

-> jacobelordi: 🥂

User51: THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER SINCE SUMMER??????

-> User07: ILRRRRRR

-> User66: This explains why Y/n was always blushing whenever she was asked dating questions in interviews!

2023 (march)

liked by User32 and 72,718 others

👤: kaiagerber, jacobelordi, Yourname

CelebGossip: HE DID WHAT? Looks like flowers aren’t the only thing set to blossom this season. Jacob Elordi and Kaia Gerber were CAUGHT making out in public. This comes as a shock to many, as Elordi is still believed to be in a relationship with singer Y/n L/n. Have the couple already broken up in secret, or did Jacob just air his dirty laundry out in public? Stay tuned to find out!

view all 62,839 comments

User32: WTFFFF

User59: HE CHEATED?????

User88: Ohhhh poor Y/n 💔💔💔

User01: Ik he cheated and all but why are they both kinda giving 💅🏻

-> User54: Ya giving home wrecker if that’s what you mean!

2023 (august)

liked by User72 and 129,628 others

👤: Yourname, shawnmendes

CelebGossip: Y/n L/n, back in the game? After being publicly cheated on by ex boyfriend, Jacob Elordi, L/n seems to have found herself a new beau! Revenge rebound or true love? Either way we’re here to see how it plays!!

view all 97,628 comments

User88: Ok it’s clear Y/n’s type is tall boys!!! GIRL THE WAY THAT I RELATE 🤭🤭🤭

User02: wow! I did not think Shawn had it in him to move on from hailey

-> User63: IKRRR!!! Like he was devastated after their break up 💔💔

User44: This confirms NOTHING!! This can just be a friendly conversation for all we know 🤷🏻‍♀️

-> User58: With the way he’s looking at her 🤨 ya right, friendly my ass

2023 (december)

liked by Yourname and 282,529 others

👤: Yourname

shawnmendes: Guess this makes it official or something doesn’t it @/Yourname??

view all 162,729 comments

Yourname: hmm 🤔 I guess it does @/shawnmendes!

User21: OH FUCK! I THINK IM GONNA FAINT 😵

User01: THIS PERFORMANCE>>>>>>>>

User08: “Cause friends don’t know the way you taste” AHHHHHHHH

User66: I KNEW THEY WERE LYING WHEN THEY SAID THEY’RE “JUST FRIENDS”

User50: I know they just announced their relationship but can we just talk about how GOOD Señorita is!!!!!!

*liked by shawnmendes*

liked by shawnmendes and 216,828 others

👤: shawnmendes

Yourname: I never thought our friendship could turn into something so beautiful 🤍

view all 113,728 comments

User44: this girl is in LOVE!!!!!

User20: I always knew they’d date! I JUST KNEW IT 🥰🥰🥰🥰

shawnmendes: 🤍🤍

*liked by Yourname*

2024 (february)

liked by haileybaldwin and 197,211 others

👤: Yourname, shawnmendes

CelebGossip: 2 heartbreaks in less than a year?? Y/n L/n might just be setting records, for all the wrong reasons. L/n was recently spotted with friend-turned-beau Shawn Mendes for what seemed to be a lovely lunch but ended up leaving the restaurant in tears. Looks like another heartache is in the books for L/n. Could it be bad luck, bad timing, or simply bad choices? Stay tuned to find out.

view all 97,828 comments

User11: WTFFFFF WHAT HAPPENED????

User43: This is why you should never mix friendship with love!!!!

User06: No but like Hailey liking this is just WILD!!!!

-> User71: Wait whattttt!!! I completely missed that!!

2024 (march)

liked by haileymendes and 210,732 others

👤: haileybaldwin, shawnmendes

CelebGossip: Dearest gentle reader, it seems history has a way of repeating itself. Shawn Mendes and Hailey Baldwin, spotted together once again. Could this reignite the spark they once lost? With Mendes’ recent breakup, one can’t help but wonder?

view all 157,621 comments

User02: SHUT UPPPP!!! I KNEW THERE WAS NO WAY SHAWN WAS OVER HAILEY

User23: oh nooo! How could he do this to y/n 💔

User10: they’re not gonna last 👎🏻

liked by shawnmendes and 99,718 others

👤: shawnmendes

haileybaldwin: Funny how things have a way of falling back into place ❤️

view all 81,728 comments

shawnmendes: Better than ever ❤️

*liked by haileybaldwin*

User06: I still can’t believe how cruel people can be! Y/n deserves better 🤍

User88: They’re so in love 😍

*liked by haileybaldwin*

2024 (may)

liked by oscarpiastri and 134,278 others

👤: lilyzneimer

Yourname: I’m gonna marry her someday 💍

view all 97,628 comments

lilyzneimer: It’s a love story, baby I’ll say yes 💒

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

User18: Poor Oscar 😭😭😭😭

-> Yourname: umm who tf is that????

-> oscarpiastri: Wow Y/n Wow 🙂

-> Yourname: 🤨🤨

User81: PETITION TO BRING Y/N TO A GRAND PRIX

-> lilyzneimer: 🤔

-> oscarpiastri: Lily No 🙅🏻

-> mclaren: Lily Yes 🙌🏻

liked by oscarpiastri and 168,829 others

👤: mclaren, oscarpiastri

Yourname: Blessing McLaren with my presence 😌

view all 104,753 comments

mclaren: Feeling very blessed 🛐🛐

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: 🤭🤭

oscarpiastri: Did you really have to use that picture??

-> Yourname: I think the word you’re looking for is ‘Thank You’ for not using the other picture 🤨

-> landonorris: @/mclaren MOM! They’re fighting again!!!!

-> Yourname: tattletale 😒👎🏻

-> landonorris: 😇😇

User40: I pity Lily 😞

*liked by lilyzneimer*

User55: Okay so are we all just gonna ignore that interaction???

2024 (july)

liked by Yourname and 219,628 others

👤: Yourname, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer

landonorris: Date night with Oscar, when two random girls crashed it. Weird!

view all 154,872 comments

Yourname: Wow! If I remember correctly you’re the one who called us and said “please join us!!! We miss you!!! Please guys, Please!!!”

-> landonorris: I remember no such thing 🙂‍↔️

-> User12: Yk it’s bad when you gotta use please 3 times!! 😭😭

lilyzneimer: umm that’s literally my boyfriend 😃

-> landonorris: I think you mean our* boyfriend!! 😌

-> lilyzneimer: No I absolutely did not mean that???

-> oscarpiastri: I don’t know if I should feel happy or worried about you two 🫤

User58: IS THAT LANDO AND Y/N IN THE THIRD PICTURE???????

-> User04: IT ISSS OMGGG

-> User03: Damn Y/n’s gonna get her heart broken all over again

LN4Hater: @/Yourname he’s just gonna use and dump you! Girl have some self respect! You’ve literally been through 2 heartbreaks already!

User57: Honestly I just don’t get it! Like Y/n why is your taste so bad?? Just why??????

-> User77: I just wonder how she isn’t tired of being embarrassed?? Like, I personally could never handle that level of public humiliation 🫣🫣🫣

liked by User11 and 102,881 others

👤: landonorris, Yourname

CelebGossip: The rumour mill is spinning, and your favourite pop princess is at the centre of it again! Word on the street is that Lando Norris and Y/n L/n are getting close, and fans aren’t exactly thrilled. Especially after learning out about Norris’ colourful dating history.

We’ve done all the hard work for you and compiled a list of every single person Norris has been linked to in the past year. Click the link in bio to get a full scoop on his playboy past.

Will this mark the end of his streak or will L/n just be another name added to the list.

view all 96,738 comments

User39: Wow! That list looks like a class roll call, DAMN!!

User09: @/Yourname please please please get a hold of yourself! THIS MAN HAS BEEN AROUND 🙏🏻🙏🏻

User04: Guys this is bullshit! This whole list is ridiculous and CelebGossip posting it is even worse!

2024 (september)

liked by User04 and 168,813 others

👤: Yourname, landonorris

CelebGossip: Looks like things are still going strong between Y/n L/n and Lando Norris. The duo was first spotted together back in May and against all odds (and exes), they’re still going steady. Are they in it for the long run, or is our heartbreak queen about to score a hat-trick?

view all 110,727 comments

User52: Sorry girly but that looks like love to me!!!

Nowinsnorris: There is no way that man has changed! Y/n run away as fast as you can

-> User04: Oh please! Just shut up 🙄

User65: I mean at least she’s happy! That’s all that matters ig!

liked by Yourname and 275,718 others

landonorris: Couldn’t have asked for a better end to the weekend! Thank you so much, Singapore 🇸🇬🫶🏻

view all 201,782 comments

oscarpiastri: Congrats Mate 🥂

-> landonorris: you too Osc 🙌🏻

mclaren: LETS GOOO 🔥🔥

Yourname: Good race!

-> landonorris: just good? 😏

-> Yourname: hmm 🤔 could have been better ig 🤷🏻‍♀️

*liked by mclaren*

-> User44: Not mclaren liking the comment 😭😭😭

User77: The effect Y/n has on Lando needs to be studied, cause tell me why the man who usually spends all his podium celebrations in clubs is now having DINNER AT HOME with his girlfriend??????

-> User09: It’s true what they say, sometimes, all it takes is the right person to make you change

liked by landonorris and 169,627 others

Yourname: lovin’ my life 🫶🏻

view all 102,882 comments

landonorris: ohh any particular reason why? 🤔

-> Yourname: Yes actually! Been spending a lot of time with the loml @/lilyzneimer

-> lilyzneimer: love you too 😘

-> landonorris: OMGGG first Oscar and now this!!! Lily just say you hate me already

-> lilyzneimer: I would, but then McLaren would make me sit with you for a PR meeting, and I am not ready for that kind of suffering 😩

-> mclaren: It’s true, we will!

2024 (november)

liked by landonorris and 165,728 others

👤: landonorris

Yourname: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OUT NOW!!! Enjoy 💋

view all 112,838 comments

User32: OMFGGGGGG IS THAT LANDO IN THE MV??????

landonorris: I see you’ve been to jail 👀

-> Yourname: what can I say I’m a dangerous girl 😌🔪

lilyzneimer: SO GOOD!!! Been streaming this ALL DAY LONG!!!

*liked by Yourname*

-> oscarpiastri: It’s true, she has been! Anyways, great song Y/n/n!!!!

*liked by Yourname*

User55: I never knew I needed to see Lando in handcuffs before this!! THANK YOU Y/N 🛐🛐🛐

User87: please please please don’t ever break up!!

*liked by landonorris*

liked by Yourname and 279,637 others

👤: Yourname

landonorris: Been in handcuffs a lot lately 😈

view all 172,728 comments

Yourname: From the looks of it, you seem to like it

-> landonorris: And what if I say I do 👀

-> mclaren: Y/N PLEASE DON’T ANSWER TO THIS 🙏🏻

-> Yourname: Oops 🤭🤭

oscarpiastri: This caption is very concerning

-> landonorris: 😙✌🏻

User58: YOU NEED HOLY WATER 💦

*liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, lilyzneimer*

2025 (january)

liked by landonorris and 239,627 others

👤: landonorris

Yourname: To everyone who said he wouldn’t win this season and we wouldn’t last…how’s that working out for you? 😌

view all 147,627 comments

User32: AHHHHH THE CAPTION

landonorris: Winning on and off track I’d say 🥂

-> Yourname: hmm and what did you win off track? 🤔

-> landonorris: your heart ofc 😏

-> oscarpiastri: please stop! Some conversations aren’t meant for social media 🙏🏻

mclaren: On a regular day, this caption would’ve led to a PR meeting, but we’ll let it slide, only because you’re our fav 🧡

-> mclaren: Also because we’ve exhausted all our ppts over lando 🫢

*liked by Yourname*

-> landonorris: 🥲🥲🥲

…

Tags: @sheblogs | @wobblymug | @evasmlp | @ln8118 | @urfavsgf | @tvdtw4ever | @linnygirl09 | @dejavuontrack | @stylesmoonlight12 | @ellelabelle | @piastri-fvx | @vannylen2144

[yasministration]

subtle diamond rings - aaron hotchner

summary: when your coworkers discover the ring on your finger, they are immediately driven to ssa hotchner's office to ask him who your husband is. wc: 0.9k+

A hand on your forehead, deep in thought. Eyebrows furrowed, trying to make out something you had written down in a rush two days ago. Your co-workers, jaws dropped and eyes wide. A ring on your left hand, with the biggest diamond they had every seen. You hadn’t noticed your mistake yet, and they unanimously decided to give you one last moment of peace before chaos would ensue.

Sighing, you brought both your hands down to grip the corners of the paper you were trying to read from, but your attention was attracted to the light catching on your diamond ring. You smiled fondly at the ring on your finger before your eyes widened. Inhaling deeply, you let go of the document in front of you, trying to delicately slide the ring off your finger. Before you could slip it into a safe pocket of your purse, a voice was heard across from you.

“Subtle.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Derek’s voice. “Good thing no one saw you take that ring off, am I right?” Emily added, dragging her chair closer to Derek. “That would be a disaster.” Added Spencer, leaning on the back of Derek’s chair. You swallowed thickly, at a complete loss for words, your fist gently closing around the beautiful ring. “I… Please don’t tell anyone.” You found yourself begging, but Derek only grinned. “Don’t tell anyone what?”

You froze.

There was no possibility you could ever lie to the person that voice belonged to, so you supposed if you said nothing, you’d be safe. Penelope Garcia walked in front of your desk, looking at you with arms crossed over her chest. You cleared your throat nervously, blinking slowly at the blonde. “I-uh.”

“Put it on, show it to her.”

“Put what on?”

You opened your palm, letting Penelope see the jewellery in your hand. “You’re engaged!?” You opened your mouth, not wanting to betray them any further, but it seemed that your face had revealed enough. “Married?” Spencer whispered, his mouth agape, shocked that you’d hidden a committed relationship for the course of an engagement too.

“Let’s go ask Hotch who it is!” Decided Penelope, prompting Emily and Derek to stand up in unison. “Wait, why Hotch?” “He’s the supervisory special agent. They usually know those details about their agents.” Explained Spencer. “Oh.” Emily and Derek both shot you the same look, squinting their eyes at you suspiciously. “Right, let’s go ask!” You announced, pushing yourself off your chair as you slid your ring back on.

You watched as Penelope, Derek and Spencer walked ahead of you, but Emily stayed back, her hand curling around your wrist. “Hotch?” She whispered. You blankly stared at her, guilt painting your face. “Let’s go ask Hotch.” You repeated.

You pushed past the agents lingering in Hotch’s doorway, moving to sit on the leather couch in his office. Derek and Spencer’s heads moved to watch in astonishment as you slumped on your boss’ sofa, chewing on your bottom lip worriedly. “You know, I’m really starting to believe my suspicion is correct.” Noted Derek, before turning back to SSA Hotchner. “What suspicion?” Questioned Penelope.

“What are the five of you doing in here?” Hotch sighed, and you turned your gaze to stare at your lap, distracting yourself from everyone’s stares. “We want to know who y/n’s husband is.” Penelope declared, pointing at you. Hotch slowly turned his attention to you, and you swallowed thickly, shrugging your shoulders. “I forgot to take my ring off this morning.”

As though Hotch forgot he hadn’t been discovered yet, a fond smile made its way onto his face, causing your eyes to widen. “It is him.” Whispered Spencer with horror. “Him like Hotch?” Penelope looked around frantically, watching as you cringed softly, eyes still locked on your boss, sharing a look too intimate for him to only be your boss.

Your husband.

“Hotch is him!?” She shrieked, attracting the attention of JJ, who had been looking for the team, trying to call them up to the conference room. “Hey, what’s going on?” She asked softly, poking her head into the office. “These two traitors are married.” JJ laughed softly, but when no one broke character, she began looking around in confusion. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, agent l/n and I are married. Or, agent Hotchner, should I say?" At the squeals that came from your coworkers at the confirmation, he playfully rolled his eyes. "We have been before Prentiss joined this team. Have been in a relationship since before Reid joined. We got engaged somewhere in between.” Penelope screamed at your husband’s confession, her jaw dropping to the floor. “It seems silly to slip up now.” You mumbled, spinning the ring around on your finger. JJ gasped again, moving past her coworkers to get a closer look at the ring on your finger.

“This must have cost a fortune.” She spoke in a gossipy tone, smiling wildly when she looked up at you. “Well, it was less of a fortune back then than it would be now. Inflation. Now everyone get out of my office.”

“Oh! We have a case, by the way.” Your coworkers dispersed into the hallway outside and Hotch travelled across the room, shutting his door closed for a moment alone with you. “I’m sorry, I forgot.” You apologised, bringing up your hands up to rest on Aaron’s abdomen. He tilted his head to the side with a smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy you get to wear it now.” “I forgot to take it off after dinner.” You reiterated.

“Well, if I remember correctly, we were quite busy after dinner last night.” You felt your cheeks go hot, and reached over to open the door of Hotch’s office. “Sweetheart?” You looked back at your husband, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Happy anniversary.”